Splinter (Reliquary Series Book 2)

by Sarah Fine

  I reached up and swiped a hand across my mouth, sagging a little as it came away smeared with blood. “I don’t think we know each other.”

  “I feel like I know you. I listened to all they said about you.” His accent was rich, vibrating along my bones. “But I suppose I should observe the formalities. I am Arkady Igorevich Kalagin.” He bowed his head. “I am in the service of Volodya Dimitrievich Zobkov.” He brought his head up and met my eyes. “And I am seeking the original Sensilo relic. In this respect I believe you can be helpful to me.”

  I never thought I’d be truly thankful for the pain the Strikon splinter caused me, but right then, I swear I could feel Arkady’s power pressing close around me, caressing my shoulders and throat, my legs and waist—but not sticking. “Actually, I don’t think I can. Sorry. It’s true that I had it, but as far as I know, it’s long gone.”

  “Dolores.” Arkady turned his attention to the old woman, who had moved to stand obediently next to her front door. “Please slam your hand in the door.”

  “Of course!” She swung the door wide and placed her left hand on the doorframe.

  “Don’t,” I said sharply, walking over and grabbing the door just as she started to slam it shut. Maybe I was weak—or she was surprisingly determined—but she pulled it from my grip and shut the door hard, letting out a whimper as her fingers were crushed.

  “Don’t let her stop you, Dolores. You know you need to obey me. Now do it again.”

  Dolores’s wrinkled little face radiated frustration as I once again reached for her. “You back off now, dearie, or I’ll have to hurt you.”

  I looked over my shoulder at Arkady, who was leaning against the wall, a smile playing across his lips. “Cut it out, you jerk! She’s just an innocent old lady.”

  “I can’t help it, Mattie. You won’t give me what I need. I’m in despair.” He winked at me.

  Dolores elbowed me in the stomach. I staggered backward and landed in a clumsy sprawl on the living room floor. The old woman immediately resumed her project of destroying her left hand. She opened the door wide, her cheeks pulled back in rigid anticipation of the pain to come.

  “Stop this and we can talk,” I shouted.

  “Dolores, hold on a moment,” Arkady said. “Actually, just to make this fun, please go into the kitchen and fetch your sharpest knife.”

  “You bet.” She let go of the door and walked to the kitchen, her bruised left hand hanging at her side. I was panting as I stared up at her, horrified that he could so casually destroy a completely innocent woman. Headsmen who had locked him up were one thing—this was entirely another.

  Arkady settled himself on the arm of the couch. “Reliquaries aren’t usually so skilled at resisting my charms.”

  “I’m special.” I sat up a little straighter. “And I won’t help you until you let her go.”

  He laughed softly. “Oh, you are so amusing.”

  Dolores emerged from the kitchen with a steak knife in her hand. “Will this do?”

  “Do you think you could sever your own jugular with it?”

  “My jugular?” She looked down at her belly.

  “Your neck, dear.”

  “Oh!” She squinted at the blade of the knife and touched her throat. “Probably. If I sawed hard enough.”

  “You’re insane,” I said in a choked voice.

  Arkady scoffed. “That is not accurate at all. People who are insane do not know what is right from what is wrong. I have no problem to recognize that persuading an old woman to cut her own throat is utterly appalling.” He shrugged. “But would the fault not be yours? All I ask is that you help me find what was stolen.”

  I looked back and forth from the old woman to the debonair Russian assassin. If I didn’t know full well that he’d just coerced several sheriff’s deputies into setting him free and then shooting each other—or themselves—I would have called his bluff. But a woman’s life hung in the balance. “What do you want?”

  “A mere phone call.” He pulled a phone out of his pocket and tapped it, then held it up and showed me the picture of me and Ben.

  My stomach dropped. “Is that Agent Winslow’s phone?”

  “He was most helpful. He told me this man you are to marry is the one who has the relic in his possession, but that he is willing to exchange it for you. So romantic.”

  I stared at the phone. “He told you all that? But . . . he’s a Knedas.”

  “Yet I, my dear, am a better one.” He smoothed his hand over his dark hair, revealing his widow’s peak. “I particularly love dealing with the people like him. So used to being the chess master. Imagine his surprise when he became the pawn.”

  “Did you kill him?” I whispered.

  “Oh, no.” He grinned. “Agent Badem did that for me. Just before she took her own life.”

  “I think I’m going to be sick.”

  He stood up. “Why should you not be glad? You and I, we are not so different. We were both at their mercy. The Headsmen.” His full lips curled with disgust. “They fashion themselves as the good guys, the white hats as you say. But look at how they treat their fellow naturals.” He gestured back and forth between us. “We have no rights—even here in America! They lock us up. Torture us. Worse than KGB on their very cruelest day.”

  “So basically, they’re like you?”

  “No, not like me. You see, I never claimed to be a good guy.”

  I shuddered as I looked down at the image of Ben and me on the screen of the phone he had clutched in his hand. “Fair point.”

  “Ah. I see that you can be reasoned with. This is hopeful. But just in case, one moment—Dolores, do you have a knife sharpener?”

  “I think I do.”

  “Please use it. Test the blade on your palm to make sure it cuts the flesh like it was butter.”

  “Happy to!”

  I groaned, tears stinging my eyes. “Please don’t hurt her.”

  “Again, that is entirely up to you. Are you ready to talk to your Benjamin?”

  I winced at the sound of metal on stone. “Yes.”

  He wiped a tear off my cheek. “This will not do, Mattie. You must not sound frightened when you speak with him. I would have to make Dolores bleed by her own hand if you did that.”

  “What do you want me to say?”

  “I will make the call from Winslow’s phone. Tell him you are with the agent who rescued you from the carnival. Tell him that you are no longer under the influence of Asa Ward.” Our eyes met as he said Asa’s name. “I only know Mr. Ward by reputation, but I would love to hear more.”

  “You and everyone else.”

  “Well, now I am even more intrigued. Where is Mr. Ward now?”

  “That’s the twentieth time in recent memory that someone’s asked me that question. But I swear, I don’t know.” And even if I did, the pain in my chest was jagged enough to enable me to keep my mouth shut.

  He sighed. “We will come back to that later. Priorities.” He held out the phone. “Shall we call Benjamin Ward? Are you ready to convince him?”

  “What am I convincing him of, exactly?”

  “Tell him to bring the relic and meet us outside Fleeger’s Tavern in Barrett’s Corner at midnight.”

  “Where?”

  He rolled his eyes. “Dolores . . .”

  “Okay! Call him! I’ll do it!”

  He gave me a tight smile and called Ben’s number and set it to speaker as Dolores came out of the kitchen with her knife gleaming—and her palm dripping blood from a three-inch gash. I stifled a sob as I heard Ben say, “Hello? Agent Winslow?”

  “It’s me.” I rubbed my face and desperately tried to pull myself together.

  “Mattie, thank God. I’ve been dying, just waiting to hear your voice again.”

  “You made quite an exit from the carnival.” I cleared my throat, trying to knock away the terrified tremor.

  “I had to risk it. Nothing is as important to me as you are.”

  I swallowed
hard. “I can see that.”

  “I’ll hand the relic over whenever. Wherever. As long as you come home with me.”

  I told Ben where the “agent” wanted him to meet us, even as a dark fear stirred inside of me. I glanced at Dolores, who was standing placidly as she bled onto the living room carpet. “We can just drop the relic and get going.” I looked at Arkady, pleading. “Right?”

  He nodded and smiled.

  “Sounds perfect to me,” said Ben. “I want you to know, Mattie—I’m going to leave Asa’s van where he can find it. He thinks I’m guilty of a lot of other stuff—I don’t want stealing his ride to be one of them.”

  “Okay. That’ll be good.”

  Arkady looked somewhat intrigued by the mention of Asa’s van, but he gestured for me to wrap up the call. “I guess I’ll see you at midnight,” I said, wishing dread allowed my words to flow a little more easily.

  “You okay, babe? I know you’ve been through so much. But I swear, we’re almost through it.”

  “I’m fine,” I mumbled, rubbing my chest. “I’ll see you soon.”

  Arkady ended the call, then looked at his watch. “We have three hours until our meeting. What do you say to some dinner? Should we have Dolores make us a home-cooked meal?”

  I looked up at him in horror, and then at Dolores. Arkady plucked the bloody knife from her hand and laid it on the counter. “Say no more,” he said. “Let us go out.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  We ended up in a little roadside bar with hunting trophies all over the walls—leaping fish, staring deer, and one snarling bobcat—and slipped into a booth with a gummy tabletop presided over by a shriveled red fox whose plastic eyes were so round and big that it looked terrified.

  I probably wore a similar expression as Arkady settled himself across from me. My pain was the only thing keeping me from Dolores’s blank-eyed fate, but I knew too well that everyone around me was in danger as a result—and that meant that I had to be very careful about any escape plans. A waitress immediately came over like she’d been yanked by a hook, and he ordered a vodka and a reuben. I wasn’t hungry but had barely eaten in days, so I ordered an orange juice and some toast with peanut butter.

  “Come. This calls for a drink.” Arkady made a dismissive gesture at the waitress. “Fetch my friend a vodka as well.”

  “Be back in two shakes of a lamb’s tail,” said the young woman.

  I smiled at her and didn’t contradict him. I was afraid that if I turned down his gift of vodka, he’d have her stab herself in the eye with a fork. It was a relief when she disappeared into the kitchen—but of course that meant I was alone with him. “So . . . have you traveled to the States a lot?” I asked, hoping to keep the conversation shallow while my mind raced to figure out a plan.

  “Several times.” He laid his arm along the back of the booth and gave the terrified fox an amused look. “This is a rather silly country, but you do have many nice things. And the things you people do with magic?” He chuckled and kissed the tips of his fingers. “Very creative.”

  I thought of Asa and the improvised magical weaponry he carried in his pockets, badly wishing he were here right now. “I’m not really into the magical world, so I wouldn’t know. I just want to go home.”

  “Home to Sheboygan, Wisconsin?” He said the name of my home state in that exaggerated American accent, wrapping his lips around the second syllable as if it were trying to escape. But even though it sounded funny, it still felt like a threat.

  “Does it matter? We’re going to give you the relic, and then you can go home.”

  “Yes, my boss is fairly eager to have his relic back.” He accepted a shot of vodka from the waitress and downed it in one swallow, then eyed the one she’d set in front of me.

  I pushed it toward him. “I don’t really drink.”

  He tossed that one back as well. “I would love to hear how one of the original four relics ended up in the hands of a young couple from this state of Wisconsin. Especially since all this time, we believed we had possession of it.”

  I took a sip of my orange juice. “It’s really not that interesting.”

  Our waitress returned with our food, but once she’d set it on the table, she merely stood there. Arkady patted the back of her hand as he looked into my eyes, and I let out a shaky breath. “Message received.” For two seconds, I considered lying, but then realized that if he saw through it, our waitress would pay the price. “My grandfather was a reliquary. My last name is Carver.” At least I knew he couldn’t hurt my grandpa.

  Arkady’s eyes widened for an instant. “You are the granddaughter of Howard Carver?” He threw back his head and laughed. “It seems I am doomed to be haunted by the progeny of colleagues past.”

  He was talking about Jack the Third, I was sure. “Colleagues? Is that what you call the people you captured and threatened to torture?”

  “Jack Okafor and Howard Carver were intruders and thieves. They came to Russia to plunder and profit. It is my job to protect the interests of my master.” His hand gripped the back of the booth. “Even when he does not have his own best interests in mind.”

  “Well, I guess I won’t argue with the thief part, since they stole the Sensilo relic right out from under you.”

  “But what I don’t understand is how—” Arkady’s face hardened, and his eyes became slits. “Theresa,” he growled.

  I stayed very still. Jack and Grandpa were dead, but I had no idea if Theresa the sensor was, and I didn’t want to do or say anything to put her in danger—especially if she happened to be Asa and Ben’s mom. “Um. Who’s Theresa?”

  “A traitor! On this I bet my life,” he said through clenched teeth, then glanced at our waitress, who was still standing at our table.

  She looked down at him. “I’ll be right back with that vodka, sir,” she said and rushed away from the table.

  With shaking hands, I spread peanut butter on my toast. “And you think she had something to do with the theft of the relic?”

  “It explains so much.” He ran his hands over his face, looking suddenly weary. “This will break Volodya’s heart. All these years, he has refused to believe she would betray him. He punished anyone who even suggested it. He sent us to the edges of the world to search for her. He has held on to the belief that she was taken from him, and now he will have to face the terrible truth—she took from him.”

  “So she disappeared?”

  He nodded. “Perhaps fifteen years ago. Soon after my final encounter with your grandfather and Mr. Okafor. Now I realize it must have been around that time she helped them to acquire the Sensilo relic. No one but her could have recognized the false relic she left behind. Only a very powerful sensor could detect the difference.” He slammed his fist down on the table. “If I ever find her . . .”

  A tight knot inside me loosened slightly—she was out of his reach. “Did you know her well?”

  He took the third vodka shot from the waitress’s tray before she had a chance to put it on the table. After he drained it, the stiff line of his shoulders softened, and I wondered if maybe the vodka was my best ally at the moment.

  “I doubt anyone really knew her,” he said, “though my master would have done anything for her. She was precious to him.” He grunted. “She found me distasteful. My Lishka as well.” He muttered something to himself and reached into the collar of his shirt, pulling out a gold chain from which hung a wedding ring. “My late wife was a beautiful woman, you know. But she was poisonous.” He smiled sadly and stared at his reflection in the narrow band. “Theresa could not stand to be in the room with us. I was glad when she was gone, because while she was at Volodya’s side, he exiled my Lishka and me to the very edges of his territory. But soon I realized Theresa was not really gone. Volodya was consumed with her. She escaped him once, but despite that, he could not fathom why she would do it again.”

  “What do you mean, she escaped him once?”

  “Well, she was American, you know. An
d they met young, just as he was gathering power. It was the height of the Soviet Union. He was the son of a party official, but he is also a gifted sensor. Not magic—emotion. It is nearly impossible to lie to this man.” Arkady smacked his lips and accepted a fourth shot as it arrived. My hope grew as he downed it.

  “If he’s such a powerful emotion sensor, though, couldn’t he tell what she was feeling?”

  “Not with her. And he found it intriguing.” He rolled his eyes. “That must be it, as she was no great beauty. She had a strong face. A strong presence. But she was not like my Lishka.” He smiled wistfully.

  “If she was American and he was Russian, how did they meet?”

  “He caught her trying to steal from him, of course, little thief. She tried to leave East Germany with a powerful Knedas relic. He could have had her shot.” His eyes shone. “He could have called me. I would have taken care of her. But my master has a tender heart. Instead of punishing her, he took her under his protection.”

  “Magic sensors are pretty valuable,” I muttered.

  “She was his jewel. With her at his side, he rose in power, collecting the most powerful and valuable relics and artifacts in the world, acquiring the best people to work for him, building his juicing operations and infrastructure for the sale of the product, bribing all the right people and blackmailing the others. And then, just as they had the world at their feet, the little bitch ran away.”

  “When was this?” I was frantically trying to build a timeline to see if the pieces fit.

  “She could not have picked a better time. It was Christmas of 1982, when our two countries were on the brink of war. Even for people like us, crossing borders became more difficult. I think Volodya did not realize how much he had come to depend on her. We needed her talents in order to find her, this you understand?”

  “Yeah.” I forced myself to take a bite of my peanut butter toast even though my chest was blazing and my stomach was off. “So how did he get her back?”

  “He sent me and Lishka to search. Many others, too. Theresa covered her tracks very well, and like I said, the travel was not so easy. Headsmen were vicious in those days—I think perhaps your president Reagan had them targeting the Soviets. Who knows how much he paid them. But eventually, we narrowed our search to the middle of your country. And then, just as we believed we might be close to finding her, she appeared in Thailand.”