Page 61 of The Killer Card

“Got you, you little shit!”

Suddenly, I’m being hoisted almost off my feet by the hood of my sweatshirt, forced to look into the eyes of the estate’s head of security.

“Hey,” I draw out the word, forcing a grin when honestly, I might shit myself any second just from having to look at his face. He’s pale, about three hundred pounds of height and muscle, with a long, ugly scar bisecting his left eye- which is obviously blind- and his other pale blue eye, I am convinced, can see straight into my fucking soul. “Nice to see as always, Andrei—”

“Shut up,” he growls, holding out a hand. “Give it up.”

“I have no idea what you’re talk- Oof!”

I groan, clutching at my stomach where his fist slammed into it, trying not to puke all over his shoes. He did not appreciate that last time.

He drags me close enough that spit hits my cheeks when he talks. “Don’t lie to me, Domovoy,” he snarls. “Give it here or I’ll drag you straight to your grandfather the moment he rises—”

“Okay, okay!” I reach into the pocket of my hoodie, holding out the switchblade he’d left lying around in the conservatory for anyone to find. “I wasn’t going to do anything with it, I swear—”

He lets me go, and I stumble back against the wall. “Of course you weren’t, Domovoy,” he snorts.

Flicking open the blade he brings it so close to my eye I can see only the pin point of the tip. A bead of sweat slides down my temple, my lungs burning as I hold my breath willing my body to stay perfectly. Fucking. Still.

“What would a little bitch like you do with a knife like this, huh? Use it to help Kira cut up your little fruits and vegetables?”

My eyes narrow but I still don’t dare move or make any sort of sound of protest since I do prefer my eyes in my face where they belong. Just as quickly as he cornered me, Andrei pulls the blade away, pocketing it.

He waves a hand down the hall. “Get out of my sight, Domovoy, before I decide to put your skills to better use.”

I flee his line of sight, nearly tripping around the corner. Hs deep, mocking laughter follows me all the way to the second-floor landing where I pause to catch my breath. Leaning my arms on the banister, I press my face against them forcing air in through my nose, out through my mouth.

“Fucking stupid ass son of a fucking whore—”

“You’re doing it again.”

“Jesus Christ,” I gasp, shooting up to standing. “Sonya. I didn’t know you were up.”

Not in, like, a creepy way- my sister might actually be the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen. After our mom, of course, but she looks just like her so that’s probably why. Her golden hair hangs down her back in perfectly controlled waves, her alabaster skin smooth as glass. She’s watching me with impassive, blue eyes, her arms crossed over what appears to be a new lavender dress- high, lace neck, twirlable skirts. By comparison, I look like I slept in the dumpster in tattered jeans, a worn old hoodie, and a pair of sneakers one size too small.

“What sort of trouble did you cause this time?”

Frowning, I shrug, crossing my arms to mirror her posture. “I was minding my own business. Andrei just likes to pick on me.”

Sonya raises a brow, looking me over from head to toe slowly enough to make me squirm. Then she rolls her eyes, walking past me toward the stairs. “You should go change. Grandfather will be ready to go soon, and he’ll be angry if you make him wait again.”

My brow furrows. “Wait for what?” I’m never invited to go anywhere.

She pauses on the stairs, rolling her pretty blue eyes. “Mass?”

Except church. I drop my head back on a groan. I’m always expected at church. It’s one of the only two consolations Grandfather ever makes to my leaving the property. Something about needing to save what remains of my soul?

After what happened with my car last summer, Grandfather shortened the stretch of my leash to only the end of the driveway unless he says otherwise.

“I’ll be down in ten minutes.”

Across the hall I hear a bedroom door open, my heart rate spiking when it’s followed by a gruff voice calling, “Kira, have my coffee made to go!”

“Better make it five,” Sonya warns me just before I dash down the hall toward the dusty tower stairs tucked behind the furthest door.

It… Is a really shitty room, but it’s mine and no one ever comes up here except Kira, who brings me soup when I’m sick and makes sure my mini fridge is fully stocked with all my favorite sodas. The entire room is circular- because tower- with two windows high enough that I couldn’t see out as a kid- or be spotted by passersby- but can clearly see out of now as I hurriedly change. My church suit is the nicest and newest thing I own. It’s the only item grandfather insists must always appear fresh and well made for me since Sunday is the only day I’m ever seen with him.

Quicker than I’ve ever moved in my life, I change my pants, button up my shirt, find my belt buried in my dresser, and am pulling on my shoes as I tumble back down the stairs. I’m still adjusting my jacket when I slide into the town car across from Grandfather and Sonya. And right next to Andrei.