AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I have no idea what I'm thinking; keeping my mouth shut is a damn good idea, but it's my eyes that close instead.
No. I need to know about Gavriil.
I just need someone to tell me that he is OK. Just one of the faces looking back at me could say he's alive. But none of them do.
"Gavriil. Please tell me if Gavriil is alive?"
"Nico." Knox Thayer says my name. Knox Thayer is leaning over me, holding my hand. The heir to the whole bloody city's underground is talking to me.
Heir!
My mind seems to be coming back together again. But why is Knox Thayer interested in me?
Me. The waste of space who can't even translate right.
If that doesn't confirm Gavriil is dead, nothing will, but I need to hear it.
Gavriil was my access to hot showers and cooked dinners. He was as close to a friend as anyone I know. He wasn't the greatest guy in the world, but he was good enough for me. Without him, I have no one. I don’t even have a job.
I grab at the woman's hand, but my hand is heavier and stiffer than the one trapped by Knox's. I don't know who she is, but she is speaking Russian and I feel more worthy speaking to her.
"How is Gavriil?"
Everyone looks at me blankly. I was aiming for Russian but even she is frowning.
"Do you speak Russian?" she asks me in Russian, to which I simply nod.
"Gavriil?" It doesn't matter what language I speak or who I address, they have to know his name. The fact no one answers is only confirming the worst.
"Gravel is alive," the strange young man says with a weak smile. "But he is in critical condition. Do you remember?"
"He was shot," I nod.
"Nico, what language are you speaking?" the Russian lady asks in Russian, then she switches to English to tell Knox and the younger guy that I'm not speaking Russian.
If she speaks English, then I'm not sure why anyone is speaking Russian at all. That's Gavriil’s language, not mine.
"Romanian." If I'm not speaking English or Russian, then my birth language is the only other one I know.
"I think he said Romanian?" Russian lady shrugs at Knox. "I'm sorry, you need a different translator."
"Oh," I make a weak attempt at raising my hand. "I translator."
"There we are," Knox grins. It's very unnerving. Why is the great Knox Thayer talking to me?
"What is on?" Oops, I missed a word there. "Going."
"What is ongoing?" the young man asks.
"Who are you?" I question bravely. These people are all far more important than me. They have houses and everything posh.
"I'm Porter. Don't you remember me?"
Should I remember him?
It comes to me after a moment of blinking at him. I don’t remember him as such. I remember my mum's killer all bloody and ready for beating. Of course I didn't get to touch him.
"Stabby stabby."
