Page 41 of The Rusalka and Mr. Right

IT IS MADNESS. MAYBEI am trying to pretend Koshchei isn’t looming, every hour bringing him closer.

Or perhaps, just for a few weeks, I want to pretend I’m part of a loving family, a family of good men, smart, kind, funny, and athletic men, according to Kev. He’s the jewel in that crown, yet sometimes when he talks, I get the feeling that he’s been overshadowed by his twin brothers and their achievements.

At least they aren’t trying to murder each other. That’s a step up from my “father” and sisters.

“Hello, boys!” The seductive note creeps into my voice automatically, and my insides twist in guilt. It’s hard to turn itoff, but I’m still ashamed it came out with Cal and Carter. What’s more—it reminds me of the fear I can’t shake.

The fear that Kev doesn’t love me. He’s seduced by my rusalka charms, under my “spell,” and it will only last as long as I’m around him, giving him my attention and sharing his energy.

“Hi!” Cal sits forward on his bed and hops to what I assume is his laptop, face close to the screen. Up close, he’s a younger version of Kev. “What are you doing with the grumpy professor, and what’ll it take to get you to try out the newer model?”

Kevin mutters something threatening and rolls his eyes.

I lean against his chest, looking into his phone as he holds it above us, unwittingly sharing a perfect pose. “I only want this particular model.” My hand pats the space above his heart, wishing I truly owned it. “I prefer quality over quantity,” I wink, looking at the two nearly identical faces on the split screen.

“Oooh, you got burned,” Kev gloats, laughing and kissing the top of my head as his arm tightens around me.

Those little gestures, the hand holding, the way he wraps his arm around my waist in his sleep, the way he kisses my head... They’re not sexual. They’re affectionate. Loving, even. My eyes well up with no warning. “Your brother is wonderful and very stubborn.”

“Now who’s roasting?” Carter jeers, but all the teasing is good-natured.

I try not to think of Darya’s sneering voice when she confessed that my sisters murdered Gregor. I try not to remember the crunch of her bony neck under my sharp teeth.

“You have such a happy family. Thank you for introducing me. I should get back to work.”

“Oh? Kev’s hogging the scenery for himself,” Cal teases. “Have you been with him when he’s been on a fish taco binge and needs a whole bottle of Pepto?” Carter demands.

“Foul! Time out!” Kev barks.

“My intentions are that he lives a long, healthy, happy life. If I had one wish, I would share it with him,” I say simply. “Things like tacos and the contents of his medicine cabinet don’t matter to me.” I look up at Kev, ignoring the faces on the phone screen. “I was lucky to have met him.”Even for a little while.

Kevin’s brothers don’t speak.

Kev clears his throat, a hint of mirth in his voice. “You silenced ‘em. I’m pretty sure that only my mom, Meemaw, and Aunt Laverne have ever managed that. Guess you’re officially in the family. Boys? Objections?”

“Overruled,” Cal pipes up. “We’ll see both of you at Thanksgiving, right?”

My throat is tight. I would gladly say yes—but I doubt by then I’ll still be free. I won’t submit to Koshchei, so I’ll probably be long gone. “I would love that so much. Do you think your mother would like me?”

Carter advises, “Tell her she’s a goddess in the kitchen, ask for seconds, and pretend you like Patti LaBelle.”

“Idolike Patti LaBelle! I saw her in concert once.”

“Will you let her babysit?”

“Will you pretend the Eagles are the greatest football team ever created?”

The questions come rapid fire, back and forth like a runaway ping pong ball. The only way I can keep track of who is speaking is by looking at the tiny names in the corners of their pictures on the screen.

“I prefer swimming and hockey—but I’ll learn to like football,” I say quickly. I’m glad that they don’t press about the babysitting.

Kev deserves a family of his own.

And they don’t have adoptions in Pine Ridge? You know they do. You know there are families without kids. Family is not one size fits all.

Neither is love.

“Naw, boys, you might have to let us be the fun auntie and uncle.” Something subtle in Kev’s tone warns them not to ask, and they don’t.

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