Page 73 of The Beast of Moscow

A laugh creeped its way out, but it was too light and easy to be dark. It even shocked him as he scrubbed a palm over his own mouth to wipe away what stains might be there. “Calling me any name but my own is either a challenge or a slight, and both will be enough to provoke a response, kisska.”

She sucked in another one of those shaky breaths.

Vaslav would have told Vera right then and there that she was in for a world of trouble with him if she kept on pushing him like she did, but the clock struck ten.

And the tower started to sparkle.

Or rather, the lights did. Every hour on the hour, the Eiffel Tower’s lights would sparkle for five minutes. He hadn’t even had the chance to admire the way she licked her swollen lips for another taste of his kiss when his head snapped up at the flashing lights.

He’d never had the issue before—lights triggered his migraine pain sometimes, yes, but not that sudden stiffness in his neck and confusion muddling his mind. It was almost like his vision started to quake, and with it came a burst of scattered pain that started in the base of his skull. It was the overwhelming pressure that made his temples feel like they might explode that accompanied a heavy weight swaying Vaslav’s shoulders, making his loss of control all the more apparent.

It happened faster than that day at The Swan House. He couldn’t slink away to hide what was quickly coming on.

You’re having seizures, he remembered the doctor explaining to him that night, opting after to call it simply a neurological event when he realized Vaslav wasn’t open to labeling a terrifying, new symptom he’d been trying to keep hidden.

“Vas!” he heard Vera yell.

“No hospitals,” he grunted, the Russian sharp and bitter on his tongue.

Or maybe that bitterness was blood.

When did he hit the ground?

22.

“Oh, my God, Vas—somebody help me!”

Vera screamed the words, and no sooner did they pass her lips than a man kneeled beside her.

“Here, I’ll help you get him up on his side,” the man grunted in heavily accented English as he placed his hands to Vas’s trembling lower back. “My oldest son has epilepsy. He’s a tall guy, too, and sometimes you just need an extra pair of hands. Shit, did he bite his tongue?”

Vera, too shocked to do anything let alone talk or reply to the kind tone of the friendly man, helped him roll a shaking Vaslav to his side. The seizure looked a lot like the one that had happened in the gallery—between Vas’s wild, rolling eyes and his unstoppable trembling, she thought he still managed to maintain some sense of awareness. But not any control.

She noticed the tiny trickle of blood that fell from the corner of Vaslav’s mouth, mixed in with his saliva.

“It’s not too bad.” Noticing her silence and fast breaths, the blond man who had stepped into help asked, “Does this happen often?”

God.

She didn’t know.

She opted to say something that didn’t feel like a lie. “It’s happened before.”

The man nodded. “As long as it doesn’t last longer than two minutes, and he starts to gain some awareness, we won’t have to call for emergency services. Okay?”

Vera, now fighting through hiccups and the shame of a tear-streaked face while a small crowd gathered, only nodded back in reply. She fought hiccups to hide her rising sobs. It all happened so fast. From his kiss to the lights, and she saw the dazed look in Vaslav’s eyes just before he squinted back in pain and started to sway. She had fallen with him, trying to catch a brick wall of a man, and the throbbing ache in her bad ankle let her know which leg had taken the brunt of the impact.

“I’m Natan,” the man said.

“Vera, oh God! What happened?”

Hannah.

Vera was still trying to process the last minute—and a half?—and in that time, forgot about her friend. Wasn’t that just her luck?

Hannah was quick to grab Vera’s clutch that had fallen a few feet away, and dropped beside her, asking only, “Can I help?”

Vaslav’s trembling has become a lot less intense, and focused mostly on the end of his limbs and a bit in his neck. But at the same time, his once open eyes were now squeezed tightly shut, and his teeth clenched so hard she could hear them grinding.