"Just like when you kept Roksana safe when Tatiana held a gun to her head?" I asked. "Or is it like how you kept Anton safe and he killed his unborn sister?"
"Things have changed, Elena." Konstantin's voice was tight with control.
"I know. Things...and people."
He paused for a moment. "And people."
In that moment, I looked up, meeting his stare. Our gazes collided in an explosion of fireworks. The pure force of him threatened to wash away all rational thought, threatened to stop my heart from beating and blood from pumping.
Sometimes I mourned the fact that Nikolai didn't inherit his father's eyes. I had always been enamoured by the brown irises, how the rivets turned gold in the afternoon and obsidian in the shadows. Konstantin's eyes were a point of fascination–I instantly regretted looking into them.
"I'm sorry for being so loud. I'll treat to be more considerate in the future, Elena."
Elena. My name. The way it fell from his tongue should've been illegal.
"Don't call me that."
"Call you what?"
He knew what. I hissed, "Elena."
"I've called you Elena many times," he remarked. "You can't tell me that my simply saying your name is bothering you."
He had called me Elena many times but never with such...distance. He said my Elena, lyubimaya. Never just my name, and never with such threatening friendliness, like we were two colleagues trying to put up with each other until it was time to clock out.
"Just...just don't call me that."
"Would you rather I didn't address you at all?"
No. "Yes."
Konstantin's lips twitched into a small, secret smile. "I don't think that's possible. It'll be damaging to Nikolai seeing us so at odds. For him, we must be civil...Elena."
"We're not staying here long enough to bother," I snapped.
"Yes, you are," he replied. "Even if you do end up leaving once the Tatiana threat is void, it may take months, years, before that happens. We're no closer to finding her today than we were three years ago."
I frowned and asked, "What the fuck do you mean you're not close to finding her?"
13
Elena Falcone
Konstantin's face revealed nothing.
"It is as I said. Tatiana has managed to stay hidden for three years. It wasn't until the attack on the lab we knew for certain she was still active. That's how quiet she has been."
Tatiana had kept her end of the bargain. I hadn't.
My stomach twisted painfully. "There's been nothing...no hints she's building an army or any missing women?"
"Nothing," Konstantin replied. "But that doesn't mean she isn't doing anything. Whatever Tatiana is up to, she has succeeded in keeping it a secret."
I thought about the vase of teeth she had sent me, the vibrant purple foxglove that had been a clear threat.
"You've gone pale," he said. "Where you hoping for different news?"
"Of course. I had hoped you men with all your weapons and expertise would be able to find one lone woman."
"Unfortunately, finding lone women is something we're still learning how to do." Konstantin's voice was tight with double-meaning. "Wherever she is, it’s safe to assume she hasn’t given up her…ambitions.”
“Why did she come after Nikolai and me then?” I asked. “If she’s so intent on hiding.”
“That is a question I have been asking myself.”
Why did Tatiana wait three years? Why did she scare me into breaking my side of the agreement?
Why did she drive me into Konstantin’s arms?
I hated being confused, I hated being in the dark. My brain twisted painfully over the reasons and theories, desperate to try and find an answer. A world without logic was hard for me to process and uncomfortable for me to bear, like there was a constant itch in my mind that I could never scratch.
The word unattainable pulsed through me. Unattainable, unattainable, unattainable.
Konstantin’s hand reached out, catching a strand of my loose hair. He ran it gently through his fingers. “What is going on that brain of yours?” His voice was quiet, soft.
“None of your business.”
His smile was small, eyes remaining on the strand of hair. “You’re not going to share?”
“Feel free to guess.” It came out more breathless than I had intended. His proximity was confusing, disorientating.
“Guess?” Blond brows rose ever so slightly. “Aren’t we a little old for games, Elena?”
I narrowed my eyes. “I could say the same to you.”
“Indeed, you could.” His gaze roamed over me, like he was trying to peer through my skull and into my brain. He twisted my hair between his fingers like a strand of silk, rendering me in place. “You’re frustrated that you don’t know why Tatiana has chosen now to reveal herself. I can see your mind trying to find the answer but coming up short.”
I wrenched my head back, hair pulling painfully from his grip. “No.”
“Yes,” Konstantin replied.
I felt naked, exposed. Every inch of my skin was hot; I was burning. “Just shut up, Konstantin. I’m trying to keep a toddler asleep.”
“I already agreed to be quieter. Yet you’re still here.”
I was still here. I couldn’t leave. There was something deep inside me that was preventing me from walking out of the study, something that was preventing me from leaving Konstantin.
My cheeks were flushed as I said, “I’m leaving.”
It took all my strength to turn around and head back toward my bedroom. Unattainable, unattainable, unattainable.
I didn’t even make it to the hallway, before Konstantin pushed me up against the door. The knob dug painfully into my back, but all my discomfort was forgotten as Konstantin held up my chin, grip firm but not rough.
His brown eyes stared into mine, desperately trying to find something in my mossy green depths.
“Let me go,” I gritted out.
Konstantin’s features darkened. “Not again.” His thumb reached out, gently caressing my bottom lip. I felt the touch ricochet through my entire body. “What’s the word?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He leaned in closer, his scent overwhelming my lungs and brain. “The word on repeat in your mind right now. I can almost hear it.” His lips scraped over my temple. “Maybe if you’re quiet, I’ll be able to make it out.”
I gulped. “There’s no word.”
“Don’t be dishonest, Elena.” Konstantin held up one of my hands, fingers roaming gently over the ink on my skin. “Yearning,” he read, “traitor, exhausted, liar. I can only imagine what these are referring to.”
I tried to free myself from his grip, but he didn’t relent. “I wanted to write your nickname down,” I hissed, “but it would be inappropriate to say in front of the kids.”
Amusement glinted in his expression. “I’ll bet.”
Neither of us moved for a second, breathing each other in.