In which Alexi wraps up some loose ends.
Alexi…
Lucya is scrabbling desperately for a solid piece of ice, her mittenless fingers leaving streaks of blood on the frozen surface. Her eyes, those green eyes like sea glass on the beach are wide and terrified. She’s so little, why is she alone?
“Moy lyubimyy, my beloved, come back to me…
I’m holding your hand. I won’t let go. You come back to me now. We need you. It’s time for you to wake up.”
There’s pressure on my fingers, heat from a hand squeezing mine. God, I haven’t been warm since Nikolai pulled me from the water, and the feel of this fiery hand on my chilly skin spreads through my system, warming my feet and legs, my arms, face, and chest. I feel her body curved around me and I drag in a sigh of relief.
My Kolibri.
“There you are,” Lucya says, her voice thick with emotion. She’s wrapped every inch of herself around me, and it feels so good that I let out a groan of relief. “Am I hurting you?” She pulls back anxiously and I snake my arm around her waist, dragging her closer again.
“Stay right where you are.” My voice is rusty-sounding.
Her warm fingers go back to stroking my cheek, over the new scar gifted to me from Dmitri, may his soul rot in hell.
“Does this hurt?” she asks sadly.
“No more than anything else.” God, I sound ancient. Did I wake up in the next century? “What time…”
“You’re asking what time it is? You’ve been unconscious for twenty-four hours,” she says, “I had to threaten Nikolai with violence to go get some rest. Damien is just outside the door. I don’t think this hospital will ever recover from your visit.”
“Would that be because of me, or because of you?” I manage, opening my eyes. She’s dimmed the lights, but I can see I’m attached to several machines, tubes snaking out of me.
“A little of both,” she admits, finally sounding more amused and less terrified. “There might have been some screaming, though I would like to point out that it was your brothers that threatened the surgeon’s life, not me.”
“Highly motivating, I’m sure,” I agree, watching her face. Even with dark circles of exhaustion under her eyes, nothing has ever been as beautiful as this woman.
“Who else survived?” she asks, spine stiffening and bracing for the worst.
“Artur and Samuil were hurt pretty badly, Sam’s still in the hospital.”
“I’m glad they’re alive,” she smooths my blanket. “Pytor?”
“No. I’m sorry. He didn’t make it. David was killed, too.”
I watch her face crumple before she sucks in a breath and keeps going, ‘Pytor started off by hating having to guard me.’
‘He cared about your safety, very much,’ I say.
‘I know,’ she smiled, hastily wiping away her tears. ‘He was a good man and he took his responsibility seriously. I think I was softening him up a bit, toward the end. Does he have a family we can help? I’d like to talk to them.’
‘He didn’t.’ I move slightly, ignoring the persistent drumbeat of pain in my chest. ‘He’d lost a daughter when she was in her twenties, cancer, I think. I knew he would give his life for you.’
‘I want to hold a proper funeral for him and David when we get back home,’ she says.
‘Of course.’
“Nikolai told me how he pulled you from the water,” she says. “The jet had already taken off when he started searching for you. The water was so cold that the doctor said it slowed down the bleeding, which saved your life. I thought you were dead…” Lucya stops for a moment. “Dmitri shot you so many times.”
“I’m sorry,” I say, squeezing her hand.
“Don’t be,” she says. “You came back to us.”
“Us?”
Taking my hand, she slips it between us, resting it on her stomach. “Us. Me, and your child.”
I never knew how much I wanted a child with her until this moment. “You’re sure?” I ask hoarsely.
“Yes, my mother got me a test when I was dragged back here and she kept our secret.” She puts her hand over mine. “The doctors here gave me a blood test, I’m about six weeks along. They wanted to give me an ultrasound, but I refused until you could be there with me.”
“A baby…” I say, “yours and mine.”
“At the wedding,” she begins quietly, “I had a knife and a vial of poison under my wedding dress. I was going to kill him when we were alone. No matter what else happened after that, I knew our baby would be safe from him.”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t come sooner,” I croak, trying to clear my throat.
“Are you trying to shut down any unseemly emotion?” Lucya asks with a little grin.
“I’m the Angel of Death. I don’t feel emotion,” I reproach her.
“Of course,” she agrees, curling closer against my side.
Later that night, when she’s asleep in the recliner next to my bed, Nikolai turns off the alarms on all the machinery clogging up my bedside and helps me up.
Turning to me in the hall, he frowns. “Are you sure? Let me handle this for you.”
“It’s my responsibility to remove any threat to Lucya’s life,” I say. “Show me where they are.”
My demons roam free, whispering under my skin and filling my lungs with fire. I’ll let them play. Just for a while.
We start with the room at the end of the hall. Rurik is unconscious, mouth open, and a bloody gash across his forehead. No one has bothered to clean him up, just kept him alive.
Screwing the silencer on my pistol, I kick his bed. “Wake up.”
The old bastard does, eyes wide with terror and cringing away from me. “I- I had no choice, Alexi Turgenev! You must understand that your brother, he forced me.”
I pistol whip him across the face, sending teeth flying from his lying mouth. “I watched all the videos The Butcher saved. He has quite a repository of evidence. If he was caught, he didn’t intend on going down alone.”
The memory of cutting the Siderovs, father, and son into human chum makes me smile, a sight that makes Rurik recoil from me.
“It took a long time to get everything I needed from them,” I say pleasantly, “and even longer to cut them into pieces. I kept them alive for much longer than you might think possible after losing that many body parts. I enjoyed every. Single. Cut.”
Leaning closer, I can see my grin reflected in his dilated pupils. I do look unhinged. “I only wish that I had the time to do the same for you, but…” I check my watch. All the medical personnel knew better than to walk this floor tonight. “I am on a schedule. And in the end? You’re not worth my time.”
I fire the gun three times. His gut. His heart. And his head. Wiping the blood off on his hospital gown, I pull the sheet over his face and leave the room.
“One last visit from the Angel of Death?” Nikolai asks, leaning against the wall.
“Just one more,” I agree.
Inessa’s room is next to her uncle’s, and she must have put up quite a fuss about the wound in her shoulder, because she was handcuffed to her bedrail. She wakes up as I stand over her. She looks very little like Lucya, she takes more after their mother. It’s a shame she didn’t inherit Sasha’s kindness and courage.
“You can’t hurt me,” she’s trembling so much that her voice shakes. “Lucya will never forgive you.”
I pull her phone out of my pocket and select a video, tapping play. She’s smiling into her camera lens, fluffing her hair. “Oh, Dmitri. You would reject me for my sister? For Lucya? She’s a whore. Watch this.”
The video angle shifts to show Lucya pushing away a male stripper, who’s trying to keep his grip on her wrists with one hand while pulling on her dress with the other. Lucya manages to free herself, hitting him over the head with a champagne bottle.
When she’s left the room, Inessa screams at the man, apparently forgetting to stop the video. “I told you this was her fantasy, you fucking idiot! She wants to be raped! Why did you stop?”
He touches his head, his hand coming away wet with blood. “What the hell? She hit me! I don’t play like that. I thought you meant a little struggling, maybe tie her up! She could have killed me!”
Inessa’s mouth is moving soundlessly as she watches the video, no doubt manufacturing a litany of excuses and lies, but too terrified to speak.
“I would have killed that man for touching my wife, but it seems you had it done first. No loose ends, Inessa?”
“I didn’t- I never-” she wheezes in terror.
“You did.” I cut her off. “I may not have been able to protect her from your cruelty, but I will protect her from knowing what a monstrous piece of shit you are. I’ll tell her you died, wanting to say you were sorry for everything she suffered.”
The realization hits her just as the bullet does.
“Now, will you go back to your room and let me clean this mess up?” Nikolai’s still leaning in the same spot as if he’s the only thing holding up the hospital. “Lucya will make my life a living hell if she finds out that I helped you get out of bed.”
“I think that wraps up the loose ends,” I agree, wanting to pull my wife back into bed with me, knowing that she’s finally safe.
