Page 59 of One For my Enemy

“I do know,” Dimitri said, gesturing for him to sit again. “I know the measure of your worth, Lev. I take pride in it every day.”

Lev slowly sank into the chair beside Dimitri, conceding to take a seat.

“Do you think I’m failing our family?” he asked, voice low. “With my hesitation, I mean. I know it’s not—” He grimaced. “It’s not Papa’s favorite trait.”

“No, it isn’t, but this isn’t hesitation, Lev. You have convictions.” Dimitri’s glance slid over Lev’s face, scrutinizing him. “You’ve met an Antonova witch,” Dimitri recalled at a murmur, and Lev sat stiffly, unmoving. “They’re very beautiful,” Dimitri remarked, musing it to empty air. “Intelligent. Powerful. Any one of Yaga’s daughters would be enough to change any man’s mind, I’d guess—”

“It’s not that,” Lev insisted, and then Dimitri laughed his royal laugh, holding his hand to the bandage at his chest until he’d quieted, slowly shaking his head.

“I can’t tell you who to side with,” Dimitri said, “but I can tell you a bit of what I know. Roma is—” He toyed with his words, scraping a hand warily over the fine blond hairs he hadn’t yet shaved from his cheeks. “Roma is weakened,” Dimitri finally determined, and at Lev’s frown, he shook his head, warning Lev to silence. “It’s not my information to tell. But he’s making desperate choices,” Dimitri clarified. “He’s facing life like a desperate man, and reason is far, far gone from him.”

“So I should protect him, then?”

Dimitri shook his head. “You should do what you believe is right,” he said. “If your instincts tell you this bad blood between our family and Yaga’s isn’t worthy of the costs—and be warned, our lives, or yours, may very well be the price,” he added, sobering slightly, “then you are responsible for upholding your own convictions. You’re beholden to them first.”

“I thought we were Fedorov sons first,” Lev said, and again, Dimitri shook his head.

“What does it mean to be a Fedorov son if we destroy ourselves in the process?” Dimitri asked, and his expression was nothing Lev had ever seen on his face before. “What does it mean to be this family or that, if loss is the only thing that comes from it?”

Lev chewed his lip. “But Dima—”

“If an Antonova witch challenges Roma, he’ll die,” Dimitri said flatly. “He can’t defend himself, and even if he could, his survival would hardly be a guarantee. Roma knows it,” he added, glancing at Lev again, “and now you do, too.”

He rose to his feet, abruptly turning away, and Lev leapt after him.

“But Dima—”

“I love my brother,” Dimitri said fiercely, rounding on Lev as if he’d tried to contradict him. “I love him. I’ve protected him, I’ve fought for him, I’ve stood by him, without fail—”

Lev flinched, recognizing the words Roman had said to him only a matter of hours ago. “Dima, is everything—”

“I hope you never have to know what bearing our name has cost me,” Dimitri said, his voice low and sharp. “Whatever choices you make, Lev, just be sure you can live with them.”

It seemed Dimitri’s mind was full of secrets, and the door to the vault was rapidly falling shut. Lev let him go, watching his brother slip back into his thoughts.

“I’m sorry,” he said, though he didn’t know why he said it.

By then, Dimitri was no longer listening.

III. 10

(The Deal is On.)

“Tell me you have something,” Roman said, barging into Bryn’s office. “Bridge, if you want my debt paid, then I need this.”

Bryn held up a finger, calling for pause before marking the page in his book, only subsequently consenting to glance up at Roman. “Hm? Oh, that, yes. Right,” Bryn confirmed, “I do have something, yes. As it turns out, the deal is on.”

Roman scowled. “And it didn’t occur to you to contact me?”

“No. But nor did it occur toyou,” Bryn pronounced, displeased, “to mention tomethat you already killed Marya Antonova, who as you might recall was my source up until today.”

“Who is it now?” Roman demanded.

“Does it matter? So Marya Antonova has a successor, so what. So does your brother Dimitri,” Bryn noted, gesturing unflatteringly to where Roman stood. “When a witch dies, it isn’t as if time stops, Roman.”

Roman rolled his eyes. “Are you going to tell me where the deal is happening, Bridge, or do I have to jump through hoops to get it from you?”

“You know, I hate to point out the obvious,” Bryn replied in a way that indicated very much the opposite, “but none of this would be necessary if you had just given me Marya Antonova’s magic, as youvery specificallypromised.”