Page 11 of Fight

Something told me that Ioan didn’t, at least not as much, but he wasn’t acting afraid. Then again, I was afraid enough for both of us.

I tried to stay still, but couldn’t help but look at Ioan when he began talking in a language that wasn’t English. He pointed at me and then at Markov, clearly discussing the evening’s events. I didn’t understand a single word that came out of his mouth, nor the words that came out of Anton’s mouth and then Markov’s.

And then the room was silent. Anton looked at me and then Ioan did. Markov was too busy staring daggers at Ioan, but this time, I could hardly pay attention to him. Instead, I stood, wondering what would happen next, praying that it wouldn’t be my death.

Ioan shook his head, but I couldn’t interpret what that meant. Couldn’t try to read his face either because he looked away and back to Markov.

Anton did as well. He said one final thing, and then turned on his heel and left, all without looking at me again, something for which I was grateful.

Markov followed his path, but he—of course—paused to look at me, his gaze raking me up and down. Then he said, “We will meet again, kitten.”

Fuck you!my mind screamed.

But my mouth somehow stayed silent, and after another glare, he went toward the exit, leaving me alone with Ioan.

I watched Markov leave, staring at the doorway even after he left. My heart was pounding so furiously I was having a hard time breathing. Nothing new, at least not over these last weeks, but there was something different about it. Because I was relieved Markov was gone, so relieved I couldn’t even think of how shocked I was that he’d left.

But I was also afraid, because while Markov had left, something I’d wished for, he hadn’t left me alone.

I turned to Ioan then and stared at him. He stared back, dark eyes assessing.

My impression of him held.

He was dangerous, but his eyes glittered with intelligence and calculation, though without the comparison of Ciprian, the humanity I thought I’d seen in him was not as apparent. And here, alone with him, I wondered how this new development would bode for me.

Ioan didn’t give me a clue, instead watching me, taking my measure, as I was taking his.

I stood as still as he did, the intense, thick silence deepening as I tried to gauge what he was thinking, what he planned to do next, and not coming up with any ideas.

With each moment that passed, the tension ratcheted higher and higher and higher.

Until it finally broke. “What do you want?” I snapped.

My newfound ability to hold my tongue fleeing in this vital moment.

He scowled. “To have never laid eyes on you.”

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