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Hopefully, she won’t need one—she should be the least likely of any of us to get shot. Assuming Marko’s men recognize her. And assuming they know how to aim.
Adrik seizes Nix by the arm, pulling her to the front of the pack. He points his rifle right at her spine.
“You lead the way,” he says. “And if you get any brilliant ideas about yelling out or trying to run off . . . I’ll cut the cord to your legs.”
I shove my way between Adrik and Nix, standing between her and the gun.
“Don’t touch her, and don’t fucking threaten her,” I snarl.
Adrik stares at me like I’ve lost my mind.
“She’s not your girlfriend,” he scoffs. “She’d shoot you in the back right now if she was the one holding the rifle.”
I look at Nix. Her stare is as furious as I’ve ever seen it. But I don’t believe she’d shoot me.
“I don’t give a shit,” I say. “No one touches Nix but me.”
Adrik shakes his head in disgust. “You’ve been Ares too long,” he says.
That stings.
Do I really seem so different to my cousins, my sister, my own parents?
Do they think I’m not one of them anymore?
“Nix goes in front,” I say, “I’ll be right behind her.”
Now it’s me with my gun pointed at her back. I see her stiffen, with hurt or with outrage.
It doesn’t matter. She’s safer this way.
Because no matter what she does, I’ll never pull the trigger.
32
Ivan Petrov
The explosion shakes my cell—a deep, booming thunder that I know could only come from underground.
I’m on my feet in an instant, running to the door.
Borys and Ihor are in a panic out in the hall, shouting to each other.
Marko’s men are not well trained. They don’t know what to do in a moment like this.
I, on the other hand, know exactly what’s happening.
My wife is here.
I don’t know where she is, or what she’s doing, but I know she’s coming for me. And these two idiots in the hall better pray they don’t get in her way.
I hear the crackle of Borys’s radio and frantic shouting in Ukrainian as several soldiers try to talk over each other.
All I can make out is:
Attackers in the tunnels!
Someone put?—
