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Eden gasps, her hands flying to her mouth. Unexpectedly, she closes the distance between us, reaches out, and takes my hand in hers, ignoring the soot and the cuts. “You’re hurt.”
“I’ll be all right.” I nod slowly, puzzled by her reaction.
She’s acting like she cares about my life. A dark thought enters my head. No, she doesn’t care about my life. She cares about getting out of here, and she can’t do that if I’m dead.
“And Larissa?”
“She’s shaken, but okay.” I notice that she doesn’t pull her hand away when I answer.
Her gaze shifts to my scorched shoes, and her brow furrows in concern. “Are you sure?” she asks.
“I’m fine,” I whisper. I hold onto her hand tightly. I need to touch someone right now, but not in anger. Anger is safe. It’s familiar. But now, I need any other emotion except anger.
Eden stares at my hand, and a spark of sadness flashes in her hazel eyes. “I’m sorry.”
Her father was always a very accomplished bomb maker.
I stare at her. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
She bites her lip. “I’m sorry that it happened.”
I nod. I guess I knew what she meant, but I’m not used to hearing people say they’re sorry unless they’re begging for mercy. I look at the book on the ground that she’s been reading. The page is opened to a painting of a ghostly cypress trees stretching up into the sky. I take my toe and close it. That picture looks too much like smoke.
“Rurik was there,” I tell her, pulling off my jacket. “He was there with Larissa.”
Eden nods as if she understands what I’m trying to say. I stare blindly at the drape pulled across the window. Something terrible just happened to me, but I do not want to face it alone. I will face it later. I stare blindly at the floor in a trance and recall Larissa holding Rurik tight as he kissed her smoky hair over and over again.
A sudden pang of emptiness seizes me at the thought, and all I can hear in my head is Izzie pleading with me not to leave her behind as she was dying. But as I stare at my own shadowy reflection in the massive window, it’s not Izzie’s face that swims into view.
It’s Eden’s.
And suddenly, a familiar vise tightens around my lungs again, squeezing all breath out of me.
Something shifts next to me, and it takes me a moment before I realize it’s Eden. She moves closer to me and rests her hand lightly on my arm, standing beside me in silence. I feel comforted by her presence. For a few heartbeats, we stay like that, both of us lost in our own thoughts until she finally pulls away gently and takes a step back.
“Can I do anything?” she asks. “Do you need help cleaning up?”
My mind clears, and I focus on her. This woman’s father is a traitor, and most likely the one behind the bombing. Her sad looks are no comfort to me when there are people out there who want me dead.
Which means I cannot open my heart to her, even if I want to.
So, I steel my emotions and rearrange my face into an inscrutable mask.
“You are to do everything without question,” I tell her. “You see what happened to me,princess. This is not a game. Understand?”
She swallows hard and stares at me, then looks away. I expect fear to reappear in her eyes, but it doesn’t. Silently, she nods before taking another step back. But I grip her arm, pulling her back around to face me. My lips are inches away from hers. But the fear in her eyes never returns.
Instead, there is only that fierce determination as she whispers, “It’s not my fault people want to kill you, Nikolai.”
My grip on her arm tightens, but she betrays no hint of pain. Finally, I release her from my grip.
“I have business to attend to. Go upstairs.” My voice drips with venom. “This time, I won’t be around to grab you off the rooftop.”
Eden glares at me. Familiar hate flashes back into her eyes, and she gives me the finger before she turns to flee upstairs.
23
NIKOLAI
