by Fine, Sarah
“I think you know the answer to that,” I said as I joined him, my hand over the roofie pen in my pocket. This was going to be tricky. And maybe I shouldn’t do it at all—not before I had Asa. Not when I didn’t know if he was safe. What would Volodya’s agents do to Asa once they found out their boss had been captured?
“What’s wrong?” Volodya asked, turning to me with a bottle of what looked like vodka in his hand. “You are troubled.”
I shrugged. “I’m wanting to make this exchange, that’s all.”
He poured the clear liquid into two tall, thin shot glasses, the openings of which were depressingly narrow. Not only did I have to use the pen without him noticing, but my aim had to be perfect.
And quick. He pushed one glass toward me and had his at his lips before I could blink. He tossed it back and set the glass down sharply on the counter. “Drink. Then I want to see my relic.”
I lifted the glass and took a sip, then put it back onto the bar. “Not until I see Asa. That was the deal.”
He sighed impatiently. “You are more stubborn than is convenient.”
I stared up at him, a new fear starting to seep up through the cracks in my shield. “Call him.”
“What?”
“Call him. If he’s really on his way, whoever’s bringing him has a phone, right? So call them. I want to hear his voice.”
He ran the backs of his fingers along his jaw. “And if I don’t?”
“Then I’m out of here.”
As I took a step back, Volodya’s arm snaked around my waist, and he hauled me against him. The Ekstazo relic was pinned between us.
“Mattie. Do you mind if I call you Mattie?”
I’d never given him my name. “Um. No.”
“Mattie, I want you to understand your . . . situation. Everyone in this hotel works for me. I have eyes and ears all over the city. And I want my relic. Do you really think I’m going to let you leave with what is mine?”
I swallowed the lump of realization and grief that had formed in my throat. “You don’t have Asa, do you?”
He smiled, razor sharp and lethally familiar. “Perhaps. Perhaps not. Either way, you will give me the relic.”
I began to struggle against him. “Let me go.”
“Oh,” he said, closing his eyes. “Your horror . . . it’s like a sip of exquisite poison.”
“I’ll give you poison,” I snarled, grabbing the pen from my pocket and lifting it.
Hey, I couldn’t get it into his drink. So I squirted it straight up his nose.
He shoved me away from him, snorting and sniffling and coughing. I hit the ground in a sprawl. “Poison?” he snapped, his fingers flexing.
“It won’t kill you,” I said, scooting backward. “I just wanted you to let go.”
“Liar,” he roared, pulling his buzzing phone from his pocket. He pressed it to his ear, and his eyes went wide. After several curt questions, he stopped midsentence, looking at the silent phone as if it had betrayed him. He turned the same look on me a second later. “Headsmen have swarmed the lobby.” He paused, staring at me. “And you are helping them!”
I scooted backward as he staggered toward me. “You don’t know what you’ve done,” he said, starting to slur. “You can’t let them . . .”
“You’re a liar,” I said, dodging out of the way and jumping to my feet. “You never planned to give Asa back.”
“Because I never . . . took . . . Asa. When you said you wanted him . . . I made some calls. I know . . . who has him.”
I froze. “You do?”
He nodded, swaying in place. “I . . . do. But I will only . . . tell you. If you . . . get me . . . out.”
“You lied to me once already and—”
“Don’t waste this chance,” he said slowly, obviously having to think about each word. “Asa Ward is a prisoner.”
“Tell me who has him,” I shouted as I heard a door slam down the hall. “Tell me or I’m giving you up!”
“It’s . . .” His eyes rolled in his head. “I can . . . help you.”
He was so out of it that I could barely understand him. Caught in a web of indecision, my fingers curled around the compact as footsteps thundered down the hall toward us.
Who did I want to double-cross? The Headsmen or the boss? Who did I want indebted to me?
Keenan hadn’t had the slightest idea where Asa was.
But Volodya might. And on top of that, whether he knew it or not . . . he was Asa’s father.
I pulled the compact from my pocket just as the door to the suite splintered and swung open to reveal three Headsmen, with Keenan in the lead. He took one look at the unsteady Volodya and smiled.
Hoping I wasn’t making the biggest mistake of my life, I unleashed the fire.
CHAPTER TWELVE
I noticed that the Headsmen were wearing silver wrist cuffs meant to protect them from Knedas magic, but Theresa’s relic overpowered their defenses instantly. All three of them screamed and threw their hands over their faces, even as Keenan shouted, “It’s not real!”
He stumbled forward, swiping frantically, his face a grimace of horror and pain. I could practically see the flames creeping along his sleeves and singeing his hair. “Mattie!” he roared.
“I’m sorry! I have to get Asa!” I pulled Volodya’s arm around my shoulders and helped him sidestep the flailing Headsmen. He leaned on me, allowing me to pull him into the hallway and steer him toward the private elevator. I knew there might be Headsmen in the lobby, but I also knew that there was no freaking way I could safely get Volodya down the stairs.
“Basement,” Volodya mumbled as I reached out to press the button for the first floor. “Basement.”
Keenan was bellowing my name as the elevator doors slid shut. They opened to a long hallway leading to laundry rooms and kitchens. A few of the hotel staff came running up to us and helped me get Volodya down the corridor. Another ran ahead, and when we emerged from an employee exit down the block from the main hotel doors, a taxi was waiting. With the assistance of a stocky cook in a stained apron, I stuffed Volodya into the backseat. Then I hopped in after him and barked out the address for Theresa’s Solntsevo apartment.
“But I take you to the tower,” said the driver.
“No! It’s not safe there. Please.”
The driver looked back at Volodya and frowned, but then nodded. I relaxed a little.
I had nowhere else to go, really. And given the fact that the Russian boss was drooling on my shoulder, I figured it might be okay. He snored softly as the driver wended his way across the city and I stared out the back window, praying we weren’t being tailed.
Also praying that Theresa wouldn’t kill both of us the moment we arrived.
I had the driver help me get Volodya into the vestibule of the run-down apartment building and then sent him packing.
Technically speaking, I’d just kidnapped the boss of Russia, thanks to the smoke screen provided by the raiding Headsmen.
I pressed the button for Theresa’s apartment. The intercom rang and clicked over. I looked up into the camera mounted above the number pad. “Theresa, it’s me. But . . . I have a guest. And it’s not the one you were expecting.” I pushed Volodya’s chin up so his face was visible to the camera. “He’s been drugged.”
There was a long pause, and then the door buzzed. I managed to get Volodya through it, but then nearly dropped him as his legs gave out and his head lolled. Theresa came running down the hall, her face white. “What the hell happened?” she snarled as she got on Volodya’s other side and helped me drag the unconscious man down the hall.
I told her the choice I had made, and how I had used her Knedas fire glamour. “It’s very unusual for the Headsmen to target a boss directly,” she said with a huff. “But then again, few are as arrogant or dangerous as this man.” She was sweating from having him up against her, and maybe from the storm of emotions that must have been swirling inside her.
“I’m so sorry I brought him
here,” I said as she opened her door and helped me get him inside the flat. “I thought it would be better than heading back into the belly of the beast.”
“What’s he been drugged with?” she asked as we laid him on the couch, where he sprawled, his eyes and mouth half-open.
“Rohypnol. He’s not going to remember any of this.”
“Good,” she murmured, her eyes on his face. “If he finds out I’m alive, he’ll never stop hunting me.” She slowly sat on the edge of the couch, her eyes shining with tears. “I should kill him. I should.”
I touched her arm. “He said he had found out who kidnapped Asa.”
“And you believed him?”
“I’m not saying I trust him at all—especially since he pretended to have Asa this whole time—but I think there’s a possibility he does know. I had to make the call. But I’m going to have to ask you not to murder the dude until we find out if he’s still lying.” I shrugged. “If he is, I might help you kill him. Or at least dispose of the body. I just have to know one thing first.”
“Which is?”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked quietly.
“Tell you . . . ?”
“This man is his father, Theresa. Do either of them have any idea?”
“Don is Asa’s father,” she barked.
“I don’t need a sensing relic to know you’re lying.” I pointed down at Volodya, limp and helpless on the threadbare couch. “One look at him was all it took. Did you actually think I wouldn’t see it?”
She squeezed her eyes shut. “I haven’t actually laid eyes on my son since he was a child,” she whispered. “I’ve only sensed him.” She sniffled and wiped her nose on her sleeve. “Do they look that much alike?”
“It’s not just how they look. It’s how they move. How they stand. How they smile. It’s eerie, Theresa. It’s hard to believe either one of them wouldn’t realize it if they were in the same room.”
Her eyes went wide. “Volodya cannot find out. Neither can Asa.”
“But maybe it would give Volodya more motivation to help us!”
“He cannot know,” she said, her voice tinged with panic. “He can never know.”
“It’s why you ran from him the first time, isn’t it?”
She looked down at her belly, covering it with her hands. “I felt him,” she breathed. “Before I knew for sure that I was pregnant, I felt my son’s power. It was this . . .” She let out a small, tear-stained laugh. “Little sparkling thing. I knew it wasn’t coming from me. I knew I wasn’t alone anymore. And I knew he would never survive if I didn’t get him away from Volodya, from his empire of magic, from his exquisite cruelty. It was destroying me. How could my baby endure it?”
“So you ran back to your hometown and found a guy who couldn’t say no to you,” I guessed.
“Don was a good man.”
“No, Theresa. He wasn’t.”
She turned away. “He was better than the alternative. I needed to give Asa the best chance I could. And Don was it. He owned a house. He had a steady job, and he worked hard. And he didn’t know about magic.”
“Did he know that Asa wasn’t his?”
She sighed. “Asa was small when he was born. So small. I think the magic in me had already taken a toll on him. He got used to it after he was born, I think, and my magic became background noise for him, but in the womb, being surrounded by it day and night . . .” She shook her head. “It’s a miracle he survived. Not even the doctors questioned that he was premature.”
“And Don didn’t doubt for a minute?”
She looked over her shoulder and gave me a sad smile. “One of my favorite things about him.”
“Well, Don might not have asked questions, but Volodya asks a lot of them.”
“But he has no idea Asa is my son, that we are connected in even the remotest way, save our abilities. No one has the slightest idea, except for you. Volodya might see a resemblance, but he won’t have a context to connect the dots.”
I gaped at her. “Theresa. Asa has your eyes exactly.” A striking honey brown, little gold threads, mesmerizing. “It’s how I recognized you.”
“They won’t figure it out,” she shouted, clenching her fists and coming toward me. “If you can’t keep the secret, I swear I’ll douse you in Knedas juice and make you forget you ever knew my son.”
She was shaking all over. Every few seconds, her eyes darted down to the man on the couch, her face radiating fear and sorrow. Once again, I was reminded of her anguished cries in the night, her pleas for mercy. Running from Volodya to save Asa had taken courage and determination. Running from Asa to save him again had to have broken her heart. Not to mention years in captivity with those magic-infused cuffs on her wrists. And now the man who had done all of it to her was only a few feet away, and all her secrets were on the verge of being revealed.
But that didn’t mean I was bowing to her threat. “I’m not your enemy, Theresa. All I care about is getting Asa back safe. And when I do, you can deal with your son. But if you try to pull any of that crap on me, not only will I do my best to fight you, but I guarantee Asa will, too.”
I walked over to the small bag of stuff I’d packed before leaving Theresa’s hideout. She’d left it on the small kitchen table. I dug through it and pulled out the necklace Asa had given me for Christmas. My piece of Asa, of home.
Theresa’s lip curled. “He probably only gave you that so he could track you.”
“That might be true.” I fastened the chain around my neck and felt the warm tingle of the vial against my skin. “I’ve lost count of the number of times he’s saved me. But I’ve saved him, too. I’ve taken care of him, made sure he ate well, made sure he was warm.” I chuckled. “I’ve hiked halfway across Tokyo and haggled with a grumpy old grocer who couldn’t speak a word of English, just to get the ingredients I needed to make Asa some herbal cough medicine when he had a cold.” My eyes met hers. “I can’t say for sure what I mean to him. He never got the chance to tell me. But if his actions are even the slightest indication . . . He loves me, Theresa.”
As the words came out of my mouth, I knew they were true. Yeah, I was always after him, trying to make sure he stayed healthy, but he was always trying to make sure I was happy. He always gave me the window seat. Always managed to find the best french fries, no matter what country we were in—even though he wouldn’t touch the things. He was always buying me new shoes. He made me coffee in the mornings. He gave me exactly what I needed, sometimes before I knew I needed it. I just wished I’d realized what it meant earlier. “And I love him, too. I would never keep a secret like this from him. He deserves to know.”
“He’ll never forgive me.”
“You’re wrong about him.” He might not have forgiven Ben completely for what had happened between them, but he’d more than shown that he could get past it when it counted. Admiration for him swelled inside me. Once I got him back, I would let him see it. I would make him feel it. “Just help me get him back safe, and we’ll sort it all out.”
The fear lingered in her gaze. Then she glanced down at Volodya again, lifted her head, and nodded. “I’ll help you. But I can’t stay here with him.”
“What about Botwright’s people? When is Myron arriving? That could complicate things.”
“Hmm?” She was hovering next to Volodya’s body, looking caught between fight and flight. “Oh, I don’t think that’ll be an issue.”
“Because?”
“Because I never contacted Botwright.”
I stared at her. “You lied to me.”
“To keep you safe in Volodya’s presence.”
“But I’m still just a pawn to you. Why should I believe you’re actually helping now?”
“Would knowing the truth have made it better?” She didn’t sound the slightest bit apologetic. She stared at Volodya. “Especially now. It’s this piece of shit who cannot be trusted. He’s proven it once again.”
“And yet here we are. Look—I don
’t need any more nasty surprises. I’ve had enough of them for one day.” Stiffly, I turned and walked down the hall, knowing there wasn’t any place to escape to, but needing to be away from her. I stalked into the nearest room. After a few minutes I realized I probably shouldn’t have left Theresa alone with Volodya. He might be our key to getting Asa back, and for all I knew, she might smother him as he slept, caught in some flashback of what he’d done to her in the past.
I crept to the door and peeked into the hall. Theresa was standing right where I’d left her. Her gaze was still riveted on Volodya, and her whole body was shaking. Tears streaked down her face. Her fists were clenched—around what appeared to be a steak knife.
My heart stopped. But just as I started to launch myself into the hallway to stop her from slaughtering him, the blade fell from her grasp. She sank down on her knees, laid her head on his chest, and began to sob. Her fingers rose to caress his face. Volodya stirred as if he could sense it, but didn’t surface from his stupor. “You bastard,” she said, her voice breaking.
She clung to him like that, her fingertips tracing his features, her head on his chest, her sobs echoing in the near-empty flat, while I stood transfixed, an intruder into what felt like the most private of moments—and the most strange.
One moment she was about to kill him, and the next she was holding him like she regretted every moment they’d been apart.
I slowly approached. Theresa didn’t seem to notice as I confiscated the knife and then quietly went through the kitchen drawers, removing anything sharp. I started to pad back down the hallway, then paused and looked back at two powerful, broken people, wondering at how they both seemed drawn to the person who could destroy them. And then I realized these were Asa’s parents. Both of them, together in this room. These two people had created Asa Ward, in all his fascinating, gifted, resilient complexity.
Hopefully they were my means of saving him.
Turning away, I went into the dirty bathroom and rinsed away some of the fear and strain of the last few hours. I wished I could shed the sorrow that easily.
Asa was still out there, someone’s prisoner. This whole time, I’d been pursuing a false lead while whoever took him had more time to hurt him. I knew I was racing the clock. I had to rescue him before he lost too much of himself or before he escaped in the most devastating and permanent way.
