The Red Circle: A Seven Sons Novel (Bad Moon Rising Book 2) by Nielsen DB & Starkey Laurie & Anderle Michael

Author:Nielsen, DB & Starkey, Laurie & Anderle, Michael [Nielsen, DB]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: BrixBaxter Publishing
Published: 2019-04-12T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 17

When she was reunited with Caleb and Varya, she was grateful not to have to return to the carnage of the banquet hall. Instead, Stanislav escorted Aislinn to a long gallery where some of his guards were lounging around, smoking cigarettes, drinking, and playing cards. It was obvious they were off duty, but they still acknowledged the mafia boss with a great deal of wary respect.

Beyond them, Aislinn spied Caleb and Varya in a state worse for wear. They looked slightly drunk, not surprising since the Russian vampires could drink everyone else six feet under. Their clothes were also bloodstained, and not just with human blood.

“What the hell are you lot doing?” Aislinn asked through gritted teeth, shaking her head as Caleb aimed a SIG-Sauer P220ST at Zhenya’s head. It was William Tell without the apple, and with a handgun instead of a crossbow.

“Settling things once and for all!” Varya snickered, her feet up on the table as she leaned back in her chair and watched the spectacle unfolding before her.

Caleb pulled the trigger, and the sound of the gunshot echoed loudly through the chamber. The bullet hit Zhenya between the eyes.

“Go, go, go, go, go, go—” they all chanted in unison.

Zhenya’s face was twisted in a grimace, black blood pouring from the wound, as she huffed and puffed, attempting to push the bullet out.

Aislinn exchanged a startled look with Stanislav.

“It’s a bullet test,” one of the burly guards explained in a thick Russian accent, placing a large bet on the card table. “Like in the movies. We play a drinking game. Can a vampire eject a bullet from the body like a splinter working its way out from under the skin?”

What the Vlad? I leave them for five minutes, and this is what they get up to? Shit!

“Go, go, go, go, go, go—”

Caleb was roaring with laughter, pumping the air. “She’s losing it. She’s finished. Yeet! I’m declaring myself the winner. Boys, go get the bone saw.”

“Nyet!” Zhenya put a large hand up, signaling for them to back off. By now, her face was flushed from both her exertion and the sluggish black blood oozing from the wound which was rapidly closing up. But suddenly, the bullet’s rim could be seen poking through the opening of the hole in her head. Then the copper casing followed. The bloody slug fell to the floor with a sharp pinging sound. She punched the air and, turning, gave Caleb the finger.

“Back at you, bitch,” he muttered and cast her a filthy look.

The stocky female Malum sauntered up to the group, took the bottle from the table, tipped it up, and drank straight from it. More blood flowed down her chin and onto the front of her clothes. The other Russians all erupted in cheers.

“I’m going to make you all my werebitches,” Varya said with a throaty laugh. “This time, we’re going to try to catch a bullet with our teeth.”

“No, we’re not.” Aislinn glowered at them furiously. She refused to look at Stanislav.

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