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I frown. “Excuse me?”
“That’s literally it. He’s been in a few times. And that isallhe ever wants to talk about: Kir Nikolayev.”
“WhataboutKir?”
Mia shrugs. “Anything. Like, anything I can remember about working for him. Where I remember him traveling to. He wasreallycurious to know if he’d ever been to Norway. Something about a Link family?”
I stiffen. “Excuse me?”
“Link-something. It was super Norwegian sounding. Link-mist…Link-twist…”
“Lindqvist?”
Her face lights up. “That was it!” She sighs. “But I have no idea who the fuck that is, and I told him as much.” Mia glances over to a lively table of Japanese salesman in suits. “Look, as fun as this has been, I really do need to work, okay?”
I nod, my head spinning as I glance at her. “Sure.” I frown. “Thanks, Mia.”
I turn and head out, almost more confused than I was when I walked in.
“Freya—wait.”
Mia is stepping out the front door after me. She bites her lip, clearly conflicted before she finally speaks.
“Look, for what it’s worth, Mal didn’t ‘want me’, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
I frown, feeling my face flush. “What?”
“You like this guy, yeah?”
My cheeks burn hotter. “I never said that.”
She smirks, rolling her eyes. “Right. Well, trust me—I know men, and when they want me. Him?” She shakes her head. “He didn’t. Take that how you will.”
I don’t know how to respond to that, so I just give her a small smile. Mia gives me one last look before slipping back into the club, leaving me standing outside, my mind racing.
28
MAL
I leanagainst the side of the house as the line of motorcycles roar down the driveway to the main gate. My jaw grinds as I watch the taillights of Freya’s bike, following Tak, Hana, and Annika as they head out for an evening joyride through the hills surrounding Kyoto.
I was out here when they suited up. When Hana asked if I was joining, I glanced at Freya, who was carefully ignoring me, and then turned back to tell my cousin, no, not this time.
It’s been like this since that night she came to my guesthouse. The night where I took off the reins and forgot about the brakes.
I won’t say she saw myfullmonster that night. No one sees that unless I’m about to kill them.
Slowly. Methodically.
But she got fucking close. Closer than anyone ever has before. And she didn’t just see the monster, either. Sheenjoyed it. She begged for it. She urged me on, wanting more of it.
I don’t need a psychiatric assessment to know that I amprofoundlyfucked in the head. Watching your family, your home, and your whole world get torn to shreds and burned alive as a child has a way of setting you down a not-so-normal path. Being ripped from those ashes and thrust into the claws of a Nazi psychopath hell bent on twisting you and others into his personal army of hate doesn’t exactly help, either.
Killing your grandfather in cold blood at the age of eleven probably seals the deal.
Andthatis the blackness inside me that Freya got a peek at the other night.
Then she ran, and she hasn’t come back or even looked at me since.
