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In that way, he and Cora are perfect for each other. Neither of them can take care of themselves. Neither of them knows how to survive.
Not the way I do.
“Well?” I press.
“What do you know?” he asks with a sigh.
I laugh. “It’s cute that you think I’d tell you on the phone. Before I say a word, I need some assurances from you. Frombothof you.”
There’s another pause before Alexander speaks, confirming my theory that he’s been listening. “I’ve taken too many chances on you, Francia. Will this one pay off?”
“That depends. How much do you think the location of Katerina Sokolov is worth?”
There’s what I have to presume is stunned silence on the other end of the line.
“We’ll meet in an hour,” Alexander says. “This is your last shot, Francia.”
I smile. “That’s all I need.”
43
CORA
Jorden starts talking to me before the patio door can even close behind her.
“I think Niles puts something illegal in this lemonade.” She holds up her glass to the light and squints as she studies it. “Do you think it’s drugs?”
“Good morning to you, too.”
She gives me a quick wave and then swirls the drink with her stainless steel straw.
Apparently, being kidnapped is only novel for a day. Because it’s now day four of being home and I’m losing to a glass of lemonade.
“To answer your question, I don’t think Niles puts anything in it that shouldn’t be there. He’s too proper to drug people without asking first.”
“If that’s true and there are no drugs in here, then explain why I would be willing to barter my firstborn child to have one of these in my hand for the rest of time.”
“Maybe it’s the fresh fruit frozen in the ice cubes. That’s a nice touch.”
She wrinkles her nose. “Maybe. But since I’ll never know for sure, I’ll just have to come over here every single day and get a glass straight from the source.”
“And talk to your best friend.”
She lounges in the chair across from me and winks. “Obviously. You’re the real reason I’m here, Cora. The lemonade is a delicious perk.”
Lies.She and I both know Jorden isn’t here for me. She isn’t here for the lemonade, either. She is all about one blonde, right-hand man.
Whenever Yasha is in the room, it’s like no one else exists. I’ve taken to slipping silently away whenever they happen upon each other and can’t help but gaze into each other’s eyes like they’re being hypnotized. I have it on good authority that they have been going at it like rabbits any chance they get. Ivan spilled the beans to me a couple days ago, after we participated in some rabbit-like activities of our own. Of course, we did that in our bedroom, not the linen closet next to the den.
“What’s with that look?” Jorden asks suddenly.
“What look?”
She circles a finger in the direction of my face. “That dopey smile.”
I dip my fingers in my ice water and flick some at her. “My face isn’t dopey.”
“Fine. What is with that blissful look of radiant joy on your incomparably beautiful face?”
