Page 15 of Crimson Wrath

“A few leads we can start with. But Anton…” He hesitates. “If Volkov was going to kill Scarlett, he would have said so. It’s a ploy, nothing more. Once we’ve confronted him, we can negotiate for her.”

I wish I shared his confidence. “We’ll see.” I stand, jaw set. “Right now, I am not in the mood for negotiations. Let’s get to work. I want my son back, and I want Volkov’s head.”

Luka’s mouth curves in a humorless smile. “Now you’re talking.”

We spend the next hours gathering intel from allies and informants, chasing down rumors and dead ends. Until my door swings open abruptly, and Ivan marches in looking grimly triumphant.

“We found one of Volkov’s lieutenants.” His grin broadens. “There’s an old cabin higher up in the mountains. My men found the guy scouring the woods out there.”

I surge to my feet, pulse pounding. “Where is he now?”

“In the cellar. Thought you might want a word.” Ivan’s tone is casual, but his eyes gleam with anticipation. He knows exactly what’s about to happen.

I stride from the room without another word, Luka and Ivan falling into step behind me. By the time we descend into the cellar, my knuckles ache from clenching my fists.

The lieutenant is bound to a chair, bruised and bloodied. But defiance still glints in his eyes when he sees me.

I crouch before him, resting my forearms on my knees. “You have information I need. And you will give it to me.”

His lip curls. “I won’t tell you a thing.”

I sigh as if disappointed by his lack of cooperation. Then I slam a fist into his jaw, snapping his head back. A grunt of pain escapes him, but he presses his lips together, refusing to scream.

“Let’s try this again.” I grab his jaw, forcing his face up so he has to meet my gaze. “Where are they my son?”

“Go to hell,” he spits.

I punch him again, feeling cartilage crunch as the blow lands. I grip his broken nose between my fingers, squeezing mercilessly. “Each time you refuse to answer, I will break another bone. You have ten fingers.” I reach for his hand, grip his little finger by the knuckle and twist until something snaps. He jerks and writhes as if he’s been shocked, but his lips stay firmly closed. “Nine fingers left. Shall we continue?”

He makes a choking sound, chest heaving, but still doesn’t speak. I twist another finger, and a cracked scream fills the cellar as another bone breaks. I keep going, and still, nothing.

“Enough of this.” Luka grabs my shoulder. “You’ll have to pull him to pieces before he talks.”

I spin to face him, a fist raised to strike until I abruptly stop myself as I see who I’m looking at. “I will fucking do it!” I snarl.

Luka shakes his head. “Not like this, boss. You need a clear head.”

With effort, I rein in my rage and straighten. But I keep my gaze locked on the lieutenant, who’s panting in pain, eyes glazed and bloodshot. “You have one more chance. Where is he?”

He works his jaw as if gauging whether he can withstand more. I twist one of his broken fingers for good measure. I know it probably won’t weaken him, but it’s satisfying to see him writhing.

“Where. Is…” I say through gritted teeth as I take his hand in mine and slowly begin tightening my grip. Shattered bones grind within my fist. This time, he actually does scream, though it doesn’t dampen his defiance. “My. Son,” I repeat.

He sags…and then leers at me. “Your son? Who knows. But your littlesukagot away. Bolted through the woods and ran like a deer.”

I feel my eyes widen and he smirks. “What did you say?” I blurt.

She got away?

Not dead?

She’s not dead!

Relief hits me like a tidal wave. But something else does, too.

If she got away, then…?

“Aww…she didn’t run straight back to you,podonok?” he taunts, as if reading my mind. Before he can get another word out, my fist connects with his jaw. I hit him so hard that I feel my own knuckles grind together, but it doesn’t bother me. I hit him again, and several times more.

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