Page 33 of Fatal Bonds

“You’re always welcome here, Kira. This is your home. You know that.”

Kira beams at me, then looks back at Lindsey, to make sure she’s not imposing.

“Yeah, I’d love to get to know you,” she says. “How long are you staying?”

“I just thought I’d stop by for a good home-cooked meal. No one knows how to cook quite like Lenka”

Lindsey nods, and as if she heard her name, my personal-chef-slash-self-designated-foster mother-to-Kira steps out of the kitchen.

“Dinner’s served,” she says.

“Perfect timing.” Kira claps her hands and leads the way toward the dining table, with Lindsey following and me bringing up the rear.

The bowls of dark broth steam as we sit down around the table, Lindsey and Kira sitting across from each other as I take the head of the table.

“So,” Lindsey starts as I take a bite of rich, savory stew, relishing the perfectly cooked spoonful of carrot, potato, and shredded beef. “You’re related through Maks’s… sister?”

She draws out the word ‘sister’ as she fishes for the right answer, and Kira nods around her mouthful of food.

“Do you and your mom live nearby, then?”

Kira coughs as she accidentally swallows her unchewed bite and covers her mouth with her napkin as she tries to collect herself.

“Leanna was killed when Kira was young,” I say, keeping the answer short and direct to hopefully keep Lindsey from digging deeper. “Kira’s currently enrolled in an all-girls private boarding school.”

Judging by the color of Lindsey’s cheeks, I think my blunt response worked, and she looks at Kira apologetically. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

“It’s fine.” Kira waves away her concern. “Like my uncle said, it was a long time ago. I don’t really remember my mom or my life beforedjadjabecame my ward.”

Lindsey glances in my direction, surprise flitting across her face, then she nods and takes a bite of soup as silence settles over the room. “So, boarding school. What’s that like?” she asks after a long pause.

For the rest of dinner, Lindsey seems to intentionally steer the conversation toward safer topics as she keeps Kira engaged in conversation, and I’m content to sit back and listen, happy to hear about my niece’s experiences at school, her friends, her current interests. She and Lindsey seem to connect on more than one level, gushing about music artists they both enjoy or characters they like from the books they’ve read. It’s nice to hear Kira be enthusiastic about something—even if I have no clue who she and Lindsey are talking about most of the night. There was a time I wasn’t sure Kira would ever find peace after what happened, but listening to her with Lindsey gives me hope that my niece hasn’t gotten trapped in the past.

Her affection for my temporary house guest is easy to see as well, and I’m glad Kira doesn’t dive into who Lindsey is to me or why she’s here, because I don’t like lying, so I have no clue what I would have said if she asked. But it warms my chest to see Lindsey putting in the time and effort to get my niece to open up. It’s the happiest I’ve seen Kira in such a long time. I could picture her and Lindsey becoming quick friends if the opportunity presented itself, and by the end of the night, as we walk Kira out, my niece even pulls Lindsey in for a hug goodbye.

“It was so nice to meet you, Lindsey. I hope I see you again,” she gushes before releasing her.

Lindsey smiles, the look so warm and genuine, it makes me realize the full potential of her affection. But I don’t have time to dwell on it as Kira turns her megawatt smile in my direction.

“I love you,djadja.” She squeezes my hands in the same way she has since she was a little girl, and as she rises onto her toes to kiss my cheek, Kira whispers, “I like her. I hope she sticks around.” Then, with a swirl of her long dark hair, she marches into the elevator before the doors close.

“I adore your niece,” Lindsey says as soon as we’re alone.

I smile. “She’d be pretty hard not to love,” I agree.

We head back into the living room, settling onto the couch to finish our wine from dinner, and Lindsey stares thoughtfully out the window at the cityscape below.

“You never told me what happened to her mom,” she says softly, her eyes sad as she turns to look at me.

I nod. “It’s part of the risk that comes with being a part of my world. My father had many enemies, so to hit him where it hurt, one of our rivals took both my sister and my mother. They killed Kira’s father in the process and sent us back Leanna and my mother’s heads as a message.”

Lindsey’s face pales, and she swallows hard. “Did it work? Did you get the message?”

I study her eyes closely, gauging the fear and horror there. I find compassion, too—enough to know she’s considering what that loss meant for me, for Kira, for my family—and it makes my chest tighten. “Not the one they intended. But it did ensure that every last Chekov in Chicago was wiped off the face of the earth. That was my father’s last act aspakhanbefore he handed his legacy over to me.”

“And where is he now?”

“Dead.”

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