Bone Deep(51)

The guard holding Dmitry began to push him to one of the window holes.

“Get to your knees,” Bone demanded of the woman.

“Dostoyev, take her!” she screamed.

“Dostoyev won’t help you now because he knows what you do not—I will kill his precious daughter when I finish with you should he take a single step in my direction. I am flesh and blood, Svetlana Asinimov, but I am death and you cannot stop me.”

“No,” the woman whispered, fear pinching her features.

“Joseph should have prepared you better. He gave you warning and you took it as a chance to eliminate me. It is almost as if he wanted you gone, eh? How he has orchestrated every move you’ve made over the years. You are pathetic,” Bone taunted her.

Bone reached down, grabbed her by the hair of her head, and pulled her up. The woman sobbed. Bone did not care.

“It was you!” the woman exclaimed suddenly, nails tearing into the skin of Bone’s hands as she struggled.

Bone knew fear then, the insidious creep of it through her mind and heart. Not because the woman struggled, but because now she would face the truth she had never wanted Dmitry exposed to. Here, now, they would both face the truth.

“You killed Sacha,” the woman said on a cry. “Dmitry? Your lover,” she spat the word, “killed your precious father.”

Dmitry’s head swiveled to her then and on his bruised face she saw he now knew the truth. “No,” he said gutturally. “He could have been a good man.”

She steeled her spine and sliced her gaze to him. “No. There was no hope for that. As there is no hope for your mother.” She would not fail in this duty. She cocked her head at him.

“No!” Dmitry’s voice was tortured. “Do not do this, Bone!”

Bone looked at his mother and her mind cleared. She blanked her face but let all the hate she felt in that moment shine through her eyes.

“Vengeance is the Lord’s,” Svetalana told her, desperation painting her words and her features.

Bone took the woman’s head in her hands and Svetlana sobbed. “I will apologize if I ever meet Him,” Bone whispered.

“Don’t do this,” Dmitry pleaded again.

Always he pleaded for her to stay her hands. She could not.

The man holding Dmitry grinned at her and with a flash of memory, Bone realized who the killer was…Cain. The Sciariorum. “Kill her, Bone Breaker,” he challenged. “Make the son hate you.”

She nodded, accepting it would happen and with a harsh breath she whispered in the woman’s ear. “Zeh mah shevesh.” The words of her father scraped her throat raw but they were all she could offer in this place of death and truth.

She twisted the woman’s head, no remorse, no hesitation, killing her much faster than she deserved. “For Ninka,” she yelled.

Dmitry moved then, bashing his head into Cain’s nose. Cain twisted from the movement, pushed Dmitry away and what happened next seemed in slow motion to Bone.

Cain pulled out a handgun, aimed and fired at Dmitry. Their proximity to the window hole combined with the force of the gunshot pushed Dmitry to the sill, where he hovered, his gaze meeting hers before he toppled out.

“Noooo!” Bone rushed to him, kicking out at Cain, connecting with a knee and hearing his next shot go wide and gouge bits of brick from the top of the wall.

Cain did not stay down and just as she made it to the sill, she noticed Dmitry had somehow managed to grab it with his injured hand. Then Cain was on her, using both of his fists against the sides of her head.

She crouched, spun and used the move similar to what she’d done with Bullet the other day—she punched up…only she hit Cain in his balls. He fell immediately, mouth open on a silent scream of pain, eyes promising retribution.

She glanced out the hole and her gaze met Dmitry’s. Fear snaked through her at the pain and acceptance in his gaze. Cain grabbed her waist and she turned as he sought to push her away from the window. She backfisted him in the ear and followed it with a straight jab to his nose.

“Bitch,” he said in low voice.

“Let me show you what a bitch I can be,” she taunted him.

Bone didn’t wait for a response. She attacked. She ran and leaped toward him, punching him in the shoulder and landing behind him. Bone tapped him twice in the left kidney, once in the liver.

He turned, his big body absorbing the blows though pain marked his face. He attempted an attack but she knew she’d hurt him with the liver shot. She blocked some of his blows and the ones she couldn’t, she accepted and altered them into motivation.

A glance at the sill told her Dmitry still hung at least fifty feet above the sidewalk below. He wouldn’t be able to hold on much longer. A punch to the jaw and Cain grunted, giving up on boxing her to simply take her on a bumrush. They grappled and he took her down with his considerable size. But she was quicker.

Bone shifted her weight as they fell and ended up beside instead of under Cain. She gained her feet immediately, kicking the man in the ribs, feeling his bones give…so she kicked him again.

He rolled, grabbing her foot and taking her off her feet. The grinding of bone in her own chest took her breath.

“Do not make me kill you, Bone,” Cain wheezed.

“You cannot kill what you don’t understand—it is the thing that halts your sniper, your swordsman and your archer. That pressing need you five always have to know why you are killing…that is why First Team is better. We kill because it is all we know. Stand and meet your fate, assassin,” she hissed between clenched teeth.