Page 125 of Lethal Legacy

“Yes, she is,myshka.” I catch Masha as she teeters at the edge of the float after a slightly too enthusiastic spin. The exhausted teacher shoots me a grateful look. “You’re doing such a wonderful job,” I say to Masha. “Just be careful when you turn, darling.” I keep a handful of the cactus costume bunched in my hand, just in case.

Masha has a habit of darting off in any direction at any given moment. It’s one of the reasons I know Ofelia needs to be here, close by, keeping an eye on her. I want Ofelia to gradually start trusting me to take on that role, to begin to have a life for herself. The other girls her age are on floats themselves, or in the crowd in a group of friends. Ofelia seems to know none of them and care even less, even though I’ve noticed more than one of the young guys looking her way admiringly. Even clad in cornflower-blue shorts and a white sleeveless linen blouse, wearing simple sandals, Ofelia is breathtakingly beautiful.

It’s as if she knows their life isn’t for her,I think sadly. I know how that feels. As ever, I hate that she is experiencing the same detached solitude I did as a teenager. Then I think of Roman promising he will reconsider her schooling options, and my heart lifts a little.Maybe I can make it different for her.

But all of that depends on if this strange life I’m living will become something permanent.

I can’t tell.

It’s all happening so quickly, and there’s been so little time to discuss anything, even if Roman actually wants to, which I’m entirely unsure about. In another week the children will be back at school. Perhaps things might settle down a little then.

Or perhaps the Orlovs will come before that.

I push that firmly out of my mind.

“Luce!” Abby emerges from the crowd to stand by Dimitry, waving frantically at me.

I wince at her use of my name, but give her a small wave back. A frowning Dimitry says something in her ear, and she quickly lowers her hand and looks around nervously. I hate this, that even my friends have to worry about simply greeting me in public. At the same time, I can’t help but notice how close she stands to Dimitry, and how he angles his body to include her in his circle of protection.

I’m glad.

I like Dimitry, and IloveAbby. Whatever is going on between them, I hope they’re getting to a good place.

Abby leans forward and says something to Ofelia, who returns her smile shyly after getting a nod of approval from Dimitry. The two girls walk together by the float, Abby making Ofelia and Masha laugh by trying to imitate the cactus dance. The parade is entering the wide-open plaza that is the finish point, the floats taking up their positions in a square at the edges. Balloon sellers and food vans vie with street performers in a mad clash of color and hilarity. Our float finds its way to its marked spot at the far corner, and the teacher, the other parents, and I lift the excited kids down one by one. I still can’t see Roman anywhere. I’m starting to feel uneasy, despite the legion of men in dark glasses standing in loose formation at a careful distance.

“I need to pee,” Masha announces, loud enough to make one of the other cacti nearby giggle.

“Okay.” I take hold of her hand and turn to Dimitry.

“There are portables set up over there.” He nods toward the edge of the square. “We’ll come with you. I’ve got men on Mickey.” We set off through the thronging crowds, Abby and me on either side of Ofelia and Masha, with the men in glasses spread out around us. There’s still no sign of Roman. We reach the restroom trailer, and Ofelia screws up her nose.

“I’m good, thanks,” she says. “I’ll wait out here with Abby.”

“I’ve gotcha, girlfriend.” Abby grins at her. “Wait until you start going to music festivals. Believe me, these are luxury by comparison.”

“Don’t even start on those stories,” I warn her, seeing Ofelia’s eyes light up with interest. “Music festivals are a hard no. For at least a few years.”

“Ha. Just because you have no life.” Abby winks at Ofelia. “I’ll wait until she’s inside to tell you about the time I...”

She’s incorrigible. Shaking my head and laughing, I head Masha toward the trailer stairs. One of the security guys has a look inside, but backs off hastily when he’s met with an indignant chorus of female protest.

“We’ll be fine,” I assure him, walking Masha up the stairs.

We survive the queue, during which Masha’s hopping from one leg to another grows more urgent. I unbutton her costume in preparation, sighing with relief when we finally get an empty cubicle. Afterward, we emerge and stand by the row of sinks as Masha washes her hands and I button her back up again.

“Darya.”

I momentarily freeze at the low male voice, then force myself to slowly begin buttoning again, my fingers not quite steady. I’m only just aware of the tall figure immediately to my left, completely concealed within a purple dinosaur costume.

“Don’t run. I can help you get a message to Alexei. He’s here, you know. In Spain.”

I keep my head down, not reacting at all. I know the voice; it’s the same paparazzi journalist who was chasing me outside the café. The fact that he knows my name, and my brother’s, is terrifying. But there’s no chance in hell I’m making this worse by playing into his game.

“Luce.” Masha stares at the dinosaur with a confused expression. “Dino talkin’.”

“Not to us, darling.” I stand up, her hand firmly gripped in mine. For a moment I consider exposing the dinosaur as a man, but that will only create a panic, which might be exactly what he wants. Better that I ignore him entirely.

“You should talk to me, Darya. You’re trusting the wrong people—”

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