Page 121 of Lethal Legacy

“I’m pretty sure they drink a lot.” She smiles, adjusting Masha’s costume. Somehow I feel calmer just being close to her.

Dangerous, Borovsky, dangerous.

This whole domestic arrangement is dangerous, and not just because of the chaotic crowd. I’m getting involved, way more than I ever intended, both with Lucia and the kids. And at the same time, it’s a seductive danger, the kind that reaches out with the comforting smell ofalfajoresand afternoon dinners and lulls me into believing it’s a life I could actually live.

Get your head back in the game.

“You’re wearing a mask, right?” I say, scanning the crowd.

“I’ve got it.” Ofelia pushes through the crowd, waving two lion masks. “One for Luce, one for me.”

“Lions,” I say dryly, eyeing the masks, “and cacti? The mystery of Golgotha gets more mysterious with every passing moment.”

“Hush.” Lucia elbows me warningly. “The teacher slash director is in earshot. It’s her baby, so be nice.”

I roll my eyes. Ofelia, looking between us, giggles.

By the time the floats are arrayed and the children in place on them, I’m in as much need of a drink as I am of blissful silence. “Don’t you dare,” Lucia hisses, seeing me look longingly toward the bar, where several of the fathers have already decamped. “You will walk beside the float with Ofelia and watch every inch of the cactus dance.”

“Who’s employing who?” I grumble, but I let Ofelia take my hand anyway. She leads me behind Lucia through the crowds to Masha’s float. Lucia kneels down behind a clump of fake grass right behind Masha, who keeps turning around to talk to her, which leads to Lucia repeatedly turning Masha back in the right direction.

It’s exactly the kind of scene I’ve spent years staying the fuck away from. And yet for some reason, Ilikebeing here. Most of all, I like being here with Lucia.

Better make the most of it. There’s only four and half months left of that contract.

I shift uncomfortably. I don’t like thinking about that fucking contract. Increasingly, even remembering it makes me feel slightly sick. I particularly don’t like thinking that goddamn piece of paper is the only reason Lucia’s here.

“Masha!” Ofelia waves at her sister, and Masha beams from the small round hole in her cactus costume. On the front float, Mickey, with his headphones on and face fixed in concentration, hits a button, and the music begins. Pavel, beside him, claps him on the shoulder and gives me an extremely nerdy thumbs-up. Mickey follows the direction of Pavel’s gesture and sees me. I wave, returning Pavel’s dorky thumbs-up, and Mickeys face lights up in a brief flash of surprised pleasure before he turns back to his laptop. The screen on the back of his float explodes in color and then begins a complicated series of psychedelic patterns. I can’t help but admire his concentration. The kid’s barely fourteen, and he’s coordinating a complex light and sound show with timings for over fifty acts. There’s a quiet certainty about the way he conducts himself, a solemn maturity, that impresses me, but he also has his father’s kindness. Watching him bestow a rare smile on an anxious girl who has the wires mixed up, gently untangling them for her, I think that Mikhail would be extremely proud of the young man his son is becoming.

Ofelia is running beside the float, vigorously repeating the movements for the cactus dance so that Masha can copy her. Between Ofelia and Lucia, Masha manages to remain in position and at least look like she vaguely knows some of the choreography.

“Why are there lions and a fucking cactus in an Easter parade?” Dimitry mutters, coming alongside me.

“No idea. Still haven’t made sense of it. Just cheer like you understand,” I say out of the corner of my mouth, waving and smiling at Masha.

“There’s a lot of cameras.” He nods at a journalist running alongside the floats on the other side of the road. There’s also the usual barrage of cell phones being held up, filming the entire thing. I was right the first time. The entire event is fucking security nightmare. Despite my men scattered through the crowd and walking close to the float and to Ofelia, I don’t like it. I don’t like it at all.

“Any sign of our friend Lance yet?” I scan the crowd, looking for the English bastard’s face.

“Nope.” Dimitry shakes his head. “But there’s an incoming to your left that’s almost as much fun. Christ.” He inclines his head to where Nikolai, hair slicked back, flanked by more muscle than a Kardashian, dripping ostentatious gold and wearing a shiny tracksuit and sneakers, is making his way through the crowd toward us. “What did he do, go shopping at Gangsters“R”Us?”

“Roman!” Nikolai shouts above the music, giving me an oily smile.

He throws his cigarette to the ground as he approaches, almost stubbing it out on the foot of a small child.

“Nikolai.” I swallow my distaste. “Subtle,” I say, nodding at the muscle clustered around him.

“Crowds aren’t safe, Roman, you know that.” Something about the way he says it, a slightly cocky edge, makes my unease grow.

“Expecting trouble, Nicky?” I keep my eyes on Masha’s float as I speak, watching Lucia’s crouched figure and the little dancing cactus. I move slightly closer, so I’m barely a pace from where Ofelia is running alongside.

“I’m like a Boy Scout, Roman. Always prepared.”

Oh, this fucker is definitely up to something.

“I was surprised you decided to come today.” I speak without looking at him.

“I could say the same about you.” Nikolai has fallen in step beside me. I move aside, putting a little distance between us and getting even closer to the float. “I wasn’t aware you were so dedicated to my nephew and nieces.” He shoots me a sideways glance, but I don’t take the bait.

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