Page 22 of Vengeful Embers

He leads me to a waiting car, sleek and quiet. I expect to be taken home, but we stop in front of the Diamond Hotel.

“What are we doing here?” I ask.

“You’re staying here tonight.”

I blink. “Gavriil?—”

“It’s for the best,” he says firmly. “Just in case something happens. We don’t want your family asking questions. We’ve taken a suite upstairs. I’ll stay too. Just to make sure you’re okay.”

The suite is beautiful, warm, and welcoming. A plush sofa. Soft lighting. The kind of place where secrets feel safe.

That night, we eat takeout and watch game shows, laughing like idiots and yelling answers at the screen. It’s easy, familiar, comforting.

But somewhere during a rerun of Jeopardy, I feel my body growing heavier. Drowsy.

“You’ve had a hell of a day,” Gavriil says as I fight to keep my eyes open.

“I’ll just rest my eyes,” I murmur.

When I wake, it’s just past five in the morning. Light peeks through the curtains. I’m in bed. Tucked in. My sweater and jeans are gone. Leaving me in a T-shirt and panties. My mouth feels dry, and my limbs ache in that soft, pleasant way that comes from good sleep.

I get up, pull on my jeans, sweater, and sneakers. I find Gavriil in the living room.

“Did you undress me last night?” I look at him accusingly.

“You’re awake,” Gavriil says, seated near the window, sipping coffee. “No, that would be the housekeeper I called to help me. You were out for the count, and I know how much you hate sleeping in your jeans.”

“Thank you.” I grab a cup of coffee.

“No.” Gavriil is out of his chair at an astonishing speed, taking the cup from my hand and replacing it with a cup of herbal tea he pours. “This is for you.” He gives me a toothy grin. “No more coffee for you.”

“Awesome.” I sigh and sip the tea. It’s not bad but it’s tea and I suppress a shudder.

“Did you sleep well?” he asks, his eyes following me as I put the hardly touched tea on the table.

“Yeah.” I rub my eyes. “How did I get into bed?”

“You passed out,” he says. “I carried you.”

“Thank you,” I say and smile. “You and Irina have been great. But I need to get home.”

“I’ll call a car to take you,” Gavriil tells me, and does just that.

Ten minutes later, we’re standing by the town car.

I hug him and kiss his cheek. “Thank you for a wonderful evening.”

He catches my hand. “Thank you, Tara. You have no idea what you are doing for us.”

There’s something in his eyes. A flicker of guilt.

“Don’t do that,” I say. “Don’t feel guilty for asking me to do this for you and Irina.”

He nods and gives me a tight smile. “I’m just sorry I’ve entangled you in this.”

The words give me pause as my eyes search his. “I would do anything for you and Irina. You are my best friends.”

“You know I love you, right?” he says, softly, his eyes darkening with emotion. “And that we’d never do anything to harm you.”

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