Free Demyan & Ana by Bethany-Kris Page B

back to the floor, close to falling into unconsciousness.
    Demyan couldn’t have that. Quick as a blink, he leaned over, sliced his knife through the fabric of the guy’s shirt, and cut straight across Cavan’s sternum. The pain from the injury at an especially tender spot made Cavan’s eyes fly wide and he shouted. A red ribbon of crimson pooled at the wound and fell to the floor.
    Demyan was done playing games. He grabbed Cavan by the throat and squeezed. “I’ll give you one chance to come at me, Cavan. Just the one. And then, I’m going to make you bleed my sister’s justice to the ground. Try to make it worth it.”
    Cavan spat bloody saliva at Demyan but didn’t move from the floor.
    “I gave you your chance,” Demyan said, unaffected. “Remember that.”
    Cavan struggled as Demyan grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and dragged him across the loft floor. Arms and feet thrashed to find purchase, but the man came up with nothing. Demyan came to a stop at the slight lift on the floor leading to the kitchen area. The useless strikes of Cavan’s arms did nothing to deter Demyan from flipping the bastard onto his stomach and grabbing a fistful of his hair.
    Demyan slammed his booted foot between Cavan’s shoulder blades, pinning him in place as he yanked his head back roughly.
    “Bite the ledge,” Demyan ordered.
    Cavan swallowed audibly. “Fuck you.”
    “Bite it, or I’ll make you do it.”
    When Cavan still refused, Demyan nodded for Koldan to help. Koldan stayed silent while he forced a shouting Cavan’s mouth to open against the edge of the ledge. Hard enough to do damage, but still keep the fucker lucid, Demyan’s heel came down on the back of Cavan’s head.
    Blood, teeth, cartilage and fluid spilled to the floor in a mass of slop, followed by red vomit. Cavan choked as he retched and spat out blood. Demyan fisted Cavan’s hair and pulled him up high enough for his knife to reach the correct spot at his throat to slice the vocal cords.
    “I’m going to enjoy this, Cavan,” Demyan whispered. “Scream for me.”

Chapter Eight
    Ana
     
     
    “You seem better than last week,” Viviana said.
    Ana shrugged and picked at her ptichie moloko . The Russian dessert was one of her most favorite growing up and eating it always left her sentimental and missing her grandmamma Clarissa. “It’s been … okay, Ma.”
    “Good. I was worried about you, Ana. You can always come to me, you know? Or your father. He worries, too. So much.”
    Ana offered her mother a small smile. Then, she took a decent sized bite of the chocolate covered marshmallow sweet in an attempt to end the conversation. At least her side of it.
    The week had gone by quietly, for the most part. Every day became a little easier to bear. Her anxiety wasn’t necessarily lessened, but she didn’t startle as badly as before. The dreams started to ebb. Food had its appeal again.
    Mostly, her ease of mind came from Demyan. He promised it was over the morning after Koldan told her brother who her attacker really was. Ana didn’t know why it was over, she didn’t ask, and she sure as hell didn’t plan to. But, inside, she knew it was. Well, the fear of Cavan was gone, anyway.
    Koldan took her home to her apartment yesterday. Ana actually asked to go. She was ready to stand back up on her own two feet without Demyan’s protection. Try to. She didn’t expect it to be so hard walking back into her place, but it really, really was. Someone—she suspected her brother and Koldan—had cleaned the mess left over from her attack. It didn’t help with the memories.
    She stayed there. She slept that first night. Dreamed, too, but slept.
    Ana swallowed her sweet, noticing her mother watching her closely. “I’m good, Ma. Really.”
    Viviana nodded. “I know, baby. Does it maybe have something to do with a certain Russian hanging around your brother?”
    Ana’s grin formed before she could hide it. “You’re nosy.”
    “Oh, yes. Very