Page 99 of Frozen Heart

I just had to...get the fuck up.

The pain in my head didn’t diminish. But now there was something in the firestorm, something made of diamond, indestructible. I focused on it.

Spartak yelled and swung back his foot for another kick, this one aimed at my head. But at the last second, I reached up and caught his ankle, the tip of his polished shoe an inch from my face.

She needs me.

I rolled onto my side and braced my hands on the floor. As I pushed, I felt shards of glass lancing into my palms, but I ignored it. I groaned. Grunted.

Andgot the fuck up.

Spartak stared at me in disbelief as I slowly rose to my feet. I could feel something warm dripping down my neck and wondered how badly my head was bleeding. One side of my face was bleeding, too, and my hands were a chewed-up mess.

I gripped my waistcoat, leaving bloody handprints, and tugged it straight.

Spartak ran at me, swinging wildly. I stepped forward and punched him in the jaw, ignoring the pain from the glass in my hands. The blow took him right off his feet and he went crashing down on his back. I followed him down, hitting him again and again, until finally he lay still.

Then I heaved myself to my feet again and stumbled down the stairs into the fire. My vodka-soaked jacket caught fire immediately and I ripped it off me just before the flames reached my face. I couldn’t see anything but smoke. “Bronwyn!” I yelled. My voice sounded slurred and slow. There was no reply, and I yelled again, fear crushing my heart. “Bronwyn!”

The flames were roaring so loud I wasn’t sure I’d be able to hear her even if she answered. I pushed on down the hallway, skirting around fires that seared my face. Something crunched under my feet and I looked down to see pills: thousands of pills, strewn across the floor. Blood was dripping down onto them...God, I was leaving atrail, and I was lightheaded, too. How badly was I bleeding?!

It didn’t matter. I’d search every inch of this place if I had to. “Bronwyn! Bron—” The smoke got in my throat, and I started coughing, then couldn’t stop. I doubled over and went down on my knees.

“Radimir!”

Her voice, somewhere over to my left. I crawled through the smoke, still coughing. And then I saw her, and it was like my heart started beating again. She was on her knees next to Liliya, pressing on a wound in the woman’s stomach. “I’m pressing on it!” she told me, tears running down her cheeks. “That’s what you have to do, right?”

I threw my arms around her and hugged her tight, nodding weakly, still coughing. Liliya opened her eyes and looked up at me, her face deathly white.

“She can’t walk,” Bronwyn told me desperately. “I tried but I couldn’t get her up the stairs.”

An explosion shook the hallway and a fresh, choking cloud of black smoke swallowed us up, burning our eyes and forcing its way down into our lungs. I laid a bloody hand on Bronwyn’s shoulder. She glared at me. “I’mnot leaving her!Ipromised!”

My chest went tight. My little librarian was so brave...but the flames were spreading fast. We couldn’t stay, and I couldn’t carry Liliya, not in the state I was in. My jaw set and I gripped Bronwyn’s shoulders: I’d drag her away, if I had to.

And then out of the smoke came a big, gloriously familiar figure. Alexei scowled down at me:what have you gotten yourself into now?Then he bent down, scooped Liliya up into his arms and turned towards the hatch. “We go now,” he told me.

I didn’t argue. I clambered to my feet and Bronwyn and I supported each other as we staggered down the hallway and back to the stairs.

When we got back up to the club, we found things had gotten worse, fast. The fire had really taken hold, spreading across carpets and up walls that Spartak had been too cheap to fireproof. The entire place was ablaze. But at least with the door open, the people had finally been able to get out. The club was empty.

Almostempty. My brothers intercepted us as we moved across the dance floor. “Chyort, brother,” said Gennadiy, staring at my wounds, my singed, bloody shirt and my missing jacket.

“I’m okay,” I wheezed. And I pulled Bronwyn tighter to my side.Better than okay.Together, we all headed for the door.

“Wait,” croaked Bronwyn. “Spartak.”

Everyone looked at her in confusion. “He’s back there, out cold,” I told her, pointing.

“Let him burn,” said Gennadiy viciously.

Bronwyn shook her head. “He’s the one who faked the phone call! If we get him out, he can tell The Eight what he did!”

I stared at her.She’s right.I would have left him there and lost our only chance at clearing our name.Whatever did I do without her?

I showed Valentin and Gennadiy where I’d left Spartak’s unconscious body—none of his men had tried to save him, they must have all fled when the club caught fire. My brothers picked up Spartak and a few moments later we emerged into blissfully cold, clean night air. We were coughing, our lungs raw from the smoke, our skin was singed, and I was bleeding everywhere and couldn’t really see straight. But we were alive.

The street was filling up with fire trucks and paramedics and I could hear police sirens approaching, too. We took Liliya straight to one of the ambulances. Gennadiy, Valentin and Mikhail quickly put Spartak in their car so that they could spirit him away before the cops got him. A rental car came screeching around the corner and Gabriella stuck her head out of the window. “Get in!”