Rasputina and the Witch's Tsar

Chapter Forty-Five

They tore my jacket and hat from my body. I feared they would take more, but they just kicked my useless, bleeding corpse to the side.

No, not a corpse, you're not dead yet.

"Where are you taking that?" Dmitri asked one of the men, snapping like a dog.

"Why, to the woman's apartment, of course." Prince Yusupov replied, staring at the simple wool garment with disgust, his eyes flitting very briefly over Duke Dmitri's pinched features, marking them with interest. "It's so they believe that Miss Maria Rasputina stumbled home last night. Drunk as ever."

I kept silent as they kicked me out of the way. Everything ached, burned, tore, hurt. But I remained quiet. Better they think me dead.

They left the basement then, not locking the door behind them. Why would you lock the door on a dead person?

Useless, I struggled to stand. My limbs would not move. I crawled like a worm until I reached the opposite wall, directly below the crucifix. I forced myself up, picking up a heavy silver cup in my other, more mobile arm. Wine trickled down my arm, but I wiped it away.

Blood dampened towards my stomach. I was surprised just how much was there from the wound in me. Everything hurt. It was amazing just how much it could hurt.

And I waited...and waited...

And finally, slipped into something resembling sleep.

***

"Are you dead, witch?"

Prince Yusupov peeled open one of my eyes, staring into it. His own eyes were red-rimmed. A vein bulging at his neck. Teeth chattering from nerves.

I brought the silver cup up in my hand and smashed it over his skull. He fell to the ground with a cry, but I was already at my feet. I vaulted over his body, nearly spilling to the ground.

"No, no..." I moaned, pulling myself to my feet again. Yusupov was upon me, but I flipped over and hit him with the silver cup again. He backed away from me.

"Demon! Demon!" He screamed and screamed, his eyes round and terrified. Teeth gnashing like a man possessed. Like he had his own demon locked inside him. "You're supposed to be dead."

I bared my teeth at him, coming at him again with the silver chalice. He leapt away from me, sprinting up the basement steps.

I followed him out into the corridor. Screeching, he went back the way we had originally came, exiting through a curtained door.

I must fight. I thought. Fight or be killed.

I limped after him, refusing to die, refusing to succumb to these powerful men simply because they thought I should die for my crime of being a powerful woman. He ran, yet I moved to run faster. The cold blurred. The pain blurred. Nothing felt real as I followed this man into the snow, blood crusting and dripping onto me.

I raised the silver cup again...

Just to be shot at by another man in the shadows.

Too much blood. It's too much...

All air left me then. I fell to my knees, gasping for anything.

Mercy.

"What's wrong with you?" The man walked over to a cowering Prince Yusupov, pulling him up by his collar. "You fool. I told you to check that she was dead."

"She was! I swear it." He wailed. "The demon came back to life and attacked me."

They leaned over my body, throwing a jacket over my head. "Wrap her up." The man with the gun ordered. "We're dumping this demon's body for good."