Page 79 of One For my Enemy

Who would want ownership of The Bridge’s loyalty?

Only one person came to mind, however unlikely.

“How can I find Marya Antonova?” Dimitri asked, abruptly falling to a halt.

“How does anyone find Marya Antonova?” Bryn replied, shrugging.

They don’t, Dimitri thought. She finds you.

“Go home, little prince,” Bryn suggested. “Come find me again when you’ve had a change of…”

He trailed off.

“Heart,” he finished, tilting his head, and Dimitri didn’t answer.

He turned, heading for the door, and didn’t look back.

IV. 2

(Strings.)

In Dimitri’s absence, Marya flickered into being in The Bridge’s living room. She strode forward, picking up Dimitri’s glass and sniffing it.

“Glad to see you’re capable of remaining true to our deal, for a change,” Marya noted, not looking at Bryn. She seemed intent on the contents of Dimitri’s glass, which Bryn could have easily told her was nothing particularly remarkable. Fairy whisky was sweeter than her tastes; lacked a certain bite. “Or true to anything, that is.”

“You know I like you, Marya,” Bryn reminded her, watching her take Dimitri’s seat on the sofa. “And you chose well. I want Koschei brought down as badly as you do.”

“Even after he gave you what you wanted?”

“He gave me something he could stand to part with,” Bryn scoffed, “which isn’t precisely what I wanted. What I want belongs to you.”

“I don’t have it,” she reminded him, drawing her dress aside. The slice at her chest was stark and jagged, morbidly lovely, though Bryn might have been more aroused by the exposure if he could have managed to be anything outside of mortally curious what lay beneath. “You already know it’s gone.”

He did, unfortunately. It was rather a disappointment, though it made for a very different Marya Antonova indeed, and he wasn’t totally sure he was opposed to the change.

“What exactly is your goal in this, Marya?” Bryn asked her. “Most people who wander back to life don’t usually waste time with elaborate vengeance plots. Certainly not when you could kill Roman now and be done with it. He’s weaker than he’s ever been, don’t you think?”

“Roma is the least of my concerns,” Marya scoffed.

“And your mother?” Bryn asked. “Her hands are hardly clean. She made a duplicitous deal with Koschei, didn’t she?”

“To save her child,” Marya snapped. “A forgivable lie.”

“A lie nonetheless,” Bryn said.

“My mother would never lie to me,” Marya said. “Be wiser with your battles, Bridge. Or at least bring sharper knives.”

“Where’s your sister now, then?”

“Busy,” Marya said, “and more importantly, none of your business.”

She drained the rest of Dimitri’s glass, rising to her feet.

“So. You’ll keep our secret?” she prompted.

This time, the terms of the deal were painfully simple. He would not betray Marya Antonova, and in return, he would not have her for an enemy.

“I will,” Bryn said.

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