Page 80 of Dance with Death

“God, I love you, Anya.” He spreads his legs apart to sink to my height so he can be closer to me. “I love you. I’m yours.”

“I know you’re mine. Always.”

“I’ll save you. I promise.” He grabs my cheeks and kisses me with an explosive passion in the aftermath of his rage. I want nothing more than this—his lips on mine, his tongue aggressively seeking the taste of me as I open for him. I don’t even care about the blood on his hands that smudge my cheeks. It’s Vigo’s blood and that makes me feel somehow more powerful, more capable of survival.

He pulls back and gives me his gaze. I relish the vibrancy of his eyes, knowing that he’ll be taken from me at any moment. His green eyes and my blue mingle. Between the two of us we are green earth and blue ocean—forces formidable on their own, but together entirely unmovable, unshakeable, significant, and mighty.

Ezra is the savior who rescued me, then destroyed me. He is the lover who showed me pleasure that made the pain more profound. He is the soul mate who completed me, then ripped me apart with his absence. He is the end and the beginning and everything in-between.

Then Nikolai rips him away from me and I fear our in-between may be done too soon.

Our end may be coming.

The Vittoris stay an extra day at the Leblancs’ estate to allow Vigo time to recover. He’d suffered cuts and scrapes and bruises, though the worst injury he received was a broken nose.

He would be fine.

As a slave, I’d suffered the same injuries, though not necessarily all at once. Still, if a tiny, insignificant woman such as myself could continue vigorous dance rehearsals with a broken nose, surely Vigo could quit whining like a small child and pull himself out of bed.

Who’s weak and pathetic now?

Renata sends me to the Leblanc kitchen to get more ice for Vigo’s swollen jaw. She sends her slave, Luca, with me to ensure I don’t try anything stupid.

Like grab a kitchen knife and finally cut my throat open wide.

She doesn’t understand that I don’t require suicide watch because I’d made a promise to Ezra to try—to do my best to stay alive while he tried to find a way to save me. No such way existed, but Ezra deserved to hang onto his hope, even if mine had been lost. Heneedsthat hope—he needs to hope and dream and believe in something more. It’s part of what makes him Ezra, and I love that about him. So I’ll pretend I haven’t given up on a future for as long as I can… for his sake.

When we reach the kitchen, I’m surprised to run into Kostya. I would have thought Nikolai would have left when the O’Sheas had, and that was hours ago. Kostya catches my eye with a fearful yet determined sort of look that draws my curiosity.

I do my best to be surreptitious, telling Luca to go on through the large kitchen and look in the walk-in pantry for some plastic bags to put the ice in. He’s so used to blind obedience with Renata that he immediately walks away.

Kostya takes advantage of Luca’s absence and rushes toward me. I take a step back, unnerved by his eagerness. But we both stop and still when he’s just in front of me. He looks left and right, checking for anyone who might be watching, and my eyebrows draw together.

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out an object. Reaching for my hand, he places the object on my palm and closes my fingers around it.

Kostya whispers to me in Russian. He tells me to use it when all feels lost, that Ezra will be given one as well. He tells me to hide it, keep it silent, and only use it when it’s absolutely necessary. Because when the battery dies, that’s it. He has no way to get me another.

I look down at my hand, jaw dropped open at what he’s given me.

A cell phone.

A small, cheap texting-and-phone-calls-only kind of phone.

I ask him why.

He tells me he made a promise to Nikolai a long time ago—a promise to keep my heart beating even if Nikolai stopped it himself.

Kostya promised Nikolai he’d keep me alive?

Kostya knows how much I need Ezra to get me through hell with Vigo. He tells me I’ll find only one contact listed on the phone when I turn it on, but I should wait until I’m home with the Vittoris and the phone can be hidden.

I’m baffled speechless.

I had distrusted Kostya for all these years.

But he’d given me pills when I was in pain, and now he’s giving me a phone to text Ezra.

Only, he looks conflicted about it. I ask him if Nikolai told him to do this and he tells me no, rather emphatically. I know he’s telling the truth by the way his eyes dart around the room, watching for anyone who might see or hear us.

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