Page 107 of Red Rooster

“Said you take the weight of the world on your shoulders…and then a little more after that. That you think everything that goes wrong is your fault somehow.”

“Isn’t it?” Nikita asked, only half-joking.

Kolya tipped his head to the side, growing serious. “I’m sorry about Sasha.”

Nikita looked away with a disgusted sound. “Why does everyone keep saying that? Do you all think he’s already dead?” Through the numbness, his stomach gave a painful twist.Oh, God, please no, please no–Before he cut it off and let the last bit of frost close over him.

“No. Sasha killed Rasputin and Monsieur Philippe all by himself. I have to think he’s only gotten stronger since then. I don’t think he’s dead,” he said. “I’m sorry because I think that rescuing him is going to damage you. I think it probably already is.”

Nikita snapped a sharp look toward him, searching for the lie.

Kolya stared back, sympathetic. “The people who took him from you will wish they hadn’t by the time you’re done with them.”

Nikita felt a cruel, humorless smile steal across his face. “Are you sorry for that, too?” he asked, mocking.

“No. Never for them.”

“I’ll burn that place to the ground,” Nikita said, hand tightening on the bell until his hand ached, growl threading through his words.

“I figured,” Kolya said. “I wish you luck.”

~*~

“I think that went well, don’t you?” Dottie asked, pulling teacups down from their shelf in the kitchen.

Trina accepted them from her and arranged them on a tray. “Well?” She noted the way her grandmother’s hands shook, teacups chinking together. “Is that what you’d call it?”

Dottie pursed her lips, determined. “Yes.”

“There was a Romanian prince in your living room, Grams. It’s okay to be freaked out about it.”

More cups came down.

But when Trina had them all lined up on the tray, Dottie gripped the edge of the counter hard, skin parchment-thin over the bones of her knuckles.

“I’ve hosted more séances than I can count,” she said, softly, gaze trained on the backsplash. “There have been a few times that – there were…murmurings. Voices. Once it felt like someone touched my arm.” She smoothed a hand down the sleeve of her dress. “But I never–”

She turned to face Trina, eyes wide, full of wonder. “Have you ever believed in something for so long, and then, suddenly, you have proof?”

Trina smiled gently at her. “Maybe. I’m not sure.”

Dottie sighed. “I feel like a girl again.” She shook her head, smile dreamy, and then sobered. “But you have to tell me.” She opened up the tin on the counter and started plucking out tea bags. “What’s going on with you and Lanny?”

Trina groaned and laughed with surprise. “Grams. Bigger fish to fry.”

“No, no, no. I know you – you can multitask.”

“That’s not important right now.”

Dottie paused to give her a sharp look. “Trina. You’ve been pining away for him for years now. The man shows up here as avampire, and you think there’s bigger fish to fry? Try again.”

Before Trina could answer, the back door opened and her mom poked her head in. “Knock-knock,” Rachel called, stepping in with a cling-film-covered plate propped on one hip. “I brought cookies.”

“Good,” Dottie said. “Trina was just about to tell us what’s been going on with her and Lanny.”

Trina groaned again, louder this time.

“Why do you think I brought cookies?” Rachel asked, setting them on the counter. “How’d the séance go, but the way?”

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