Novgorod's Fox

Aleks flattened himself against the broken plaster wall. He swallowed his breath, rechecking his gun as he glanced at Fox’s shadow.

Aleks knew he’d been seen. His prey couldn’t have missed him. The crack of peeling paint under his feet betrayed his every movement.

He spilled out into the dim light and shot into the darkness as the grey shape disappeared up another corridor. Aleks darted after him, but the movement was already gone. The two men stood, silent and invisible in the deepening gloom.

Aleks strained to hear anything. A breath, the crack of a carelessly placed boot… any hint of his prey. If he could just take this victory, maybe Anatoli would end this fucking contract - fight his own damn battles.

A door swung open and Aleks fired, but his target was gone before the shot’s echo faded. He could see the door now, his eyes adjusting to the dark. The acrid smell of the smoking gun singed his nose as he advanced. He placed a bony white hand on the knob and threw it open, his gun raised.

Silence.

He put a foot forward.

Aleks screeched as Fox’s blade cut into the back of his thigh. He clutched the wound, warm blood trickling over his fingers. A sharp kick to his midsection sent him sprawling across the floor. Aleks turned over on his back, determined not to cry out or let Fox see his pain - his helplessness. The soft thud of Fox’s boot brushed his ear as it hit the carpet. The bastard was standing over him, grinning down at his prize.

Not this one, damn it. Aleks wouldn’t lose this one.

He raised his gun once more, ignoring the searing pain in his thigh. Fox effortlessly ducked his shot before kicking the gun out of his weakened hand.

“Yield?”

Aleks growled, his indignation met with the tickle of Fox’s sword on his throat.

“Novgorod, you hear me? Do you yield?”

Aleks couldn’t hide the fury in his eyes as he turned away. He’d been so close. He’d had the man this time! He screeched as Fox’s sword cut his cheek.

“Yield, Novgorod?”

“Yes!”

Fox smiled, grabbing his prey’s collar and drawing him up to full height.

Aleks felt the pain run away from his wounds as Fox pulled him close. The tender flesh of his thigh knitted itself back together. He closed his eyes, his enemy’s warm breath soothing the pain of his bloodied cheek until finally, Fox kissed him.

As defiance gave way to desire, Aleks’ cheek began to heal, just as his thigh had done. Anatoli’s magicks – his idea of amusement.

Fox forced open the buttons of Aleks’ shirt and lapped his throat.

Aleks choked back tears as he let the man’s cold hands ripple his flesh. Ecstasy, in the powerful arms of his beautiful enemy. This time, he’d conceded. There’d been too many concessions.

Damn Fox. Damn Anatoli. Damn this whole fucking game.