As I turned the doorknob, my father said, “I’ll gather our best men to help you. I won’t see you killed over this. But if you get that Kostava scum out of there alive, take him the fuck away from me and Brooklyn. Or I’ll kill him myself. I never want to lay my eyes on that family ever again.”

I nodded my head once. “Understood.”

With that, Kisa and I left the room. Kisa, clearly seeing the look of determination in my eyes, reached down and took my hand.

I wrapped my fingers through hers, then drew to a complete stop. She cupped my cheek. “What is it, lyubov moya?”

Leaning forward, I pressed my forehead to hers. “I’ll kill him, Kisa. If I get a chance, I’ll slaughter Jakhua in Anri’s honor.”

I could see the sadness on Kisa’s face. She never wanted me to kill again. But it was who I was. I just wasn’t sure if she’d ever be okay with this side of me.

“I know you will,” she said quietly.

I closed my eyes and exhaled in relief. As they opened again, I whispered, “I love you, solnyshko.”

“I have you, Luka. Whatever you need, I have you … always,” Kisa said in return, then kissed me on my lips.

Chapter Four

221

I rocked in the corner, clawing at my skin. The pain hadn’t gone. The poison never cooled. Every minute, I spent fighting the pain, the rage.

I couldn’t sleep. The venom inside my veins kept me awake. I couldn’t remember anything of my life. Nothing but the face and voice of my master.

Lifting my head, I heard Master laughing across the room. He was sitting next to a strange man. He looked familiar.

Had I seen him before?

I couldn’t remember. The poison took all my memories away.

Lifting my hands, my muscles ached as they moved under the heavy chains wrapped around my wrist and ankles. My eyes stung, my head ticked as the pain swamped my mind.

Pressing the heels of my hands into my eyes, I tried to breathe, just as a voice made my head snap up.

My eyes met with Master’s and I began to pant. He’d want me to kill. I’d get to kill … stop the fire in my veins.

“221, davdget.” He ordered me to stand and my feet pressed flat to the ground. I forced my body to straighten and bowed my head.

Laughter rang out around the room.

“221, stand before me,” Master demanded.

Turning obediently in the direction of where he sat, I walked forward, ignoring the inner spikes of the cuffs around my ankles and wrists ripping into my skin.

Master was sitting in the room surrounded by many men. There was a ring in the middle. I was standing in the center of the ring, when Master walked beside me.

I gritted my teeth as he put an arm around my shoulder. “You’ve all been gathered here tonight to witness the effect of the drug you’re interested in purchasing.” A hand clapped over my chest and I growled as the hit sliced pain down to my stomach. My hands clenched together as I fought back the scream ripping up my throat. My skin was too itchy to touch. Too on fire to touch!

“This is 221, my prototype for the Type A drug. He answers to my every command. The drug offers one hundred percent obedience from subjects to their masters. It also provides muscle-building components, in addition to a chemical that erases the memories of who they once were. High levels of testosterone and other hormones create a conditioned response to kill, a need so strong in the subjects, it can drive them insane if their urges are not met.” Master laughed. “Perfect weapons against any rivals.”

Master stepped away, and I felt a guard move toward me. Reaching out, he unlocked the shackles round my wrists and ankles. As the chains fell to the floor, the need to kill began to take hold. When Master removed my chains, it was always time to kill.

Black metal hit my open palms and I immediately gripped whatever was in my hands. I looked down. The guard gave me two black sais. I rolled the metal in my grip. It felt familiar. My head tilted to the side as I studied the sharp blades. I knew how to use these weapons. The guard stepped back out of the ring.

I breathed, the room silent as I waited for Master to speak. I could smell sweat and hear the murmur of low voices. My muscles tensed as a surge of heat spread through my body.

“A demonstration!” Master shouted, and the voices around the room grew louder.

“221, mzad.” Master commanded me to ready myself, and my legs parted, my feet heavy on the concrete ground. My head snapped up.

A door opened behind me. In my peripheral vision, I saw the men in the room all sit forward, visibly excited.

My eyes stared straight forward, when Master commanded, “221, t’avis mkhriv.”

I turned, obeying the command, and a man stood before me holding a long chain with razors on its links. Rage built in my chest. Klavs, klavs, klavs—kill, kill, kill—I thought to myself. I gripped my sais tighter as the man smiled at me.

Klavs! KLAVS! I screamed inside my head.

The man began spinning his chain to the side, the heavy links smacking off the hard ground. The man before me was big. But not bigger than me. He couldn’t beat me. I would win. I always won.

“221, sikvidili.” Master ordered me to prepare to bring death. So I readied to bring nothing but death and pain.

“Now, gentlemen. As most are here from, or associated with, the Arziani gulags, and I set up this ring as an example of how the drugs work, 221 will not stop until I command him to, plowing through anyone put in his way.”

My skin shivered in anticipation as Master’s voice raised in volume. The chain belonging to the soon-to-be dead man before me kept spinning and spinning, gaining more and more speed.

“Let’s start this show, shall we?” Master announced. The room fell to silence. “221,” Master called, and every part of me braced for the attack. Seconds passed, then Master ignited my blood when he ordered me to kill. “Klavs!”

Letting my rage take hold, I rushed forward, sais braced as I stalked the dead meat. Lifting his hand, my prey swung the chain, heavy metal aiming for my head. Shifting to the side, I dodged the chain and plowed the long blade of my right sai into his side. Turning, the man had fallen to his knees, his chain falling to the ground. I approached his back and stared at his neck and hairless head. Bracing behind him, I raised both sais, and with a loud roar, sent them through either side of his skull.

Warm blood sprayed against my chest, the fire in my body pumping faster and faster. The man’s body dropped to the floor with a thud, blood pouring from his wounds.

Reaching for my sais, I ripped them from his head. Needing to see more blood run at my feet, I spun the sais in my hand then plunged them into the back of his neck and the front of his throat.

Stepping back, the flames inside pushing at my mind, I began to circle the ring.

I needed more. Needed more blood.

The men in the room were talking in loud voices, the sound stabbing at my mind. I circled and circled waiting for more.

I needed more, when—

“221, shech’erda!” Master’s loud voice cut through to my ears, ordering me to halt. My feet ground to a stop and my head bowed.

Excited murmurs rippled through the crowd.

“You see, gentlemen. One hundred percent obedience and effectiveness.” I breathed hard through my nostrils. My feet wanted to move, but Master’s command held me in check.

“Those who came from the gulags, I’m sure you’ll be happy with what you’ve seen. And those who have come from our other enterprises, please, allow me to demonstrate the Type B drug.”

Sounds of the doors opening again caught my attention. Quiet footsteps entered the ring. Then men started murmuring again, shifting in their seats.