Page 77 of Savage Warrior

“Where is he?” I ask them, once we’re inside their home.

“Who? There’s no one here,” she hisses. “Get out.”

There’s something about this woman that I seriously dislike, and I’m tempted to shoot her, just to shut her up.

Ethan shakes his head. “I’ll keep an eye of this pair, you look round.”

I remember the slamming door and take stock. This flat is bigger than Arina’s, extending to two rooms, and with a bit more by way of furniture and belongings. There’s only one door, so I head for that. It’s locked.

“The key?” I hold out my hand.

“Lost it,” the woman replies.

“Fair enough.” I boot the door off its hinges.

She leaps to her feet, only to be shoved back onto the ratty sofa by Ethan.

She sprawls across the cushions, shrieking. “You bastard. You’ll be paying for that, you will. If you whoresons think you can—”

She’s screeching in Russian, so Ethan doesn’t understand the precise meaning, but he gets her drift. The ominous click of his gun at her temple halts the flow of invective.

I ignore the commotion since Ethan seems to have it under control. Instead, I step through the wrecked door into the bedroom.

The room is empty. I swing my gaze over the double bedstead, the upturned crate serving as a bedside table and the stained oak dresser by the window. I’m about to retreat to question the couple further when I spot it. A child’s shoe poking out from beneath the bed.

I crouch to peer under the mattress. “Hello. Is your name Yuryl?” I use my best attempt at Russian, which admittedly has improved since I met Arina.

I’m greeted by a series of sniffles, and the foot is quickly tucked in as he tries to huddle further out of sight.

I persist. “Yuryl? I’m called Rome and I’m a friend of your sister. Arina. I’ve come to find you, for her.”

The sniffles pause, but the child doesn’t come out.

I press on. “Arina’s been really worried about you. She wants to know if you’re all right. Will you come out and talk to me?”

Silence now. I sit on the edge of the bed and wait. A few minutes pass, and I consider forcing the issue, then there’s the sound of scuffling from below. A small, tear-streaked face appears. I lean forward and offer him my hand.

“Hello, Yuryl.”

He examines my hand closely but remains where he is.

“Arina would love to see you. She wants you to come with me. Will you come out?”

He shakes his head. “Mrs Barazna said not to. She said I had to stay here and not talk to anyone,” he whispers.

“Is that Mrs Barazna? The lady out there?” I tip my head in the direction of the other room where Ethan is holding the couple.

He nods.

“Is she a nice lady?”

His little brow furrows in confusion. He starts to cry again.

“I don’t think a nice lady would make you hide under a bed and stop you from talking to anyone. Do you?”

He shakes his head. “She shouted at me. Arina never shouts.”

“Shall we go and see Arina?” I suggest.

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