Chapter 7
Abeer bottle rolls from under the red bench, and Sasha kicks it against the table like it’s done him a personal wrong. When it returns to our feet, he follows it with his eyes, then delivers another blow to the glass. It cracks apart, creating a jagged wound at its opening. Sasha kicks it back under the seat and steps toward me, shards of glass crunching under his feet as he runs his hands through his dark hair.
“What’s got into you?” I ask. Nervous energy comes off Sasha in waves that are strong enough to put me on edge too.
“Parties like this annoy me. Watching everyone else drinking and fucking while I’m trying to work out what the Night Governor’s going to do next.” He swivels his toe in a circle over the broken bottle fragments. “Makes me itchy.”
“Yeah, me too.” I glance back toward the dark corner where I left the singer, but I can’t spot her through the remaining stragglers. “I don’t think that clown Antonov will see out the month.”
Sasha stares at the thinning crowd. The bulk of the revelers have followed the richest man in the room to an after-party. “He’s still useful. There’s a deal going down on the China-Russia border, and the boss wants in on the smuggling routes.” He grabs a bottle from the table and takes a swig of warming beer with a grimace.
“How do you know what the border deal involves?” I question.
“Guess who’s going to spend two weeks in deepest Siberia in mid-winter if the deal comes off?” Sasha’s mouth twists in disgust.
I clap a sympathetic hand on his back, glad I can’t speak Chinese. I get sent to New York when the Night Governor needs errands run with his American business rather than Siberia. “Is that why you’re in such a bad mood?”
“Yeah. I’m the only one he trusts to deal with the triad gangs near the border.” He sighs, tossing the beer bottle from hand to hand before tipping the dregs onto the floor. “Or he doesn’t want me around and he’s sidelining me. You’ve got to watch my back while I’m away. I don’t trust him.”
I pull Sasha over to a sofa and fish around in a bucket of melting ice for some cold vodka. Once I’ve found it, I pour two shots in glasses that are none too clean. “No one trusts him, but you’re the smartest guy in the room and he needs you.”
Sinking to a bench, I hand my friend one of the shot glasses as I scan the throng of people for the singer. Now that the crowd has thinned even more, I see the corner I left her in is empty.
“That’s probably why he doesn’t like me.” Sasha looks over, worry creasing his forehead. “If I have to leave town next week, you’ll be here, right?”
“Where else would I be?” I let my head tip back as I watch the disco ball paint patterns of light on the ceiling. “We both need to get out of Moscow. That fucker doesn’t like anyone.”
Sasha stares pensively at the bar, then he throws back his drink. “Looks like the boss has found some fresh meat.”
I follow his gaze across the room and see my little songbird talking to Guelman. The boss might be pouring her champagne now, but he likes to break women for sport, even when he’s not selling them for sex.
She catches my eye and smiles. I wave and rise from the sofa, but my best friend grabs my arm and yanks me backward.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Sasha looks over at the bar and sees the bottle of champagne our boss is pouring into his own glass. He goes to top up my golden-haired angel’s glass, but she puts a hand over the top and smiles sweetly at him. Everything about her is sweet, from her hair that smells of flowers to her lilting southern accent.
“Leave her to the Night Governor. He’ll take care of her,” Sasha says, tilting his head to the side as he looks between me and the scene at the bar.
“Guelman has never taken care of anyone in his life. He’ll use her and discard her.” With a sense of foreboding, I look between the woman I’ve become fascinated by and the looming figure of Yevgeny Guelman.
Sasha’s eyes rove around the room, taking in the drunk American music executive and the last remaining strippers before landing back on our boss, who flashes his gold tooth at us with a malevolent grin. “She’s a star. She’ll be okay. Anyway, what do you care?” He shrugs.
“I don’t,” I say, cupping the back of my neck and shifting from foot to foot until Sasha slaps me on the back and starts laughing.
“Fuck me. Little Vadim’s got a crush.”
“Piss off. She’s not interested.” I turn back toward the bar and watch the way the light plays across her gold curls and olive skin. She’s so fucking beautiful.
“The way she keeps looking over at you says otherwise, but I think the Night Governor’s got his eyes on her, so you better move fast if you want any action.” Sasha grins at me, his teeth flashing blue under the strobe lights.
Guelman slides his arm around the singer’s shoulders, and she stiffens. Strange that she can sense enough to be afraid of him, but she needed rescuing from a man who must be much less dangerous.
As if on cue, her puffed-up manager starts making his way toward her at the bar, and I can’t stand it another second. She’s mine. I elbow my way through the thinning crowd until I’m right behind her, and her whole face lights up in a smile when she sees me.
“Zolotaya,” I say, damning myself for not asking her name, but she steps into my side for the second time this evening. I slide an arm around her waist, pulling her into the shelter of my body.
Guelman looks at the pair of us, and I can see the wheels turning in his mind, calculating how he might use the connection to his advantage.
“Kesera was the star attraction tonight. Are you escorting her to Antonov’s after-party?” Guelman says. The Night Governor gives me a pointed look, making clear this suggestion is only a little short of an order. It’s an order the little songbird doesn’t want me to obey.
She laughs and plasters herself against me, her fingers digging sharply into my waist. “I’m a bit jetlagged.”
Sasha sidles up to the boss, leans near his ear, and says something under his breath. Guelman nods, glancing briefly at both of us before stepping away to talk with Sasha at the end of the bar. I continue watching as Sasha holds up his phone and points to a text. The boss shakes his head, then starts back toward us.
“Business calls me away. I will leave you with Vadim.” He leans down to press a kiss to her cheek and looks at me from beneath hooded eyelids. She shrinks from his touch, and he smiles like her fear gives him a personal thrill. “I trust you won’t make a mess of this. Do your best to show the talent some of Moscow’s culture. I’m sure a lady like this would like to see more than your usual shabby haunts.”
He stands to his full height and turns toward the door. Sasha follows him, stopping to talk to one of the girls before winking at me.
The singer at my side stiffens. I step around her, gently turn her to face me, and cup her shoulders, kneading her tight muscles and running my hands back and forth along the narrow line of her back, trying to transmit that I mean her no harm.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left you alone. I didn’t even ask your name.” I smile and let my hand drift into the curls at the nape of her neck.
“Kesera,” she says. Her head sinks into my palm, and she looks up at me with dilated pupils.
“Do you want me to drop you back at your hotel, or do you want to stay with me for a while? I can show you a bit of the city if you’d like?” I can’t think why she’d choose to come with me, but for some reason, I hope she will.
She glances around the bar before her eyes drift shut, then turns her face into the heel of my hand, as if seeking comfort. I massage the back of her head with fingers that feel overly large and clumsy before she opens sleepy eyes and whispers, “I’ll take my chances with you. If that’s okay.”
I pull her against my body and wrap my arms around her. “More than okay,” I say softly into her hair before taking her hand and leading her to the corner where Sasha is pouring himself another shot of vodka. I watch him down the drink. He’s on the road to oblivion.
“You off?” Sasha lapses into Russian, pulling car keys from his pocket and throwing them to me. “Where are you heading?”
I catch the keys, which he throws a little too wide so I have to drop my arm from Kesera’s shoulders. “Out for a bit, but she’s tired. Maybe I’ll take her to the dacha.”
“The dacha? We don’t take anyone there.” Sasha’s brows draw together in a dark line when I bring up our house in the woods.
Is it wrong to want to steal a moment away from the dark energy of Moscow? I think about the snow and silence and the small wooden house in a clearing in the trees. The way the light filters through the branches and glints on the snow. The dacha is our sanctuary, and I don’t take anyone there, because I don’t want the place contaminated with anything that can follow me home. I haven’t taken a girl there for years. Not since Sasha’s sister.
But this is different. It will be over before it begins.
“We don’t take anyone we might see again,” I say. “This is temporary. It’s clean. She’s not part of our world, and when do I have time to meet someone like that?”
Sasha looks at me quizzically. “I didn’t know you wanted to meet someone like that. Emotions are messy. Especially at a time like this.”
“Fuck off, Sasha. I won’t start getting sappy about someone I’ve just met.” I look at the girl who’s pressed against my side. “Of course, I could always hand her back and drink and fuck Oksana instead.”
Sasha laughs. “Okay, you’ve made your point. More chance of complications and definitely more chance of a hangover with Oksana. If I’m away, you’ll need to keep your wits about you.”
“I’ll take her out in Moscow first, but I need to get out of the city to clear my head. Is the dacha empty? Can I use it?”
Sasha narrows his eyes, but he lets his doubts hang in the air instead of voicing his objection. “If you know what you’re doing.”
“Always, brother. Always. When have I ever let you down?”
He smiles. “Go on, then. Have some fun. Clear heads next week and all that.” He puts an arm around my shoulder and squeezes, but before I can make an exit, the singer’s manager blocks my way.
“We’ve got to leave. I’ll need Kesera to come with me,” Jimmy says, looking up at me with a nasty smile on his face.