Page 39 of The Beast of Moscow

She was interesting.

“How come you stopped swimming in it?” she asked.

Because I went to prison.

Vaslav swallowed back that answer, shrugging a non-response instead. She didn’t seem bothered by it, and he continued walking on only to hear her footsteps padding on the grass behind him.

“Are you the one who cares for the lilac bushes out front—are you taking clones from the big ones, too?”

Vaslav nodded as she fell into stride beside him again. “Most of the time.”

His only real interests and hobbies revolved around his home and property; it wasn’t like he had the time, or patience, to find anything outside of it.

“It’s beautiful here,” she noted.

“A bit of a drive, though.”

As they trekked up the small hill until the house came into view once more, Vaslav glanced down to find Vera walking along just fine. If her ankle was giving her any trouble, she didn’t show it. He figured he’d done well not to ask about those things, or all the other information he had dug up on her since their first meeting.

Not without trying.

He had the strangest urge to ask her all the things—anything. Just to see if she might answer. She’d come there, after all, and while it had been less than an hour since her arrival, this was already coming to an end.

He considered asking her to stay for dinner as they came to a stop at the crest of the hill, but hesitated when she asked first, “You really only wanted to have me for tea?”

“And to say thank you.”

Vera didn’t ask for him to elaborate, and he was thankful. It wasn’t often the words thank you crossed his lips—they could be a curse as much as they were a gift. He’d never thanked a man that he ended up killing, but he figured the woman grinning up at him, simply because she was happy that he asked her if she’d like to walk the property, wasn’t quite the same.

“I can’t offer much more, but at least this,” Vaslav said, gesturing around them, “allowed me the chance to say thank you.”

“I tried to ask Feliks if you were okay after, but he proved to be less than useful. Not that it’s anything new for him.”

The mere mention of that man’s name was enough to send Vaslav’s blood pressure skyrocketing. He’d never done well at hiding his inner irritation, and the disgusted sound that escaped him gave more away than he intended.

“Glad to know I am not the only one who thinks the man is insufferable,” Vera muttered.

That caught Vaslav’s attention.

“Insufferable—he’s less than scum, no?” he asked her.

What on earth had the man done to earn this sweet, kind woman’s anger and bitterness? He could see it in the way her mouth had set into a hard, grim line and even the tenseness under her eyes, like she was holding back emotion. He let her have that moment to stare out at the trees instead of him, he didn’t need to see the entirety of her face for her profile to tell the truth.

Something hurt.

She was hurt.

By Feliks?

Instantly, that very idea made him irrationally angry, and Vaslav didn’t have a single clue why. He’d be a damn liar if he said that knowing the man had done something to displease this young woman made Vaslav want to find out why and what, and make Feliks apologize.

That wasn’t out of the question, either.

He only needed the time.

“Weren’t you there to see him that day?” Vera asked. “Why else would you be at The Swan House? I think I would have noticed you before.”

“Seeing a person doesn’t equal enjoying their time, does it?”