Page 53 of Scorch

“Straight black?”

“Mmm.”

Of course.

If he has my favorite coffee creamer in that goddamn fridge—he opens it, takes out the matte-white creamer bottle, and slides it across the counter to me. “Vera told me what you like. It's good stuff. Of course you like it.”

I'm not sure what that means. He hands me my latte and makes his espresso.

Nikita comes up to me and licks my hand. “You're such a pretty girl.” I bend to scratch her ears. She does that thing that dogs do, unable to hide this near bliss she has when I scratch her ears. Her eyes go half lidded, and her ears go back. “Such a pretty, pretty girl,” I croon. I love her.

Viktor sips his espresso, his eyes burning into me.

“What? I can't scratch her ears?”

“You have to stop putting motives behind my looks; it isn't fair, and you don't know me.”

When he turns away, I snort. “Oh, that's right. Hello, pot calling the kettle black.”

Frowning, he walks over to a white pastry box on the counter and takes out a pastry bigger than his hand, drizzled in white sugar and sliced almonds. My mouth waters.

“What? I'm not doing that to you. I mean, isn’t that what you’re doing to me?”

“Assigning motives to someone and understanding what they're thinking are two completely different things, Lydia.”

I stand and walk away from him to assess the situation.

I take a frying pan and slide it onto his stove. He has one of those fancy flat induction things. Heat instantly springs to the pan. I throw a pat of butter in, and when it's nice and hot and sizzling, I slide bacon into the pan. I fry eggs and bacon, drain it all, and put it on a plate with a sprinkle of kosher salt and fresh pepper.

He watches me, sipping his espresso. “Don't get used to this,” I warn him. “I'm just starving, and I like your kitchen.”

He only shrugs.

He takes the pastry out of the box and puts it on a plate. We eat in almost amiable silence. Almost.

The food hits my belly, and it's delicious. I eat until I’m full then push my plate away.

“Now, are you ready to tell me about the new developments?”

He eats an egg with one bite, chomps, and swallows, as if it's his life mission to eat with efficiency, slaps butter on four slices of toast, eats all the bacon on the plate, and then reaches for my discarded plate and finishes everything on that.

Shit.

But I guess you have to feed a man like that well. He’s a big guy.

Viktor wipes his mouth and looks at me, his gaze intense. “We couldn't find him.”

My heart skips a beat. “What do you mean you couldn't find him?”

“Our contacts, everyone we have on the ground… He's gone. Disappeared. No trace.”

I stare at him, processing the information. “Isn't that good? He can't hurt us if he’s gone.”

Viktor shakes his head slowly. “It’s not that simple. The fact that he vanished means he might have powerful help. And he might come back when we least expect it.”

Fear coils in my stomach, but I try to keep my voice steady. “So what do we do now?”

His eyes darken. “We stay vigilant. I'll increase security around you and Vera. We can't afford to take any chances. I got you a new phone, and you’ll keep it on you at all times.”

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