Page 1 of Crave

PROLOGUE

ALEXEI

Twenty Years Ago

I’ll go homewhen my candy’s gone.

If Papa catches me with it when he’s drunk, he’ll beat me again for stealing. My lip hasn’t healed from last time, but I can finally take a full breath again from my sore ribs.

I don’t hate him. Not that I know what that would feel like.

But I avoid him.

My feet trace the puddle under the swing in half-moon circles. The air is cold enough to see my breath, so I know I’ll have to find a warm place to hide until my treats are gone.

I didn’t take them. He shouldn’t make up stories. Papa always tells me lying is wrong, but then punishes me, even when I tell the truth.

“You, kid! Why are you always here?” A brown haired boy, bigger than me, yells across the desolate playground.

I thought I was alone.

There’s two of them, both taller and wider than me.

I bet they’re teenagers.

I can’t wait until I’m one. I’d stand up to Papa if I were.

The black haired one moves closer. “Didn’t you hear my brother?” Bending at the waist, he peers at me with his dark eyes.

He doesn’t look mean, at least.

“What happened to your face?” His tone softens, like he’s talking to a child younger than me.

I’m almost a teenager, not a baby.

Defiantly, I stick up my chin and meet his gaze. “None of your business.” The hard candy clicks against my teeth as I shift it to the other side of my mouth.

The smile makes him look nicer. Maybe they aren’t going to take my treat?

“What’s your name?” The brown haired one stands behind his brother who drops to a squat in front of me. “I’m Nikolai. You can call me Niki. This—” He drops a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “—is Mikhail. We won’t hurt you.”

Niki has blue eyes. I’ve had to learn to watch people’s faces. I’m not very good at guessing emotions, but their features usually tell me what they’re thinking.

Papa’s mouth will twist and his eyebrows drop into a line across his nose just before he starts swinging.

“Do I call you Miki?” I stare at the squatted boy. He looks almost like a grown up with the stubble on his jaw.

Nikolai grins. “Not if you want to live.”

Mikhail winks at me as he shakes his head.

Confusing.

Does that mean sometimes?

“So, you kill people? Can you teach me?” I can use that the next time Papa gets mean.

Mikhail’s brows knit, and it reminds me of Papa.

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