Seva freezes, his blue eyes tinted gold by the nightlight as he takes me in from up close.
“What?” I stutter out, shivering when he cups my face with bloodstained hands.
“You are so damn beautiful when you cry,” he rasps, leaning forward to taste my tears. “Come here.”
I’m still struggling to speak, but touch is a language I can handle. I move like a puppet pulled by strings Seva holds, and I climb into his lap, safe when I wrap my arms around his neck. “Who was that?” I whisper, not even bothered by the blood smeared on me, because it means the attacker is dead, and I am very much alive.
Seva kisses my damp cheek, sliding his arms around me, until I’m cradled against his chest, utterly safe. “No one. He doesn’t matter.”
“Was he alone?”
“He was. It’s just us now.”
I settle into the embrace as it hits me. Seva said the assassin must have thought this washisbedroom. “Oh God… You’re in danger.” It’s more of a statement than a question. This fucker could have killed Seva. All his talent, all his beauty, all his laughter and kisses could have been extinguished. I can’t bear even thinking about it.
Seva laughs, as if this was just another Tuesday for him. “Well, yes, I told you I have assassins coming after me. Did you still not believe me?”
“It just… didn’t feel real until now.” It still doesn’t. But I’m sure that when I open my eyes and see the headless body again, it will.
Seva exhales, hugging me even more firmly, until all I can sense is the scent of paint that always clings to him. “I’m sorry I let this happen. I got distracted.”
“We… we need to make sure it doesn’t happen. What do you need me to do? How do we handle this?” I’m babbling, but I need to dosomething. I can’t just sit here when there are people trying tokillSeva.
He shrugs. “I’ll need to get rid of the body and clean up eventually, but that’s okay, I won’t let anything happen to you.”
“I can help. Just tell me what to do.” Do I want to deal with human blood and guts? Of course not. But will I do what Seva needs? Yes. He saved my life.
His brows lift. “You are quite shaken. Are you sure you wouldn’t rather cozy up with Ratimir? We can move you to a different bedroom.”
“No. Don’t leave me alone,” I beg, because that seems so much worse than disposing of a body. I’m way in over my head, but I know this much. I don’t want to be apart from him right now. “I worked at a funeral home, remember? I can handle this. Let me help. Please.”
Sevastyan chews on his lip, but after watching me for long seconds, he kisses my forehead and sighs, “All right. But you will tell me if you’d rather rest. Deal?”
Relief floods my body, and I rest my head on Seva’s shoulder, finally calm. “I will.”
Chapter 15
Victor
Iexpectedwaymoreissues with the body disposal, but Seva has it all figured out. We folded the body into one of those big plastic storage containers and used a hand truck to move the corpse to the other side of the house. He then moved one of the bookshelves, revealing a hatch that swallowed the man who almost took my life. Sevastyan didn’t explain where the hidden chute leads to, and I didn’t ask, but the whole process was quick and efficient in a way I should find alarming. Instead, I silently applauded my man’s ingenuity.
The cleanup of my room proved a much more grueling task, even with the equipment Seva stores for situations like this one. I wanted to help, I really did, but Seva had me lie on the bed and ‘keep him company’ while he mopped up all the bodily fluids, tossed fabrics into a washing basket, and cleaned every surface with a sharp-smelling product. He even used a UV lamp to check for any spots he might have missed, and while he claimed the room would need a second round of polishing tomorrow, to my naked eye everything looked pristine.
Almost eerily so, considering that barely an hour prior, a man lost his head and all the blood in his body in the floorspace between the door and the bed.
Once he was done, everything that had come in contact with the dead body got shipped off to a ‘decontamination space’ hidden behind a different bookshelf. Only then did we get to enjoy a soothingly warm shower where Seva took care to brush under my nails in case I had any blood there. A part of me feared this would be the moment he’d leave me in yet another room that locks from outside, but he glanced at me with water dripping from his pale locks onto his forehead, and asked, “Do you also need a drink?”
So here we are, on the floor between the kitchen counters. I’m wearing Seva’s clothes, which are way too large on me, but it’s cozy. As though he really is my boyfriend and I’m here after a sleepover that categorically did not involve disposing of a body together. He pours us vodka from a bottle marked with Russian letters I couldn’t even dream of reading.
He’s so warm.
I know the shock of the attack might still hit me with full force, but as I rest my head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart, I feel safer than I’ve ever been. What could possibly touch me under the protection of a man who cut someone’s head off with a wire to save me?
Seva puts down the bottle of vodka and places one of the glasses in my hand. “Good job.”
“I didn’t do enough, really. Maybe I can help with the second clean tomorrow.”
“You sure want to go in so deep?” he asks, pulling me closer as he takes a sip of the liquor. I follow his lead, but the alcohol hits me so hard my eyes water.
