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The tape crackles with the sound of hisses and spits. Definitely a fire, though I knew that already. Jared’s body was covered in burns when he was found.
“Time to fulfill that vow.”
The report of the gun makes me scream.
I clap a hand over my mouth as my eyes fly to Dmitri. It feels like this is all happening in the present. For me, in a way, I suppose it is.
Dmitri leans forward once more and switches off the recorder. The silence that follows is oppressive after the chaos of that recording. If only I could switch my mind off so I don’t have to replay it again and again…
And again…
And again…
“I know that was hard for you to hear. And I understand that you hate me right now. But I spent so long trying to track down the man who killed Elena. When I finally found him, I wasn’t capable of acting rationally. Or compassionately. All I wanted was to do to him what he did to me.”
I blink, pushing the tears out of my eyes. I feel strange. Like I might break apart, limb by limb. The only thing that keeps me chained to reality is the soft fluttering inside my belly.
Dmitri stands and I flinch away from him despite the fact that he’s several feet away from me. “I never meant to hurt you, Wren. For what it’s worth, I am sorry.”
Then he leaves.
I hear the door close behind him and when I look up, he’s gone. So is the recorder. I tuck my feet up, put my head down, and curl up on the sofa with my face pressed into the cushion so I don’t have to see anything but black.
My tears soak the pillows beneath me.
I close my eyes and pray for oblivion.
62
DMITRI
“Dmitri?”
I lift my head and find Bee standing on the threshold of my office door, the whites of her eyes bright against the darkness.
“What do you want?”
“I just want to make sure you’re okay,” she explains gently. “Can I put a light on? It feels like Dracula’s lair in here.”
Before I can answer, she starts to reach for the switch. “Don’t,” I snarl. “Leave it.”
I’ve had enough time to adjust to the darkness. The thin ray of moonlight streaming in from the gap in the blinds is more than sufficient for me.
The outline of her arm freezes in midair. After a pause, she withdraws it and crosses the room to sit on the couch, far closer to me than I would’ve preferred.
“How are you?” she asks.
“Stupid question.”
Usually, any snappiness on my part unleashes the corresponding bitch in Bee. But tonight, she doesn’t allow me to trigger her. “You’re right. That was a stupid question.” She gives my leg a pat. “I’m sorry, Dmitri. That must have been a hard thing to discuss.”
“Those pictures…” I growl. “There’s only one person who could have sent them.”
“You can deal with that tomorrow,” Bee insists. “You don’t have to?—”
“I made a mistake in letting the Irish scum multiply,” I interrupt viciously. It’s the first time I’ve spoken in hours, so my voice is hoarse and jagged. “I should have snuffed them all out with their don. I cut off Cathal’s head, only for Cian to take his place.”
“Cian is manageable?—”
