Page 182 of Pervade London
She looked back, offering me a thin smile. “You don’t get to say no.”
My uncertainty rising, I clutched the neck of my violin, my bow’s strings burning red lines into my palm.
“You warned me earlier,” I whispered. “Why?’
“It’s too late now.”
Oh, God.Could they know about me and James?
We entered a dark room.
The rich scent of cigar smoke hung in the air, filling the space of the small cabin. I noticed a spiral of white smoke rising out of the far corner, and the figure of a man who was cloaked in shadows, only the tip of his expensive brogues revealed in the dimness.
A shudder of cold slithered up my spine as I realized Diana was leaving.
The door snapped closed behind her.
“????? ?? ????, ????????? ???????,” he said, his voice a low whisper.
“I don’t know what that means,” I admitted, straining to see his face.
His hand swept towards me, revealing the cigar he held, its smoke snaking closer.
“Signora Zane said that you want me to play for you?” I wrinkled my nose at the unpleasant scent in the air.
He didn’t answer.
“Modern or classic?” I offered.
His voice sounded like sandpaper when he spoke. “? ??????? ???????, ??? ? ???????? ????, ? ???????? ? ????.”
“Okay, modern it is.” I raised my bow.
The violin sang out its revolt. “The Devil Went Down to Georgia” seemed like the perfect offering for this mysterious and arrogant asshole. I dragged my bow across the strings to reveal the high notes of this rebellious song, letting him hear proof that I’d sensed his cruelty, his dangerousness, his foreign power. The reckless notes flowed and danced around us.
Xavier didn’t know I was here.
Neither did James.
Nor Penn-Rhodes. Or any of my friends. Only Diana, who had told me to leave.
I’d ignored her advice—a terrible mistake.
My only anchor to these dreaded moments was my bow sweeping the strings to express my outrage that this man had demanded I play. I wouldn’t have cared if he was the leader of Russia itself. This talent was mine to give to those worthy of hearing it—not those who demanded or threatened or intimidated.
This may be the lion’s den, but I was a lioness.
Afterward, breathing heavily from my physical performance, I glared at him through the smoke.
I heard the hiss as his cigar was snuffed out.
Silence fell over the room as the last wisp of smoke faded away. The man uncrossed his legs and rose to his feet.
My chin lifted in defiance.
He strolled out of the shadows, taking the few short steps needed to remove my violin and bow and carry them over to the side table where he gently placed them down.
Oh, God.
