Page 158 of Ivory Ashes

It would be a lie to say the same question isn’t burning in the back of my mind. I have no idea when this little world we’ve built could come tumbling down or when Mikhail will pull this rug out from under me.

The only thing I do know is that Dante is here right now. We both are.

“It won’t be too late. We have time.” I wrap my arm around him and smooth his hair out of his face. “We have nothing but time.”

We fall asleep like that, Dante snoozing next to me. It reminds me of the years we spent in our tiny little apartment. There were so many nights when he had nightmares and I would crowd into his toddler bed with him. We’d wake up smashed together, his knees in my spine and his elbows in my ribs.

Those were good nights.

But when I blink my eyes open, the bed is empty.

I can see the nest of blankets where Dante was curled up, but he isn’t there anymore.

“Dante?”

Boom. Boom. Boom. The walls start to shake.

I duck down, my first thought going to gunshots.

When the sound stops, I turn to the door. It’s closed. The frame is still splintered and cracked on the inside from when Mikhail tore through it last night, but somehow, the door is locked.

The banging starts up again, and I realize it’s a hammer. Someone is pounding on the other side.

I leap out of bed and yank on the doorknob, but it doesn’t budge. Somehow, it might be sturdier than before Mikhail broke it.

“Leave it be, Viv,” Anatoly sighs. He sounds weary. “You aren’t getting through this.”

“What are you doing?” I jerk on the handle, but the door doesn’t even rattle in the frame. Whatever Anatoly is doing, it’s solid. “Are you locking me in here?”

“Please don’t…” He sighs again. “You’ll get out soon, okay? Mikhail just needs some time.”

“Time to decide if he’s going to kill me?” I spit.

“He won’t do that.”

Anatoly sounds sure, but I’m not. As I crawl to the wall and slide down it, I can’t even find the energy to panic over being trapped in this room.

All I can think is, It’s too late.

There’s no way out of here. Even Pyotr can’t help me now.

58

MIKHAIL

“I finished with her door.” Anatoly leaves a hammer on the corner of my desk. “What did you do to it, anyway? It looked like the Kool-Aid Man had been in there.”

I grimace up at him. I try to ignore Anatoly on a good day. And after everything that happened last night and less than an hour of sleep, today is not a good day. “What the hell are you talking about?”

He mimes crashing through a wall and rumbles in a fake-deep voice, “Oh, yeah!”

“You’re talking about a damn commercial.” I drag a hand over my face.

“No, I’m talking about you tearing through Viviana’s door like it’s a banner and you’re the home team at a football game, only to have me bolting her inside six hours later.”

“Is there a question somewhere in there? I’m not in the mood for a word puzzle.”

“Why?” Anatoly kneels down so he can meet my eyes.

---