by LP Lovell
“Don’t,” I plead. I don’t want to hurt him. I don’t trust myself not to. He offers me a sad smile and holds his hands up, coming to a halt.
“This is just part of the process, to make you the best,” he assures me. The best… it seems like an unimportant notion now, but I understand. This is my purpose.
“Sacrifices must be made, little dove.”
I look across the room, locking eyes with Alex. His expression is serious. It’s been a long time since I saw the lightness and laughter in his eyes. The training has broken him down, but he still offers me a small smile. Nicholai dismisses me and I feel all eyes on my back as I walk away. I’ve become the circus freak, more animal than human. Feral. Wild. That’s what happens when you’re stripped of your fundamental morals and programmed to become a monster.
I go to the dorm and sit on the floor, bracing my back against my bed. It’s just the four of us living here now. Sunny broke under the first round of touch conditioning and was taken away. I don’t know where. Sasha walks in the room and spares me a brief glance, grabbing a towel and heading for the showers. We used to be so close, but of course that couldn’t last. Friendship is a form of dependence, and dependence is a weakness. Now we’re simply two people who understand what the other is going through, but are too consumed in our own torment to help each other. He passes Alex on his way out. Alex comes and sits to my side. He wraps his arm around me. They’ve made it so that I can’t stand human touch, but it’s different with him. He’s Alex, my Alex. His touch could never evoke fear and I could never harm him. I lean into his shoulder and feel his warm breath blowing through the strands of my hair.
“That’s getting harder and harder to watch,” he murmurs. I hate seeing Alex go through it as well, but of course he reacts the way he always does in a fight and comes out swinging.
I tilt my face up so I can see him. “It’s necessary.” I know he doesn’t agree with me and he doesn’t understand my loyalty to Nicholai. Alex was the son of a bratva soldier, his destiny mapped out from youth. He’s been here since he was ten. He knows nothing else. He doesn’t know what it is to feel weak and helpless. He will never understand my gratitude to Nicholai. This is hard, of course it is. If it were easy everyone would be the best and not everyone can be the elite.
“I wish it weren’t.” His eyes dropped to my lips and he lifts his hand, stroking his fingers down the side of my face. This is still the spec of warmth in my cold and calculated world. The only time that my mind is silent, peaceful. Alex is my safe harbour. He wraps his hands around my waist and pulls me until I’m straddling him, sitting in his lap. He pulls his knees up, cradling me between his strong body and his thighs. His hands cup my face and me touches his forehead against mine until we’re breathing each others air.
“I love you, Titch,” he whispers and I squeeze my eyes shut, fighting back the wave of emotion. I love him, but saying it out loud feels too real. The two halves of me fight, one side telling me this is weak whilst the other clings to Alex with every fibre of her being. A stray tear falls onto my cheek and he presses his lips over my skin, catching it. “Don’t cry.”
I don’t want to talk or think about things, so I kiss him. His lips brush over mine and I close my eyes, finding comfort in the sweet caress of his mouth against mine. Everything stops for a moment. He is the calm in a world of chaos. A breath of cleansing air in a toxic atmosphere. Without him I couldn’t survive here. The strong survive, but he is my strength.
“First to draw blood wins,” James says, gesturing Alex and I forwards. I step out of line and into the open space otherwise known as the ring. Alex stands across from me, a smirk on his lips. When I step to the left he mimics it, always keeping a distance between us. I palm the blade in my hand, wrapping my fingers firmly around the hilt. I wait for him to move and he does. I’ve watched Alex fight and fought him myself enough to know that he is skilled but impulsive. When you’re outmatched by fifty or so pounds, patience is key. Brawn won’t get me anywhere here. He rushes me, and I duck, swinging my blade towards his thigh. I never make contact. He blocks the hit, going for my arm. I roll and come up behind him, jabbing my elbow into his lower back. He grunts and then huffs a laugh. Arrogant bastard. I swiped his legs out and he goes down hard. I’m straddling his body with a blade at his throat before he can blink. He grins, biting down on his bottom lip. Blood. They want blood. I lightly flick blade over the base of his neck, barely scratching the skin. A thin line of blood wells, and I push off him quickly.
“Good,” James says to me before turning to Alex.
“Arrogant, messy, undisciplined. Disappointing.” Alex climbs to his feet and says nothing as he falls back in line. I feel bad, but the truth is, Alex always holds back when he fights me. He leaves his guard open, his attacks are messy. He pretty much hands me the win. And when I take it, I make a concerted effort to do as little damage as possible. I don’t know why that is. I care about Sasha just as much as I do Alex, but when we fight it’s like a bloodbath. He’s ruthless and I’m brutal. I’m bruised for weeks afterwards.
Nicholai comes to stand next to me as we watch Sasha and Adam fight. He’s been for the last two days.
“You held back on the boy,” he says without taking his eyes off Sasha.
“Why cause more damage than necessary?” I ask, twisting my head towards him. “He’s one of your assets. I don’t want to break your stuff.” I smirk and he lets out a low chuckle.
“Break him all you want, little dove. He’s disposable. They all are, except you…and Sasha.” The words make me sick to my stomach but I make sure it doesn’t show on my face. He touches my shoulder and I flinch, the voices roaring to life in my head. Kill, kill, kill. It’s like a curtain descending, blinding me to anything and everything else. “Control it. Breathe. It is an advantage to have such reflexes over an enemy, but you must be stealthy. You are a killer, but you must be like the Oleander flower, beautiful, delicate to look at, but deadly. I will give you the weapons, little dove, but you must control them, hide them. Unleash them only when needed.” He lets go and I release the breath I had been holding. “It appears this training is working a little too well. It is curious though…you do not tense when this boy touches you.” He jerks his head towards Alex and I’m instantly alert. He can’t know about Alex and I. He wouldn’t like it.
“How so? If he touches me it’s to strike me, and I strike back.” A smile pulls at the corners of his lips and he says nothing else, instead, taking a lollipop from his pocket and unwrapping it before putting it in his mouth.
He knows.
11
“Perhaps the unattached, the unwanted, the unloved could grow to love as lushly as anyone else.” - Vanessa Diffenbaugh.
I’m jolted awake and I’m confused for a few seconds, but then my eyes adjust and I see the man standing beside my bed, pointing a gun at me. I react without thinking, years of training kicking in seamlessly. I grab his wrist and divert it away from me before twisting my body and landing a kick to his gut. He coughs and doubles over. I’m standing over him holding his own gun to his head when something hits me in the chest. My entire body seizes and then goes completely numb. A Taser. Two men carry me from the room. I try and call Alex’s name, but I can’t seem to find my voice. Nothing seems to work, as if my brain has been cut off from the rest of my body.
I’m dragged along a corridor and down a set of stairs before I’m dumped on a cold floor. I groan and rub over the spot on my chest where two spots of blood are blossoming, making my tank top sticky. Taser prongs. There’s shouting, a door being slammed and then the soft stroke of fingers on my jaw.
“Little dove, wake up.” I groan and manage to climb to my feet, freezing when I see the figure chained to one wall of the empty room. Alex. His torso is bare, covered in slices that bleed down his stomach. Sweat mixes with the blood, coating the chiselled muscles of his body in a crimson glow. His dark hair is damp with sweat and a few loose tendrils fall across his face.
“Alex.” I whisper his name and he lifts his head slightly. Tears prick at the backs of my eyes and I bite the inside of my cheek to stop them. “What is this?” I whisper, unable to bring myself to look at Nicholai, because the truth is, I know what this is. This is why I hid my feelings for Alex from him.
Nicholai circles around behind me before moving to stand right beside Alex. He grips Alex’s jaw and twists his face to the side, forcing me to look at the bruised, bloody mess. “This boy, you have an affection for him, no?”
“I…” I force myself to look at Nicholai. “Please.” My voice breaks slightly. “He’s my friend.” A stray tear tracks down my cheek and I let it fall.
Nicholai rushes towards me. “Shhh, shhh, little dove.” He wipes away the tear and cups my cheek. “I will help you.” He’s going to help Alex? “You see, this…love, it is such a crippling weakness.”
“No.” I shake my head. He removes his gun from the holster and takes my hand, forcing my numb fingers to wrap around the hilt.
“I do this for you, little dove.” He steps to my side and I stare down at the gun.
My hand shakes, my heart hammering in my chest so hard that my pulse thrums against my ear drums, a symphony of fear and heartbreak. I know what’s coming. Of course I do. How stupid I was to think that I would get to have anything good.
“Please,” I beg, lifting my eyes to Nicholai.
His expression softens and he reaches out, brushing a tendril of hair away from my face. “Become what you were meant to be, little dove.” His thumb trails over my jaw and I close my eyes as more tears slip down my cheek. “Put a bullet in his head, or put a bullet in your own,” he says, his voice suddenly harsh. “You cannot live with weakness. Fix it one way or another.” His lips brush over the side of my face.
I lift my gaze, staring over his arm at the far wall. “Please don’t make me do this,” I beg. Tears blur my vision and I don’t care that I look weak.
Nicholai looks at me is disgust. “See what he does to you? Make a choice.”
The concrete walls of the room seem to press in on me until I can barely breathe. Nicholai’s hand slips away from my face and he steps back. My trembling finger rests over the trigger of the gun and I swallow heavily. I lift my eyes to Alex, chained to the far wall. I stare into his beautiful eyes, so full of pain, so full of longing and I know beyond any doubt that I love Alex. He’s my sanctuary, my safe harbour. Alex is the good in a world of evil, the beautiful light in the ugly darkness. To kill him is to kill any remaining good in me.
Meeting his gaze, I tighten the grip on the gun. His eyes are resigned, begging me, but not for reprieve. He’s begging me to shoot him. “Do it, Titch. Shoot me.” Oh, god. My heart shatters.
“I love you,” I choke. Tears track down my cheeks and a sharp pain rips through my chest.
“Shoot him, Una!” Nicholai roars.
With a ragged cry I lift the gun, aiming between his eyes.
“Forgive me,” I whisper on a sob and pull the trigger. His eyes never leave mine as the bullet rips through his skull, leaving a hole in his forehead. His body slumps forward, his arms pulled taught against the chains. The steady flow of blood hitting the concrete is the only sound I hear.
For long moment I just stand there, staring at Alex’s body. Inside I’m screaming, crying, sobbing. My heart is fracturing into tiny pieces, shattering and crumbling to dust. I’m breaking, collapsing in on myself and the pain is so intense I’m not sure I’ll survive it. I don’t think I want to. My lungs seize and my heart splutters in my chest. I hear the gun clatter to the ground, falling from my numb fingers.
I mourn for the boy I loved, for the girl I used to be, a girl who never would have done this. I just killed the best person I know, the only person who truly cared about me besides Nicholai, and it was Nicholai who put the gun in my hand, he who forced me to this. Alex cared enough that he begged me to shoot him instead of myself. And I’m enough of a monster that I did it.
“Little dove. Una.” I lift my gaze to Nicholai, and as I look at him, something inside me snaps. The pain, the noise, it all stops. I stop. I cease to feel. It’s like a switch flips in my mind. Everything that made me who I was blinks out like a broken light bulb. The numbness that ensues is peaceful, easy. I embrace the cold detachment with open arms, revelling in the darkness. After all, don’t monsters live in the dark?
12
Nicholai
“The world breaks everyone, and afterward, some are strong at the broken places.” – Ernest Hemmingway.
I smile. There she is, my perfect little dove. So strong, she’s always been so strong. She killed the boy, rid herself of her weakness, just like I knew she would. I see it, the exact moment when the light leaves her eyes. All the emotions that make us humans so weak, extinguished in the blink of an eye. Those wide violet eyes of hers look up at me. I stroke a strand of her white blonde hair back behind her ear.
“So perfect. You make me so proud.” She blinks slowly. “You are like the daughter I never had.” To watch her fight is like poetry, to see her kill is art, a dancer spinning her craft on the great stage. She will be exquisite. The perfect death for any man who might find himself on the wrong end of her gun. “From now on you will be Una Ivanov, my daughter in name.” I lean close and press my lips to her forehead. She tenses but makes no other move. “And your name will be whispered in fear, little dove.”
Yes. Innocent and beautiful and deadly. She will be that which men both covet and fear equally. My Oleander flower. A Kiss of death.
The End
KILL ME - Kiss of Death book one. Available now.
Una
To many, I am little more than a myth. The Kiss of Death, a hired killer, revered by some of the greatest criminal organisations in the world. Trained by the bratva themselves, without conscience, without mercy, the perfect soldier. I’ll kill anyone… for a price. Death doesn’t discriminate, she sells to the highest bidder, but even I have a weakness.
Nero
I want one thing—power. But power is merely a game of strategy. The pieces are on the chess board. Death is my queen, and also my pawn. She’ll paint this city red in exchange for the one thing she wants. Now all I have to do is watch it all play out. She’s nothing more than a weapon, and yet, I find myself wanting to dance with death, to possess her. And I always get what I want.
A game of power. A risk that could cost her everything. An obsession that would see the world burn at their feet. A bloodied king. A broken queen.
Kill me or kiss me?
Dear Reader
Thank you for reading!
Writing a book is never easy, but without you it would be pointless. So thank you for one-clicking. Thank you for reading my work. I massively appreciate it.
If you would be amazingly kind and leave a review, I would be so grateful. Leg humps would be owed.
Acknowledgments
There are so many people to thank for helping me with Make Me, so here it goes.
Heather Roberts of Butterfly PR, my publicist and part time fairy godmother. Girl, you are the shit. Thank you for everything that you do.
Thank you to Kellie Montgomery for squeezing in a panic edit!
Big thanks to Cassy Roop for not only designing another kick ass cover, but for being an amazing friend.
Thanks to my lovely formatter, Leigh Stone, for making this book look so pretty and professional.
Stevie…what can I say? I love you, you whore.
Sarah-Jane, my PA. Love you hard.
Huge thanks to Kerry Fletcher, Marika Nespoli and Michaela Duarte for all your pimping and sharing. I love you girls!
There are so many blogs and individuals who have helped me along the way and you are all hugely appreciated, but I have to acknowledge one in particular.
Give Me Books and One-Click Addicts. I love you girls and I couldn’t do this without you. Mummy Kylie, organization queen and actual fucking goddess, thank you for your awesome PR and your ongoing
support. You’re a star, and no one else can do what you do.
There are so, so many people who have helped me, and you know who you are.
I hope I haven’t missed anyone. Just know that anyone who has ever written a review, posted a teaser, or read any of my books...Thank you. Your ongoing support means the world.
The Author
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Lauren Lovell is a ginger from England. She suffers from a total lack of brain to mouth filter and is the friend you have to explain before you introduce her to anyone, and apologise for afterwards.
She's a self-confessed shameless pervert, who may be suffering from slight peen envy.
Other books by LP Lovell
She Who Dares series:
Besieged #1
Conquered #2
Surrendered #3
Ruined #4
Wrong Series:
Wrong
Wrath
Standalone:
Absolution
High
Tiger Shark
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/lplovellauthor
Twitter: @Authorlplovell
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7850247.LP_Lovell
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/LP- Lovell/e/B00NDZ61P