Chapter Twelve #3

swung the gun on both of them, snapping the safety catch off. He

accorded Laurie a glance of acknowledgement—almost respect. “Not

bad, gajo.” Then he turned the muzzle and his full attention onto

Sasha, who had stepped to Laurie’s side. Who was already trying to

get in front of him, to shield him. “Come on, Alexandru,” Luca

said. “I’m not your father’s fucking errand boy. I’m his assassin.

You know that.”

“Yes. I do. But not here, Luca, for God’s sake. Not in front of

Laurie.”

“He won’t have long to grieve. You’ve been on the run too long,

Sandru. Told too many people our secrets. Too much pillow talk. I

know you’ve been trying to watch over him, but it’s no good. ‘My

son and his friends,’ your father said. You know I have to take

both of you—then anyone else you’ve been playmates with. Come on.

Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”

“There isn’t anyone else! Luca, there isn’t even him. I’ve told

him nothing. Let him go!”

Laurie drew one breath. Sasha had moved right in front of him.

Hesitantly, as if frightened, Laurie crept up close to him. He put

one hand on his shoulder—passed the other around his waist. To do

so, even now, was food and drink to him, sunlight at last on his

skin. He pressed his face to Sasha’s shoulder, as if hiding. Sasha

gave a kind of moan and tried to reach back for him, blindly

caressing. “Ah, love, don’t be scared,” he whispered. “I won’t let

him. I won’t let him. Luca, for fuck’s sake. Let him go!”

Luca

would not. Laurie knew this. He knew nothing about guns, assassins,

or the terrible world that had encompassed his, but he knew men’s

faces. And he knew how to act.

He shoved Sasha aside. He was a boy in a play who had been

held at gunpoint too long and had cracked. He was the coward, the

one who broke down and pleaded for his life. Sasha, caught off

balance, had dropped to his hands and one knee by the sofa. Laurie

lurched forward. “Oh, God, don’t!” he wailed, flinging out his

hands at Luca, seeing how the gesture brought the gun muzzle

swinging in his direction. A defensive instinct.

Good. “I don’t want to

die!” He allowed his legs to give. A proper stage collapse had to

be done with care. You always hurt yourself a bit. Trying to guard

yourself, to save yourself with an outstretched hand, spoiled it

entirely. And yet the movement had to be controlled, impact

absorbed in carefully tensed muscles. You had to be able to

die.

He fell

at Luca’s feet. Heard his growl of contempt, and that was fine with

Laurie too. Contemptible men were not dangerous. They clutched at

your ankles despairingly—not to distract or unbalance you. They did

not uncoil, drive one gouging fist into your balls, and snatch your

gun.

Luca’s

reflexes were good. His grip closed on thin air an inch behind

Laurie’s exit lunge, his leap back and away. Laurie would have

choreographed it better for the stage—so bold a move deserved a

better coda, not an undignified thump onto the sofa as he misjudged

his footing and the little table in front of it knocked his knees

out from under him. Instantly he scrabbled back up.

He was

lucky, he knew, not to have shot himself. He held the gun as he had

been taught in props class, straight and true, pleased at least

that he had the right end of the thing trained on Luca. “All right,

you bastard!” he snarled. “That’s it. Get the fuck out of my flat.

If you ever come near me or Sash again, I’ll…”

He

trailed off. Partly it was an uncertainty about how on earth he

should finish the threat. He could kill, he thought, but it would

have to be in hottest blood. It would have to be a man who was

attacking him or hurting Sash—not staring at him, disarmed, in

absolute bewilderment. And partly it was that someone was laughing.

Not Luca. This sound gave Laurie nothing but pleasure. He had

seldom heard it. His dealings with Sasha had been too intense for

much comedy. Laurie glanced at him without altering his

aim.

“Sasha. What?”

“Give that to me.” Sasha was getting to his feet, holding out

one hand. His eyes were bright with laughter, tears beginning to

catch in his lashes.

“Why? I’m okay.”

“Yes. But you can’t use a gun. And Luca knows it. You’re

not that good an

actor.”

Laurie swallowed. It was fair point gained. Already Luca was

shifting, his own grim smile beginning. “Oh?” Laurie whispered,

edging toward Sasha, keeping his fierce mask in place. “And

you can use one,

right?”

“That’s right. I’m sorry, ves’tacha. So much I should have told

you.” He met Laurie’s eyes, and carefully, carefully, lifted the

weapon from his grasp. He sobered absolutely. “Yes. I can use a

gun. Forgive me, Luca. You should never have come here.”

Laurie

stared at the corpse on his carpet. He had not thought this was how

violent death came about—so quick, so soundlessly. The gun’s

silencer was good. Only the faintest detonation, like percussion

heard through someone else’s headphones, had accompanied Sasha’s

squeeze of the trigger. All Laurie’s attention had been on him, not

on Luca. No terrible crunch of bone and blood. Even now, all he

could see was a neat, dark hole in Luca’s T-shirt, just over the

heart.

Warm

hands closed on both his shoulders. “Laurie. Laurie, come

away.”

That was Sasha. Laurie didn’t think anything else could have

broken his trance. He had seen death before. Luca, in his

blank-eyed sprawl, had lost half his apparent bulk, just as

Laurie’s father had, laid out on the hospital slab. But he had not

seen dying. He

stumbled back a little, turning, and felt Sasha seize him and grasp

him tight. “Oh, Laurie. Forgive me.”

Laurie breathed him in. He smelled of the night, of frost. Of

hard living, as if he had been forced back out onto the streets.

Laurie closed both arms around his back, gulped down air, short

inhalations, until he could speak. “Forgive you?”

“Yes. So much trouble and darkness. I tried…I tried to keep it

away. I tried to keep away from you.”

“It was me that brought trouble to you.” That did not sound

right. Sasha had once taught him an easy grammar rule for checking,

but he couldn’t remember it now. “I brought my father to Birchwood.

I killed Mama Luna.”

“Ah, no. No, love. She would never say that, I swear to you.

Now, Laurie…” Sasha squeezed him ferociously, then pressed his

hands to his shoulders, trying to ease him away. “Now I have to go.

My people aren’t like Mama Luna. They’re like him. And there’ll be more, just like

him, who come after.”

He

pulled himself away. Laurie, frozen with shock, for a moment could

only stare at him. He remained rooted stupidly to the spot until

Sash was almost at the door. He had arrived so suddenly—his absence

before that had been so complete, so dreadful—that damaged

emotional tendons inside Laurie, strained beyond elasticity, were

failing to respond. There was an instant when he could have let him

go.

But just

one.

Sasha

gasped as his exit was blocked. Laurie took him by his collar, then

knocked him hard against the wall. “No,” he snapped. “You don’t do

this to me again. Kucharski offered you a deal. You’re a refugee,

and neither of us owes our sodding fathers anything. Take

it.”

“Laurie,” Sasha whispered. His eyes were wide, pupils dilated

all the way with shock. “I ran. I’ve got an unlicensed gun. I just

killed someone. All deals are off.”

Laurie

stood silently, taking this in. He glanced around the room. An

unlicensed gun. Yes, there it was on the table, where Sasha had

carefully set it down after shooting Luca through the heart, as if

it had had one sole purpose and was now useless to him. “You don’t

have a gun,” he said, releasing Sasha with one hand, reaching with

the other into the pocket of his jeans. “What would you be doing

with a gun? Your prints are on that one because you used it to

defend me. Luca’s are on it because it belongs to him. All right?”

Sasha gazed at him. Laurie, who felt like a stranger to himself,

was not surprised at the blank lack of recognition in his eyes. “As

for running, Kucharski knows why you did that. And you’ve no idea

how badly he wants Stefan Petrica.” He handed Sasha his mobile and

watched him take it blindly. “That’s Kucharski’s number. Call

him.”

Sasha

wrenched from his grasp. He turned his back—walked away from him

with his head down. Laurie shuddered and folded his arms across his

chest. What had he done? By what right did he tell Sasha what to

do? Christ. In exacting obedience from Sasha, what had Laurie

sacrificed? Couldn’t he have been content to love him and let him

alone, even if that meant losing him?

Sasha

slumped down onto the sofa. He propped one elbow on his knee and

ran a hand into his hair. In his other hand, he clutched the mobile

so hard his knuckles were white. He said, after a moment, “Is that

DS Kucharski?”

A pause,

during which Laurie thought he could hear frost forming beyond the

open window.

“Yes. This is Sasha. This is Alexandru Petrica. I’m turning

myself in. I’m in East Hill with Laurie Fitzroy. I want to seek

asylum, and…I’m prepared to give up Stefan to you. My

father.”

There was a long pause. During it, Laurie could only imagine

what John Kucharski had to say. The last part of it must have

been why now or why the change of

heart, because Sasha suddenly looked up.

Tears were pouring down his face. He said, brokenly, all the ice

gone from his voice, “Because of Laurie. My father sent someone,

and…he was going to hurt Laurie.”

Laurie

stumbled over to him. The mobile clattered to the floor. Laurie

knelt, said, “Here,” and caught Sasha as he crumpled off the sofa

and into his arms. He turned so that he shielded Sasha with his

body from Luca’s dead stare, and clutched him and kissed the crown

of his head until the seizure of sobbing relented.

Laurie

was half-relieved, half-afraid. He had known Sasha could cry, but

Alexandru—son of Stefan Petrica, capable marksman, deadly in

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