Riot
Page 60
The three males all looked to one another. When 818 faced me again, he asked, “Why? Why did he kill her?”
“Because it’s what he does,” I snapped, and felt my anger rising to boiling point.
“And Inessa?” the Georgian questioned. Valentin growled low, his crazed, piercing eyes never leaving mine as he waited for my answer,
I felt my heart turn black with hate as I replied, “He took her. She was here with me. She came to me. And he took her. He found us and took her as they pinned me back with picanas.”
Valentin launched himself off the cell door and began to pace the hallway floor. His fists were balled at his sides. 221 moved to be near the guard. I knew it was to stop him from fleeing down the hallways.
“You knew his name.” My eyes left Valentin and focused on the blond male.
I nodded. My stomach sank when I thought of what Inessa had discovered about us. Ilya and Inessa, from Russia.
“Inessa told me last night,” I said, and watched Valentin pause. He kept his head down, eyes focused on the floor, but I knew he was listening. Gripping the bars, I said, “Neither of us knew our names. Inessa’s chiri discovered that 152 is Inessa Belrova and I, 901, am Ilya Konev from Russia. We were both taken from orphanages as children.”
Valentin’s head snapped up and he muttered darkly, “Wraiths.”
I nodded. “I don’t remember much, but I remember them snatching me from my bed.” I sighed and ran my hand down my face. “Inessa has been having dreams. She has been having dreams of a boy that held her tightly as they were taken by the Wraiths. She dreamed of a female all in black that made her feel fear. She dreamed of waving good-bye to a boy. It made her feel sad. But she couldn’t remember more; only flashes, odd images came to her mind. A scarred man in a collar telling her to hold on. Telling her she was more than just a number. Telling her that one day he would come and set her free.”
I looked to 818. “She was also told that she had a brother, Valentin Belrov. She didn’t know where he was. If he was alive or dead.” I looked to Valentin, who was now staring at me, a grief-stricken expression on his face. Directly addressing him, I said, “She had seen you in the pits and you made her think of the male in her mind. She doesn’t know if the images are of her brother, because they are of an older male. She only remembers her brother as a child. But she saw you. For a moment she entertained the thought that you could be him, but you look different from her mental images.”
Valentin stroked his hand over his neck, over the red scar. “I look different because I am free.”
“But…?” I trailed off.
“I am Valentin Belrov. I am Inessa’s brother. I have been trying to free her for many years.”
My heart raced and my eyes widened as he confided, “We are here to get her back. We are here to kill Arziani and burn this pit to the motherfucking ground.”
I shook my head, convinced I hadn’t heard right, when 818 held out his hand. “I’m Luka Tolstoi, knayz to the New York Volkov Bratva.” I stared at his hand, then lifted my hand and threaded it through the bars to clasp his.
“I don’t know what a Bratva is. Or a knayz, for that matter.”
He smirked. “Neither did I when I escaped my gulag. I have learned a great deal since.”
“You were in a gulag?” I questioned. Luka nodded and pointed to 221. “This is Zaal Kostava. He is the Lideri of the Kostava Clan, a Georgian crime family. He was held here as a child along with his twin. The drugs were tested and developed on him.”
Zaal walked forward and offered his hand to me, too. “Georgian, but an enemy to Arziani. A rival crime family.”
“He experimented on you and your brother?”
He nodded. “My brother died. I have a sister in New York.” He pointed to Valentin, who was silently watching from behind. “Arziani sent Valentin to come and kill me and my family. He was Mistress Arziani’s Ubiytsa.”
“Mistress Arziani is dead,” I stated.
A cold smile spread on Valentin’s disfigured face. “I know. I killed her.” Valentin stepped forward. “He took me and Inessa from an orphanage and made me her personal assassin. She used Inessa as bait to keep me submissive. I captured my Zoya, Zaal’s sister. But we fell in love. When Mistress found out I had betrayed her, she told me she would send Inessa back here. But it was too late. Arziani had already seen her on a screen and demanded her return.”
“To be his High Mona,” I added, the unfolding picture making sense.
Valentin nodded. “We are all fighters. We entered this tournament to get her back.”
“How?”
Luka spoke. “Not all of the Wraiths are loyal to Arziani; many are forced or sold to service as we all were.” I glanced to the guard over Zaal’s shoulder, and he flicked his chin. I faced Luka with a confused frown. “Selected chiri, the ones that administer the drugs to the males, have, from the beginning of this week, been injecting all fighters with the antidote my family have developed to counteract the Type A drug. They have been doing this every day. The guards on our side have been talking to the fighters. They have been preparing them.”
“Preparing them for what?” I asked, my heart finding a new beat.
“For the riot,” Luka said calmly. As I stared at his male, I knew that he was a born leader. Everything about how he spoke and the calmness that he kept showed to me it was the role he was made to fulfill.
“The riot?” I asked, my heart pumping my blood through my body like a torrent.
Valentin stepped closer to me and through gritted teeth said, “The final. We three are in the final. After we slaughter the fourth male, we will rush the crowd and cull every one of the sick bastards. Everything is in place.” He smiled a cold smile. “Then we will go for Master.”
“No,” I hissed and hit at the cell door. “He’s mine.”
Valentin challenged my stare. But I would take that kill. Master was mine.
“You have a match today,” Luka said. I nodded my head. He looked to Zaal and raised a brow. Zaal addressed me. “You are wounded.”
“I will win.”
“Even injured?” he questioned.
“I will win,” I repeated, “I am the champion of the Blood Pit. The Arziani Pit Bull. I am undefeated on this sand. And until Master used my Inessa to control me, I never even gained a scratch in a match.”
“Because it’s what he does,” I snapped, and felt my anger rising to boiling point.
“And Inessa?” the Georgian questioned. Valentin growled low, his crazed, piercing eyes never leaving mine as he waited for my answer,
I felt my heart turn black with hate as I replied, “He took her. She was here with me. She came to me. And he took her. He found us and took her as they pinned me back with picanas.”
Valentin launched himself off the cell door and began to pace the hallway floor. His fists were balled at his sides. 221 moved to be near the guard. I knew it was to stop him from fleeing down the hallways.
“You knew his name.” My eyes left Valentin and focused on the blond male.
I nodded. My stomach sank when I thought of what Inessa had discovered about us. Ilya and Inessa, from Russia.
“Inessa told me last night,” I said, and watched Valentin pause. He kept his head down, eyes focused on the floor, but I knew he was listening. Gripping the bars, I said, “Neither of us knew our names. Inessa’s chiri discovered that 152 is Inessa Belrova and I, 901, am Ilya Konev from Russia. We were both taken from orphanages as children.”
Valentin’s head snapped up and he muttered darkly, “Wraiths.”
I nodded. “I don’t remember much, but I remember them snatching me from my bed.” I sighed and ran my hand down my face. “Inessa has been having dreams. She has been having dreams of a boy that held her tightly as they were taken by the Wraiths. She dreamed of a female all in black that made her feel fear. She dreamed of waving good-bye to a boy. It made her feel sad. But she couldn’t remember more; only flashes, odd images came to her mind. A scarred man in a collar telling her to hold on. Telling her she was more than just a number. Telling her that one day he would come and set her free.”
I looked to 818. “She was also told that she had a brother, Valentin Belrov. She didn’t know where he was. If he was alive or dead.” I looked to Valentin, who was now staring at me, a grief-stricken expression on his face. Directly addressing him, I said, “She had seen you in the pits and you made her think of the male in her mind. She doesn’t know if the images are of her brother, because they are of an older male. She only remembers her brother as a child. But she saw you. For a moment she entertained the thought that you could be him, but you look different from her mental images.”
Valentin stroked his hand over his neck, over the red scar. “I look different because I am free.”
“But…?” I trailed off.
“I am Valentin Belrov. I am Inessa’s brother. I have been trying to free her for many years.”
My heart raced and my eyes widened as he confided, “We are here to get her back. We are here to kill Arziani and burn this pit to the motherfucking ground.”
I shook my head, convinced I hadn’t heard right, when 818 held out his hand. “I’m Luka Tolstoi, knayz to the New York Volkov Bratva.” I stared at his hand, then lifted my hand and threaded it through the bars to clasp his.
“I don’t know what a Bratva is. Or a knayz, for that matter.”
He smirked. “Neither did I when I escaped my gulag. I have learned a great deal since.”
“You were in a gulag?” I questioned. Luka nodded and pointed to 221. “This is Zaal Kostava. He is the Lideri of the Kostava Clan, a Georgian crime family. He was held here as a child along with his twin. The drugs were tested and developed on him.”
Zaal walked forward and offered his hand to me, too. “Georgian, but an enemy to Arziani. A rival crime family.”
“He experimented on you and your brother?”
He nodded. “My brother died. I have a sister in New York.” He pointed to Valentin, who was silently watching from behind. “Arziani sent Valentin to come and kill me and my family. He was Mistress Arziani’s Ubiytsa.”
“Mistress Arziani is dead,” I stated.
A cold smile spread on Valentin’s disfigured face. “I know. I killed her.” Valentin stepped forward. “He took me and Inessa from an orphanage and made me her personal assassin. She used Inessa as bait to keep me submissive. I captured my Zoya, Zaal’s sister. But we fell in love. When Mistress found out I had betrayed her, she told me she would send Inessa back here. But it was too late. Arziani had already seen her on a screen and demanded her return.”
“To be his High Mona,” I added, the unfolding picture making sense.
Valentin nodded. “We are all fighters. We entered this tournament to get her back.”
“How?”
Luka spoke. “Not all of the Wraiths are loyal to Arziani; many are forced or sold to service as we all were.” I glanced to the guard over Zaal’s shoulder, and he flicked his chin. I faced Luka with a confused frown. “Selected chiri, the ones that administer the drugs to the males, have, from the beginning of this week, been injecting all fighters with the antidote my family have developed to counteract the Type A drug. They have been doing this every day. The guards on our side have been talking to the fighters. They have been preparing them.”
“Preparing them for what?” I asked, my heart finding a new beat.
“For the riot,” Luka said calmly. As I stared at his male, I knew that he was a born leader. Everything about how he spoke and the calmness that he kept showed to me it was the role he was made to fulfill.
“The riot?” I asked, my heart pumping my blood through my body like a torrent.
Valentin stepped closer to me and through gritted teeth said, “The final. We three are in the final. After we slaughter the fourth male, we will rush the crowd and cull every one of the sick bastards. Everything is in place.” He smiled a cold smile. “Then we will go for Master.”
“No,” I hissed and hit at the cell door. “He’s mine.”
Valentin challenged my stare. But I would take that kill. Master was mine.
“You have a match today,” Luka said. I nodded my head. He looked to Zaal and raised a brow. Zaal addressed me. “You are wounded.”
“I will win.”
“Even injured?” he questioned.
“I will win,” I repeated, “I am the champion of the Blood Pit. The Arziani Pit Bull. I am undefeated on this sand. And until Master used my Inessa to control me, I never even gained a scratch in a match.”
