Page 92 of Deviant Need

“Don’t talk, Mikhail,” he snaps, cutting me off. “Consider this your punishment.”

He shoves Daniil down into the seat, sitting down next to him with the gun still trained on his temple. Daniil’s face has gone pale, his hands gripping the armrests.

I’m going to kill him.

The cage door creaks behind me, and I spin around. Two men step inside, both of them massive and clearly trained, holding knives. They move to block the exit, trapping me inside the cage with them.

“You wanted to fight so badly,” my father says from his seat. “So fight.”

One of them lunges at me with the knife, and I barely make it back in time, my leg snapping up to kick him in the chest. He flies backward and lands with a heavy thud against the cage wall.

The other one comes at me immediately, his knife slashing toward my ribs, and I twist to dodge it, but he’s faster than I expected. The blade cuts across my elbow, and my sweater tears open, blood pouring out instantly and soaking through the fabric.

Pain shoots up my arm, but I don’t have time to think about it.

The first guy is already back on his feet, charging at me again. I sidestep and catch his wrist as he swings, twisting it hard until I hear something crack. He grunts in pain but doesn’t drop the knife and brings his other fist up to slam into my jaw. My head snaps to the side, and I taste blood, copper flooding my mouth.

The second one comes from behind and wraps his arm around my throat, pulling me backward into a chokehold. The knife appears in front of my face, inches from my eye, and I lock onto his wrist with both hands, pushing it away with everything I have. My lungs are screaming for air and black spots dance at the edges of my vision.

My head slams backward into the guy’s face, and his nose crunches under the impact.

His grip loosens just enough for me to rip free and spin around, driving my elbow into his temple.

He staggers backward but doesn’t go down, blood streaming from his broken nose. The first guy is coming at me again, knife raised high and aiming for my throat. I duck under his swing, and the blade whistles past my ear, so close I feel the air move.

Driving my fist into his stomach with everything I have left, he doubles over, gasping for air. I bring my other fist up hard into his face and blood explodes from his nose. He drops to his knees, and I kick him in the side, sending him sprawling across the floor.

The second one lunges with his knife aimed at my side, and I twist away but not fast enough. The blade slices across my ribs, shallow but burning like fire, and warm blood soaks into my shirt.

I catch his arm before he can pull back and jerk him forward, using his momentum against him to throw him off balance. He stumbles, and I kick the back of his knee hard, sending him crashing down onto the cage floor.

Before he can get up, I’m on him, gripping his head with both hands and slamming it into the metal grating once, twice, three times until his body goes limp beneath me. I shove him off and stand up slowly, breathing hard through the pain radiating from my elbow and ribs. Blood drips steadily from both wounds, pooling on the cage floor beneath me.

I turn and look through the cage at my father, who’s still sitting there calmly next to Daniil with the gun pointed at his head.

Picking up one of the knives from the ground, I drive it into the first guy’s throat, then the second. Blood sprays across the cage floor, and I don’t look back as I kick open the door and jump out, heading straight for my father.

He stands and points the gun directly at my face, stopping me in my tracks.

“Take another step, and I’ll put a bullet in your head. Drop the knife,” he says calmly.

I freeze, breathing hard, blood dripping steadily from my wounds. The knife falls from my grip and clanks against the concrete floor.

He walks toward me slowly, the gun never wavering, until he’s right in my face and he brings it up to my temple. “You want to know why I keep you around, Mikhail? Because you’re useful when I point you at something. But tools that break everything eventually get thrown out. Wouldn’t be a big loss, you are the biggest disappointment of my life.”

The words hit me hard, and my jaw clenches.

He grips the back of my neck, fingers digging in hard enough that I know there will be bruises. “You’ve got potential buried under all that rage and pathetic weakness. But potential doesn’t mean anything if you can’t control it. Your brothers disappoint me in boring, predictable ways. You disappoint me in new and creative ones every single day.”

He shoves me back hard and I stumble but stay on my feet, then he points the gun at both of us.

“Listen to me very carefully,” he says, his voice dropping lower. “You look into Daniil’s past again, and you’re dead. You think you’re curious? You have no idea what hell you’re inviting by digging into this. No idea who’s watching for exactly this kind of stupidity. Pray to whatever god you believe in that your idiocy hasn’t already gotten us all killed.”

He gives me a final look and then walks off, cursing under his breath and barking something at his guards who stand there waiting for him by the entrance.

That’s when I see Vincent’s head on the floor next to his body, blood pooling around it. Daniil rushes to me so fast the air leaves my lungs when he crashes into me.

“A-are you okay? He’s losing it,” His hands hovering over my wounds like he’s afraid to touch them.