I flicked our lights off and on, answering their summons, as my stomach roiled. “A small meeting about a big deal,” I muttered. “It’s not every day the Mafia gets exactly what it’s been wanting.” There were more cars than even I’d anticipated.
“Then let’s give it to them. Get this over with. Let’s make this deal.”
I nodded. “Follow my lead and stay cool.” Opening my door, I slid out of the car.
Briefly blinded by the glare of headlights, I realized if this didn’t go just right it meant the end of the both of us. Quickly. And without us the Mafia would feel even less reason to pause in going for Max and Cat.… A kidnapping would be quieter without the threat of an alpha in the house.
There were things I hadn’t dared tell Pietr. He needed to be as natural as possible. If I’d told him how I expected this to go down he’d have overanalyzed things. And one moment free of pure instinct—a heartbeat’s worth of thought—of recalling what you’d believed was the right decision when you ran the scenario through your mind: It became the difference between life and death.
Pietr mustn’t hesitate when it came down to it.
My contact, Ivan, according to the name he most frequently used, met us in the intersection of the awkward spotlight the cars’ headlights cast, his face dripping with shadow. I put my game face on. “Where’s Dmitri?”
“In the car. He wants to see your boy before he bothers getting out.”
“Pietr.” I snapped my fingers.
Pietr snarled at the insult, but came around from behind me, eyes glowing and jaw set grimly.
Ivan looked him up and down.
Pietr spread his arms wide and threw his head back. Slowly, as a testament to his easy animal grace, he took a turn, showcasing his long lines—all muscle and sinew held together by a nearly perfect bone structure. In the stark light he was a young god emblazoned by the headlights cutting through the cold and dark. He stopped, cocked his head, and glowered at the much shorter Ivan. “I don’t do pirouettes.”
I heard a door open. Someone clapped.
Other doors opened and my heart sped, knowing what came next. We would both be tested. I managed to keep my hand from instinctively going to the gun hanging in my jacket pocket. I’d seen the drama played out before—been one of the players once.
Proving my loyalty.
“Impressive, but I need to see more. The form is splendid, but form without function? Nothing but dead meat. Perhaps something more directly applicable to your unique skill set?” The clapping man, Dmitri, if my guess was right, stepped into the circle of light, keeping his face to us so his most telling features fell into hard shadow. I could make out short-cropped hair, a lean, medium build, but if I ever needed to identify him in daylight I would surely fail.
Not Pietr, though, I knew.
Pietr had his scent.
Pietr turned, hearing what I knew was inevitable. Someone was at our car. Our headlights flicked off.
Pietr snarled and he widened his stance, lowering his center of gravity.
I stayed perfectly still, tamping down my fear. Panic did no good, gained us no advantage. And this was all about advantage and bluff—there would be no fair play.
All but one set of headlights blinked off.
We knew they wanted his stealth, his speed and strength, but those came in his human form as much as any other. But what else they wanted to see, I wasn’t sure of. I could only guess.
I stepped back, mirroring Dmitri, and Pietr drew up to his full height, peering into the surrounding darkness, eyes catching fire as he heard the whisper of footsteps circling.
They came at him slowly at first, two at a time.
Shadowy figures slipped in and out of the headlight’s glare, taking swipes at him, pulling his attention different directions as they tried to get the advantage, to get him unbalanced and judge his raw potential, his natural state as a fighter.
Dmitri ringed the action until he stood beside me. “He’s holding back,” he muttered, disgusted. “That will get him killed.” He slapped his hands together. More mafiosos joined in.
I saw the flash of a knife and heard Pietr’s snarl of surprise.
“I have no use for men who hold back. What did you bring me, Alexi? An oborot, or a boy trying to be an oborot? Faster!” Dmitri yelled. “Don’t you dare hold back. He’s no boy—he’s a beast! A monster! Remind him of what he is!”
More men dove for him, more knives flashed, and Pietr’s snarl deepened and thickened and though he no longer faced me, I knew his eyes were bright as fresh blood—the beast readying to rip free.
They ringed him now, knives flicking out, taunting and tearing at his human-looking flesh, an attack on every side meant to take him down a piece at a time and break his control. To force the change he seemed determined to hold back.
There was a rrrip, a startled howl. His clothes hung in tatters, and his flesh became a pin cushion.
Pacing off a slow circle they dodged in and out, each contact eliciting a snarl or a snap from Pietr. And still, he did not change.
Dmitri looked at me. “Cigarette?” he asked, looking meaningfully at the lump in my shirt pocket.
“Of course,” I replied, pulling out the box instead of the gun I so desperately wanted. I kept my hands steady as I shook a cigarette free, ignoring my brother’s sudden yelp of pain.
“You could still find a home with us, Alexi. Light.”
As I pulled the lighter loose, Nadezhda’s letter tumbled out, her picture fluttering free.
Dmitri plucked it from midair and took my lighter. In the yellow glow the lighter sparked he examined the photo a moment. He lit his cigarette. “She has not forgotten you, either,” he mentioned, letting the picture fall between us.
He said it as if Nadezhda’s remembering me was far worse than her forgetting me.
And I knew it was.
I watched the photo hit the ground, roll across the dirt of the junkyard, and I didn’t reach for it, didn’t dare. No distractions. No connections. So instead I watched Nadezhda’s image stolen away by the chilling breeze and returned my gaze to a sight that tore at me almost as much as it tore at him—Pietr’s proving.
Dmitri’s attention refocused, too. His boredom obvious, he snapped, “Finish it!”
The last headlights blinked out and all of the men rushed Pietr at once.
Above us a spotlight flashed on, dangling from a wrecking ball and illuminating the writhing hell a hundred feet below it.