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Jonathan groaned. “Why are you handing power tothatpsychopath? Do you remember what King said at the start of this year? We need to besubtleand not leave a massive neon sign pointing the police toward the family. Then again,” he muttered, “he said no more mass murder for you and look how that turned out.”
“She’ll be fine,” I said, ignoring the last part. Cameo was my cousin on mum’s side. She was … unpredictable.
“She’s a lunatic. She set fire to a whole fucking building because she found out they were testing makeup on animals.”
“To be fair, she got the animals out first,” I replied, mentally down the hallway with my wife.
“And locked the humansin the cages.”
“She’ll be fine,” I repeated, patting his arm. “It’s only until we find Finch and Boris, and fuckingArtur. Maybe I should get Cameo to guard Vasi—”
“Not a fuckingchance,”Jonathan growled, his nostrils flaring.
“Thanks, man.” I clapped his shoulder and strode down the hall. “Now piss off, go get some sleep. I’ve got her for now, but I want you back in the morning.”
“Yes, sir,” he mocked.
I didn’t turn even to glare at him. My attention fixed on the door down the hall behind which my wife slept. Or—had been sleeping. She blinked at me when I opened the bedroom door, relief escaping her in a hard sigh.
“You’re okay,” she said, holding out her hand to me. The glacial frost inside my chest began to thaw at the sound of her voice, and I let out a long breath. The sadness would stalk me for a while but I didn’t regret my actions.
I sat on the edge of the bed, wrapping my fingers around Vasilisa’s and bringing her knuckles to my mouth. “I’m fine. I finished what I needed to get done, and brought McDonald’s for you.”
Her brown eyes lit up. “You did?”
I stole a kiss from her lips, gentling myself until I remembered it was the last thing she wanted. Vasya practically melted when I kissed her viciously, dominating her with every press and lick and bite.
A soft, frustrated sound left her when I drew back, and that noise went right to my ego, inflating it by a hundred degrees.
“Come on, my queen, your food will get cold.”
And mine would get even less palatable.
Vasilisa climbed out of bed, but there was a sulky slant to her eyes and mouth that made me smile as she followed me out into the living room. “Where are the twins?” she asked.
“Jonathan must have locked them in their room.” The spare room had quickly evolved into the dogs’ playroom, where more often than not they could be found dozing on the leather sofa or chewing it to bits—they seemed to enjoy both in equal measure. “I don’t want you to go anywhere without them in future; dogs are in tune with the people around them. They might have sensed Artur before he approached you.”
“And Lionel might not have been shot,” she murmured, guilt heavy in her voice.
I plopped down on the big sofa and lifted my arm for her, my heart going mushy as fuck when she fit herself against me without a second thought. I pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead and said, “Lionel’s being moved to a hospital in Jersey so he can be closer to his mum. He’s fine.”
She peered up at me, hope in her eyes. I stroked her cheek with my thumb, unrepentant. I nearly fucking lost her. “He’s out of surgery?”
“And stable,” I promised, taking that guilt off her shoulders. She relaxed against my side with a deep sigh and I cuddled her tighter. “So what are we watching tonight?”
“What doyouwant to watch?” she countered. “I always choose.”
Because I loved making her happy.
I gave my answer some consideration. “I want to watch your favourite film, so I can learn why you love it.”
She chewed her lip, but leaned into me, her side flush to mine. “You don’t want to watch my favourite film, it’s a cartoon.”
I faked offence. “Excuse you, Vasilisa Marshall, I doindeedwant to watch it.”
She snorted. Probably because of the high society voice I’d put on. “Fine. It’sMulan. The original, not the remake.” She shot a shy look at me. “Are you going to judge me for my taste in movies?”
“Absolutely not,” I replied, grabbing the remote to search for her film as she reached for one of the milkshakes. “You don’t know mine.”
