Page 75 of Dagger in the Sea

Everything, everything, everything was loaded on this trigger.

The note screeched, hung in the air.

A roar escaped my chest.

The gun pressed into my head. I tightened my finger.

Click.

A gasp of silence.

An exhale ripped from me, lungs gulping for air.

Everyone around us cheered and whooped, jeered and argued. Clapping filling my ears. My heavy eyes lifted and found Adriana’s.

Victory.

Berezin had released her from his grip. She watched me, eyes gleaming, still, quiet, but not quiet.I’m here, Turo. Here with you.

“Ah!” Berezin clapped his hands loudly and I flinched. His face lit up in a huge smile. The master of ceremonies was pleased.

Now what, you fucker?

“However, this was two in a row, eh?” He looked around at his audience and they agreed in a cacophony of languages. “Tss,nyet.” He pressed his lips together. He wasn’t truly fulfilled; he wanted drama, spectacle to have the last word.

Evgeny gestured to someone behind him. “Bring him again.”

Two muscle men brought over a haggard man who wore glasses. In his forties, fifties? The drink in his hand was taken away. “No, no! Wait, no!” his voice slurred. “What are you doing? Why?”

Whatever he was high on, booze, drugs, or relief, it was now being driven off the road by a fresh, bitter gust of fear. He was shoved down in the other chair at the table opposite me.

Evgeny clapped a hand on his shoulder. “My friend here won a round before you,” he said to me. “Let us raise the stakes now.”

“Yes!” they shouted.

Evgeny said, “A duel.”

“Da, like Pushkin and Lermontov!” shouted a Russian accented voice.

“Exactly,” said Evgeny. “Those were men of fire.”

First Bach and now nineteenth century Russian poets who’d dueled to their deaths.

“No!” said my opponent, jerking, twisting himself out of the security guards’ hold. He’d already gone through his ring of fire. He’d been hijacked from his victory lap.

Poor asshole. This was far from over.

“Stand,” ordered Evgeny.

I launched from the table, knocking back my chair.

“Move the table, everyone to the side,” said Evgeny and the bettors scurried to one side of the room, servants quickly dispatched the table as I stood there waiting, heart thudding. Evgeny placed another revolver in my opponent’s trembling hand, another gun was placed in mine. The butler brought my rival to the center, close to me. He stank of liquor, his eyes red, full of water. I looked away.

Adriana’s determined, large, steady eyes found mine, her chest heaving with breaths, lips pale.

Determined to survive, to live.

Yes, live.

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