Page 86 of One For my Enemy

“Well?” Marya said, leaning against the door as Raphael looked up, glaring.

“He’s looking for you,” he said irritably.

“Yes, I gathered,” Marya said, “but you know I’m not here about that.”

Raphael scowled, apprehensive. “The money’s in my desk drawer.”

“Then go fetch,” she advised, and Raphael struggled to his feet, snatching the money from his desk and shoving it into her hands.

“There,” he said. “Everything you asked for.Plusthe secret.”

“Good boy,” Marya said, patting his head. “Well, you can keep the money. I hardly need it.”

She turned to leave and Raphael, gaping at her back, managed to stumble forward, gripping her arm. “Why are you doing this, then?” he demanded, gritting it through his teeth.

She flicked his hand away like a fly.

“You’re an important resource, Santos,” she reminded him. “Don’t belittle yourself.”

“I don’t work for you,” he spat, and she shrugged.

“We’ll see,” she replied. “What will you be giving Koschei?”

He hesitated, frowning. “I thought you weren’t interested in creatures.”

“You misjudge my interests,” she informed him, and paused, considering it. “Keep a log,” she suggested after a moment. “I’ll come back for it next week.”

“Marya,” he said, blinking. “That’s—if he knew I’d given it to you—”

“Yes?” she prompted.

“He could ruin me,” he choked out, and she tilted her head.

“Could he?” she mused. “And here I thought I was the one who would be ruining you if you didn’t do as I asked.”

He flinched. “Marya—”

“Oh, don’t worry,” she assured him, patting his cheek roughly. “You’re useful to me, Santos. I have no reason to throw you to Koschei’s mercy. By the way, how’s your wife?” she asked. “Is the serum I gave her working?”

Raphael swallowed hard, and then nodded. “Yes. She’s much better.”

“Good, good,” Marya said. “Next week, then.”

She released him, turning to leave, and Raphael called after her, desperate.

“What about Dimitri Fedorov?”

Marya glanced briefly over her shoulder.

“What about him?” she said, before disappearing from sight.

IV. 7

(Taking Inventory.)

Roman had been discussing a minor issue of flagging income with his father while waiting for Dimitri when the latter finally entered the room.

“Dima,” Roman said, calling hesitantly to his brother. “Where’ve you been?”

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