Page 192 of Golden Eagle

“What,” he asked, very slowly and loudly, “does Gustav want with Alexei Romanov?”

Dr. Severin – his teacher, his favorite – swallowed a few times, throat jumping; sweat gleamed on his forehead, reflecting the orange glow of the fire. Finally, in a rush, he said, “Gustav still holds a grudge against the Romanov family. He served the Kaiser in Germany, back when Nicholas refused to cave to Wilhelm’s wishes. It all goes back to WWI – it’s very personal for him. He’s offered to help further the Institute’s objectives toward our own war…so long as we allow him revenge against the last Romanov.”

Seven stared at him, flames leaping, trying to understand. “You would allow it? Revenge?” he asked.

“It’s the only payment he wanted. And you –you, Seven. You hate Nikita Baskin for the murder of your little brother. How is it any different?”

“Why did he murder him?”

Dr. Severin wet his lips.

“Why?”

“Because we had custody of his wolf. It shouldn’t matter,” he added, “they aren’t even bound. You have to understand: we only do what’s necessary. Only that.”

Seven stared at him, at the sweat rolling down the sides of his face. He opened his hand wider, fingers flexing, and an additional point of flame erupted from each fingertip. Watched Dr. Severin’s pupils shrink down to pinpricks in the flare of so much orange light.

“If I wanted to leave here, would you let me?”

Dr. Severin made a choking sound. “You know I can’t,” he said, just a whisper.

Seven nodded. He turned his wrist, so his palm faced his teacher, and the flames leapt.

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