Page 86 of Scorch

“Call Lev,” he snaps.

“Are you guys always like this? These pissing matches. Honest to God!” Lydia throws her hands up in the air.

Vera pipes up. “I’ve heard they even fight about who has more kids than the other ones.”

“Well, that's easy. Knock me up with triplets, and we'll blow everybody out of the water,” Lydia says to me.

Not a bad idea.

I punch the button on my phone, and Lev answers. “We're heading over to The Hidden Mark. I want you to check in on Zofia. You'll get there before we do because we have a quick stop first. Can you do that for me?”

“I'm not there, brother. Mikhail sent me to Manhattan for the day.”

“Shit. Aleks. He probably can.”

“Maybe we should skip the range and just go straight to Mom's,” Lydia suggests.

“She hasn't answered the phone?” I ask.

“No,” Lydia says. “She never answers her phone or texts. She's kind of a… what do you call it? Someone who hates technology.”

“Luddite,” Vera supplies. “Oh wait, I just got a text from her,” Vera says. “She says everything's fine, don't worry about me. I'll be out here all day. When are you coming? Love, Mom.”

She shrugs. “Sounds like Mom.”

We head down to the range where we train and have large stuffed dummies suitable for knife practice. We go over everything again and again until she's panting, her face red with the exertion. “How did I do?” she asks, her eyes fierce.

“I'm proud of you. If anyone comes to attack you and you have your knife on you, they don't stand a chance.”

“On me? How do we do that, by the way?”

“I can get a little harness strapped to your leg, a sheath that goes in the small of your back, or you… there are lots of options, and we can use more than one if you'd like.”

“Yeah, I would like that.”

As we head out, an alarm sounds.

“What?” she asks, giving me a wary look. She doesn't trust me at all after last night. Not at all.

“Metal detector.”

“Everybody has to have their weapons checked. But it doesn't make sense that it’s going off,” Lydia says. “You're holding the knives, not me. I don't have any on me.”

Fuck. It’s her tracker.

She looks at the display that shows what’s causing the alarm to go off.

I note the second she realizes. The second she knows.

“It’s pointing to my neck. It's that thing at my neck that I thought was a bug bite, isn't it? Isn't it!” she demands.

“Look, hate me later. Scream at me, whatever. We have to go to your mom's, and I want to be sure that you're safe. Don't do anything fucking stupid.”

“Nice double standard, Mr. Romanov,” she snarls. “‘Don't do anything stupid,’ but it's totally fine for you to install something in my neck like I'm a dog? When did you do this?”

“When I first got you,” I say between clenched teeth.

“When you… got me? It's really like I'm a dog. Viktor!”

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