“Just waiting on weapons.”
She nodded. “I’ll get them. You’re all dismissed.”
We began to file out but she called my name. “Not you, Elena.”
I hung back, ignoring the nasty looks sent my way.
When the room was empty, she asked, “Have you been settling in okay?”
“Fine.”
“Good, I’m happy to hear that.” Tatiana collapsed back into her chair, the faint glimmer of exhaustion peeking through the fine lines of her face. “I can feel the bosses gearing up to strike,” she said. “Their breaths are on my neck.”
“You’re being paranoid.”
Her eyes cut to me. “Paranoia keeps people alive. You know that, Elena.”
I didn’t refute her statement.
Instead, I strolled closer, leaning against the table with my hip. My eyes darted over the maps quickly, cataloguing the names and dates I read.
“They won’t find you. None of them would get their shoes dirty in sewer water.”
That made her smile faintly. “I suppose you’re right, but we can’t underestimate them. Especially if they’re joining forces.”
“You really think they would join forces?” I asked. “None of them seem like the type.”
Tatiana looked at the dark walls, expression drifting. “Did I ever tell you about how this happened to me, Elena?”
“Your father left you and your mother for a younger woman...and son. You both fell into poverty and your mother passed away.”
“She died with her arms wrapped around me,” she said. Her tone wasn’t sad or happy, instead airy and dark, like she was lost in a nightmarish memory. “Sometimes when I fall asleep, I can still feel them. I can feel her sweaty skin and fever, feel her shaky chest and cracked lips. No dignity–my father didn’t let her die with any dignity.”
“Neither did mine.”
“Fathers,” Tatiana sighed. “I think about him often. Do you think about your father?”
“I still have nightmares about him,” I answered honestly. “I can see him doubling over, clutching his chest. Sometimes he knows I’m the one who poisoned him, sometimes he doesn’t.”
“I like to think he knew. It makes me feel smug.”
I felt my lips twitch. “Me too.”
Tatiana peered at me. In the dim light, her eyes looked closer to black than they did to grey-blue. “I decided my fate the moment I couldn’t feel her pulse anymore,” she said. “I knew as my mother passed away with me in my arms, that the world needed to be punished. The men who abandoned her, and the women who betrayed her. All I had was my brain and beauty–both served me well.”
“Clearly.” I gestured around me. “You have a kingdom at your command.” A shit kingdom, but a kingdom, nonetheless.
“I see myself in you, Elena. Younger and hopeful, but myself. I look at you and see the little girl who took one look at Konstantin Tarkhanov and knew he would be the perfect safety blanket.”
“Why did you choose Konstantin?”
Tatiana looked thoughtful. “I was seventeen or eighteen–young–and working as a receptionist for a known criminal. Konstantin took down his organization...but he let me leave before the guns started going off. Even passed me my bag and coat, warning me to get as far as possible before things got dangerous.” It sounded like my husband. “I didn’t. I just waited on the street for him and Artyom to finish the bloodshed. When he saw me waiting, he offered me a job.”
“It wasn’t good enough?”
“Not even close,” she laughed. “I watched for years as he amassed power and my hatred for him grew stronger and stronger. Every time I looked at him, all I could see was my father.”
I gritted my teeth to stop myself from snapping at her. Konstantin was nothing like any man Tatiana had ever known, especially not her pathetic father.
Her eyes went to the fading bruise. “I guess he was more like my father than I had previously thought.”
“What about your son?” I asked. “Don’t you miss him?”
“I regret not being able to save him,” she admitted. “I could save her, but I couldn’t save him.”
I could save her.
My brows drew together. “Her? Who are you talking about–?”
The world shattered.
The ground beneath my feet and roof above my head shuddered, rumbling like thunder in the sky. Dust fell down from the ceiling and cracks splintered up the side of the concrete.
The only thing that I could think was: This wouldn’t have survived a nuclear attack. What a waste of money.
Tatiana sprung to action. “What was that?” She demanded. She beelined for the door but I side stepped, blocking her path.
“You’re staying here with me.”
Realization struck her expression immediately. “You.”
“Me,” I confirmed.
“I will destroy you, Elena, if you do not get out my way,” she hissed. “I have been crawling for too long. I will crawl no longer.”
“You’ve got no weapons,” I said. “What are you doing to do?”
The decision clicked in her mind like a door slamming shut.
Tatiana lunged and we hit the ground. Pain ricocheted through me as her fingers wrapped around my throat, pressing down on my windpipe.
I scratched at her face, summoning every inch of power within me. I wasn’t going to die here, I wasn’t going to be overpowered by her–
“Let her go!” thundered a voice.
A gun cocked.
Tatiana’s hands relaxed when the barrel of said gun pressed to her forehead. “Who are you?” she said to someone I couldn’t see.
“Agent Stephen Kavinsky.”
The FBI.
My eyes closed as pure relief flooded through me. Konstantin had done his part; I had done my part.
It was over.
When I opened my eyes, I met Tatiana’s stare. She was peering down at me with an expression of horror and betrayal.
“You’ll regret this, Elena,” she hissed. Kavinsky told her to shut up.
I coughed, my lungs still trying to find air. “I doubt it. I highly doubt it.”
33
Elena Tarkhanov
I was surprised with how much I’d forgotten.
My dreams and thoughts used to be haunted with images of my father’s graying body and ex-husband’s wide, empty eyes. I used to wear my mother’s weakness like a stain around my mouth. My apathy, my intelligence, my restlessness–all frustrations and weaknesses that had disappeared into the wind of time.
I was better for it. I knew that now.
I had more trouble forgetting about Tatiana. In the first few months, she stood in doorways and at the ends of hallways, ignored but never forgotten. On the edge of every conversation her name went unspoken and when Anton would ask questions, he was given vague answers.
Then, eventually, like all things, she was forgotten. Her chair at the dinner table was filled, her room was repurposed, Anton stopped asking questions. She was so lost in the sea of time that the first time she creeped back into my mind, years later, I stopped in place, like I had suffered a scare.
When she refused to leave my thoughts, I went to visit her.