Eventually, he passes out and I get some peace and quiet.
I slouch over to my chair once more and tip my head to stare at the ceiling.
“This is a scene worthy of a portrait.”
“Fuck off, Misha. I’m thinking.”
“I know. It’s hard.”
“Why haven’t I killed you yet?”
“Because it would mean all the times you saved my life would have been for nothing. Of course, the number of times I’ve saved yours, too, were a waste of energy… ungrateful fucker.”
I laugh at a damp patch on the ceiling.
“What are you thinking about?”
“The future.”
“Why?”
“Do you know who I saw at last night’s banquet?”
“God?”
I snort and rock my head forward to grin at him. “Moron.”
He shrugs. “Jesus?”
“How about the Holy Trinity?”
“Nah, that’d be overkill. The Veronians justthinkthey’re gods.”
The bitch of it is, as much as this society irritates me with its rules and moronic ways of working, its power is undeniable.
“Agreed… The president included.”
“We knew Devere attended Oakwood and that he was in the frat.”
“Doesn’t it make you wonder?”
“About how Russia’s vilified in the press for revoking the public’s freedoms but the US president is rubbing shoulders with the brothers of a secret society that most haven’t even heard of? Working back-channel deals and making political moves that Congress will never hear whispers of unless they’re at the same banquets? Yeah. I have nightmares about it all the time.”
“What did Nikolai tell you about sarcasm?”
“That you were too dumb to pick up on my jokes and to play nice. Until, at least, you shave off that pornstar tash.”
I flip him the bird.
“Okay, I’ll bite. What does it make you wonder?”
“If the O’Donnellys can actually do it. If they can get a child into the Oval Office.”
“You hate that kid.”
“And?”
“Going to cozy up to him so you can whisper in his ear?” Misha taunts.
