64. Andrey

64

ANDREY

"Isn't this fun?" Nikolai eyes my gun with amusement, knowing as well as I do that it's useless. "If we're going to kill people, it might as well be poetic. Don't you agree, pretty lamb?"

Natalia is pale as ash and shaking like a leaf

"Don't you dare fucking speak to her!" I snarl.

"You're in no position to be giving orders, Andrey," he replies coolly. "As a matter of fact, I'd be very careful about how you speak to me."

"One bullet is all it would take, Rostov. One fucking bullet."

He sighs like this whole charade is boring him. "And just like that, another precious minute lost to idle chatter and idler threats. Only twelve left. Life does move so fast, doesn't it?" He kicks away the ratty old carpet at his feet to reveal a trap door. When he opens it, it reveals a set of stairs that descend into a pool of darkness below.

Nikolai takes the first step and pauses. "You can come after me if you want, but your lady would pay the price, I'm afraid."

My gaze slides to Natalia. She looks beyond terrified, but she's still here with me. Her eyes are focused and present. I wonder if that's a good thing or not. If we do make it out of here, the memories of this nightmare might drown her.

He takes another step, his eyes dancing with amusement I desperately want to shatter with a bullet. Several bullets, preferably.

"It's up to you, Andrey. What's more important to you: your woman or winning?"

The fight continues to rage around us. Footsteps thunder down the hall and more guns bark and chatter downstairs.

My men are out there fighting and Natalia is strapped to a bomb. They'll all be gone if I don't save her.

Not that there was ever another choice, anyway.

I turn my back on Nikolai and drop to my knees in front of Natalia. Nikolai's triumphant laugh rings out before the trap door thuds closed, sealing away the sound.

"Andrey…" Natalia's eyes are wide as she stares at me. Her lips are chalky white.

"You're going to be fine, lastochka ." I circle her chair and clock every detail I can see. Three colored wires weave in and out of the vest.

Blue.

Yellow.

Red.

Only one is safe to cut. Only one will stop the bomb from detonating before the twelve—no, fuck— eleven minutes are up.

Natalia is shaking, the chair rattling against the wood floor from the force of her tremors. "Go, Andrey. Just g-go. It's too late."

"Don't you do that," I snarl. "Don't you fucking give up."

"Please," she rasps. "We don't both have to die…"

Suddenly, the door flies open.

I lunge for the gun, ready to fight tooth and nail for the opportunity to snip one of these wires. At least then, Natalia and I would die together. At least she wouldn't watch me die in front of her.

But it's only Shura, followed by a blood-splattered Leonty and Efrem.

"Fuck…" Shura mutters, inching forward cautiously. "Is that what I think it is?"

Our eyes meet. I know I'm asking a lot from him, but the alternative is not an option. And when he gives me a solemn nod in return, I know he will be with us to the end.

"Leonty, Efrem—get our men out of the house." I glance at the timer on the vest.

Nine minutes.

Leonty stiffens. "I'm not leaving."

"Don't fucking question me. I gave you an order and I expect it to be followed."

When he still doesn't yield, I grab him and pull him so close that only he'll be able to hear what I have to say. "If Shura is unsuccessful, everyone on this block will be reduced to ash. Go, brother. You have Mila to think of now."

That, at last, seems to get through to him. He slumps in resignation and turns towards the door, but I grab him again. "Leonty, you're my cousin. I trust you. If this goes wrong, avenge me and my family."

He shakes his head. "I… Andrey, you're not going to?—"

I don't have time for empty optimism. Neither does Natalia.

I push him out of the room and slam the door.

Shura's kneeling next to her, plucking at the wires of the vest and muttering softly to himself.

Seven minutes.

Natalia's eyes are trained on the floor. They're wide and empty, her jaw slack. I drop down in front of her and cup her face. "Come back to me, little bird."

She blinks through a fog I can't see, finally focusing her eyes on mine.

"I'm sorry." I clasp her hand tightly, hoping she knows how much I mean it. "I should have come to you first and dealt with Slavik later."

She blinks again and a tear falls down her cheek. I lean forward and catch it between my lips. Five minutes.

"Andrey, please," she whispers. "Take Shura… Just go ."

Shura's still muttering under his breath, so I answer for the both of us. "We're all leaving, lastochka . You included. Mila and Katya are waiting for you at the manor. So is Misha. And Remi."

More tears spill down her cheeks.

Four minutes.

"M-Misha…" she sobs. "He doesn't need to lose another person."

"Exactly. We're his family now. And we have to go back for him."

My hand goes to her belly. I feel the baby—my daughter—kick fiercely. As though she recognizes me. As though she agrees with me.

Three minutes.

"I-I'm scared…"

I'm desperate to look at Shura, to ask how it's going. Has he narrowed it down?

Pick a color, brother. Time is running short.

"There's nothing to be scared of." I dig into my shirt and pull out her locket. I've worn it faithfully ever since she gave it to me. "See? I'm wearing your gift."

I reach around Natalia's throat and touch the pendant I gave her. "I'm wearing yours and you're wearing mine. They'll keep us safe. We have nothing to be afraid of."

She smiles through her tears, her eyes scanning over my face again and again. Like she's determined to take in as much as she can… just in case.

One minute.

As seconds wither and die, I feel my hope die with them. If Shura can't figure this out, there's no way out.

Forty-three seconds.

Forty-two.

Forty-one.

"Andrey." Her voice is strangely, alarmingly calm. I can smell death in the room with us. I wonder if she can, too. "I want you to know something."

I've been prepared to die since I was a teenager. I accepted the likelihood that my life would be short a long time again. So I know the fear in my gut is not for myself.

It's for her.

Even if I have to go, why does she? My death will cost the world nothing. But hers? The earth will lose something precious if Natalia is not here to walk it.

All the people she's drawn in and held close—Remi, Misha, Mila, Katya, even my fucking guards—they'll be worse without her. Even the gardens won't be the same without Natalia's laugh to fill them.

Thirty seconds.

"You can tell me tomorrow," I rasp. "Tomorrow, when we're back in the manor and Remi is playing with Misha in the garden."

"I love you, Andrey." She smiles sadly, and my chest constricts.

Her hope is gone. She thinks this is the end.

I grab her hand and bring it to my mouth, breathing her in for what might be the last time. As far as dying goes, this is better than I ever imagined for myself. It's better than I deserve.

Twenty seconds.

"Natalia—"

" Yes !" Shura's triumphant voice cuts through the room.

Seventeen seconds.

Seventeen seconds.

Seventeen seconds.

The flashing countdown on Natalia's chest is frozen, but I still can't let myself believe it.

Until Shura stands up, a blue wire held above his head and a wild look in his eyes.

"You did it," I breathe. "You fucking did it."

Natalia lets out a strangled cry, and I tear the vest off her and drop it to the floor. She rises on trembling legs and then falls into my arms, sobbing on my shoulder.

I rise to my feet, taking her with me. I curl her in my arms and walk out of the room, leaving the stink of death behind us.