Page 89 of Ruinous Need
I catch a glimpse of her blonde hair shining on the altar even in the dim light of the church. But she doesn’t see me.
Vadim holds Lisette’s head down so she can’t see what’s happening as he drags her off the altar and out a side door.
I run faster, willing my aching legs to carry me, but she’s already gone into the depths of the church. Where are they taking her?
A gunshot sounds, this one from inside the church, and I redirect my focus. I can’t get carried away just because I’ve seen a glimpse of her.
Stay alive first. Find Lisette second.
There’s mass confusion in the crowd now as people try to head for the doors. People are screaming. Men draw guns. Others duck underneath the pews that line the church as though the mahogany will protect them from a bullet.
The stained glass window at the front cracks and shatters into the building as a team of guards from outside enter, decked out head-to-toe in protective gear. So Semyon had prepared for this eventuality, after all.
I clock one guard taking aim at me from the stage, but as I lay eyes on him, he goes down. Followed by the man next to him.
Thank fucking God.
Someone’s on my side. Someone with good aim. I don’t know where the bullets are coming from, but I think whoever is shooting wants to clear a path to Semyon.
My cousin is turning his head, speaking into the radio rapidly. He’s not looking at me, and he hasn’t noticed his guard go down beside him.
Unearned confidence until his last breath.
I drop the gun as he turns towards me, his mouth falling open. I’m sure there’s a twisted insult on his tongue, but I don’t want to hear it.
“This is for Lisette.”
I pull the knife from my belt and slit Semyon’s throat as though he’s an animal to be sacrificed, the hot blood gushing over my hand.
As my cousin collapses against me, a hand closes over my shoulder.
“Knew you’d make it. I’ll clean up in here. Go find her.”
I turn to Markov, the constricting tightness in my chest finally loosening.
“First, I’ve got a special request.”
CHAPTER 40
LISETTE
THE HEAVY SILK robes that I assume priests wear are everywhere in here. The air reeks of incense.
Every wardrobe I open releases a plume of dust until I think my wedding make-up must be entirely ruined.
Daria locked me in this quiet, dusty storage room while she went back to see what was happening. The giant guard barely even made it out the door with me before he heard more gunshots and ambled back to the altar.
I’m not so sure the wedding’s still on, given the gunshots still echoing through the stone chambers.
The door is locked from the outside, but I pound at it anyway. I don’t want to wait around and have my fate handed to me like a foregone conclusion.
Then the door swings inwards, and I yelp in surprise. I don’t think it’s my efforts that opened it.
I step back, brandishing the gold candlestick that was the closest thing to a weapon I could find in this storeroom. My grip slackens as the scent of saltwater and firewood curls in my nostrils.
He’s dead. It’s not possible…
But it is. The candlestick clangs over the stone floors after it falls from my hands.
