But at some point, they would all learn.
CHAPTER 6
Kazimir
Darkness had always been my friend.
In the shadows of winter in Moscow, I’d relished the peace of being in my room in the dark while the snow fell softly outside my window. Where so many had grown up in poverty, I’d been surrounded by a lavish setting, my parents’ home a literal fortress. In a way, I’d been a prisoner even then, protected as a child with two guards following me everywhere I went.
Only the darkness of night allowed me any freedom. I’d run the halls of the home, pretending that I was a superhero. I’d even believed my father was at the time.
I’d learned quickly that he personified evil and I’d reveled in the knowledge, wanting more than ever to be just like him.
Because he used the darkness as a backdrop, knowing men were often at their weakest in the absence of light. That’s why being locked inside a concrete box in the dark didn’t bother me in the least.
I’d been visited by several creatures, including a few rats. One had dared annoy me, leaving itself wide open for a taste of my anger by crawling across my leg. His squeal had barely appeased the raw sense of anger furrowing inside.
I thought about Mikhail, hoping that Kirill had managed to keep him alive. The gunshot had been worse than I’d expressed, the loss of blood life threatening. Yes, my brother knew that our deaths would be considered nothing but casualties of wars, but everything he’d been through, the close to two years spent in and out of hospitals and never having any friends or being allowed to play sports had taken a huge toll on him. If my incarceration meant he had a chance at living life normally, so be it.
And Stash would make an excellent second in line. At least as long as he could control his rage. It would seem I’d already come to terms with my impending death. We would see about that. I had a few tricks up my sleeve.
With my eyes closed, I attempted to sleep. A single sound drew my attention. I moved to just behind the door, waiting to see who would be hapless enough to walk directly into a beast’s lair.
I gathered her scent even before she walked in, her long dark hair shimmering in the limited glow of the flashlight. When she didn’t see me, she physically sagged, but her pup was quick to realize where I was hiding.
This time, I closed the door behind her, not wanting us to be interrupted by anyone.
Spinning around to face me, she took several shallow breaths and almost lost her footing. I grabbed her arm, pulling her close, using just enough force she was required to place her hand on my chest just as she’d done before.
The effect was the same, a wildfire of need tearing through my system. She had the same duffle bag and in my mind, she was even more beautiful. I kept her close, drinking in the experience of being in her presence.
Her breathing was ragged, her entire body shaking, not as much from nerves as from the same nagging desire that had nearly consumed me all day.
“Hi,” she said, the fire in her eyes from disrespecting her required behavior lingering even as the uncertainty about how to handle the situation began to crowd in.
While she didn’t try to pull away, I sensed how uncomfortable she’d become so I let her go.
She rubbed her hand on her jeans before nodding and easing onto her knees, her hand trembling as she pulled the zipper and reached inside. I remained where I was, curious as to what she’d brought.
When she pulled out a small blanket, smoothing it across the dirt floor then proceeded to provide a little feast of food and drink, I was floored. After she was finished, she poured some water into a plastic bowl for the pup and sat cross-legged. She even positioned the beam of the flashlight just so, keeping it away from the direction of the window and creating a slight ambiance.
The girl was as smart as she was beautiful.
Whoever her father was, and my guess was the man who owned the vineyard, she’d been taught various skills that weren’t typical for a teenager.
A few seconds later, she tossed me a look of clear annoyance, the twinkle in them unmistakable even with the dullness of the light.
“Mmmm…” she started, carefully choosing her words. “Ya ne kusayus’.”
I won’t bite.
She was trying hard not to butcher my native language, but whoever her teacher had been, Russian had been something learned from a textbook. The invitation was too delicious to pass up. She’d even brought a small bottle of wine. Was she kidding me? She poured a glass, cocking her pretty head when I hesitated taking it from her.
The taste was heavenly, more so than I should allow myself. If she was caught, I could only imagine what would be done to her. Even a princess was punished. I knew what would happen to me, but it was worth the risk.
“Ya ne kusayus’.” I repeated the words very slowly, and once more when she realized what I was doing. From there, she tried it again, laughing at herself for using the wrong intonations. But she continued until she finally sounded Russian.
“Tell me something else,” she said, lifting her eyebrows in hopes that I understood. She pointed to her dog.
