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“Nikolai!” Ivan roars, standing at the top of the hill, two long wooden sticks under his arms to use as support. It’s only then that I realize his right leg is broken. In fact, my entire body is starting to ache in places I didn’t know I could feel pain as I start to walk toward him.
“I’m fine,” I reassure him, but my smile fades when I see his grim face. “The others?”
“Fourteen dead,” Ivan replies, and nods at Fedot’s lifeless body. “Fifteen if you count him.”
“Sixteen if Igor doesn’t make it,” I mutter, and close my eyes for a moment.
I inhale deeply, needing to ground myself.
This isn’t over. As far as we know, all of the Gargarins are still very much alive and set on revenge.
“We should take care of our dead,” Ivan says, getting my full attention. “And then we should go home to reassess.”
“Yes,” I confirm. “Let’s do that.”
FORTY-TWO
KATARINA
“Do you think he’s okay?” I ask Olga.
The housekeeper has been keeping me company ever since I returned home. It’s funny. I don’t even know when I started to think about Nikolai’s house as home, and yet, here I am. I’m more at ease here than with my own family.
“Mr. Volkov always comes back whole,” she assures me in her heavy Russian accent. “He’ll do the same tonight.” She glances at my belly and smiles. “Especially since you’ve given him so many reasons to.”
I return her smile. “Will you tell me about him?”
“Let me get us tea first. It’ll help you relax while we wait.”
She comes back with chamomile tea and sugar cookies. As we’re enjoying the treat, she tells me stories about Nikolai’s childhood. She talks about his boyish pranks with Ivan and their wild teenage phase of experimenting with alcohol and chasing after girls. It’s when she mentions Vasily that my ears prick up.
“Who’s that?” I ask her, raising my brow in question as I take another bite of cookie.
“Mr. Volkov’s older brother,” Olga replies, her own brows furrowing in confusion. “Did he not tell you about his family?”
“Only bits and pieces,” I admit, realizing how little I know about Nikolai. “I know he has a sister.”
“Katya,” Olga confirms with a fond smile. “She’s a lawyer in Moscow. Last I heard, she set her eyes on being a judge and was working her way up the ladder.”
“What about Vasily?” I inquire, still surprised that Nikolai has an older brother.
“He also lives in Moscow,” Olga tells me. “His work is of a confidential nature. All I know is that he’s a high-ranking member of Russia’s secret service.”
I snort, making an unladylike sound. Olga’s lips twitch in amusement. She’s also aware of the irony behind the careers the three siblings have chosen. Vasily has legal permission to kill, while Katya’s work is about putting criminals behind bars. Nikolai, on the other hand, has no permission to kill, but still does it. He makes his own laws, which I imagine his sister isn’t too happy about.
“They don’t get along?” I ask.
“Ah, it’s that obvious?” Olga smiles. “Nikolai and Vasily rarely see eye to eye. I’ve not seen them talk to each other in the last ten years. But it looks like things have changed.”
“What do you mean?”
“The men that have arrived,” she says, talking about the group that escorted Nikolai. “They’ve been sent by Vasily.”
As I’m racking my brain for explanations, we are interrupted by the front door opening. It’s not a pleasant sound. Instead, it resonates as if the building itself doesn’t like the intrusion. Footsteps come toward us, and soon, we’re joined by a blood-covered Nikolai.
I jerk to my feet, tears pooling in my eyes. The sight of him brings forth every terrible scenario that’s been going through my head since he left. His hair’s sticking out in all directions, there’s dried blood on his cheeks, a large gash on his forehead.
“Olga, go and prepare a bath for Nikolai,” I tell her as gently as I can, knowing she’ll linger if I don’t send her out. She nods, and before leaving, glances at Nikolai again as if to confirm he’s okay.
