Page 206 of Golden Eagle

The faint color in Dante’s cheeks bled away, leaving him nearly as white as the shirt he wore. He looked…

He looked like Alexei had felt, all those decades ago, when the Chekists had barked at them to stay where they were, and then lifted their guns. When he’d realized that they were all about to die: a fear that couldn’t be borne, one the stripped away all reason and self-preservation.

In that moment, it didn’t matter that Dante had betrayed him, that Alexei hated him; he wanted to lift him up and carry him away from this moment, shield him bodily, and hiss a warning to Gustav. The things they’d done to him…those few glimpses…

The black field of stars again, a dizzy spin, and Alexei was back at Colette’s table, breathing raggedly through his mouth as if he’d just sprinted a long way, nauseated and off-balance and furious, and hurting. When he blinked his gaze clear, he was staring at his own hand, curled into a tight fist, Dante’s resting over the back of it, trembling faintly. Alexei had no idea which one of them was shaking – maybe both.

He lifted his head, and sought Dante’s gaze, hoping to catch a flicker of doubt, of guilt, some trace of a lie.

But Dante gazed at him steadily, his expression as raw and cracked-open as Alexei had ever seen it. Eyes red and wet, mouth twitching in a shaky semblance of a smile that was affectionate, and sad, and embarrassed. He looked nothing like the Dante he’d first met at Nameless, sharp and smirking and looking for a good time. That Dante he could have handled, could have turned away.

But not this one.

He had to wet his lips before he could speak. “How long did they keep you?”

“Until about six months ago.”

Almost four years, then. Four years of testing, of torture; of being injected with human diseases and flayed alive in the name of science.

Alexei swallowed.

“I’m so sorry, Lex.Your grace.” Dante’s breathing hitched. “It was my only way out, and I took it.”

“I know.” Alexei turned his hand over, and when Dante started to draw back, thinking he was being shaken off, Alexei laced their fingers together, and squeezed tight.

Dante squeezed back.

~*~

“I’m not the sort of dream-walker that His Grace Prince Valerian is,” Dante said a few minutes later. He sat on Alexei’s other side at the table, breathing in the fragrant steam from a mug of tea, visibly more relaxed now, though his face was still drawn with lines of tension. Occasionally, he’d rake a hand through his hair, mussing it further, so it curled softly on his shoulders. “I’m not that strong. Most of the time, when I go visiting, I fail to take a visible shape.”

“So no one sees you,” Nikita said, unnerved by the idea. Doubtless Val could hide himself too, if he chose, but was too vain – (lonely, Nik knew, truthfully) – to keep to shadows and dark patches. He always announced himself with great fanfare, and a toss of his golden hair.

“Not generally, no. And I can share my past with others” – he tipped his head toward Alexei – “but I’ve never been able to link the consciousnesses of two other people, the way Valerian did for you and Trina.”

“You told him about that?” Nikita asked Alexei.

The tsarevich – Nikita wasn’t going to call himtsar, not even in his own head – nodded primly, unapologetic. “I don’t believe in keeping secrets anymore, not between us.”

Nikita snorted.

Again, Alexei didn’t take the bait. “If we’re going to be pack…”

“And you thinkhecounts as pack?”

“I wouldn’t presume–” Dante began, gaze dropping.

But Alexei said, “He does.” To Dante: “Continue, please.”

Dante glanced between them, and took a small sip of tea, uncertain. “There are advantages to being more or less invisible, though.”

“Yeah, ya think?” Lanny said, and was ignored.

“I was able to look in on Gustav. And, when I touched him, I was able to slip into his thoughts.”

“You read minds?” Trina asked, alarmed.

“I can read lies,” he said. “It requires a physical touch, and a considerable mental effort on my part, but I can divine someone’s true intentions. Suffice to say, I’ve been acquainted with Gustav long enough to understand his true motives.”

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