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Chapter Eight
Ishieldedmyeyes against the day’s stabbing brilliance. The house had a decent number of windows, but aside from in Yana’s room, most of them didn’t get much sun. It would be a pleasant house for vampires, but a terrible one for cats.
Captivated, I watched the two men work. Despite the cold, they had both shed their shirts and were splitting and stacking firewood. It was a shame there were no other women here to appreciate the sight with. Even with the welts and bruises on Ilya, and the scars on Bron, they were definitely eye candy. If I’d had a phone with me, I would have taken some video to share with Lane when I saw her again.
Hopefully, she’d found a way to co-exist with Ajax and Calder, at least until the tour was done, but something told me they wouldn’t be content with never seeing her again. It had been about two weeks since Bron had stolen me from the beach. He’d assured me Lane knew I’d been offered a shit-ton of money to take the contract with them, but I was worried that she was worried, or that maybe he was lying and hadn’t made sure she was told.
And what about poor Clover? I hoped Bron was wrong, and she’d ended up with nicer men than the ones who’d chewed her up and spat her out during the first hunt.
I had tried helping Bron and Ilya with the firewood, but they’d shooed me away. Instead, I was alternating between sitting on a stump and wandering along the edge of the trees, picking up kindling and stacking it in the box they kept for it.
The garden’s greenery kept luring me near, and I examined the plants, not sure which were going to be vegetables and which were weeds. Nearby, penned goats and chickens did their thing, their noises keeping the silence from feeling weird or uncomfortable. It was odd spending so much time outside, but it was an interesting change from my regular, very indoorsy life.
“I can pile wood, too, you know,” I said again, when I’d gotten bored with investigating the garden and gone back to watching huge stumps get turned into firewood. They’d used the two-person saw to cut the logs earlier. That also would have ended up in my Russian men-of-the-year calendar, if I’d had a phone.
“Firewood is a man’s job. My wifey does not do my work,” Ilya said sternly, surprising me.
Wifey? Such a flirt.
“What’s wifey work?”
Bron raised a brow. “Cook. Give him pussy. Push out babies.”
Ilya shot Bron a quelling look, but Bron barked a laugh.
“I know you’re impatient to get your holes filled, woman, but there’s work to be done. Ilya can’t spend all day panting after you, or we’ll freeze and starve this winter.”
“What am I supposed to do while you’re busy?”
“Read a book? Daydream about dick?”
I daydreamed about their dicks far too much as it was, but I wasn’t about to admit that to Bron.
This was far easier money than working on the Island had been, but I was missing the action. After our movie night, Bron hadn’t approved of any sexual contact again. I’d fantasized about one, the other, or both sneaking into my room in the middle of the night and having their way with me, but it hadn’t happened. I’d gone walking around the house at night a few times when I was trying to sleep, only to hear the telling sounds of Bron using Ilya.
Why weren’t they using me for sex? Hell, they were paying for me to be here.
A dark shadow dove from a nearby tree, and I gasped as it alighted on the woodpile. Either the raven was huge, or I hadn’t seen one close up. Either way, Ilya’s comfort with its nearness freaked me out. Wasn’t he afraid it would peck out his eyeballs with its huge, curved beak?
“Where have you been, beauty?” Ilya chided. He stretched his arm out to the beast, and it hopped along the woodpile and onto his hand.
“Tell your girlfriend we have work to do.”
“You’re only jealous because she doesn’t like you.”
“Who wants to be friends with a big, ugly bird?”
“Probably the same type of person who spends their time with a big, ugly man.”
Bron chuckled and shook his head, as though he approved of the jibe rather than being offended by it. I’d watched my brothers interact that way, but the hierarchy was a lot stricter here.
“Look,” Ilya said, turning to show her to me. Her black feathers were lovely in the bright sunshine, but that beak made me want to guard my eyes.
“Yes, I see her,” I said uneasily, hoping he didn’t plan on introducing us.
“Did you bring me a gift, beauty?” He held out his hand. Sure enough, there was something shiny clutched in her beak that she dropped almost in his hand. He crouched down slowly and retrieved it, turning the item over in his palm.
“More garbage?” Bron grumbled.
“An old coin.”
Bron peered at the silver-toned coin in Ilya’s hand, leaning far closer to the bird than I would ever dare to.
“A trillion more of those and you might have enough to buy a box of nails.”
“Maybe it’s worth something to a collector.”
“Of course. Then you can forget about needing to win your father’s approval and simply live off the coins Verni brings you,” Bron said flatly. “You and your silly bird.”
“He’s jealous of your big brain, Verni. Don’t listen to the sour old goat.”
“Five years isn’t so much older than you, boy. It only feels that way.”
The bird eventually hopped down and picked at grubs in the garden.
About a half hour later, they stopped working and rinsed off in a bucket they kept nearby. It wasn’t warm out, but they’d both worked up a sweat. Menial labor looked good on them.
I tugged up the shoulder of my T-shirt. It had a wide neckline that kept sliding off.
When I glanced up, they were both watching.
“What?”
“Work is over,” Bron said.
“And?”
“I think it’s time for the boy’s next lesson.”
It took a moment to process what he’d said, but Ilya’s gaze focused on me. He looked hopefully to Bron, then back my way.
“Can I have her now?” Ilya said eagerly.
“If you can catch her—and if I don’t find her first.”
“What happens if you find her first?”
“I will use her myself, and you will wait another week to come.”
I didn’t like the glint in Ilya’s gaze. Had days of denial made him more aggressive?
“If I find her first, no more punishments at night?”
Bron tilted his head, considering. “I’ll give you two nights free of the belt.”
“Thank you, Bron.”
