DPOV
'Don't worry about bitin' off more'n you can chew; your mouth is probably a whole lot bigger'n you think'
I've scanned the document countless times. I more or less knew every word off by heart now. It's mocking me. There had to be something I'm missing, something that hasn't clicked…
"You're going to go cross-eyed." Ben comments, not looking away from this laptop.
I sigh and straighten up. I'd been craning over the pages and my neck pops as I stretch. "There has to be something…"
"So you keep saying and we haven't found it."
He's not speaking out of exasperation, just pure fact. He wanted to know what happened to Janine Hathaway as much as I did. The most frustrating part, that couldn't be helped and we held no ill will with it, is that she held all the answers but she was refusing to speak. She was refusing to do a lot of things.
The only other person that could fill in some blank spots wouldn't be safe in a room with me.
"Scotland...left at eighteen...Europe…" Bank details, plane tickets, hostel records, and then it all just drops off. The bank account was closed before Rose was born and my suspicion is the Ozera's did that. Once they had a hold of her they would stamp out any record.
Ben had settled with the conclusion that she'd been a victim of trafficking. It was the most logical answer but something needled at me about it all. It wasn't that simple or maybe it was and it was my emotional ties to the situation clouding sense. I wanted better answers. I wanted to know why she'd dropped out of school, why she travelled, who Rose's father is and how she came to be at the Ozera property. How did this all even start with Natasha's father? He was a cold and cruel bastard but he didn't dabble in things he thought disrespectful or dirty money. He was proud, he was arrogant, but he wasn't in the underworld of crime... but then he'd also bought a property in the middle of the Arizona desert.
Scotland, Prague, Istanbul, and then gone. At the Ozera's, pregnant and not by any Ozera. It could have transpired whilst she was being moved or by someone visiting the property...
But it's a feeling Rose's father isn't some faceless, sadistic ghost. It was in the way Janine protected her so fiercely with every broken piece of her. My mother had been like that once, she had loved us because we were proof that he felt something for her, something she so desperately loved, no matter how destructive and twisted it was. I believed there had to be something good here and that Rose was a reminder to Janine of somewhere better, her old life before it was taken from her.
Rose thinks she hates her but a blood promise is rooted in love and utmost loyalty.
The only time Janine would speak now was to ask if Rose was alive. Not well, not happy, not healthy – alive. The people in charge of their care now had stopped waiting for her to ask and would tell her every morning, wanting to appease her in some way. A soul that is shattered by abuse cannot accept a lot of kindness. She barely eats, sleeps, or bathes and when they try to make her she lashes out. Since the withdrawals have appeased her outbursts have been less.
Every one of the dhampirs found at that property has no family. No one came looking for them or reported them missing. It's too coordinated. Too planned. Dhampirs are too entwined in society in some way and the only ones removed enough are The Keepers but only two of them were snatched from a Keepers community.
Some can't remember their full names and that's the ones that will speak.
"No individual has shown improvement or wish to be assisted in any way…'
The same line is in every report. All broken beyond reach.
I rub my eyes. Natasha might know something she doesn't realize. Have some of her father's old trading ledgers or files because really, what did I know about what old rich men thought was beneath them. The evidence kept mounting that if you had enough money and are of the right breeding you could do whatever the fuck you wanted.
Zmey's face flashes in my mind. kneeling on the glass-crusted ground holding Rose's necklace and snarling at me. I'd been disorientated, my heart pounding painfully, sounds magnifying and fading in my ears and the fire had been bending and swooping in a way I knew wasn't real. Through all that I heard what he said to me.
'Where did you get this?'
We'd scoured the internet for any links to it but we couldn't find anything of significance, couldn't find anything close to the one Rose had been given. We didn't find anything that linked it to any kind of place or practice that could lead us to more about Janine's movement. Ben is determined it has been originally crafted, one of a kind, and we'd never noticed any kind of stamp or mark of the craftsman.
I wouldn't ask Rose anything about it. I still saw her reach for it only to find her neck bare.
"Have you and Tasha spoke about the incident yet?"
I sigh and take up my pen, something to do with my hands. "Stop calling it that."
"Well have you?"
I fix him a look, one of amusement and exasperation."Sletni."
Gossip.
He sniggers. I can't blame him for the interest. Being in my business has to be better than dealing with his own.
"She had too much to drink. It's fine."
There's a pause and in peripheral I see him turn toward me. Internally I sigh.
"This probably goes without saying but if you go there, please be discreet as possible. It's hard for Rose to be around her."
My natural reaction is to go still, an ingrained instinct from my childhood, but I override it and keep the pen twirling between my fingers and my fathers' poker face on. I meet Ben's eyes and as always they're clear because that's the thing about him, he is always straightforward. No ulterior motives. An admirable feat in this line of work that I used to think was a flaw. I used to think he was made of lesser material when this role demanded so much of you be made of steel and stone. Now I think differently. Now that I'm not entombed in apathy. Ben could carry out the job, he'd follow through on a commitment but he is the one who'd struggle with the aftermath. Those jobs were better suited to Spiridon and me who could close ourselves off...I'm no longer sure that is something to be proud of.
But I am what they made me.
"Rose?"
Her name was so at home on my tongue, belonged there, that it's a small surprise to me that no one has noticed at all how it falls from my lips.
Ben sighs like I'm being purposefully dense. He's not wrong. "She hates Tasha for her reasons that no one has the right to argue with and as removed as you are from all sensibility, it hurts her to see her around. The other night wasn't on you, I know. You didn't invite her over but I think Tasha should stay clear of the house for now."
I'm removed from sensibility? Where had he come up with that one?
I stare back at him but I know he's not going to yield to that old manipulation. The more silence you give people after they've said something sensitive the more they tend to ramble on and reveal more.
I make a show of considering this. "I know that."
"I know it makes it harder for you two to work out whatever it is going on but this needs to be Roses' space."
"Ben, there is nothing to work out. Nothing romantic or casual is starting up with me and Tasha."
I'm getting sick of this topic.
Suspicion crosses his features. "Really?"
"Really." I lean back in my chair and weigh up confiding in him, just a little, there's too much in my head and that's how mistakes are made. "On Halloween she made her feelings known but it's not there for me and with everything else, I don't want another…"
"Job?" He supplies.
I hate that it resonates true because that's exactly what it would feel like. I give a curt nod.
"Halloween also showed me how difficult it is for Rose to be around them. It was naive of me to expect anything else." I add.
"I did warn you." He sighs.
He had and Victor had insisted it would be fine. He said the party would be good ground to come to some sort of mutual civility. I'd been stupid enough to think Christian and Tasha weren't the problems. They weren't the seed of Rose's traumas but seeds grow roots.
"And yet we are about to be so tactless again."
He says 'we' but he means Victor.
He'd extended his invitation to Natasha and Christian, informing us afterward so there would be no hope of talking him into reconsidering. Lucas was not going to sit on the council much longer. He was serving his purpose albeit dragging his heels but when he left the chair the person likely to take it is his sister and Victor likes his allies close.
There's no way to bend the fact to make it easier on Rose. It didn't matter Natasha wasn't invited to purely share in the Thanksgiving spirit because she'd still be in her home reminding her of everything she endured and lost. Then to make it worse Christian and Lissa had made their relationship official.
I couldn't make any of it easier for her and what Ben is getting at, what is so unforgivably tactless, is that Victor has put Rose in charge of the function. A role essential to making sure everyone is fed and watered. A role Victor thought was fitting to how well she manages his house but the festering wound under that role is that she was once again attending to Ozera's.
I've been clenching my jaw so much the past two days I've probably done damage.
"I know." I say quietly.
"He knew it too, you know." Ben says, unflinchingly candid and I can't help but let my gaze flick across the basement to ensure we're alone. "That's why he didn't tell us before because we would have put it to him and he wouldn't have been able to talk his way around it. It's selfish, self-interested, and cruel."
Yes.
"Remember who we work for." A warning, for his own sake.
"Oh, I do." His hazel eyes have hardened over, some dark resolve there. Something he needs to keep to himself. Not because he doesn't have my confidence but because once things are said you can't take them back. Words are the weapons of politicians.
"I don't think he's telling us the truth about these meetings." He says.
"Ben." My tone is razor-sharp.
"Dimitri, don't stick your head in the sand." What a fucking luxury that would be. "Conscription? You think Balan or Kirova or the other two, who are scared shitless, came up with that?"
He speaks in a low voice that's barely controlled, anger cracking under it. The thing I'd learned about politicians is that you need to play the long game and he needed to understand that.
I lean forward, never breaking eye contact, and say deathly quiet. "I don't but you need to shut up."
I point one finger to the ceiling where footsteps can be heard moving around the house just above our heads. You give life to words and they can take on a whole new meaning and life of their own. I also didn't underestimate Spiridon to sleep overnight in one of the boots of the cars in hopes of eavesdropping on something.
Ben looks to be biting his tongue but he lets it go.
I clear my throat. "I will ask Tasha and Christian to be as sensitive as possible."
He snorts and I want to tell him how I know what little that means, that it's been turning over in my head every other second of the day and causing my teeth to ache.
I turn back to the papers and the option I'd been trying to avoid burns brighter, demanding attention. I could go speak to Janine myself.
Ben returns to his task of scanning for any whisper or movement from 'The Circle' and after another hour we both give up. No answers for either of us. We couldn't even track them by facial recognition as they'd gotten ahead of that with the cameras in the street and mall. That meant money, a lot of money.
There have been a few Strigoi attacks in Romania but nothing unusual. No mass killings since the school but I have a feeling we were on borrowed time.
/
Upstairs Rose is in the kitchen with platters in front of her. All menu samples for her to choose the final options to be served. Spiridon is hovering like a vulture in the effort to 'help'.
"Stop that." She growls, smacking his fingers with her fork.
"You just said we're not going with this stuffing so why the hell can't I eat it?"
"Because I said so."
"Because I said so." He mocks in a high-pitched voice and she giggles.
She looks up as Ben asks if he's in danger of being stabbed if he helps too. I lean against the entry and watch them fall into easy banter. Rose doesn't allow herself to look at me and the others don't pay me any attention which means I have full advantage to look at her. She has her hair tied in a knot at her neck and I could imagine tugging the band out and letting the dark waves fall down her back. Winding it around my hand before drawing her head back and being captivated by those warm doe eyes.
When it's just us everything ceases being hard. My mind stops falling from one thing to the next, I relax, I feel calm, I feel at peace. There have been a few exceptions – when she confided in me about her scars, when I found her curled around her pillow shaking with grief and when she was ill. She'd been so ill. I don't give in to panic, don't let myself free fall into wild, erratic chaos spiked with terror, but when she'd fallen down those stairs I'd been close.
Then some moments are indescribable, where I feel there's a shift within myself, something wakening up or being given life
"Don't call me that."
I snap back into the room and find Rose staring at Ben, with such coldness it's shocking. What had I just missed?
"Um, okay. Sorry." Ben says cautiously.
Rose begins rustling through foil containers, the light atmosphere now tense and awkward. You'd think by Spiridons expression there's been a fascinating firework display. Ben excuses himself and I feel a pang of sympathy for him.
"So what's wrong with using your full name?" Spiridon asks, brushing aside the rigid set of her shoulders.
She glares at him with more venom than ever. "My name is Rose."
Spiridon looks amused. "Yes. Rosemarie Hathaway."
She slams down a tub of cranberry sauce, red spattering the counter. Spiridon opens that hole in his face again.
"Enough." It comes low and between my teeth.
He glances at me. "Oh, I forgot you were here. Excellent impersonation of paint drying by the way."
His eyes, which have always reminded me of roadside slush or clouds before a storm, turn back on Rose. My muscles lock.
"What's the issue?" He presses.
She refuses to look at him, jaw locked and colour flushing her cheeks.
"Spiridon, enough."
I hadn't realised I'd stepped forward until I'm close enough to touch the island. He stares at Rose for a few seconds longer and then shrugs. He strides out and takes the stairs. I retrieve some paper towels and mop up the mess, the silence stretching on.
I wouldn't push.
She takes a deep breath and picks up her pen to mark something off in her notes. She's been practising her writing at any opportunity the past few days and I feel an immense amount of pride in her. When Spiridon had spied her notes his face had immediately scrunched up and I'd quickly caught his eye, poker face off. He hadn't said anything at the time but that doesn't mean he hasn't filed it away for later.
Rose is frowning at her page, pen hovering.
"What word?" I ask quietly.
She sighs, "Condiments."
I spell it for her and she carves it into the paper, letters small and tight. She catches me looking and immediately tries to move away.
I wouldn't let her be embarrassed. "You had to hide it before, right? Stolen scraps here and there for you to practice on."
She looks at me in surprise. I'd spent a good deal of time thinking about her life, trying to fill in the blanks, painting the 'normal'. Finally, she nods, dragging her bottom lip between her teeth.
"Usually the back of labels." She murmurs. "Sometimes paper but it would be harder to get rid of."
That thing in me, that dark coiling animal, raises its head and bares its teeth. I kept slipping into wanting to change the unchangeable, a child's dream, a foolish self-infliction, and a ridiculous indulgence that I had no right to sink into. If I could do anything for her now it was to make sure she's happy, healthy, and safe.
I listen to the house, the roll of chair wheels in Victor's office, footsteps creaking on floorboards but there were no sounds close to us. I kiss her forehead and she leans into me.
"It's what she called me." She explains quietly. "I shouldn't have snapped at Ben."
I curl one around her shoulders, listening to the house, connecting the pieces of what she means. "Rosemarie?"
She tenses a fraction under my hand. "Yes. The – oh god this sounds so stupid. The only thing I had of my own was my name and I preferred Rose. Rosemarie is hers and sort of like, only hers."
The wild girl with fierce eyes but who trembled and flinched when I lifted a hand toward her, watches me and weighs me up. I'd asked for her name, concerned she'd hit her head and if I could use her name to anchor her that would be a start.
"Rose." She said in an exhale, like a held breath she'd carried for years.
"It's not stupid."
"I think your the only person who doesn't think I am."
The animal growls.
I tilt her chin up.
"Yeah, yeah I know. I'm not stupid." She says shyly.
"Are you sure you understand that?"
"Isn't it a bit dangerous for stupid people to assume they're not?"
"Rose."
The idea of tests and tutoring is playing on her mind. It really didn't measure intelligence in most people but I knew it mattered to her and I also knew she'd think I was trying to coddle her. I kiss her head again, berries and vanilla, and step away. Immediately I miss her touch.
"I was failing in most of my classes until Galina stepped in and if you haven't noticed, I'm not stupid."
The surprise is quickly masked by that look she gets when she's about to be cheeky. The slight tilt of her lips, the suspended moments before she speaks. "Well, I didn't know how to break it to you."
I roll my eyes and she giggles.
"Could you try these two kinds of potatoes and tell me which? I can't decide and Spiridon was just stuffing his face and making nonsense comments about undertones and palettes."
I lift one of the foil cartons. "This is not potatoes."
"It is."
"It looks like…baby food."
"It's pureed or something."
I don't have to try it to know I won't like it. I take a mouthful of the dish that looks solid. Lightly buttered with peppercorns and a little bit of garlic
"That."
"I thought so."
"You look tired." Her brown eyes search my face. It didn't matter if I was still, or wearing my fathers expression, I felt exposed with her. I hadn't been sleeping well, just like before I'd been injured, but I didn't want her to worry.
"I am but I'm fine."
She frowns so I steer the subject. "How many potato dishes are there?"
"Four. Garlic and herb roasted, maple glazed sweet potato, dauphinoise potatoes and that mashed one. You look concerned."
I shake my head. "I suppose there's a lot of people coming."
"I'll make sure your all saved a plate."
"Don't worry about us."
"Are you kidding? Spiridon would never forgive me and Ben...I should go apologise to Ben."
I nod. "He'll understand."
She looks troubled so I urge her to go find him and as she passes I can't help to lightly swat her ass. She gives a surprised squeak, whirling on me, and I keep my face neutral. Those big expressive eyes narrow.
"That's rude yano."
I smile, slow and deliberate. "That was polite compared to my thoughts."
That damn blush blossoms. "Oh?"
I lean my elbows on the island and let my gaze travel the length of her, unhurried, appreciating the view. She's been wearing jeans more often, which were better against the cold if I'm thinking of the practicality of them which I did 20% of the time but the other 80%? I liked how the denim accentuated her curves, her long legs. I wanted to drag her to me with both hands gripping that ass. Lift her onto the counter so I didn't have to bend down. Peel them off and drag her underwear to the side again.
"Dimitri." She murmurs, the blush searing her cheeks.
"Sorry."
"Don't be sorry."
I am because right now there's not a thing I can do about how she looks or how I'm reacting to her. And then like a rubber band snapping back I remember how I'd found her curled around that pillow like it was the only thing she had to give her solace.
I straighten up and I hate that her eyes brighten at the movement.
I try and make my voice soft. "Go see Ben."
Disappointment shades her face but she quickly hides it. I hate that too.
I take myself for a walk in the bitter air, it's almost familiar, almost like home, almost. At the halfway point I sit down on the rocky outcropping above the water and let myself just be. I draw the cold air into my lungs and let it centre me. I lift the snow in my hands, watch it slowly begin to melt between my fingers. Almost like home. I throw it at the lake's glassy surface.
My phone vibrates. I pull it out and then go utterly still.
I lift it to my ear. "Hello?"
There's a long pause, "Dimika."
Cold air, let it centre me.
"Karolina I...How are you?"
Another long pause and I clutch at the snow.
"I can't do it. I can't take this anymore." She says flatly. Her voice is devoid of that warmth that was so like a January fire, the voice that used to tell me bedtime stories.
I stare at the water and can make my lips move. "Tell me."
She takes a deep breath and attempts to tell me about the last few months. "She is not getting better. She has become this heartless, narcissistic, venom-spewing shell of a person and I can't do it anymore. I won't. I'm pregnant and my son has to listen to her whispering in his ear every day about how we are terrible people and that you are the monster under his bed. That it will be you that comes and takes him away in the middle of the night because that's what happened to her. Dimika, she is...she is not who she was. It's like she died."
I swallow. "I see."
"No, no you don't." She says, cutting into me. "You don't see, you don't listen to it, you don't have to worry every minute of the day. You don't get isolated with her. Sonja stays at out to all hours because she does not want to be here. Viktoria is so angry that it's changing her heart. You do not see."
The cold creeps into my blood. "I thought, I truly thought it would help. That it would get better."
"Well it hasn't and I have had enough. I'm going back to Baia. I have already spoken to Sonja and Viktoria. Viktoria is going back to school and Sonja will find other work. We are going home."
I work around the feeling in my throat. "Grandmother?"
"Has already mourned and made peace with it." I nearly repeat 'I see' again but bite my tongue. She fills in the silence, months' worth of frustration and heartache dripping from her words. "We are going home and you tell whoever it is that you work for to give you your salary. There are other communities or if you wish let those carers come and be with her all day, give them all your money because it will take every penny to make them stay. Let her go back to him if she wishes. I am done. We are done."
The guilt hits me like a blow to the gut and I bend over, bracing my elbow on my knees. I can't bring myself to ask if they're also done with me. I don't know what to say, if I have the right after what I did as 'the best thing' for them.
"Should I come home?"
The silence stretches on and where I am, how many miles away from that town, becomes so clear cut and gaping.
"No." She says it simply and something in me cracks.
I draw in the cold air. Let it out. Take the seconds I need.
"Do you need anything from me? Do you need help getting thing moved?"
"No."
The silence presses down and claws at my skin. My older sister feels like a stranger and I don't know how to get back to her.
I push myself up. "I'm sorry it didn't work. I'm sorry. For all of it."
She doesn't say anything. The claws of the quiet penetrate, ripping into tendons and muscles, pulling me apart.
"What will you do with her?" She says and internally I flinch. 'Her' not 'Mama'.
"I...I suppose I should ask her what she wants."
"She wants to go back to him." Her tone is a razor. She exhales harshly and ploughs on, "Dimika let her. Let her do what she wants. It is her life. She knows she is about to lose us and she does not care. No, she has lost us. The things she's said and done are not forgivable. They deserve each other."
I stare out at the water feeling so removed from everything. I can't wrap my head around this. I couldn't believe this isn't my sister on the end of the phone with anger that has long gone cold. I could believe I fell off the ledge of that cliff and woke up somewhere parallel, somewhere not quite right, somewhere where everything is 'almost'.
Each word is difficult. "Let me think about it and if you change your mind about needing help, needing me to come home, tell me."
More silence.
"I am glad you are alright Dimika. I'm not sorry for not calling sooner. I might not forgive you for this either but I need to go home, I need my babies safe and their father close. I do not want either of them in our lives."
The November wind, pine and frost, whips around me. "I understand."
"Good."
"I will talk to my boss and we will sort out the house."
"Good."
I swallow. "I am sorry."
Silence. "Goodbye Dimika, be safe."
The phone clicks and I stay rooted there, letting my blood run colder and letting it turn me numb.
To be made of stone and steel...perhaps I should of stayed that way. After a while, when my hands start to turn red, I get up.
Ben and Rose are in the living room and he's showing her more blocks, in a way that has her laughing and barely holding her form. I think he calls something to me but there's a ringing in my ears. I snap out of it as my knuckles rap Victors' door and I step in. Spiridon lounges in his usual spot, grinning, most likely talking away for the sake of it and amusing only himself. The grin slips off his face and he takes in mine. "What's happened?"
Victor looks up from his paper.
"Could I have a few minutes?" I ask him.
He nods, setting his documents aside and Spiridon has the sense to stand and slip out.
"Our arrangement needs to change." I don't recognise my voice, more devoid and bleak than I've ever heard it.
He raises his eyebrows. "Oh?"
I nod stiffly. "My family wish to move back to Baia, without my mother."
Now his brows crease. "I see, so, the arrangement we have needs altered to support them in Baia? Won't Randall easily find them there? And what of your mother?"
I look around his office. "I don't know about my mother yet but my sisters do not want to be supported by me any longer. They want to be separated from both parents, Randall has only ever cared about … being with my mother. He will leave them alone."
Victor is still wearing a perplexed face. "But why?"
"I was mistaken in moving them in the first place."
He sighs and it almost has a sympathetic feel to it. "I had thought, hoped, that you were going to tell me that you'd taken Natasha's proposal."
The clock ticks and the wind rips through the tree's outside as I stare at him.
"How do you know about that?" I ask, a voice creeping across rotted floorboards.
Victor looks slightly sheepish, a boy whose prank hasn't been funny at all. "Well, I suggested it. I thought, there being something of substance there anyway, that it would bring you closer. Strengthen your bond."
There's a roaring in my ears again but I can still hear the ticking, the wind, and I make myself unclench my hands. "You thought wrong."
He leans back and purses his lips. "Your angry with me."
Understatement. Very big understatement. Dangerous almost.
I let my jaw work before I open my mouth. "Do not interfere in my personal relationships again."
"Dimitri." He's reproachful, looking at me as if I'm being unreasonable.
I step forward, Ben's words flipping through my head from earlier. "Do not think that I am a puppet on your string. I work for you. You do not control me."
"You seem to be barely controlling yourself." He says quietly. I make myself still, the beast snapping and snarling wanting to be unleashed. "If Natasha was an overstep I apologise. I only had good intentions."
"I want my full salary. I understand this month is too late but from December onwards. Dismiss the help that has been assigned to Karolina. I'll figure out what to do with my mother."
Silence as we regard each other and he finally says. "As you wish."
I turn on my heel and leave. I need out of this house. I need to think. I take the stairs three at a time. Spiridon is leaning against the wall in the foyer, obviously waiting. He's smirking at Ben and Rose who are still messing around. He looks up as I hit the middle stair.
"Who died?"
I reach the floor, striding toward the front door with car keys already out of my pocket.
"Where are you going?" Ben calls.
"Belikov, what the fuck?"
Spiridon's hand clamps around my arm to swing me around and the beast snaps back. I hear Rose's cry of shock, Ben swearing, but all I can focus on are my fingers around Spiridon's throat as I pin him to the wall.
They bite in. His pulse beats in fast punches under his skin as if trying to force me off. Both of his hands are locked on my arm as I glare into that grey sleet, daring it to become a storm.
"Let go." He orders in a cool voice. Not a challenge, not what the beast expected.
I work to make my mind connect to muscle, to my body, and I release my grip.
Ben says my name again but I'm already punching in the code and then I'm in the drive, out into the cold that almost feels like home. I pull myself up into the SUV and slam the door. I inhale the smell of chilled leather and clench the wheel. The door opens and pine frost blasts in, covering my curse.
"Drive." Spiridon says, slamming the door.
My knuckles bleach white. "Get out."
"There was a nomad spotted at the school boundary and I think you need to redirect that pent-up aggression of yours."
Give me strength.
"Unless you want to drink instead? We maybe we could persuade someone to fall into bed with you. If they overlook a lot of things."
I throw the car into reverse and ignore the figure at the window in my peripheral.
"So what is it? Fighting or fu-"
"Shut the fuck up." I snarl.
He snorts. "Fighting it is. Gear in the back?"
I mange to nod, feeling like I might rip the steering wheel from the dash as we eat up the road. He dials in the coordinates from his phone of the last sighting and I park about two miles out. We equip ourselves in silence from the trove I have concealed in the boot.
Anger coats my insides, thrumming through me begging for release, and I hope he keeps his mouth shut.
We move as shadows through the forest. The wind is a problem, switching direction and throwing our scent out ahead and behind us. I hope it confuses them. The moon filters through the leaves lighting up patches of snow and making it glow. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up. A branch snaps to our far right.
"Above." Spiridon bets, his breath frosting in the air.
We keep moving forward, appearing oblivious to the predators' noise mere feet away. There's a scrape against wood, a creak of a branch and we stop.
"So what is up your ass?" Spiridon asks conversationally before there's an ungodly screech from above.
The air whistles as a body launch itself through it and we dive out of the way. The Strigoi hits the earth with such impact it would shatter their kneecaps if they weren't Made. Male with the appearance of being no older than fourteen and maybe it still is, it's hunting technique is careless.
It's over quickly.
The anger has barely left my bones.
"You dropped your left side twice." Spiridon remarks, searching through the body's pockets.
I watch the blood, almost black, drip from my stakes tip. "My hip's still stiff."
I find a patch of snow to clean it in.
"Physio?"
"Keith doesn't think so."
He stands having found nothing in the pockets. No way to identify the soul who went missing and let his family know. If he had a family. If anyone cared about him at all.
"I'll spar with you tomorrow otherwise you're going to get slow."
True.
I feel him looking at me. "I thought this would be a bit more...challenging."
I exhale.
"Drink?"
I face him, patience depleted. "What are you doing?"
"I'm bored. You grabbing me by the throat is the most exciting thing that's happened in weeks. Rose doesn't bite as much any more." I stare at him and he stares back. "What? Were you expecting something poetic?"
"No. Not from Dashkov's dog."
A glint in grey. "Are you coming out to play, Belikov?"
Dead leaves slither over the frosted forest floor, getting caught against the body.
He clicks his tongue. "No, of course not."
I brush past him. I gather what there is to help kindle the flames and place it on the body. Spiridon steps up beside me and draws out his silver flask, pouring some of the contents out. I light a match and let it fall.
Strigoi's bodies burn differently. The flames snake around it, trying to encase it, trying to dominate it and not catching and igniting in a steady build upward. It's as if the fire wars with the tainted body, knowing it's not of the natural order of the world.
We stand back and watch the battle until finally, the fire wins but at the cost of withering away into ash.
"I love bonfires."
I turn back the way we came. Halfway back he breaks the silence again.
"So are you going to spit it out? What riled you up?"
Silence.
"Oh so, are you just going to explode when Ben asks you? Or pin Rose to the wall when -"
I round on him. "Stop."
He cocks his head. "What did Victor do?"
He isn't going to stop asking until he's giving something to chew. And if I don't tell him something I leave it open to awkward posed questions at breakfast or in a meeting in which Victor will just relay the details. Something about that irritates me, imagining him delivering it calmly, implying my overreaction and that's before he knows I grabbed his No.1 by the throat.
Better to tell him alone in the Montana wilderness where he can mock me to his heart's content and if I snap again there are only the trees to bear witness. I resume walking and he follows silently. There was a time having my back to Spiridon would go against every survival instinct.
"He's been orchestrating my love life. Or trying to."
"Well, I take full satisfaction in saying, I told you so." My teeth grind together. He had told me on the deck when Sonya and Ben were fighting in the drive below. It feels like a lifetime ago.
"And my sisters are going back to Baia. They're leaving without my mother."
I hear his boot grate against the snow, a tell of his surprise. "So what's happening with her then? Who's going to watch her?"
"I don't know. Karolina told me she still wants to go back to Randall."
"Then it's not your problem." The car comes into view, swathed in shadow. "You tried to help, it didn't work. It's done."
I open the boot so we can take off the heavy belts and stow away our weapons, especially the guns. Tonight hadn't required much force at all.
"What? Do you think I'm wrong? There was a shit situation, you pulled them out of it, it didn't work and she doesn't want any different, so let her go and do what she wants."
"She's ill." I don't know if I'm telling him or myself.
"Perhaps but do you want to be the parent to your parent? And what makes you think you can change her?"
"She's not well." I repeat, the argument feeble even to my own ears. Karolina's voice echoes in my head.
He slams the boot and rounds on me. "Dimitri, when the fuck has your mother EVER chosen her kids? When?"
I balk at the question and my mind scrambles. "You don't understand. You couldn't."
"Why? Because my whole families dead? Well I think it's pretty simple. Parents love and protect their kids. One of yours is a callous bastard and the other did nothing to take you away from him. Not because she was too scared but because she loved him more than she loved you all." His words pelt at me and ordinarily, any other time, I would have already snapped. We'd already be deep into it with no one to pull us apart but there's no mockery in his face. The silence stretches and then he shrugs, "Be done or let it drag you down. I don't give a fuck."
The tether that has been holding me snaps. I shake my head as he opens the passenger door and gets in.
'Dimika, she is...she is not who she was. It's like she died.'
Mama had been loving and kind, once. She had shielded us the best she could, she had tried to make things easier.
But Spiridon's right – not once had she tried to take us away or run. She loved him and I had believed it was because his claws were in deep with pretty promises and sweet words after beating the shit out of us. I had thought time away from him, our home town and the addiction to being bitten would be a cure or at least an eye-opener. I thought not being in the town where everyone knew our business or in our childhood home full of his touches would be enough.
I'm a fool. A ridiculous, arrogant fool.
I stride to the drivers side and slide in. Spiridon taps away on his phone as I pull us around and back the way we came.
Janine Hathaway endured rape, starvation, brutality, emotional and mental abuse all so Rose could have medicine. Could have scraps of the bare minimum. She did it all for her. It isn't right to compare to the two, not at all and yet -
My mother let us have scraps of a normal childhood home so she could have as much of him as possible.
The anger melds into my bones and cools, reinforcing the steel.
Rose, her tear-stained face as she held my fingers and told me how she'd now knew the difference between affection and abuse, burns in my eyes. It had at least twice a day since she told me and it caused a clamouring of wrath and sorrow that I couldn't appease.
She deserved everything without permission to take it.
So did Janine.
"Well? Are you gonna let it go?" Spiridon asks sounding bored.
My sisters deserved more.
If I didn't let this go, if I went to Topola to make another arrangement for my mother, do I then become her incarcerator? Am I already? Have I essentially became him only worse? Am I in the same pool as Lucas Ozera who kept people prisoner and denied them the rights to their own lives?
"Yes."
I feel him look at me and I keep my eyes trained ahead.
"Good. Replacing you would be a pain in my ass."
"Glad to put your mind at ease."
The time has crept to the late hours of the morning by the time we turn into the drive. We'd been silent the rest of the journey and without breaking it, he takes the stairs and I hesitate in the foyer. Rose would expect me to come to her but I couldn't, not right now. The idea of lying in my own bed with my head turning over isn't appealing either.
I leave the lights off and place my keys on the island. In the back of the freezer, hidden under a bag of ice, is Spiridon's high-shelf Vodka. I pour three fingers into a glass and take a seat, letting my mind go to the utter chaos of everything.
Tasha, my mother, my sister, my job, the man I worked for and his schemes, Janine Hathaway, the age vote, the kids at the school and Rose.
Rose makes the rest of it fall to the wayside. Taking precedence. If I used my head, if I listened to only logic and reason I would know this isn't right, wouldn't I? Wouldn't I know I was taking advantage of someone in a vulnerable position and they deserved protection not perversion? Wouldn't I know to tell Victor to send me somewhere else, transfer me to the school? Wouldn't I know to try my damnedest with Tasha and be happy with the benefits?
But my head isn't leading.
The whispers of these things were in the back though.
I take a long drink and let the taste of home burn down my throat.
I prefer whiskey.
I hear her door open, the brush of her feet on the carpet, the soft pad down the steps and I pour another drink. She pauses in the entry. I can feel those eyes, those beautiful expressive eyes, examining me and I hate that there's a reason that she might be wary of me.
"Dimitri." She says softly and the whirlwind in my head relents.
I wanted her close. I want to reach out and brush her knuckles with my lips. I want to fold her in and feel her relax into my chest, her soft exhale against my neck like that's the place she's waited to be. I wanted all that but right now I don't deserve it.
Maybe I never did.
"It's late." I murmur. "You should sleep."
She ignores that and pads closer. I take another drink. She passes behind me, my eyes closing when her fingers glide over my shoulder blades before she pulls herself onto the seat next to me.
"Are you okay?" I am a lot of thing but okay is not one of them. "Please, talk to me."
I regard the clear pool in my glass. "No. I'm not okay."
"What happened?"
The glass revolves in my hand and I wonder if throwing it would help. Did it help him at all? He threw and broke enough things but then again, he kept doing it and it didn't seem to appease him. Actually, it spurred him on until something worse happened, usually to someone.
Her slim fingers close over the rim and she pries it from my hand to set it by the frosted bottle. "Tell me."
I don't know where to start. The most important issue might be the best place. I make myself lift my head and look at her. I expected her to look anxious or guarded but she's neither. She appears calm with only a hint of worry in her eyes.
"I'm sorry if I frightened you." I tell her, sincerity making my voice unlike itself.
I often sounded removed or detached, at best monotone. I didn't do it intentionally but it was ingrained into me now to be logical and methodical in all aspects. Living in this house, doing this job and being away from my sisters, my nephew, even my mother meant having no cause to let emotion get involved, to feel anything.
Until her.
"I wasn't afraid of you." She says, fingers grazing against mine until I turn my hand over and she takes it. "I was afraid…for you."
I'm not familiar with this, with any of this. How it makes my tongue feel like lead and things try to retreat inside of me so I can fall back into that comfortably closed place.
Then she lifts our hands and kisses my knuckles.
I hear my breath leave me like I've been holding it for hours and she lifts those eyes to mine and I know I'll never be closed to her again. How could I be? This beautiful, strong, kind creature who's endured more than is durable and is honest with me, even when it's hard.
"I think I lost my family." I tell her and feel the weight of it rip me open.
"How?" She slides closer to me, perched on the edge of her seat.
I watch our clutched hands and I wonder if she'll snatch hers away or gently drag it back when I tell her.
"You think too much of me." I warn her and her brows crease. I take a deep breath. "I told you that Victor helped hide my family but I didn't tell you that they never wanted to go. Or rather I didn't give them the option. I told you they were upset with me but I didn't tell you how they're justified in it. I made my terms with Victor and by the next night, a team was moving their things, packing them up, and ushering them out. My mother went screaming like a feral cat, Paul crying, Sonja livid and Viktoria frantically asking everyone to wait, she had friends to say bye to, a boy she liked but none of it mattered because they were going. Whoever it was Victor hired wouldn't take no for an answer." I tell her everything I remember from those first few calls with Karolina who has been angry, then desperate and then begged me to undo it. But I promised it was for a year, I promised it would make Mama better and he would never threaten them again. I promised a lot of things. "I forced them away from everything, to a new town with strangers checking in to help manage my mothers' moods and I expected them to be grateful for it. I expected it all to work out and for them to be happy and I actually think I made them more miserable than they've ever been. Until tonight when Karolina rang me to tell me she'd had enough and she was going home. She told me not to come back and she told me she might not forgive me."
Her grip tightens. "They will forgive you. Maybe not soon, maybe not for a while but they will."
I lift the glass with my free hand and throw it back. "Why should they? Why not be rid of the men trying to control their lives."
"Because you did it out of love. You were trying to make things better not harder. The intention matters!"
I pour another, two fingers this time. "Have you ever heard the expression, 'the road to hell is paved with good intentions'?"
"No."
We're quiet while she mulls that over. My head's getting lighter, clearing a bit. She hasn't let go of my hand.
"Are you in hell?" She asks quietly.
"No." I relent. "You wouldn't be here if I were."
She curls both her hands around mine. "I can't...understand why they would never forgive you. Be angry with you yes, for a long time maybe, but once they get back to everything they missed won't it get better? Won't they miss you too?"
"I think it's hard to miss anyone that caused so much hurt."
"But-"
"Rose, I have done a terrible thing and what's worse is I thought I was right. And you need to understand that too, more than anyone."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
I take a drink and when I drop the glass back to the counter her hands leave mine, making my heart drop until she takes the glass.
"You might not like that."
She takes a small sip and grimaces but doesn't choke. "Why don't you like anything sweet?"
"I like you, don't I?"
She rolls her eyes but her cheeks tint pink. I needed to stay on topic. She takes a deep breath and straightens her spines, lifting that stubborn chin.
"Why do I need to understand, more than anyone, that you've done something terrible but believed you were right?" She asks, voice dripping with sarcasm.
"Because maybe the considerations would be right. Maybe I should be moved. Maybe they'd be right in thinking this is wrong and I've…"
"You've what?" She challenges in a low simmering voice.
I didn't believe in what I was about to say to her but after tonight and what I've put my family through my resolve was shaken. It would be unwise to not assess from all positions. You should always look at something from every angle and calculate.
I meet her eyes. "Taken advantage."
It's enchanting to watch those sweet eyes suddenly blaze. Yes, there is something wrong with me. Looking like she's about to deliver hell's fury should not appeal to me. I'm not particularly pleased it's directed at me but I deserve it. I wish I didn't have to say it. Not when she's been so vehement in telling me about what it meant to have her choices but I had to say it because it would be thought and it would be said to us eventually. Fail to prepare, prepare to fail.
I should stop drinking.
"Tell me how you took advantage." She demands.
"I – what?"
"Tell me how. How did you take advantage of me?"
"Rose, can't you see how this will look? I'm telling you people will think this was a perversion and, fuck, maybe it is."
She slaps me.
I blink. I hadn't expected it, didn't even register her hand moving.
"You do not get to tell me, after everything we've already talked through and done, that this is not right. That it's closer to what my old normal was. You do not get to do that." I just stare at her, still in shock, she hit me. Again. That has to be the third or fourth time. It wasn't hard, the equivalent of cold water being thrown in my face. "I don't care what other people will think and the only reason you do is because your hurting. Your hurting and you're trying to make me be the one to push you away. Stop it."
"You hit me." I say dumbly, touching my cheek.
"Yes. And if you say something like that again I'll do worse than hit you."
"I know it's bad when you're using your Spiridon threats."
She tries not to smile but then her expression sobers. "You told me you were sure."
"I am." I say, kissing the palm that stung my cheek. "But I was sure about my family and look how that turned out."
"I'm not your family."
"Aren't you?"
She blinks rapidly, her lovely face shocked and tender. I am sure of how I feel, I was sure of her, I was sure I didn't want to be with anyone else and would never feel like this for another. She'd pried open feelings I'd long since thought buried without a map to find. I felt something new beginning with her which perplexes me as I'd resigned myself to apathy and regime. Happiness being something far off and in a vague picture that included setting off fireworks with Paul or helping my grandmother cook in the kitchen, comforts but not this. Nothing like this.
"I- I don't know what I am." She whispers.
Too much. It was too much for her right now.
"You, are what I'm sure of. I'm sorry I made you think I doubted that."
She nods. "I know. And I didn't doubt."
I lift her from her seat into my lap so I can hold her to me, the closest thing to home. Berries and vanilla, soft skin with survivor marks, long hair with hidden gold, and her steady heartbeat.
She tugs out the hair tie and sinks her fingers into the strands, stroking the nape of my neck. "They will forgive you."
I exhale. "Maybe."
"Let's go to bed." She murmurs and I nod.
I stash the bottle back in the freezer and ask her to promise she won't tell Natalie about it. As we go up the stairs I pause a few steps behind to listen but the house is silent. I follow her in and lock the door. I set my alarm as she crawls under the covers.
"Are you sleeping in your jeans again?"
"Why?"
"Just seems uncomfortable is all."
"I question your motives."
"Of course you do. I can never just have purely innocent thoughts about your comfort can I?"
"I think you think about my comfort a lot and there's nothing innocent about it."
She burrows down as if that's going to help hide her flaming face and I chuckle. I unbuckle my belt and she raises her eyebrows and it's quite funny seeing that the only part of her visible is from her eyes up.
"Can you be trusted?" I ask sternly.
Those brown eyes plead honourable intent and I smirk. I slide the belt off and sit down to undo my boots. I pull my shirt over my head and slide in beside her. She slots into her space, head on my shoulder and my arm curled around her, hand resting on her hip.
I hated sleeping in clothes but I've been too conscious of how I found her that night and how she could feel about any aspect of sex. The first time she'd had her period she'd hidden it, suffered, panicked that it meant she'd inevitably end up with a child. I would keep reminding her those choices are entirely her own and no one would take it from her. I worry that some part of her thinks it's an expectation she's got to make herself comfortable with. I won't risk that. She has to be her first priority as she is mine.
However I did say things to her, I couldn't help it. Maybe I should stop with all the implied suggestions of what was going on in my head but the thing is I wanted her to know she was captivating, I wanted her to own that. I wanted her to know how she affected me, not just physically but in every other way.
God, maybe I am removed from sensibility.
I would have to trust her to communicate with me and I would have to take extra care to ask and push when I thought she was holding back.
I can't stand the idea of hurting her. Of her sacrificing anything of herself for me.
"You're not sleeping." She accuses.
"Well, not now."
"You haven't been sleeping." She says, tilting her head back.
"I sleep when I'm here." I kiss her forehead and she settles back.
It wasn't a lie. I managed between three and five hours with her beside me. It's too much of a risk to stay longer. When I go back to my bed I kill time thinking through things. I used to run but that had been classified as cheating and besides, I liked running with her.
I rub her hip in soothing motions.
If Victor wanted to he could find out where Janine and the others had come from. He could apply that kind of pressure. He just didn't care to. And Tasha had offered before to try and look into things but how could I ask her for a favour after turning her down. Actually, maybe I could, it was an offer it wasn't a declaration of love. She didn't care for me beyond a friend, a confidante, and that was the most Royals could marry for these days.
Rose traces patterns on my bare skin and I try to ignore how I react to it. I close my eyes to feign sleep when she kisses my chest. I should have kept the shirt on.
Inhale. Exhale.
"What else were you angry about?" Her breath fanning the spot she'd just touched with her lips.
She props herself up on her elbow when I don't respond. How the fuck did I tell her about Victor and Tasha meddling without it causing more hostility, not just toward Tasha but Victor too? Especially with this damn dinner tomorrow.
It doesn't feel right to not tell her but I hear myself deflecting, "It's another matter I need to sort out. I was upset about my sisters and something tipped me over. I shouldn't have reacted like that."
She rests her chin on my chest. "Where did you and Spiridon go?"
"We hunted a Strigoi." I open my eyes to find her staring at me with the alarm I thought I'd receive earlier. "It was young and too close to the school."
"And you went by yourselves? What if there had been more?"
"There wasn't."
She sits up to face me and those eyes are blazing again. "They've been working in groups. Ben said so. There could have been more."
I push myself up. "We had enough evidence to believe there was only one. We tracked it, we lured it out and we dealt with it."
"But-"
"Roza." I sigh, weary of the night and what it's wrung out of me. "We knew what we were doing. I needed to. I needed an outlet."
She still looks pissed. "But your still recovering."
The animal opens one eye to that. "I am fine."
"Ben said you-"
"What did Ben say?"
Her fiery gaze reacts to my cool tone, sparks cracking the warm wood.
"That you are slower." She says deliberately.
Ben needed to stop opening his mouth and spewing every thought in his head.
I lean forward and she lifts her chin. "I might be slower but I still best him and he has no excuse. So there's no need to worry."
We stare at each other until her eyes drop to my lips and I throw myself back. "I don't want to argue."
"I wasn't trying to! You can't say you went off after a monster and not expect me to not care about it. Why the hell are you smirking?"
I shake my head and force it off my lips before saying. "I'm not."
"Oh let me guess. It's stupid I care about you going off to do that because it's nothing to you, it's just so easy and how would I know? It's stupid because even though you're slower you are still so capable never mind the last time you went out after one you fell off a - "
I sit up and she starts when my hands slide over her cheeks. "I was smiling because no one has cared...in a long time."
"Oh."
I frown. "Have I ever made you feel stupid?"
I feel her cheeks heat under my hands but she doesn't look away. "No."
She leans in and I say her name in caution, my head still on that the train of thought that we needed to take things slower, but when she presses her mouth against mine I'm lost to it. She pushes me back and climbs over me, not breaking the kiss. One hand slides to the back of her head, tangling in the dark waves, and the other to her hip. I make them stay there. Hers roam all over me and it's maddening. Short nails raking against my torso until they stop at my waistband. I pull her against me so they can't get us into more trouble which is a good thing as she chooses that moment to run her tongue over my bottom lip.
The reigns slip.
I sit up, pulling her deeper in my lap as she parts my lips. My fingers curl into the material of her pyjama bottoms and thank god she's not in just my shirt. As much as I loved that.
I kiss her until she has to break away but my lips don't leave her, I found it impossible to leave her.
"Is it like this with other people?" She whispers breathlessly.
I kiss that spot just under her ear and she shudders against my skin. "No."
My hands drive up her thighs, over her hips, into the dip of her waist, lighter over her ribs, and between her shoulder blades to press her closer to me. Berries and Vanilla. She grips my shoulders and I can't help but remember the thin pink scratches she'd left on my arm when I had her spread out for me.
"You've never craved anyone?" She asks with a tone of surprise.
I lean back, caught on that one word. "Crave?"
She searches my face, looking for the significance of the word there. Her fingers smooth my hair back. I stare back into those eyes I loved so much. "Do you crave me, Roza?"
Her lips part and she utters so simply, "Yes."
She smiles at whatever expression is on my face and pulls me back to her.
She craves me.
I flip us, wanting her under me, wanting the vantage point. I kiss her in the way I know will earn me that little noise low in her throat and grip the covers when I get it. I move down her throat, just wanting to appreciate every inch of skin I can find. Her hands move into my line of sight, to the first button of her top.
I pause. "Rose."
She undoes it.
A door shuts in the house and we both freeze. I hear the first step in the hall. I press the quickest kiss to her lips and vault off the bed, snatching up my shirt, belt and lifting my boots before she's sat up. I cross to the door to listen and the footsteps stop down the hall.
Rose shifts on the bed and begins to say something but I hold up my hand to ward her off.
A door shuts quietly. The library or the office.
"I have to go." I mouth to her.
She looks so disappointed it crushes me. I set down my boots and stalk back to her. She reaches for me, one desperate kiss goodnight.
"I'll see you in the morning." It doesn't sound like it's enough.
She nods, her gaze downturned. I lean down so my lips are level with her ear. "I'll be craving you too."
Her sharp intake nearly wrecks my resolve but I need to leave. At the door I listen but Ben or Spiridon are still in the room, I undo the lock and turn the handle as carefully and quickly as possible.
"Goodnight." She whispers and I slip into the dark hall.
I hold my breath and take two quick steps to my bedroom, anticipating a door at the end of the hall to be thrown open. Then I'm inside.
I lean my head back against the door. I can still see her sitting there, disappointed. She said she was willing to lie for this but I wonder how much can she take of having only pieces stolen here and there. How much could I take?
I pull on my shirt. I wouldn't be able to sleep now and what were they doing up in the late morning? I lace up my boots and step back into the hallway with deliberate weight underfoot, closing my door with an audible click. I take two steps down when Victor's office door opens and Ben steps out.
I raise an eyebrow.
He nods sleepily, holding up a tablet. "Security reset."
Ah.
"What are you doing up?"
"Can't sleep. I'm going to go down and go over the files."
"Really? Now?"
I shrug.
"Man, you need to sleep."
"I will."
"When you're dead?" I grin and he raises his eyebrows. "Crazy bastard. Everything alright earlier?"
I nod, feeling lighter. "I need to apologise to him."
Ben snorts. "I think we could tally up enough reasons why you don't. Anyway, see you tomorrow evening."
I grab a bottle of water and head down to the basement, taking up my usual spot at the desk.
I open the thin file. "Scotland...left at eighteen...Europe…"
/
The second half of this chapter is coming soon - just thought 19k was a bit much for one sitting :)