My Trojan Horse Majesty (The Russian Witch’s Curse #5)

12. Leonid

Chapter 12

Leonid

I n my almost thirty years of life, I’ve encountered quite a few things I dislike. In fact, after spending a few months as the czar of a large country, I might almost say I’ve become picky. There are very few things I do like. Even so, encountering something I truly despise is equally rare. When we walk into the Salt Lake County Metro Jail and complete the paperwork for posting bail, I add something, or rather, some one , to that list.

Timothy Heaston.

I was predisposed to dislike him, it’s true. His manners on the phone were reprehensible. The way he’s tasked Izzy to clean up his messes is deplorable. But when we meet?

I absolutely hate him.

In fact, it feels as if every single part of my body’s crying out for his destruction. If I had free access to my powers, I’m not sure I wouldn’t have already eliminated him.

Incineration.

Burial alive.

Dry drowning.

Aneurysm that pops.

Suffocation.

Electrocution.

Some combination of the above.

The myriad ways I could destroy him just keep cycling through my brain, but I doubt I could convince Izzy that it wasn’t me who did it, so I’m stuck. She was so upset when I rid the world of the other two villainous men who were attacking us that I doubt she’d forgive me for freeing her from him either.

Not yet, anyway.

I was hoping he’d at least be wearing an orange jumpsuit or something when we saw him, but apparently when you post bail, they return the clothes the loser was wearing when he was picked up. He’s actually dressed in an ensemble that’s virtually identical to mine, which couldn’t disgust me more.

“Izzy.” Tim’s smile’s cloying. “You did it. You sold the horse.” He shakes his head. “When you said you didn’t ask your parents for the money, I was a little peeved. I’ll be honest.”

Izzy’s brow furrows.

“But I never should’ve doubted you. You pulled through.” He opens his arms, inviting her to step in closer for a hug.

Izzy backs up a step, drawing closer to me.

As if he’s noticing my presence for the first time, Tim’s shoulders straighten, and his smile melts away. “Who the heck are you?”

“Heck?” I frown.

“It’s a Utah thing,” Izzy says.

I arch one eyebrow. “Like vodka’s a Russian thing?”

“Sure,” Izzy says. “And Tim, this is Leonid Ivanovich, and he bought the horse. We got the money for your bail from him.”

We didn’t talk about what we’d tell him, mostly because I didn’t care at all what she told him about me or where she got the bail. I’m surprised she’s lying about it, but I suppose it makes sense. The horse did technically disappear and I appeared, so what she’s saying isn’t painfully untrue. We also can’t have him wandering around and asking questions about where the stallion went, I suppose.

She’s smart. It’s one of the things I like about her best. Izzy’s eyes widen. “Speaking of, you know that German man, Müller? He said you had a video feed running on the paddock around the clock. Is that true?”

Tim’s still glaring at me, but he nods slowly. “I do. I have cameras all over the property.”

“Where do the videos go?” Izzy sounds. . .nervous. Then she glances at the cameras in the corner of the room.

Tim smiles. “Don’t worry. There’s a live stream, but the images aren’t recorded. I’d need a lot of space to record the footage from every video camera I installed. It just lets me check on things in real time whenever I want.”

Izzy exhales, and I realize she was worried—probably that my transformation had been caught on camera somewhere. That’s cute. As if I can’t protect myself.

“Well.” Tim glances my way. “Thanks for escorting my girl here.” He steps toward her and slings an arm over Izzy’s shoulders. “I’ll take it from here.”

An emotion I’ve never felt before rises up inside of me, a possessive rage that threatens to consume me. He’s touching my Isabel. If I had free use of my powers, I would incinerate him to ash. Actually, I’d drown him first, then electrocute him, and then I would burn him to a pile of smoking cinder. And then I’d bury his remains so deep and so far that no one would ever find them—his relatives would always wonder where he went.

If they even cared.

But I don’t have my powers because he’s stolen my Isabel, so I just stand there, fuming, my hands balled into fists at my side.

Izzy ducks out from under his arm and sidles closer to me. “Actually, Tim, I need to talk to you about a few things before we go anywhere.”

Tim frowns at her, and then he narrows his eyes, focusing his gaze on me. “You need to talk to me—with this guy watching?”

Izzy bobs her head at the corner of the waiting room where there’s a small table with four chairs. “Can we just chat over there for a moment?”

He drops his voice, reaching for her arm. “Can’t we just go home? We can talk all you want there.”

She yanks her hand free. “I need to talk to you first.”

He glares at me, but he nods and walks reluctantly to the corner. “Fine.”

He sits in the chair with its back to the window, squaring off against me. He pulls the chair next to him out, expecting her to take it, but Izzy sits directly across from him, and I swivel the other chair around backward, sitting just behind her and to the side.

“What’s going on?” A muscle in Tim’s jaw is popping. I’m pretty sure he hates me almost as much as I detest him. Thankfully, I’ve had a hundred years to perfect my hatred of people and things, and I have many, many more tools than he does to dispatch my enemies.

“While I was on your computer, dealing with trying to sell Drago, I happened to see an email.”

His face falls into a deep scowl. “You want to talk to me because you were digging through my email? Don’t you think you should at least have the decency to keep quiet about something you found when you were invading my privacy?”

“I wasn’t digging through anything,” Izzy says. “I was on your computer when an email popped up, and a little notification showed up on the top right side of the screen. I saw my name on it.” She shrugs. “Maybe I shouldn’t have, but I clicked on it.”

Tim stands up. “Heck yes, you shouldn’t have. I don’t dig through your email.”

“Another Utah thing?”

Izzy snorts. “Old habits die hard.”

“Not very manly, if he can’t even swear,” I say. “That’s the first thing my British tutor taught me.”

“We need to go,” Tim says. “Now.”

“You, sit.” I point. “Until she’s done.”

Tim’s eyes are flashing when he turns toward me, and his lip curls. “No, you get out.” He tosses his head. “Before I do something very, very stupid in front of cameras that are recording.”

“I think it’s too late for that,” I say. “Maybe if you’d met me sooner, or just tried not to do as many stupid things you could have managed.” I shrug. “No way to know.”

“Tim.” Izzy points at his seat. “Please hear me out.”

Tim’s nostrils are flaring and his hands are tightly clenched, but he finally sits down again. “Which email that was sent to me did you read without my permission, exactly?”

“It was an email from Dr. Rebecca Hartfield. She was upset with you for asking her to dis-recommend me.” Izzy arches one eyebrow. “To USU. For the vet program.” She folds her arms. “So, then, I violated your trust more by reading the email you had sent to her .” Her lips are pursed.

Tim leans back in his chair and exhales loudly. “I can’t be mad at you for seeing that, because you were doing me a big favor when you saw it. I’m sorry I got upset, and I can explain.”

“You can’t be mad at her for seeing it while she was trying to break an insane stallion, alone, to come up with a huge amount of money for your bail?” I’m trying to suppress my laughter. “How magnanimous of you.”

Tim leans back and points at me, his eyes pinning mine at the same time. “I still can’t figure out why this guy’s even here.”

“Without me, you would still be locked up,” I say. “Izzy told me about your predicament, and I wired the money over right away.”

“You got an amazing horse out of it, so I don’t see?—”

“I promised him that I’d help him work with the stallion for a week or so,” Izzy says. “He’s hard to handle, and Drago trusts me.” She frowns—at me . “Now, if you’ll just talk to me and ignore Leonid, I promise he’ll also refrain from interrupting.” She arches an eyebrow and glares at me.

Like I’m the problem.

I sigh, but I close my mouth.

“I shouldn’t have asked Becca to do that,” he says. “But if you were accepted, you would have moved hours away.” He sighs. “I just. . .” His shoulders slump. His entire body sags. “I just.” He shakes his head. “I’m sorry, but I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you, and I—” His voice cracks, and I swear, it looks like he’s trying to cry.

She can’t possibly be buying this. Only, it looks like she might be softening. “You should’ve told me that.”

“Instead of using your position and authority to manipulate and control her.”

Izzy glares.

I throw my hands up. “I’m sorry. Go ahead.”

“You made me feel like I wasn’t good enough.” Izzy sounds so broken in that moment, that leaping across the table and smashing his face into goo doesn’t feel like enough. “I thought I was too stupid to be with you. I thought—” She is crying. It’s not an act. The person she trusted the most betrayed her, and now he’s saying he did it for her.

I drop a hand on her knee.

And that one point of contact is enough. I already hated Timothy Heaston, but with my hand on Izzy’s knee, I can see his soul in his face, and it’s dark. It’s not the face of a serial killer, not quite, but it’s as dark as fouled water, almost as dark as I’ve seen.

“I am so sorry, Iz.” He stands up, arms outstretched, as if he’s going to gather her against him and hug her or stroke her hair or something.

Izzy shakes her head and turns toward me.

The raging beast inside of me that has wanted to kill Heaston since the beginning roars. I gather her closer, my arms wrapping around her. “Shh. You were too good for him all along,” I whisper in Russian. “Far, far too good for him. You always will be.”

“What are you saying?” Tim’s fists look ready to try and take me out.

“Nothing you would understand,” I say. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Were the two of you. . .” Tim ducks his head until he’s staring at Izzy. “Did something happen while I was in there?” He throws a thumb backward, at the door he just exited. “Did this guy buy the horse because you. . .earned it?”

“Stop suggesting things that you would do,” I say. “Izzy’s nothing like you.” Which I can now visually see. Her face glows like the sun. It’s brighter and more brilliant than nearly any other face that I’ve seen. She’s as lovely as he is dark.

And I mean to make sure he never gets near her again.

“Iz, you can’t stay mad at me when I was doing it for us. I know it was wrong, and I’m really sorry, but tell me that I can fix it.” He drops onto his chair and drags it closer, the metal feet screeching against the tile. “I would leave this practice, or even this state, for you. We can move somewhere close to another vet school. Then you can go to school while I work—I told you the second I got out of here, I’d buy you a ring. I meant it.” He stretches his hand across the table. “Come with me. We can go choose one now.”

Izzy pulls away from me slowly, like a flower unfolding under the rays of the sun, and she turns back toward him. “Did you do what they’re saying, what your partners are saying?” Her voice is small, so small I can barely hear her words. “Did you steal money from the other partners? Did you overcharge clients and recommend surgeries that horses didn’t even need?”

It’s clear on his face.

He’s guilty as sin itself.

“Of course not.” Now he’s scooting back. I should have expected this. She’s accusing him, so he has to get defensive and aggressive in response. “I can’t believe that you, of all people, could believe that of me. I thought you loved me.”

“I wouldn’t have thought you’d email Dr. Hartfield,” she says. “I’m beginning to worry that the Tim Heaston I loved. . .isn’t you at all. I’m worried I made up some other version of you in my head.”

“You’ve been listening to your friends.” Tim’s expression is set, angry. “It’s that Paige, right? She’s always hated me. I think it’s because she liked me herself. She’s jealous of us—of you.”

“Actually, she said you made a pass at her,” Izzy says. “I thought she was lying. I thought she was jealous of the time we were spending together, but now?” She stands. “I thought I wasn’t good enough when I was with you. I thought I wasn’t smart enough, wasn’t interesting enough. . .wasn’t enough . I worried all the time that I’d disappoint you. I’m finally realizing that the only thing that made me an idiot was not seeing you for who you really were.”

He leaps to his feet. “If you think I’m a liar, I’m an evil manipulator, then why did you even bail me out?”

“So I could dump you face-to-face, I guess,” she says. “Only creeps do things through email, or hadn’t you heard?” She turns and starts to walk off.

Tim reaches for her, but I’m not about to let that happen. I step into his space and punch him right in the nose.

He swears loudly, spraying blood all over me, the floor, and his own shirt. He swears again, and then he draws one arm back to take a shot at me.

I bump his arm away from the inside, knocking it wide, and punch him again. If the first hit didn’t break his nose, that second one definitely did. That makes me smile.

“Leo!” Izzy’s outraged cry reminds me that we’re standing in a police station. Plus, she said Leo. It makes me smile.

I wave at the camera. “Diplomatic immunity.” Then I shrug, spin on my heel, and walk out.

Izzy falls into step beside me on the way out. “Did you use your powers back there?”

I can’t help my snort. “Please. I don’t need magic to defeat someone like him. I just punched him in the face.” I try to suppress my smile and fail. “Twice.” I pause, falling behind while she keeps going. “Wait. Are you saying I can use them against him? Because, I forgot. . .my wallet. I need to go back in there.”

Izzy pivots and glares at me balefully. “No, I’m definitely not saying you can do anything to him.”

I trot to catch up with her, but as we reach the truck, I realize I’m covered in blood spatter. “This is unseemly,” I say. “I can’t be walking around like this. I’m the leader of the noble and powerful country of Russia.”

Izzy’s eyes widen when she notices the blood on my shirt. “Are you alright?” She grabs my hand.

My heart does a very strange thing. It speeds up. I find myself breathing faster. I want to talk, but I have no idea what to say.

She turns my hand over and frowns. “This one looks fine. Did you punch him with your other hand? I thought you were right-handed.” She releases it and reaches for my other hand.

I let her take it. . .and the same thing happens again. Plus, something more happens, something new. A little thrill of excitement runs up my arm and makes my whole body shiver, but not in a bad way.

She looks up at me. “Are you alright? What was that little tremble? Are you sick? Coming down with something?”

I snatch my hand away. “I’m fine. The blood’s from that guy.” I’m not saying his name. “But I’m glad you’re concerned for my well-being and not upset.”

“Oh, I’m upset alright.” She shakes her head and holds out her hand. “Give me my key and let’s get out of here before the police come arrest you.”

“Do you know what diplomatic immunity means?” I ask.

She rolls her eyes. “I’m not an idiot, but you have no papers. I know you entered a code at the bank, but you think that’s how it works at the local police station?”

“They could watch any news station and see clips of me.”

“Speaking of that, why haven’t they become alarmed that you’re missing?”

“My staff isn’t idiotic. We had protocols in place for this.”

“You had protocols in place?” She drops her hands to her hips. “Do you often drop off the face of the earth, get stuck as a horse, and almost die? You’re frequently stolen by twenty-something, recent college grads and ridden around a pasture?” Her mouth’s twitching. “Really?”

I like it when she smiles, and I don’t like it when she’s mad. I do sort of like it when she’s glaring at me, as long as her eyes are flashing and her mouth is twisting like that.

Which is stupid.

I should not care what this woman thinks. Like she’s saying, I have a country to run. I need to focus on getting us unlinked and regaining full use of my magic.

“Let’s get you a new car,” I say. “Then we can get me some new clothing, and prioritize unlinking ourselves. I do need to be able to use my powers again so I can go back to running half the world.”

“Half the world, is it? Because you’re executing other dictators so you can take over their countries?” She tilts her head.

“You’ve been looking me up.” I can’t help my grin. “Yes, I need to get back to all of that. Executions and world domination, etcetera.”

“I can’t believe I’m helping Pol Pot.”

“Oh please. He ruled for three and a half years, and he killed plenty of good people.” I step past her, open the door, and climb into the driver’s side. “I’m not going to be nearly that easy to defeat, and I only kill villains—if I then take over their countries, well, it’s for their own good.”

“Sorry, Stalin. I misspoke.”

Now she’s really irritating me, but it’s in a way no one else ever has.

And I like it.

Maybe too much.