Page 4 of The Last Casterglass
“Yes. I am jet lag.”
I don’t exactly buy that since Ivan has been here for two weeks, and like me, he rarely sleeps longer than four hours. But there’s no way I can refute it. I raise an eyebrow at him, but Ivan waves me off.
Ty slides the knife in his pocket and sits beside me. “We’re going to take a quick nap, then go see some sights. You should join us, Ivan.”
“I am not tourist, kolibri.”
“Please?” Ty bats his eyes innocently at my grandfather, and I watch Ivan give in in real time. Looks like I’m not the only one enchanted by Ty. Even a hardened Russian psychopath doesn’t stand a chance.
“Only a few hours. I am old man. I need sleep.” Again, I give him a dry look. Ivan doesn’t need sleep. Something in the back of my mind is saying Ivan isn’t telling me everything. We’re not exactly the sharing type, but we usually don’t have to talk—we just know things. But for some reason, I can’t figure out what Ivan isn’t telling me.
Ty smiles, resting his head on my shoulder. “London Eye first?”
Looking down at him with a happy grin on my face, I nod. “London Eye first.”
“Knock on door when you ready.” Ivan goes to his room, leaving me with a tired, but excited Ty.
“I like your grandfather. Really stern, but I like him.”
Yeah, he’s something. “That’s good, kotenok. Let’s take a nap. We’ll have a long day ahead of us if you want to visit every attraction.” We plan to leave the morning after the hit, not wanting to linger around for risk of getting caught.
We strip down to our underwear, and we’re out like a light before either of us can say anything else.
My phone alarm wakes us two hours later, and Ty eagerly bounds into the bathroom to get changed.
CHAPTER 22
LEO
The line for the London Eye is long, but I don’t mind waiting with Ty. I’d rather slit everyone’s throat so Ty can skip the line, but I don’t act on it. Ivan looks like he wants to do the same. He keeps glancing at Ty, a soft smile playing on his face. I’m not sure what Ivan is thinking about my kotenok, but he seems to like him too.
We finally get in one of those bubbles on the London Eye, and it takes us slowly to the top. Even though it moves at a sedate pace, more and more of the landscape is revealed the higher we get. “Wow,” Ty mutters, face pressed to the glass. “It’s pretty. Come, Ivan, Leo. Check it out.”
Like puppets on a string, we both move to where he’s standing and listen to Ty gush about everything he sees. I don’t really care about the scenery or sightseeing, but I love how Ty’s face glows as he looks around.
After we get off the London Eye, we go past the Big Ben, taking pictures of Ty in front of it. He also weasels me and Ivan into a photo. Neither of us looks too upset by it. We ride a river cruise that Ty loves, smiling the entire time as he listens to the orator and reads the pamphlet we were handed.
By the time we’re done with the sights, Ty is dead on his feet, and I’m shocked that Ivan looks bushed too. I’ve never seen him tired, even when he made me stay awake with him for forty-one hours on a stakeout. Something is definitely up.
We go back to our hotel, and after Ty insists we see Ivan to his room—pointedly ignoring Ivan’s stoney gaze—we return to our own. We take a quick shower and lie in bed. I don’t even remember falling asleep.
Ty and I float in and out of sleep until around ten the next morning, then we get Ivan to have some breakfast. Once again, we go over our plan, but we whisper in Russian, hoping not many people can understand it. We still keep our voices low, but we don’t switch to English. I told Ty it was necessary for us to communicate in a language not widely used in the UK so he wouldn’t feel left out.
A few hours later, we head to the city center to get into position. Ivan separates from us, heading to the nest he set up yesterday, and we go to the one he has sorted for me. There, I find the rifle case Ivan left and put the weapon together. I assemble it slowly, explaining what I’m doing to Ty as I go just in case he’d like to work with long-range rifles in the future.
Once it’s assembled, Ty sits beside me with a pair of binoculars, wanting to see what happens.
Looking through the scope, I scan the area, checking for my target. She hasn’t arrived yet. Pulling the weapon away, I ask Ty, “Wanna see?”
“Yeah,” he says excitedly. We trade, Ty handing me the binocular as he takes the rifle. I move behind him, adjusting his arms, posture and the rifle until they’re both in good positions.
“Is that comfortable?” I ask, tipping the barrel up just a touch.
Ty hums. I drop my hands and shuffle back, allowing Ty to get a feel for the rifle. I have to admit, he looks good with it in his hands. Then again, Ty looks fucking good all the time. Seeing him with a rifle perched on his knee only makes the image hotter.
After a few minutes, Ty lowers the rifle and hands it to me. “I think she’s here.”
I take it from him and get into position, scanning the area. On my second sweep, I spot her, sitting down with a drink and a sandwich. She’s older, maybe late fifties. That’s good in this business. Most of us don’t grow very old. Ivan is an anomaly, in his seventies and still taking contracts.
