Merciless Saints (St. Monarch's Academy 1)

My brother opens the passenger door, then explains, “I need my hands free, so I can shoot anyone who threatens Alexei.”

“Oh.” Nodding, I climb into the back.

Alexei starts the car, then adds, “You’ll learn everything when you start at the academy.”

I wish I was twenty-one already. I can’t wait to become as good or better than my brother.

Alexei drives us to a gentlemen’s club in Geneva. When we walk into the building, my eyes dart around, drinking in the luxurious interior. Dark wooden furniture is complemented with chrome furnishings. The smell of cigar smoke hangs thick in the air, sweet and robust.

Uncle Michail and Mr. Koslov took Demitri and Alexei to their first gentlemen’s club when they turned eighteen. It’s a longstanding family tradition.

Until yesterday, I’ve lived a secluded life at my family’s compound situated in Russia. I’ve learned everything there was to learn about all the fighting styles, and handling different weapons. I also had to become well acquainted with other countries' diverse cultures, especially America, Switzerland, England, and some parts of Africa. I had to learn to speak without a Russian accent as well. It kept me busy, but now I’m ready for more. I hunger for adventure and creating a name for myself as the best custodian.

My gaze goes to Carson. We’ve exchanged text messages, but living in different countries, we haven’t met in person until yesterday. Friends are hard to come by in our world, but like Demitri and Alexei got along right from the start, Carson and I immediately clicked.

Carson’s eyes meet mine, the corner of his mouth lifting. “Hopefully, that will be us in five years,” he mutters as he gestures at our brothers.

“It better be,” I chuckle right before we take a seat at a table.

Alexei places an order for a bottle of vodka with four shot glasses, then he grins at Carson. “Today, I’ll make a man of you.”

Carson lets out a disgruntled sound through his nose. “I’m already a man.”

A server places a bottle of Stoli down in the middle of the table. While Alexei pours us each a glass, he chuckles, “You’re not a man until you’ve gotten drunk and made a woman orgasm.” He places a drink in front of Carson. “Until then, you’re a kid.”

Demitri hands me a shot glass, then asks, “Are you ready to become a man?”

I let out a soft chuckle. “Stupid question.”

My first time having sex, and every time after, was with Irina, one of the maids working at the compound. She’s taught me everything I know about pleasing a woman.

“Na zdoróv'je,” we toast as we lift the drinks to our mouths. The vodka stings my throat as I swallow it down.

Alexei’s phone beeps, and after he checks the message, he mutters, “Everything is set for New York.”

“The Ruin?” I ask. It’s what the hub for illegal activity in Desolation, New York, is called. Once Carson and I are done with St. Monarch’s, it will probably be our first destination as well.

Alexei nods as he fills our glasses again. “We have a meeting there.”

“Your first contract?” Carson asks as he picks up his drink.

I down mine before settling my eyes on Alexei as he answers, “Yes.”

When he doesn’t say anything else, my gaze flicks to Demitri, who shakes his head at me so I won’t ask more questions regarding their work.

“Drink up,” Alexei grumbles.

After the third shot, I start to feel hot under the collar, and by the fifth, my mind starts to grow cloudy.

“You need to practice shooting every second you can,” Alexei says to Carson, who just nods in response.

“And you,” Demitri says as he locks eyes with me, “you better train every day. Don’t embarrass me when you start at St. Monarch’s.”

“Of course,” I mutter as I bring the tumbler to my lips again.

Alexei gestures around the table with his drink. “Don’t trust anyone but the men seated at this table.”

Both Carson and I nod.

Once we’ve finished the bottle of vodka, Demitri gets up, which has the rest of us rising to our feet. “Now for the test.”

“Test?” I ask, doing my best to not stagger like a drunken fool as we walk deeper into the club.

Demitri and Alexei don’t explain what the test entails, and it has Carson and I exchanging a worried look.

They better not expect us to shoot someone. I won’t be able to aim straight with all the liquor flooding my veins.

We’re led down a hallway, the carpet a deep burgundy beneath our feet. Alexei drags Carson into a room, and I follow Demitri into another room.

A woman stands up from where she was sitting on a bed. Her eyes glide hungrily over me, which makes one of my eyebrows rise.

“Is this the test?” I ask.

“This is Leoni. I picked her myself for you.” Demitri’s eyes lock with mine. “You have to make her come. Don’t leave this room until you’re successful,” Demitri orders, and then he walks out.