Page 109 of Katya and the Young God

ANDREW OLLO (11:38 AM): What are you doing all the way up there?

Pieter draws another rune, connecting it to the protection rune, like an elaborate cursive, and his writing is a beautiful language, quite different than what Katya knows to read.

K (11:40 AM): Bought my own condo in Casper. Needed more space than the cabin.

Pieter gives her a sharp smile, though the tension remains around his eyes. “Here’s hoping all you need to do is find some teens,” he says, before switching to her other arm. “Are you going to be insulted if I make you a better shot with this?”

“Yes,” Katya responds, immediate, but he writes the rune anyways.

“If they take you captive, I’m going to come get you,” he says, voice carefully smooth. “I’ll call your demon friend, I’ll call anyone, you’re not going to stay there.”

A quiet patter of footsteps, as Selene bounds up the porch stairs, drawing their attention. Stepan jumps up behind her, panting, and Selene all but falls onto the swing, giggles audible even through the closed door.

“Don’t put her in danger.” The words fall out of Katya’s mouth, even though she knows he would never. “Emergency numbers are taped to the bottom of my nightstand.”

Another rune, along her wrist, and Pieter gives her the smallest, most embarrassed smile. “If something happens to you, I’ll know,” he says, in the most quiet, tender voice she’s ever heard. “I can’t prevent everything, I can’t do much but...but I’ll come get you.”

His eyes, the beautiful slate gray with his long lashes, meet hers, and she leans forward, meeting his lips with hers.

“I’ll find you,” he says, and it sounds like a vow. “Wherever you may be, I’ll find you.”

She hmmms against his mouth, and feels his lips split into a smile. “I’m not the sort that gets rescued,” she says, a warm pit in her stomach.

The corners of his lips tug downward, before he grips her by the chin and kisses her, hard, fast, and dangerous. “You’re coming back,” he says, voice thick. “You don’t get a choice in this, you’re coming back.”

“I’m coming back,” she repeats, but the tension doesn’t bleed from her face. “I’m coming back.”

* * *

She changesinto her sharpest suit, the suit with the strongest of lines, that widens her shoulders and hides the most guns, and Selene claps with joy when Katya strides out.

Pieter raises an eyebrow at her, appreciative. “You look like you’re about to slit someone’s throat,” he says, and a nicer compliment Katya has never received.

“You’re gonna make them bleed!” Breathes Selene, which is not great, but at least somewhat positive for Katya.

“Should I bring extra gloves, then?” Katya teases back, because if she can’t stop the kid from predicting creepy things in the future, at least she can tease her for it.

Her face screws up. “No?” But then her expression clears. “Can you take me? Someone’s going to die.”

“No,” Katya says, quick, but —

“Who?” Pieter asks, at the same time.

Selene looks between the two of them, fast. “Someone tall?” She says, unsteady. “Taller than you.”

“Reassuring,” Katya says, fitting her gun with the copper bullets into her shoulder holster, no matter how much it hurts to draw, before she stills. “Selene, can you tell how we’re going to die?”

“Yeah,” she says, simple, in her pink and purple coat and overlarge snow boots, her hair pulled back into a ponytail. “But I thought you didn’t want me to tell people that.”

Katya puts her own hands in gloves, before crouching next to Selene, pulling her into a gentle, careful hug, one that Selene clings back. “I’m not gonna be mad at you if you tell me,” she says, even though she should probably not have that information. Even though it’s probably only a thing that will draw in more worry, more concern.

“You’re gonna...by the hand of a friend.” Selene’s face pinches together, like she’s unsure. “I don’t know when.”

Katya gives her another squeeze, before straightening, giving a nod to a very pale Pieter. “That’s not foreboding, not at all,” she says, but he doesn’t smile back.

“So if you see a friend today, just walk away,” he says, and she can tell he’s attempting a joke, but it falls flat. “Don’t even risk it.”

“Gonna be great for my trust issues.”

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