Page 54 of One For my Enemy

She stopped herself with a grimace, possibly having realized that ‘dispatched’ was not a word Lev would take kindly to.

“No, he hasn’t,” Lev shouted to Roman, sparing Sasha a pleading glance. “What’s so important it can’t wait until I’m dressed, Roma?”

“Is that all this is?” Roman asked through the door, unimpressed. “I’ve seen your dick before, Lev, and I have no interest in it. We need to discuss the plan for tonight now, before Dima tries to interfere—”

“Why would he interfere?” Lev and Sasha asked in unison, and he glared at her again.

“Go,”he hissed, “seriously—”

“The game is changing, Lev,” Roman said, and then slammed a fist against the door, startling Lev and Sasha both as she slid her jeans over her hips. “And you and I need to—” He let out a growl of impatience. “Will youlet me in,fuck—”

Go,Lev mouthed urgently, as Sasha pressed her lips to his, kissing his apprehension away. She rested her hand on his still-bare chest, digging her nails in briefly, and then stepped back, swallowing. She tilted her head—giving him one final, searching look, memorizing him where she stood—and rippled in the air, disappearing just as Roman shoved the door open, bursting through Lev’s flimsy ward.

“Jesus,” Roman said, eyeing the disarray that had been his blissful night with Sasha. “What happened here?”

“What’s the problem with Dima?” Lev asked without reply, reaching for a t-shirt and pulling it gruffly over his head. “I don’t understand. What is it you want taken care of?”

“Marya’s dead, Lev,” Roman said, his gaze distinctly wild. “But we—I—still need an Antonova witch. The deal won’t be canceled, I’m sure it won’t, which means Yaga will send someone else in her place. Someone Marya’s equal, which is precisely what we need—”

“For what?” Lev demanded. “Can’t we just… can’t we let thisgo,” he growled, pleading mournfully with his brother. “I understand your anger, Roma, but Dima’s alive—Dima’salive,Marya’s dead, and isn’t that enough? Can’t we just—can’t we—”

“Lev.” Roman leapt forward, mouth stiff. “You’re my brother. You know I wouldn’t ask you for anything unless it were dire. Tell me you know that.”

Lev blinked. “I do know that, Roma, but—”

“Lev. Please.”

“I just want to knowwhy,Roma—”

“I’ve cared for you, Levka. I’ve protected you, your entire life. I’ve never wronged you,” Roman protested, “have I?”

Lev stared, breathless, as ‘dire’ clearly began to personify in Roman. “You haven’t,” he conceded gruffly, and Roman nodded, visibly relieved.

“So you’ll help me, then?” Roman asked, his grip tight on Lev’s arm. “Are you with me?”

Lev blinked.

“Of course,” he said, knowing it was true and wondering if he wouldn’t soon come to regret it.

III. 6

(Transference.)

Is it too soon to love you, Sasha?Lev had asked her the night before, holding her in his arms between episodes of reprehensible choices; between equally inadvisable and undeniable moments of passion, all of which would surely haunt her for the rest of her life.

Absolutely too soon,she’d murmured back, drumming her fingers against his shoulder. She’d felt him smile into her hair and then she’d buried her face in his chest, opting not to add the truth: that he had brought her down with him.

Still, her feelings aside, it was difficult not to think about what she’d heard while his brother had been breaking down his door. She’d known it was a Fedorov who’d killed her sister, but she’d wanted to believe, somehow, that it had been Koschei himself; that the villain she’d grown up fearing had spirited her sister away, precisely like the demon he was, rather than Lev or his brothers. Not someone so close to her own age, or to her own circumstance; someone who had barged into Lev’s bedroom like one of her own sisters would do to her.

If I lost my brother,Lev had said,I would chase his soul to the end of the world.

At the memory, Sasha felt foolish; felt chilled and humiliated at the reminder that when Lev had found her—when her life had collided with his—he had already lost his brother, or narrowly escaped losing him by fortuity alone. He must have been seeking revenge then, just as she was now. The Fedorovs had acted against her family once, and he’d said himself not to trust him, hadn’t he?

Lev himself had said it:I’m your enemy in the morning.

She’d said they could check their secrets at the door, but was it actually possible?Not Lev,she’d thought the moment she heard where her sister had died,never Lev,but wasn’t he somehow complicit? Wasn’tshecomplicit, too, where it came to the actions of her mother? Of her sisters? Of what would become her own crime, soon enough?

The thoughts pounded into Sasha’s head as she returned home, finding a stranger in her room.

---