My Wild Horse King (The Russian Witch's Curse Book 4)

8. Katerina

Kristiana and Aleksandr take one room.

Alexei and Adriana take the other.

Mirdza’s generosity results in the other two getting beds, but as a couple, she and Grigoriy score the air mattress in the office.

“But what about her?” Adriana’s scowling at me. “We can’t trust her, clearly. The last time we weren’t watching her, she ran to Leonid and struck some kind of deal for Alexei to be forced to marry her.”

“I didn’t strike that deal,” I lie. “I begged him to give Alexei’s powers back, and I told him you were leaving Russia. I swore Alexei wouldn’t be a threat.”

“But we mean to be exactly that,” Grigoriy says. “Leonid may not be afraid of us, but we plan to do everything we can to stop him from terrorizing anyone else.”

“Who exactly has he terrorized?” Gustav asks. “Because I’m not nearly as upset about Lukashenko’s death as you seem to be, and Russia has always had executions that we would never approve of here in the United States. Heck, the United States has executions that its citizens think violate due process. Being copacetic in America is a high bar, and dictators never clear it.”

“It’s not that one death that bothers me.” Grigoriy scowls. “It’s the reason Lukashenko’s dead that should worry you. Leonid wanted Belarus, and when he wants Iran and then Syria, no one will object either, because their leaders are also bad men. But what happens when he starts taking countries you Americans care about? What happens when he starts killing good people? Is that when you’ll finally decide that bad actions are wrong and shouldn’t be tolerated?”

“I thought we decided to talk about this tomorrow.” Kristiana shoves a pile of pillows and blankets at Grigoriy.

Surprisingly, the notorious hothead actually backs down. I wish I had Kristiana’s skill at pushing the guys around. From the day we first met at magical training as children, no one has ever listened to me.

Except Leonid, I suppose, but by the time I met him, we were all much older, and his listening days were short-lived.

“Alright.” Kris claps. “Katerina will sleep here.” She points at the sofa. “All of us will hear if you try and sneak off, because Gustav’s door has a security code, and the elevator’s ding is noisy.” She glances at him as if to verify what she’s saying is true.

Gustav nods.

“Great, so let’s sleep. Things will make more sense after we’ve rested—I can’t speak for everyone, but jet lag combined with the late hour is making me downright punchy.”

Once everyone disappears, I realize there aren’t any pillows and blankets left over. Of course there aren’t. At least Gustav has a throw pillow. I punch it a few times and lie down. It feels like I’m trying to sleep on a pile of slate. I tiptoe back down the hallway to the closet Gustav keeps his blankets and pillows in, but it’s right by his bedroom door. I have to work hard to make sure I’m extra quiet.

And after all my efforts, I discover that the cabinets are entirely empty. I suppose he’s not used to accommodating this many uninvited guests. Who would be? I close it slowly, and turn to walk back.

My foot squeaks on a board.

I freeze.

No sounds. I think I’m safe.

I sneak back to my sofa, but before I can lie down, Gustav’s door opens and he emerges, looking around. “Were you over here?” He arches one eyebrow.

No one on earth is quite as perfect as Alexei, but Gustav’s not actually too bad looking. He’s relatively tall, and he has sandy brown hair with light brown, almost golden eyes. His nose is long and sharp, balanced with powerful—but not overpowering—brows. His cheeks are high and prominent, and his jaw’s square. His hair’s just long enough to fall over his eyes a bit.

Exactly like I like it.

When he’s not standing next to one of the most beautiful men on earth, he’s impressively good looking. I feel a little bad for not noticing before. “Sorry. I was looking for a pillow.”

“At least you weren’t trying to escape.”

“Wouldn’t that be easier on everyone, being honest?” I sigh. “I probably shouldn’t have come to New York at all.”

His brows draw together. “Come with me.”

I consider refusing, but he’s been nicer to me than anyone else in this entire country, and I did cause him quite a lot of trouble. I straighten and follow him. . .into his bedroom. I freeze in the doorway, wondering why he summoned me here.

But all he does is grab one of his pillows and the duvet from his bed. “Here.” He extends his hand toward me.

“I can’t take your pillow and blanket.” I shake my head.

“I sleep anywhere, and I’m not at all fussy. Besides, I tend to run hot. The blanket’s usually kicked off on the floor by morning.” He shakes his hand at me as if to say, come get it already.

I finally take the four steps across the room to take it, but I can’t help looking around as I do. His room looks nothing like I expected—nothing like the rest of the apartment.

The family room, entry, and kitchen are plain, utilitarian, and modern. They boast clean, straight lines, but this room is different, like it’s part of a totally unrelated apartment. It’s bright and warm, with wood tones and taupe paint. All the furniture, from the chest of drawers to the nightstands and the end table by the large leather chair, are made from rich, dark wood. The floor’s made of a lighter color of wood. Ash, maybe. There are large, brilliant whorls that cover it. There’s a huge portrait of a stunningly beautiful woman on the wall, and I can’t help wondering who she is.

“Your girlfriend?” I ask, inclining my head.

“The only woman I love, other than my sister.” He compresses his lips and drops the blanket in my arms. “Now, go.”

I’m nearly out the door when I hear him.

“Is he really as bad as they say?”

I pause. When I turn, slowly, he’s still standing exactly where he was before. “You tell me about the picture.” I point. “And I’ll tell you more about Leonid.”

His jaw locks, and I realize he’s not going to talk. I’m turning to leave again when he says, “It’s my mother. She loved horses—sometimes I think she loved them even more than my father. She surely loved them more than I ever did. She loved them more than anything in her life, except maybe Kristiana. But in spite of her passion, I never wondered whether she loved me—she made that clear every day. She brightened up every room she was in, and she died because of my dad. . .and because of a horse.” The muscles in his jaw work.

I realize that’s it. That’s everything he’s willing to share. “Leonid.” I inhale and exhale slowly. “Have you ever seen a stray kitten?”

His brow furrows.

“When I met him, he was like a stray cat who had spent his entire life being kicked. He was pitiful, really. His dad was completely nuts. He had dragged Leonid from hither to yon, ranting about their great destiny and their esteemed pedigree to anyone who would listen. Leonid had been booed, mocked, and attacked by people for years. He knew his dad was insane, but he didn’t have anyone else.”

“You felt sorry for him?” Gustav says. “Is that why you’re friends?”

“Friends is not a great word for what we were.” It’s far more complicated than that. “I did feel sorry for him—anyone would have. But the thing about Leonid is that. . .instead of a kitten, I should’ve said he’s like a baby tiger. He’s beautiful in a way that almost no one is.” It almost hurts saying that. It feels like I’m being disloyal to Alexei.

And for some reason, Gustav also looks angry.

“Pull up his photo. You’ll see what I mean. I thought he was like a kitten, but by the time I realized I’d caught a wounded tiger by the tail, it was too late.”

“What did you do for him?” Gustav looks well and truly curious now. “How did you catch his tail?”

“Leonid had never really spent more than a night or two in the same place. I think his father was terribly ill, but not in his body. He was sick in his mind.”

Gustav’s frown returns.

“I was the one who met them when they came through our town. I had just gotten a new hat and was walking through the main street of town when I saw Leonid, defending his father near the square. I begged Father to let them stay with us. I asked him to ignore the man’s ranting and take pity—find him some kind of job.”

“And your father did it?”

“Father was pleased with me at the time. He thought I was going to marry the czar’s son.” I sigh. I’m not sure exactly what he knows about how things went down a hundred years ago. “At first, I pitied him. But later, because of his extraordinary looks, I used him to try and make another man jealous.”

“Alexei.”

I hate that he can see through me after knowing me all of two minutes. “It didn’t work.”

Gustav’s expression is absurdly disapproving. “So far, Leonid doesn’t seem like the villain.”

“I thought I was honestly doing Leonid a favor.” I do feel pretty bad when I think about it in retrospect.

“So, that’s it? You used him, and now he’s mad?”

“You have about two and a half hours of sleep now, if you want to go to your precious meetings,” I say. “There’s not even half as much time as you’d need for me to share this entire story.”

Gustav nods slowly. “You’re right. I need to worry about things that matter. Things in the here and now.”

“But you should know that he’s very dangerous, and he’s very powerful, and they haven’t exaggerated a single thing. He told me himself that he’s coming after you, and he’ll kill you. If. . .” I’m not sure how to warn him away from using his powers. It’s a complicated thing, being able to use them.

“If what?” Gustav’s eyes are so light in this moment that they look nearly champagne.

“If you do any of the things they want you to do.”

“The things? No one has asked me to do anything.”

“Kristiana’s a null,” I say. “The magical powers Baba Yaga gave our families don’t work on her, and we think the reason why is that her older brother’s the heir of the family power—that only happens when the powers aren’t split.”

“I have no idea what you mean,” Gustav says. “You’re making no sense.”

“Let me put it this way. Baba Yaga gave the founder of Russia, Rurik, powers over a thousand years ago. When she thought the line died out, she granted similar powers again, but this time to a group of people instead of only to one. She spread the powers out to try and help balance things out a little better. But when Leonid showed up, she told him he could only regain his powers by retaking them from those people.”

“Okay.” Gustav sits on the edge of his now-denuded bed. “But you said?—”

“I’m not done.” I lean against the doorframe. “When she gave them to the group of people, she picked one person whose powers would control all the others. It was someone who kind of ran things, at the time.”

“Wouldn’t that have been the Romanovs?” Gustav runs his hand over his chin, and the tiny hairs on his face make a rasping sound.

“The Romanovs had just become the new ruling family before she stepped in. The last few families that took over for Rurik couldn’t hold the throne. It had been hard on the entire country. The family behind their appointment. . .well, I thought you were Rurikid like Leonid, but now I think that person was your ancestor.”

Gustav blinks.

“Which means, if you learn how to use Baba Yaga’s magic, you could potentially defeat Leonid. You’re the only one who might.”

“Which is why he wants me dead.”

“It is,” I say. “If you learn how to use the powers you can control, you become a threat to him, and once that happens. . .”

“He’ll eliminate me.”

I nod. “Leonid’s become terrible. He’s extremely powerful. He’s hot-tempered and rash. But in this case, his behavior’s predictable. He told me he would return Alexei’s powers to him?—”

“If he marries you instead of Adriana.”

“So that I can ensure he’s not plotting,” I say.

“You’re loyal to Leonid?”

“Not exactly. Let’s say that I know enough to be afraid of him.” I shrug. “And I’m smart enough not to move against him. I came here to try and convince Alexei to be smart, too. Even if he doesn’t marry me, he needs to leave Leonid alone. But for you, I came to warn you that if you want to carry on with your American life here, you should. Never touch your magic, and Leonid will leave you be.”

“But if I lift my littlest magical finger, then bam?” He lifts both eyebrows. “I’ll be squashed like a bug?”

“Something like that,” I say.

“Your pretty boy’s in luck.” Gustav’s lip twists. “I happen to want nothing to do with any of this, and I have zero plans to challenge him in any way.”

“Finally, someone smart.”

A wave of exhaustion rolls over me. “Time to sleep.”

“Past time.” Gustav yawns, and I find myself yawning in reply.

I’m several steps down the hall when he asks another question from the doorway. “When you start your training, how do you learn to access this magic?”

“I thought you wanted nothing to do with it.” This sort of question isn’t promising.

“Have you ever had an allergy to something?” Gustav asks. “You have to understand what you’re allergic to in order to avoid triggering it by accident.”

It’s a fair point. “In order to awaken our powers, we have to commit a selfless act.”

“But if I do something selfless in order to awaken my powers, isn’t that no longer selfless?”

“I’m too tired to debate with you in English,” I say. “But I’ll tell you this. When I was seven, I released a mouse from a trap. I was terrified of mice, and I didn’t want to loose it. If I got caught, I would’ve been punished. But it looked so miserable, and it was shaking, and I knew what it was like to be afraid. I couldn’t leave it in the trap to be killed. When I pulled the side of the trap up to free it, the mechanism broke my finger.” I hold up my right hand, showing him how my fourth finger’s still crooked. “If your sacrifice has no cost to you, it won’t do anything.”

“Should be easy enough to avoid.” He nods. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

“Good luck with your meetings tomorrow,” I say. “If I had any money, I’d buy some of your company myself to try and help.”

“You’ve done more than enough.” Gustav’s smiling as he closes the door, and it’s not the worst thing I’ve ever seen.

When I go to sleep, it’s the first time I haven’t been imagining Alexei’s smiling face in a very, very long time.