Chapter Ten
Dorian
As always, the doctor we have on-call takes pleasure in swindling us.
Fifty thousand dollars for a simple clean-and-stitch job that I’m certain Mira could’ve done for me.
She doesn’t flinch or move as the doctor slices around in my arm, taking his sweet time retrieving the pieces of my shirt stuck in the wound.
Just sits with her arms folded over her tattered shirt and stares ahead, her eyes glazed.
Once the doctor’s done and I’ve wired him the obscene sum of money he requested in return for his services, I send him on his way with a cursory threat to keep his mouth shut.
My phone buzzes with a text from Connor, saying that he’s informed Sergei of the situation, and Sergei wants me to call him.
“Mira,” I say. She doesn’t move, doesn’t actually appear to have heard me.
I feel my brows crease as I repeat her name a second time, then a third, to no response.
It’s not just that she doesn’t respond; it’s that she doesn’t even seem to hear me.
The fuck? I shift closer to her and wave a hand in front of her face.
She flinches, blinks several times, and turns to look at me.
Last night, she told me she zones out when she’s listening to music. It seems she might zone out when she’s stressed, as well.
“I’m leaving the room to make a call. Stay here.”
Brows furrowed, eyes filled with anger, she gives me a single nod.
I try to gentle my voice as I say, “I can see that you’re upset, but—”
“Don’t,” she hisses. “Go make your call. I’ll stay here like a good little prisoner until you get back.”
I feel my head jerk back at the heat in her words.
I’m tempted to stay right here and have an actual conversation, but Sergei Novikov is not a man to be kept waiting.
I stand and leave the room, going to the hallway.
Seamus and Connor are probably finishing up with body disposal right about now, but there are still blood splatters along the hardwood that’ll need to get cleaned up.
I pull out my phone and dial Sergei’s number. He picks up after only two rings.
“How’s the arm?” he asks without preamble.
“Fine,” I reply. “Flea bite. It barely even hurts.”
“Good,” he grunts. “The Serpents made a stupid mistake coming for you in your own home, but they also proved they’re a threat. Getting rid of them is now your top priority, understand? Make a plan and follow through, exterminate the rats before they spread their diseases any farther.”
“Understood,” I reply.
Sergei pauses for a long moment, then says, “The girl. Mira.”
Something tightens in my chest as I glance back toward the living room. “What about her?”
“Connor had quite the report to pass on. As did Seamus when I spoke to him. I’d like to hear your take on things.”
I give him a play-by-play of what happened.
She made dinner, shots got fired. She grabbed a gun and started shooting back, quite successfully.
I got hit, she seemed game to help me, then Connor threatened her and scared the shit out of her.
She told us about her stepdad, Connor checked the parts of her story that could be corroborated. She’s been quietly seething ever since.
“Last night, she was a potential loose end; now she’s smack dab in the center of your dealings,” Sergei says. “Connor tried to find leverage on her to keep her quiet, unsuccessfully.”
“He wants to kill her,” I add.
“That would be a mistake. It seems she proved her value tonight, did she not?”
“She did.”
“It sounds like she saved your ass. I do not have an appetite for killing people who have been nothing but compliant and helpful, especially women.” Relief blasts through me, underscoring Sergei’s pause. I say nothing, waiting for him to continue.
“You have two options,” Sergei says. “She’s in this now, there’s no two ways about that. There’s no getting out after what she’s seen or done. Your choice is how she’ll be in it. You either recruit her to your legion—initiate her and ensure her loyalty—or you keep her as your woman.”
Initiations are brutal, and so is this life.
I don’t want to subject Mira to that. In fact, I’m quite committed to protecting her—I don’t want to hurt her.
Over the last day, I’ve found myself growing increasingly partial to keeping her around longer than a week.
Much longer than a week. If the option is between recruiting her, something I’m loath to do, and keeping her as my own, something I very much want to do, I’m going to go with the latter.
“I’d prefer to keep her as my woman,” I say. “There are problems on that front, though.”
“List them,” Sergei demands.
“Connor scared her badly. When he did, she turned to me; I stayed quiet. So did Seamus. Her skillset was suspicious enough that we all had questions. She’s been off in her own mind ever since. Has barely spoken a word to anyone.”
“Alright,” Sergei mutters. “Sounds like she might feel betrayed. How was she behaving beforehand? Last night and today?”
It feels surreal to be discussing my problems over a potential relationship with Sergei, but if he’s offering help, I’m in no position to refuse.
“Reluctant but compliant,” I say.
“Attitude?”
“Mostly positive, occasionally withdrawn.”
“Were you intimate last night?”
“Not really,” I reply.
“What do you mean, not really?” Sergei queries.
“We slept in the same bed but didn’t touch. Nothing sexual.”
He releases a long breath. “Okay. Here’s what you’re going to do.
Do not threaten her with recruitment, but turn up the heat.
Woo her in whatever manner she’s receptive to.
When I was building a relationship with my Kira, it took a long time to get past her walls.
I was not forceful at any point, I was calculated.
I did things for her that were meaningful to her.
Women respond to being spoiled and taken care of, but each of them seek a different kind of caretaking, and many of them expect it to be a two-way street.
Be open so that she’ll feel safe to open up to you.
Don’t lie to her whenever you can avoid it. Spoil the hell out of her.”
“I don’t think she wants to be around anyone right now,” I say, peeking into the living room. Mira’s in the same position on the couch, feet tucked under her, arms crossed over her chest. Closed off and withdrawn.
“Tough shit. Don’t be forceful, but don’t let her steamroll you.
Keep her close. Blame it on me if you need to.
From this moment onward, your operation has shifted to making her yours, and there are few things more difficult than gaining a woman’s trust and affection when she’s led a difficult life that makes her cautious of people.
Especially when she feels she’s been betrayed or abandoned in a time of need. ”
“How do you know?” I question. Sergei’s wealth of knowledge about women and relationships is strange, but considering he’s happily married and word has it he’s trying for an heir, I don’t doubt his advice.
It helps that he is, hands-down, the smartest person I’ve ever met with an IQ that puts most geniuses to shame.
“Experience, and an affinity for reading people. As for your woman, Connor filled me in on what he found. Admirable that she’s in Greywood on a scholarship after such a life. Most people would fracture under the weight of the trauma, men and women alike.”
That much I believe; I’ve seen it happen. The sight of the scars littering Mira’s ribs, chest, and stomach are almost too much to bear, and they help me piece together a tentative picture of her life. One that inspires a great deal of admiration and respect for her.
“Keep me updated on your plans with the Serpents, and tell me if there are any problems with the girl,” he says, ending the call without a goodbye.
I shoot off a text to my group chat with Connor and Seamus, asking if they need help with cleanup.
They respond within a minute, telling me they have it handled, which leaves me to deal with the girl.
My girl, who’s quietly stewing on the couch.
I rotate my shoulder, wincing a bit at the pain before strolling back into the room.
“It’s been a long night. Let’s head to bed.”
She slowly turns to pin me with a steady, blank gaze. I don’t like the emptiness in her eyes. “I’d very much like my own room.”
I consider her request. I don’t want her to have her own room, I want her in my bed.
Where she belongs. The thought startles me, but also feels right somehow.
She should be in my bed. I want to keep her close, both so I can have eyes on her and so I have the opportunity to study her.
Learn her. Get to know her. Crawl into the crevices of her being and determine exactly what it’ll take to successfully claim her.
What sort of care does she want—need? What can I do for her that’ll make her less angry?
How can I explain that I didn’t intend to betray her or leave her to the wolves?
“Not going to happen,” I reply. “Come on, Mira. I’m tired and need to sleep off my injury. You need rest, too. We can argue in the morning.”
“I want my own room,” she repeats more forcefully. “I am not sleeping in your bed again.”
The determination in her voice makes me smile a little. “You are. We can discuss more in the morning. Don’t make me carry you; I’m not feeling my best right now, so it’ll only piss me off. Let’s go.”
She stares at me for several beats, releasing a low growl that reminds me of a hissing kitten.
Even so, she stands from the couch. She’s silent as she follows me up to my bedroom, where she promptly picks up the bag of clothes she brought from her dorm and shuts herself in the bathroom.
A few seconds later, the shower turns on.