Chapter Thirty-Four

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• Silva •

By the time I get to Irisa, she's nowhere to be seen.

All that's left is Norine on the ground, blood seeping through her jacket and onto the snow. The spread of crimson trickles too quickly as the snow melts from her body heat. Silver nails impaled on her back in erratic patterns, but she's still alive as her trembling hand blindly searches for her gun.

For a man with a limp and a missing collarbone, that serial killer took off after my Irisa rather quickly. He managed to break through my men's formation and slipped into what was supposed to be a protected area.

He's here for Irisa.

I have to find her before he gets his filthy hands on her. He chose a nail gun as a weapon, so he's ready to torture her.

The Decaying Sable will answer to me when I take care of this mess. They can't even keep an eye on their man; I don't expect things to go well on the Russian government side.

I find the irregular footprints by the tree line and follow the rushed patterns. They guide me deeper through the dense trees, losing my presence from my men's vicinity as I clench the gun in my hand.

The snow-veiled path and crowded trees tease my finger on the gun's trigger. While the wind lowers the temperature around my neck, the rampant heat in my soaring blood clings to the fabric of my clothes.

I track the drops of blood on the snow and notice the distance that it splats on. Irisa is hurt, but it doesn't seem like a big wound considering the lack of blood.

It can't be from that man. The permanent limp that I gave him with a scalpel through his kneecap doesn't allow him to make big strides.

I'm beginning to regret not crippling him when I had the chance. He doesn't need to walk to get my message to Sable's leader that I will collect the debt they owe me for the interrupted gun deal.

There's a scream in the distance that rips through the trees, frightened and broken.

I race towards the sound as the image of Irisa, defenseless and scared, flashes in my mind. I try to abandon the mental image, but I fail every time as the blood trail grows with concerning amount.

Stale oxygen travels into my lungs before the scent of copper hits. Irisa is hurt more than I originally thought. I hiss under my breath and rush between the looming trees.

I lose track of where I am as I'm forced to stillness; the disturbed snow had spread the faded blood around, and a rusted nail tacked on a tree trunk.

She must have fallen. I can't find where they went after. The snow is too disrupted to track, and there aren't more blood drops.

A gunshot ricochets explosively over my head. I snap my attention to the direction and realize it's coming from where Norine was lying. While I don't want to give up this trail to find Irisa, I can't ignore the possibility she ran back to Norine.

It's human instinct to find safety; Norine has a gun, and Irisa needs protection.

Blistering heat tears through my legs as I run back and press my shoes harder on the sludge snow for friction. A broken branch snaps under my weight, but the echo of the gunshot still rings in my ears.

Bright lights mark the tree line as I sprint faster, and bursts of colors shred through porcelain whiteness. I jump back reflexively, avoiding the spirals of colors before the sight settles in my mind.

Norine and the man tussle on the ground, fighting for the nail gun while Norine's back stains the snow with crimson.

I step closer to search for Irisa and find her on the ground, blood seeping through the tears of her coat. Her skin glares through the pants as they're also ripped.

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