Page 106 of Gilded in Blood

“Your tickets to New York.” Kirill reaches into his wallet. “I’ll pay you for them.”

The woman blinks. “You… want to buy our tickets?”

“Yes.”

“I’m afraid that’s not possible,” the man says with an apologetic smile. “We’re flying home.”

“I understand.” Kirill pulls out a thick stack of bills. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

The man’s smile fades. “No.”

“It’s important.”

“I’m sorry, son, but no amount of money is worth being stranded in a foreign country.”

Kirill’s expression hardens. The warmth disappears from his face so quickly it almost startles me.

“Listen carefully.” His voice isn’t loud. If anything, it’s quieter. Calmer. “I need those tickets.”

The couple stare at him. The old man clears his throat. “I already said no.”

Kirill takes one small step closer. “I wasn’t asking.”

A chill runs down my spine. The elderly woman’s fingers tighten around the boarding passes.

“I don’t want to frighten either of you,” Kirill says evenly. “But my patience is running out.”

The man’s face pales. The woman looks at her husband. He swallows hard. Slowly, with trembling fingers, she holds out the boarding passes.

Kirill takes them. Then he counts out several thick bundles of cash and places them in the man’s shaking hands.

The old man’s eyes widen. “This is…”

“It’s a lot more than your tickets are worth. You can take the next flight in a few hours.”

Neither of them speaks.

Kirill gives a single nod. “Thank you.”

He turns and walks back toward me as though nothing happened. He slips the boarding passes into his pocket before taking my hand.

“Let’s go.”

As we walk toward the departure gates, I glance back once.

The elderly couple are still standing exactly where we left them, staring at the money in disbelief.

I look back at Kirill. He’d gone from calm and polite to cold and intimidating without raising his voice once.

It’s unsettling how quickly he can switch. I squeeze his hand.

“How are we going to get through security with boarding passes that don’t have our names on them?”

He doesn’t even look worried. “Leave that to me.”

Kirill quietly exchanges a few words with one of the airline supervisors, someone who seems to recognize him. The man listens, glances discreetly at us, then nods.

A few minutes later, we stop near the boarding gate. The man walks over to the gate agent.