Page 96 of Tainted Blood
Instead of answering, Lisko picks up his spoon and returns to his bowl.
He’s stalling.
The Odessa Don never had any intention of entertaining our offer.
Without taking my eyes off the fat fuck and his red-stained teeth, I slowly reach down, my fingers brushing my gun holster. As if hearing his own snake rattle, Grayson’s gaze drops, then shifts back up, holding my stare as his hand slips under the table as well.
He knows, too
It’s a trap.
There are no words, but the unspoken message we share is clear and distinct.
We go out fighting.
I pull my gun from its holster. At the faint click, Lisko glances up, thick red liquid dripping from his lips.
“Gun,” he notes with disgust. “How unimaginative. You know why I conduct all business in Kyiv Kitchen, Carrera?”
It’s a statement, not a question, so I don’t offer an answer.
“It is good place to carve meat.” An icy smile peels across his face, and there’s an explosion of frenzied motion behind us.
Grayson and I pull our guns simultaneously, aiming them at his head. Seconds later, we’re being slammed into from behind, sending them tumbling across the table as two butcher knives are pressed against our throats.
“What are you waiting for, pendejo?” I roar, hatred boiling in my veins. “Do it!”
Sighing, the Ukrainian drops his spoon, that sadistic smile turning downward. “I hate cold borscht.” He looks up, his expression tightening. “You no longer amuse me, Señor Carrera. Fortunately, more stimulating entertainment awaits me in New Jersey.”
Another warning rattle.
Thalia.
The fangs sink deeper.
Lola.
Cold, hard rage simmers beside me. “You never had any intention of doing business.”
“Not true, Grayson,” Lisko tuts, wagging that goddamn finger again. “We do have business. It is just not with you. Lorenzo has missed his wayward lambs.”
Fuck.
We both struggle, an effort which only earns us the sharp bite of a blade and a stream of warm red liquid trickling down our necks.
“Not a smart move to leave others to watch over your weaknesses,” he muses.
I need that fucking gun.
“Did you know sheep are predictable?” He pauses as if I’m going to answer questions with a fucking butcher’s knife to my jugular. “They have a strong instinct for danger. One that compels them to band together for protection. Is game of…” Glancing up at the ceiling, he snaps his fingers. “What do Americans call it...? Ah yes, Follow The Leader. One sheep moves, the other will follow. Is why so many are slaughtered. Hardwired instinct is stronger than learned intuition. Sad.”
“You son of a bitch!” Grayson roars.
I try to speak, but there’s no longer a separation of man and monster. The images of Thalia and Lola have caused the Jekyll and Hyde parts of me to run full force into one another.
We made them a flashing target. While we swung our dicks around, Zaccaria’s been watching us. He’s been waiting for his moment to strike. Once again, he’s using Legado as a cage—trapping Thalia and Lola in a new nightmare.
“I’ll kill you slowly, Lisko,” I say darkly, holding his smug stare. There’s so much adrenaline pumping through my veins, I barely feel a second swipe of the knife at my throat. “I’ll cut you into pieces and serve you to your own mother.”