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“Thanks,” I say, noticing this one is blueberry. “Did you eat?” I ask him.

He just nods, and I see how his glance gets serious when it shifts to the window before returning to the pan on the stove. As relaxed as he looks standing there, he’s a soldier. He’s most likely armed beneath the hoodie he’s wearing, and I have no doubt he’s deadly.

Just then, I remember what Lev said last night about Mrs. George. I know if we survive this, he will find her, and he will kill her.

If we survive this.

Shit.

It takes effort to eat my pancake at that thought, but when we finish, I tell Pasha I’ll wash the dishes while he goes out back to smoke and make a phone call.

When that’s done, I call out to Josh. “Let’s get you bathed and dressed, kiddo,” I tell him as a phone rings. The ringtone is foreign. I haven’t changed any of the factory settings like I had on my old one, so it takes me a moment to realize it’s my phone.

I go to it, see that there’s no caller ID, but I decide to answer anyway. It could be Lev. I’m not sure which numbers exactly he programmed into my contact list.

But when I answer, the caller hangs up.

Under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t think anything of it, but with everything that’s going on, it worries me.

I put the phone down as Josh comes into the kitchen. “When will we see Emma?”

“Emma?”

He nods, and I remember that we’d made casual plans to ice skate over the weekend.

“Well, honey, they’re still in Colorado so I don’t think we’ll be able to do that just yet.”

His face falls, and he tilts his head to the side like he doesn’t quite follow.

“They’d have to take a plane to get here, or we’d have to take one back.”

“Oh.”

“But when you see her, you’ll have to tell her all about your plane ride!”

He smiles wide. “Yay!”

My phone dings. This time it’s a text and I swipe the screen.

Lev: Sleep well?

Me: With you beside me, I always sleep well.

Lev: Good because I’m going to keep you up tonight.

Me: I hope so.

The sliding back door opens, and Pasha lets in a gust of cold air and the faint smell of cigarette smoke.

“I have to pick up a few things at the hardware store. That door’s going to give us trouble if I don’t. Can you be ready to go in a few minutes?”

“We’ll stay here. I have to bathe Josh anyway.”

He seems hesitant.

I put a hand on his arm. “I’m not going anywhere if that’s what you’re worried about.”

He studies me, and I smile.

“You have my word, Pasha.”

He nods reluctantly. “I’ll be gone for twenty minutes. Do not let anyone in. I have the code, and I’ll use the back door to enter. If anyone comes to either door, you don’t let them in. You don’t even go to the window. You pretend no one’s home, understand?”

“Yes. We’ll barely be done with the bath by the time you’re back anyway.”

Pasha says goodbye to Josh, and I watch him leave out of the front door. I listen to the locks click back into place as soon as he’s gone and turn to Josh.

“Ready for that bath?”

“Wally doesn’t want a bath today,” he says.

I pat his head. “Well, that’s fine for Wally, but you, mister, need one.”

Josh pouts but turns to head to the stairs.

I follow but detour as we pass the kitchen. I walk quickly to that drawer where I’d found the charger because I’d found something else there too. A pocketknife.

Opening it, I test the blade. It’s sharp. Sharper than most of mine and a little heavier.

And I feel just a little better about being alone here when I slide it into my pocket as I follow Josh up the stairs.

25

Lev

“Levka.” Vasily gestures for me to sit down as I walk into the empty club. “Care for a drink?”

He’s being unusually gracious, and I’m not sure what to make of his shift in mood. Considering the last time we spoke he could only tell me how disappointed he was, I am wary of accepting anything he has to offer. But to do so would be rude, so I simply nod.

He slides the bottle of vodka across the table, and I pluck an empty glass from the bar. Delirium isn’t open yet, and the building seems to magnify every sound as I pull out a barstool and sit beside him.

“Is everything taken care of with the mess at Andrei’s?” he asks.

“Of course.”

“Very good.”

I can’t tell what he’s thinking as he studies me, and I don’t know why he called me here. It is out of character for him to take so long to deliver an order. Vasily has always favored using as little of his time as possible in all endeavors, so for him to call me here without an apparent reason triggers my apprehension. Regardless, I use the opportunity to ask him the question that’s been burning in my mind since I left Andrei’s garage.

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