Page 57 of Dark Embers

“You watch your fucking mouth,” I growl in Russian. “That’s my partner you’re talking about. I don’t care who your family is—you disrespect her again, and I’ll let Gunner give you a demonstration of his father’s training.”

The man stiffens, but he doesn’t cower. “Do what you will. You’ll regret it. You’re not in any position to lay a hand on us anymore.”

His eyes slide to Sabrina again, this time filled with amusement.

“What do you want with Tara Craft?” I snap.

His face twists into something darker. “My sister’s son.”

I freeze. “What?”

“In my fucking closet?” Sabrina’s voice cuts in from behind me. Fluent Russian. Sharp and steady.

The man’s eyes move toward her, caught off guard that she understood every word he said. So am I, but not because of her perfect Russian, but because I never even heard her move.

“Sabrina, step back,” I say, keeping my tone low.

She holds her ground but gives the man some distance. “Why would your sister’s child be hiding in my apartment?”

“We were looking for evidence,” the man says. “But that’s all you’ll get from me until we speak with your mother.”

“Why my mother?” Sabrina presses. “What does she have to do with your sister’s kid? And where is your sister?”

He stares at her like she’s a fool. I tighten my grip on his shirt again.

“Answer her,” I demand.

“She’s dead,” he says coldly, his gaze returning to Sabrina. “Because of your sister.”

“Who are you?” Sabrina’s eyes flicker with confusion and hurt. “What the hell are you talking about?”

I let go of him just enough to say, “Sabrina… this is Kirill Voronina. One of Irina’s brothers.”

She goes still. “Then... that means... you can’t hurt him.”

“No,” I admit. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t.”

Her gaze returns to Kirill. “My sister had nothing to do with Irina’s death. And why would she take your sister’s son?” her brow furrows deeper. “Gavriil and Irina didn’t have children.”

“Yes, they did,” Kirill snaps. “A boy. Born shortly before they died.”

My blood runs cold. That’s not possible. We would’ve known.

“Why would Tara take him?” Sabrina murmurs, more to herself. “To protect him perhaps?”

“To protect him?” Kirill snarls. “More like for leverage or because she wanted him for herself. Gavriil and Irina’s child is very valuable.”

“My brother didn’t have a child,” I hiss. “You’re lying.”

“You’re the ones who were chasing her in New York, weren’t you?” Sabrina suddenly accuses as if it just dawned on her, her voice low and certain. “You shot Clyde.”

He says nothing. Doesn’t need to. His silence is confirmation.

“Where’s my sister?” she demands.

“Where’s your mother?” he counters.

“She’s not here. She won’t be for a while.”

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