Page 58 of Till Death Do Us Part

I looked down. “I don’t want to just… sit there while everybody else is putting themselves at risk.”

Caitlyn shook her head. “You’ve given enough.”

“It’s true,” Jenna said. “And besides—”

“Ah, shit,” Vera said, and I whipped my head over and relaxed at the sight: the kitten, Clara, jumping up into her lap. I stifled a laugh. Petra didn’t—she laughed out loud as Vera held her hands up, not sure what to do with the cat.

“Dogs and cats living in harmony,” Petra cackled. “How’d you get a kitten to attach to you?”

“She was like that the whole way here, too,” I said. “I was the one feeding her, but she kept clinging to Vera.”

“I didn’t do anything. Why are you on my lap?” Vera said, but Clara just purred, curled up, and went to sleep. “Son of a… so, anyway, we’re on duty cracking the logistics.” She petted Clara absently while she spoke. “Right now we have the advantage, because they don’t know yet we’ve broken rank. For now, we play with our cards close to our chest. Everybody on board?”

We all chimed in, putting our hands together, and my heart jumped when Vera’s came down on top of mine in the center and, subtly, she caressed her fingers over my knuckles, the motion hidden under the next hand.

Unseen. But very, very there.

The music room was filled with rolling piano chords, and I found myself walking in carefully, not wanting to interrupt. Vera sat at the piano bench, under the dark walls and the hardy, jade-green vines that curled around dramatic accents carved into the furniture. A jet-black grand piano that Vera poured her heart into, and my heart thumped at the sight.

She was a different woman at the piano. Her intense concentration was focused not on a mission, not on a target, but just on the moment. On the sounds that she sculpted. She closed her eyes in yearning passion as the song rose to its climax, and I watched her with a nervous flutter in my chest.

My wife.

What were we now? She’d married me to kill me, in the end. So if she wasn’t going to kill me…

Her ring gleamed in the low light from the dramatic chandelier.

I thought it looked beautiful on her long, slender fingers.

She finished, the song rolling out to a quiet finish, and I clapped quietly. She cracked her eyes, looking at me.

“I didn’t notice you come in,” she said.

“I didn’t know you ever stopped noticing your surroundings.”

“It’s rare.” She looked at the piano. “Maybe I felt safe for a moment.”

“You play beautifully.”

“Tchaikovsky. It was one of my favorites growing up. My father was a classical musician.” She spread her hands over the piano, smirking at me. “We have a bit of time now. Any requests?”

“I have one I’d like to hear, but I’m worried you’d think it’s too… generic.”

“I’m not playing you Chopsticks.”

“I’ve always loved Moonlight Sonata… my music teacher growing up was one of the only places I felt safe. She would play it, and I’d sit after hours in the room to listen. I think she played because she knew I would stay and that I felt safer there than at home… I know I would do the same for the library kids if I could.”

She studied me for a second before she turned back to the piano. “Not generic. Classic. And for a reason. Rachmaninov may be stunning, but there’s often more beauty in simplicity.”

She played. I felt tears welling up as I hovered at the side of the piano, those familiar rolling chords, the soft simplicity of the melody…

Maybe Vera was my safe place now. The woman who tried to kill me. My shelter.

My chest heaved by the time she finished, and I wiped my eyes in between clapping. She stood up, and I reached for her arm, just to touch her, but she pulled away.

“Oh… I’m sorry,” I whispered.

“You should be careful touching me,” she said quietly, not looking at me. “I told you I’m a predator. And you’re very tempting prey.”