Page 24 of One For my Enemy

LEV:good

LEV:personally I like the prospect of rendering you speechless

II. 6

(Seeings.)

“Is everything arranged, Masha?” Yaga asked, and Marya nodded.

“All set, Mama. The dealer and I have agreed on a time and place, and I’ve arranged for Ivan to be with Sasha, so she’ll be safe.”

“And you, in the meantime?” Yaga asked, arching a brow.

“I thought I might keep an eye on the Fedorov brothers. See to it they’re no longer cheating us out of our profits.”

Yaga’s glance sharpened, doubtful. The single silver streak in her black hair seemed especially bright, flashing in the light that slid in through the window.

“I thought the matter of the Fedorovs was dealt with for the time being,” she remarked in a low voice, and in the same thread, “Perhaps I should have sent someone else.”

“No, Mama,” Marya said firmly. “The Bridge is my informant. Koschei and the Fedorovs are my problem.”

“And are they still a problem?”

The correct answer was no, Marya knew, but she had always been too careful to settle for absolutes. “If they are, whatever threat they present is limited. Dimitri is—” She cleared her throat. “My sources tell me Dimitri is unconscious. In a coma. He’s the one who set off the thief’s curse,” she added, “so he’s the traitor. The other two are probably not involved, but if they are…”

Yaga arched a brow, expectant.

“I’ll kill them,” Marya confirmed without pause, and Yaga nodded, unsurprised. “If they cross us again, I won’t leave a body behind this time, Mama, I promise you.”

“I know you wouldn’t.” Yaga rose to her feet, cupping Marya’s cheek in her hand and taking a long, discerning look at her. “You are my daughter, my Marya, a piece of me. You don’t make mistakes.”

“Never,” Marya promised, and Yaga nodded absently, still scrutinizing her face.

“You look tired, Masha,” she murmured, and Marya shifted uneasily, hearing something strange and distant in her mother’s voice. “Are you not sleeping well?”

“I’m fine, Mama,” Marya assured her. “There’s simply a lot of work to be done.” She paused, adding, “The Bridge has proven himself loyal, at least in this respect,” though perhaps ‘conditionally reliable’ would have been a better word for her informant. Either way, it didn’t seem to be worth clarifying at the moment.

Yaga, however, remained unconvinced. “Why don’t you let Stas have a night to himself, Masha? And let me have my daughter. Let me watch over you, Mashenka, just for a night. Okay?”

“Mama, I’m not a little girl any longer,” Marya reminded her. “It’s been a long time since I’ve slept in your house. Is something bothering you?” she asked, and hesitated before adding, “Have you seen something?”

Yaga paused for a moment, and then, carefully, she smiled.

“No, nothing, nothing,” she assured Marya, abruptly releasing her. “Just consider giving an old woman some company, would you?”

At that, Marya laughed. “You’re not even fifty, Mama. You’re hardly old.”

“Don’t sass me, Masha. If I say I’m old, then I’m old.”

“Okay, Mama,” Marya permitted drily, turning to the door. “You’re very, very old, then.”

“That’s better. I love you, Masha,” Yaga called to her, catching her just before she left. “I love you, your sisters love you, your husband loves you—”

“I know this, Mama,” Marya said, waving a hand without turning. “Yes, yes, I know—”

“Masha. You do not need Dima,” Yaga warned, and at that, Marya’s heart stuttered and skipped, convulsing in her chest as she paused in the doorway.

“Yes, Mama,” she agreed carefully, and then she slipped out, shutting the door quietly behind her.

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