Devil's Lair (Molotov Obsession #1) - Anna Zaires Page 0,91

ripping off a piece of my shirt to fashion a makeshift bandage.

“Looks like it went clean through, but she’s losing a good amount of blood.”

“So is he,” Pavel says, and I tear my gaze from Chloe to glance at her assailant. He’s sitting slumped against a tree trunk a few feet away, with Kirilov putting pressure on his chest wound and Arkash standing guard over them.

“I don’t think he’ll last long enough to get him back to the compound,” Pavel says as I swiftly finish tying the bandage and resume my inspection of Chloe. Her color is a little better, but her eyes are still closed and her breaths are too shallow for my liking. “If you want to interrogate him, it has to be now.”

Fuck. I deliberately tried to only wound the motherfucker so we’d be able to question him. If he dies, so does our chance to get answers.

I quickly finish patting down Chloe and leap to my feet. As much as I want to get my zaychik to a doctor right away, her injuries aren’t life-threatening—but not knowing who her enemies are could be.

These men are pros, which means someone hired them, someone powerful, and I need to know who it is.

“Watch over her,” I tell Pavel and step over to our captive.

He’s breathing in jerky gasps, his face starkly pale and the entire front of his body soaked with blood.

Pavel’s right. He doesn’t have much longer. I meant to shoot him in the shoulder, but he spun around too fast, alerted to my presence by the bullet I had to put through his colleague’s skull. With Pavel and the rest of the team unable to keep up with my terror-fueled sprint, I had no choice but to take out both assassins quickly, before they could do anything to Chloe.

In hindsight, I should’ve wounded them both.

As I crouch in front of the dying man, his lids lift, revealing baleful dark eyes.

“Who the fuck are you people?” he rasps, only to close his eyes, exhausted by the effort.

“Don’t worry about that.” Despite the volcanic rage boiling in my veins, my voice is lethally calm, controlled. “Who hired you? Why are you after her?”

His upper lip twists in a snarl. “Fuck you.”

“You’re dying, you know. I can let you fade away in peace or”—I take out my switchblade and flip it open—“I can mince you into pieces and make you feel every last slice.”

His eyes open heavily. “Fuck off.”

I throw a glance over my shoulder. Chloe is lying perfectly still, her eyes closed. Hopefully, she’s passed out, or at least is so deeply in shock she won’t register this next part.

Either way, there’s no choice.

I need to get answers, fast.

I catch Arkash’s gaze. “Do it.”

The guard pulls out a syringe and stabs the dying assassin in the neck, injecting him with our pharmaceutical division’s patented drug—the one the Russian military pays millions for.

The man barely reacts at first, only swatting at the site of the injection with a feeble hand. A moment later, however, his eyes go wide and he sits upright, his breathing speeding up as color rushes into his pallid cheeks.

“Epinephrine mixed with a few other fun substances,” I tell him cruelly. “It’ll keep you wide awake until the moment you croak. Which will be either a few neutral or a few terrible minutes from now. Your choice.”

He’s panting now, sweat running down his face. “Who the fuck are you?”

“If you don’t start talking, the man who makes your last moments hell.” I nod at Arkash and Kirilov, and they seize the man’s arms, easily lifting them above his head despite his struggles.

“Last chance,” I prompt, but the motherfucker just glares at me.

I smile darkly. I was hoping he’d prove difficult. As much as I prefer to play nice, this is the one time I’m looking forward to applying the skills Pavel taught me.

With the speed of a striking rattler, I stab my knife into the man’s kidney and twist the blade.

The scream that rips from his throat is barely human. The drug not only keeps him conscious, it enhances all sensations, magnifying pain a thousandfold.

Before he can recover, I yank out the blade and slice at his stomach twice, slashing through skin, fat, and muscle in a big X.

His eyes bulge, another inhuman scream tearing through his throat as I peel back the triangular flaps of flesh, revealing his insides.

“Have you ever wondered what it feels like to have your intestines cut out without anesthesia?” I