She directed her gaze to the fire.
Shepherd cracked his knuckles. Kira must have recognized that he had leverage over her, but he didn’t want to give her the wrong idea. That’s not what this conversation was about. Back when they were taking refuge at the hotel, Kira had spoken to him in English. Just once. She’d promised to watch Hunter if anything happened to Shepherd. Neither of them had spoken since. They’d been too busy with cleaning, repairs, contractors, and restoring a sense of normality.
“How much can you understand?” he asked.
“Enough,” she answered, her voice gentle like summer rain. Her accent was similar to Viktor’s, only the consonants softer.
“How long have you spoken English?”
“My father teach me, but his English was not good.”
“Does Viktor know?”
“Ne. He knows I speak Bulgarian and Russian.” She put her hands on her lap.
“That’s not the language you two speak.”
“It is ancient language of my mother. Gem is smart girl. She listens. She speaks Russian and other languages, so we are careful to not speak often around her. If she heard me speak Russian, she would try to speak with me, and Viktor does not want this.” Kira was clearly struggling to formulate her thoughts as she furrowed her brow and fidgeted. “Viktor wants secrets, and that cannot be when I understand. I am fast learner. I practice in my head and watch the moving pictures. There are many books here—old books—that translate like dictionary. Viktor say they belong to his family. Now they help me. I hearing you repeat words you want me to understand. More butter. More drink. More soup. I can cook and clean if I know what is my job.”
Her English was definitely broken, yet he understood perfectly. Hell, she made more sense than Viktor when he drank too much. The team frequently asked her to fetch things or perform various tasks, and over time, they noticed she appeared to understand. And if she understood the English alphabet, then looking at the grocery list online probably helped even more.
“Please do not tell secret to Viktor,” she begged, her eyes downcast. “When my father died, Viktor asked my circumstance. He lives in America with secret job and would only agree to take me if I never spoke Russian or Bulgarian. Only my mother’s language we could speak, and only when he speak to me. He does not want me to learn English or speak to tiny woman.”
Shepherd stifled a smile. She must have meant Gem.
Kira gazed at the fire. “I have no family. My father was not rich man. It was not safe for me to live there alone. I am here because Viktor and my father were, eh… good friends.”
“Why would your father make you live a sheltered life?” Shepherd thought his words might confuse her, so he added, “Why did you live alone with him? No friends? No job?”
She seemed surprised by the question as her eyebrows drew together. “My father was great leader of wolves.”
“A Packmaster?”
She shrugged, probably uncertain of the terminology. “My mother was… mph.” She got stuck on a word. “She was not like him. The wolves did not want her. The pack…” Kira used her hands to make a gesture of separating, and he nodded. “They lived happy life. I only left farm to deliver letters between Viktor and Valko.”
“Your father.”
“Da. I never meet Viktor. My father was friend to him.”
Keystone was the worst place for a sweet girl like her.
“I beg you not to say my secret,” she pleaded, clasping her hands together. “This is good land. There is much work. I am hard worker. I am useful. I make no trouble. I can farm land if you need more.”
“Don’t go farming the land. We make enough money to buy food.”
“When I come here, there is so much dirt on everything. Spiderwebs, dirty windows, candle wax on floor, dishes in sink, and I do not even speak to the mountain of ashes in fireplace. You live like pigs.”
Shepherd barked out a laugh and then buried it. “Sorry, I’m not laughing at you. It’s true.”
“I have place here. I cannot take chance of Viktor sending me away and erasing my memories.”
Shepherd gave it some thought. Viktor was kind and generous, but he also carried the responsibility of being a good leader. That meant making tough decisions to protect his team and organization. While he might like Kira and feel an obligation to her father, at the end of the day, she was a liability. There was zero guarantee that Viktor would warm up to the idea that Kira had deceived him. She clearly had no other place to go, and Shepherd felt beholden to her for looking out for his son.
“I promise I won’t say anything,” he said, looking her firmly in the eye. “But it’s dangerous for you to listen to our conversations.”
She adamantly shook her head. “I do not listen. When you speak of important matters, I leave room. I go away. I look at dishes and hum a song. I do not listen. I take care of boy. He is such good boy.”
Shepherd flicked his gaze to the fire, suddenly overwhelmed by how passionately she cared for his son. Yet there was a burning question he’d always wanted to know. “Why are you afraid of me?”
