Page 73 of Emerald Vices
“Then why would you want to be there?”
“Because…” I trail off, fumbling in the dark of my confused thoughts for an answer. “Because this is your world; I need to know if I can stomach it.”
“Natalia, you’re not thinking straight. It’s been a crazy day. You need to?—”
“Don’t,” I interrupt. “Don’t tell me how I’m feeling and don’t tell me what I want.”
Sure, there are goosebumps on my arms and my hands are trembling, but beneath the fear and uncertainty, there’s something else. Something new.
Or maybe it’s not new. Maybe it’s been there for a long time. Waiting.
Gritting his teeth, he leans back in the cushioned seats. “I must be insane to agree to this.”
“Is that a yes?”
Before he replies, Leif lurches into the driver’s seat and starts the engine. “They’re loaded up, boss. I can make a pit stop at the manor before we go to the warehouse.”
Andrey’s face is indecipherable. I wait with bated breath as the muscles in his jaws thrum and twitch, clenching again and again. Then: “Forget the pit stop, Leif. We’re going straight to the warehouse.”
I can’t stop the triumphant smile from spreading across my face. If Leif has questions about Andrey’s decision-making, he keeps them to himself. With an obedient nod, he puts the car into drive and we take off after the van filled with men who thought they could put their hands on me and get away with it.
Time to show them just how wrong they were.
29
NATALIA
The warehouse looks like the set of a slasher movie.
Broken boards covered in mold hang from the ceiling like rotten teeth. Shattered glass is scattered across a floor that could be covered in either rust, dried blood, or both. I contemplate it for all of two seconds before I decide I’d rather not know.
“There’s still time to back out.” Andrey’s lips brush against the shell of my ear.
I square my shoulders and wrench my hand away from his. “I want to be here. I want to see you in action.”
He gazes at me thoughtfully. Is that admiration or disgust? “You might get more than you bargained for,” he warns.
“If I can’t take it, I’ll walk away,” I assure him. “But it’ll be my choice. Just let me try.”
He opens his mouth to say something, but then thinks better of it. “Then let’s go.” He takes my hand again and leads me through the warehouse.
I lean into his side. “I know this place is mostly for maiming and murdering, but you could still sweep once or twice.”
Andrey smiles wryly. “The worse it looks, the more likely civilians are to stay away from it.”
The only light comes from the moonlight slicing through the holes in the roof. It dapples the dusty ground and debris. Further into the space, one shaft acts like a spotlight for a line of men tied up in front of a crumbling brick wall. Their arms are pinned above their heads and their legs are fastened spread-eagle to iron hooks set into the bricks.
I count eleven souls in total. I recognize the one on the end as “Detective” Harris.
Something curls in the pit of my stomach. It’s hot and viscous, and I don’t have a name for it.
“Natalia?” I flinch at how close Andrey’s voice is.
“I’m okay,” I assure him. I point one quivering finger at Harris. “I think you should question the ‘detective’ first.”
His tongue sweeps across his bottom lip. “You’re sure?”
I circle my hands over my stomach. “He didn’t hurt me, but he spent the whole drive telling me about how he was going to hurt my children when they were born. I want to hear him scream.”