Husband. The word has warmth creeping up the back of my neck, my toes curling.My husband.
“Hey. Sober up.”
I blink, realizing I’ve been caught staring. The slightest smile touches Nik’s lips. “Sorry. Were you saying something?” I quickly turn away, hoping he won’t be further amused by my embarrassment. “I didn’t sleep well last night.”
“Yeah? You were out pretty cold when I left this morning.” I say nothing to this, not trusting myself to speak, and he continues. “Look. I know you want to, but don’t trust Maya. Not yet. OK?”
“She’s messing with you,” I say, purposefully not turning. “She’s trying to play it all cool and coy. We can trust her.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. Zane.” He waits until I finally turn and look at him. “I’m the only person you can trust. OK?”
I hesitate, but I’m a little surprised by the intensity in his eyes. He really wants me to believe him. Or he really wants me to doubt Maya. Either way, it doesn’t really matter. I love them both, and I trust them both about as far as I can throw them.
Unfortunately, the only priority I can really have is my father. Friendship, allegiance, anarchy—whatever path the three of us choose, it has to come second.
So I simply nod and say, “OK.”
Nik points his chin at me. “Care for a rinse?”
I must gawp openly, because he begins laughing, a soft, deep, warm sound, and goes into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.
9
Nik
“I’m guessing you found this place on Craigslist?” Maya takes in the old suite with thinly-veiled disgust. “Who’s renting it to you? A colony of roaches?”
“Might as well be.” Actually, I own the building. It’s disturbingly old, structurally unsound, and inhabited by much worse than roaches.
But I keep the upper floor cleaned, and the generators I had installed keep it warm. I had it furnished last year, along with a few other safehouses around Philly. Dad doesn’t know. Well—he probably does. He knows everything, after all. I guess it’s just not interesting enough to merit any action.
“So. If we’re plotting a coup,” I say, “we gotta start somewhere.”
“Duh.” Maya flings down a bag of stuff she collected from her parents’ cabin, and flops down on top of it like it’s a bean bag chair. “I have a plan, obviously, but you’re not going to like it.”
“Am I?” Zane is running her fingers along a dusty window frame. She looks dazed, but not disgusted, and surprisingly, not afraid. “Or is every plan we come up with going to include me playing bait?”
“Probably the latter.” Maya flips out her phone. My knee-jerk reaction is to snatch it from her hands. But as much as I distrust my cousin, she has to think the opposite. My skin crawls, though, at the vague notion she’s informing Lebedev of our location, our plans, and Zane’s vulnerability. “Wanna hear?”
“Spit it out,” I mutter, leaning against the wall with arms crossed over my chest. Zane comes to my side, a gesture that feels so natural we might do it all the time, might be used to facing the world together. I’m surprised at how much it warms me.
“So. The wholebaitthing—I think that’s the entry point. Can we get men?”
“My dad won’t go for that,” I admit. My father told me this was my test. For it, I have only my own resources. Unfortunately, everyone I know answers to my father. “All we’ve got is us.”
“Not ideal.”
“I’d go so far as to say none of this is ideal,” Zane points out. “Look, whatever it is, let’s do it. I’m in.”
“Zane,” I begin, but she pins me with a look, one brow arched. “Alright. Fine. What’s the plan, Maya?”
“I pretend I’ve got her captured, and take her back to Lebedev’s HQ.”
“No fucking way,” I say, at the same time Zane says,
“Sounds like a plan.”
She looks at me, but there’s no way in hell I’m yielding. “Do you know how fast he’ll kill you?” I ask.
