Page 3 of Emerald Vices

There are a few gaping seconds of silence. “Okay, Francesca’s Pizzeria. I’ll send you what you need. Don’t move, do you hear me?”

Clutching the phone tighter still, I ask the one question that makes my heart want to burst right out of my chest. “Kat—” I take a deep breath, the words still coming out in a hitch. “I-is he okay?”

She doesn’t pretend not to understand. “Shura’s with him now. He’s going to be fine.”

Only with that assurance do I hang up.

2

ANDREY

“Easy there.”

Misha squints at me, his color still ghostly pale. He attempts to raise his arm to shield his eyes from the chandelier directly above us, but he barely gets halfway before a hiss of pain escapes through his teeth.

“She—” I can’t bring myself to say Yelena’s name. “—really put a dent in your shoulder.”

Clasping Misha’s forearm, I reel him forward so that he can sit up a little better. He looks around and catches sight of Remi across the room. Still unconscious, still recovering.

“Wh…what happened?”

I prop a pillow behind him and sit back down. “You fainted. Picked an inconvenient place to fall, too. You whacked your head against the edge of the china cabinet. Dr. Abdulov said you might have a mild concussion.”

Misha rubs the back of his head with his undamaged arm, and I feel the urge to pat his knee or clasp his shoulder. I want to do something, anything to wipe that scared, worried look off his face.

But I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.

This is Natalia’s area of expertise. She was the one who knew how to comfort and coddle and reassure. She was the one who knew what to say and when to say it.

But Natalia isn’t here.

My little bird took flight, leaving behind a broken dog, a traumatized boy, and a bloodstained bullet that I had to pry out of my arm.

“You’ll be okay. The shoulder will take a few weeks to heal, though, so take it easy.”

Misha looks around the room. I know what he’s going to say before he even opens his mouth. “Where’s Natalia?”

I dodge the question because I still don’t have an answer. “You did great back there, Misha. If it weren’t for you, we’d never have known what Yelena was really up to.”

His cheeks brighten with pleasure.

“I owe you my gratitude. As do all my men. You single-handedly found the mole in our midst.”

“It wasn’t single-handed.” Misha’s forehead wrinkles, his lips turning down. “I wasn’t the one to kill her.”

There’s no denying the bloodlust in his voice. I can relate, intimately. And yet hearing it thick in the voice of my fourteen-year-old ward is unsettling.

I know exactly what Natalia would say if she were here: He’s too young to feel so responsible for us.

Then again, maybe I’m just fooling myself. Maybe I have no fucking clue what Natalia would say if she were here. She’s already surprised me twice today.

“Andrey?” His voice is barely a whisper. “W-why did I faint?” There’s shame driving the question.

“You were badly injured. Adrenaline was the only thing keeping you upright. That and the desire to protect Natalia.”

“But Natalia…” He shakes his head as though he’s trying to dislodge a memory. “It’s all hazy… I don’t remember all of it. But I do remember Yelena trying to attack Natalia.”

“She tried,” I acknowledge. “But she didn’t succeed.”

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