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Declan marched into the room, took one look, and burst out laughing. “For fuck’s sake, Pakhan.”

“It was convenient. You can talk to Maksim about his proclivity toward keeping paperweights shaped like ball gags around.” I frogmarched my prisoner toward Declan. “See that he’s given my best accommodations.”

“Yes, Pakhan.” All traces of humor vanished. Declan whipped out a pair of cuffs and made sure the man was properly secured.

My radio crackled, Roman’s voice coming through. “Kirill, we need to meet.”

“Agreed.” I folded the map and headed toward the central corridor while my men took the prisoner the opposite direction. Broken glass littered one section of the hallway. Blood streaked another. Someone had punched enough rounds through one imported door that Maksim was going to complain.

Roman came through the lower junction with a long tear in the sleeve of his jacket. He took in the blood on my clothes and grunted. “I take it you were successful.”

“I caught one running from the fight.” I handed him the floor plan. “He had that in his pocket. Tried to chomp when I found it. Managed to stop him. Thanks for the intel.”

He grunted again and reached into his pocket. “My guy had this.” A black fob with a silver band flashed.

“Fuck.”

“My reaction as well.” He curled his fingers over the fob.

We stepped into an empty side room and closed the door. He gave me a quick rundown of his situation, then I did the same.

“There’s one more thing,” Roman said with a low growl in his voice. “Sokolov arranged for Anika to be placed on the auction block.”

I flashed back to her fighting that fucking chair, the terror she’d tried to bury under insults, and the way she’d looked at me when I found Nora’s photo. She’d been ready to claw through all three of us to get back to her daughter.

We’d done plenty to Anika ourselves, and I wasn’t stupid enough to forget that simply because I’d kissed her in the garden. But someone had deliberately put her in our hands knowing exactly what we believed she’d done. “Why?”

“Dead men are notoriously bad at follow-up.”

I barely heard him. My anger had changed again, dropping out of the bright, gleeful place violence lived and settling on the other side of glacier.

A knock sounded, and one of the security men opened the door. “Pakhans, the woman at the gate is gone. She left this.” He held out a slim black phone. “It’s been scanned per protocol. Typical burner phone with no contacts or information. Looks brand new.”

I took the phone and unlocked the screen. It rang, an unfamiliar string of numbers showing. I answered with a slide of my thumb and waited.

A feminine laugh came out. “You boys really are predictable. I’m sending you a picture. Show it to Anika. Tell her what you did after the masquerade.” The call ended, taking Alina with it.

The phone beeped, and an image popped up in a text from the same number.

Roman cursed beside me as the image appeared. In it, the three of us stood in full tactical gear, including balaclavas that covered our faces. We towered over a man on the ground. A very dead man.

12

ANIKA

Nobody warned me that surviving an armed attack involved this much sitting around. Nora had wedged herself against my side with her tablet balanced across both our legs. Miss Helen munched a bag of pretzels she’d pulled out of a carpet bag I’d had more questions about than I cared to admit.

Maksim spent all his time near the reinforced door listening to the occasional updates coming in through his radio. He didn’t translate the chatter unless I asked, which I didn’t think I could do too often with Nora listening to our every word.

Nora dressed a cartoon cat in what appeared to be every item the game offered. The poor thing had on rain boots, a princess dress, a pirate hat with a tiara on top and wings that flapped every time Nora touched the screen. “She needs a necklace.”

“She needs an intervention.” I kissed the top of Nora’s head while she giggled, the familiar strawberry smell of her shampoo doing more for my nerves than reinforced walls. “Maybe some pants.”

“But she’s wearing a dress.” Nora frowned and tapped, scrolling through the pants. “Pink pants.”

A notification slid across the top of the tablet. Auntie Lina.

“Auntie!” Nora wiggled and tapped the notification.