Page 14 of Dance with Death

How will I find her?

What the fuck do I do?

“Don’t do this.” I stare Nikolai down, begging unashamedly. “Don’t do this to her. You know what will happen to her if you let him take her. Don’t do this. I know you don’t hate her as much as you say you do.”

“Shut your mouth,mal’chik, or I’ll shut it for you,” he growls, but he can’t maintain eye contact with me.

He knows what he’s doing, what he’s done.

Fuck, it’s done.

Anya has shifted to all fours on the floor and her head hangs in defeat. Vigo crosses to her, crouches down to his haunches in front of her, and lifts her chin with his fingers.

“Tell me who you are now,schiava.”

I don’t know any Italian, but it doesn’t take a genius to figure out what he’s calling her.

Slave.

Just the same as Nikolai.

Anya’s voice is a whisper, but it doesn’t waver. “I am slave to the Vittori family. I am your belonging.”

Nikolai slams the drawer shut on his desk after returning the pen, a reverberation of wood smashing against wood. For a moment, his eyes are hazy, conflicted, and his shoulders slump, unnaturally heavy. Then he straightens, lifting his chin with a snap, and storms to the door.

“You may go,” he tells Kostya as he passes. “Leave Ezra here. I’ll return for him when I feel like it. Anya is Vigo’s concern now.”

He flings the door open and breezes past. Kostya follows him out and the door slams shut behind them.

“No need to be sad, my Russian doll.” Vigo tilts his head as he strokes Anya’s hair. “We will have fun together. Just you wait and see. Go and say goodbye to your pet before we leave. I’m afraid you won’t be seeing him again for quite some time.”

Her back rises with a sharp inhale but otherwise, she remains still.

“Go on, my doll.” He pushes to his feet and circles around behind her, a predator eyeing his prey. “Crawl to him…unless you want to learn what happens when you make me wait.”

Anya moves forward, carefully dragging her injured foot as she crawls to me across the carpet. When she reaches me, there’s a pause, an eerie stillness of uncertainty. Then, Vigo puts his shoe on the back of her swollen ankle. I don’t know how she managed to squeeze her unusually wide foot into her sneaker or pull on the tight jeans she’s wearing. Her eyes widen as she registers a fresh round of pain.

He presses down slowly and I’m chomping at the bit. “Get your fucking foot off her,” I growl.

He grins. “Your infatuation with each other is quite perfect, you know.” He removes his foot and crouches beside the both of us. “I will always have leverage with you because you both went and fell in love. Give me your sadness, hmm? Have one last moment together, a treasured, tragic goodbye that will torture both your minds late into the night.” His smirk is devious and he stands suddenly. “Up,schiava. Climb onto his lap and don’t keep me fucking waiting.”

Anya’s head drops for a beat, but she lifts it again just as quickly. She slowly places her hands on my knees, one and then the other. Sliding her slender fingers forward for purchase, she pushes hard through my thighs to carefully bring herself to stand.

Somehow, she manages to spread her legs and straddle me, settling on my thighs. She always did have impeccable balance, but it seems so much more impressive when she’s forced to do this with only one walkable foot.

Air rushes in and out of my lungs. My brain is overloaded with the sensory stimulation of Anya on my lap and with Vigo by my side. It’s a swirl of good feelings and awful feelings and eerie, creepy vibes from the pervert demanding to witness our final goodbye.

“Very good,” Vigo says beside us, stepping closer, nearly touching my side. “Now, have your tragic goodbye.”

Anya shakes. She tries so bravely to hide it, and though Vigo might not see it, I can feel it. She swallows hard as her eyes meet mine. The blue softens as her icy armor melts away and my heart finally fails. It can’t find a steady rhythm. It speeds up and slows down and stops and starts.

It’s erratic for her.

I don’t give a shit about giving Vigo his tragic moment to hold over us. I don’t care what he witnesses. I just need her to know before she’s gone. I know she feels the same when she drops her forehead to mine, drawing my energy and attention to focus solely on her. She cups my cheeks in her delicate hands.

“I love you,” I tell her. “I love you more than my freedom. I’m not giving up, Anya, I won’t.”

She sighs. “I love you, Ezra. That’s why I need you to let me go. Just focus on yourself, okay? Survive.”

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