“Not yet,” I grunt.
Connor sighs. “We gotta figure out what to do with her. Seamus is almost done with disposal. He’ll be here soon, and he’ll ask what the plan is. We need to have it figured out by then. I want to go home. It’s been a long night.”
I work my jaw. “We can call Sergei and ask for instructions. He’ll be expecting our call, anyways.” He orders and supervises our missions from afar.
Connor’s brows lift. “You want to run this all the way to the top of the flagpole?”
“Better than killing her.”
“You’ve killed women before,” Connor says, brows drawn. “What’s the problem here? You really want to fuck her that bad?”
“I killed women who weremenacesbefore,” I correct. “Not nineteen-year-old girls that keep to themselves. I told you; I’ve dug into her. I don’t think she’s going to be a problem. So, yeah, I’d rather call Sergei and ask for directions than end up reporting that there weretwodead bodies to dispose of tonight.”
Connor considers me for a long moment. A lot of people think I’m a sociopath, which is entirely inaccurate. I feel plenty of emotions and have empathy, I just don’t let my feelingscontrolme. And the people who thinkI’mbad have never run into Connor. Not only does hehave the build of Thor, he isactuallya sociopath. Killing a witness would be nothing to him—just a calculated move to keep our legion and operation safe.
To pass the time, I squat down and zip open Mira’s backpack, checking through it. There’s nothing remarkable to be found; an empty container that smells faintly like peanut butter, AirPods, a few notebooks.
“Fine,” Connor says once I’m done. “Call him. We’ll do what he says.”
I pocket Mira’s phone, pull my own out, and dial the infamous Bratva Pakhan himself. Not long ago, the Russian mob boss decided it was time to branch out from his home in the motherland and set down some roots in America. He has several businesses here, but no criminal dealings. He crossed paths with my unofficial legion on one of his state visits and was impressed with our skills, so he offered to sponsor us. Usually, I’d say fuck no to having a boss, but Sergei is an exception. He makes working in the criminal underground look like an art form; graceful, precise, lethal,beautiful.
Sergei picks up after three rings. “Status?”
“Mission complete. One complication.”
A pause comes over the line. Connor walks up to me, leaning close so he can listen to both sides of the conversation.
I hear Sergei’s muffled voice, presumably speaking to someone nearby. A moment later, he’s back with me. “Give me the overview.” His thick Russian accent seems more prominent than ever, making his order ring with command.
I tell him in clear, concise detail about our situation with Mira. She saw nothing. She heard what she thought was sex—hilarious. If I was fucking, there’d be a lot more noise—and ran. Connor and I went afterher, detaining her. She was compliant with our requests and seems to sincerely want to forget about this.
Sergei’s silent for two minutes after I finish, during which I feel my heart rate speed up. I might not know the girl personally, but I’ve learned plenty about her, and she doesnotdeserve to die. Certainly not before I’ve had a thorough taste of her.
“I see,” Sergei says. “What do you think is the best course of action?”
I know the words are a test. He wants to see what my response is and judge me off it. If I lie, he’ll know; the man is like a walking lie detector. He’d be able to tell even over the phone.
“I don’t want to get rid of an innocent,” I say, then allow my logic to take over. I distance myself from the intrigue Mira inspires, and think over the situation with sheer calculation, shedding my veil of emotions so I can see the facts clearly. “Letting her go right off the bat won’t be advisable, either. She’s shaken and possibly hurt. She might tell someone about this after she’s come back to her senses. Better to watch her for a while until we know.”
Another pause ensues. “You have regard for her,” Sergei says, sounding faintly surprised.
“No—”
“Not a question, soldier, I can hear it in your tone. Donotlie to me,ever.” He pauses, letting his unspoken threat sink in like a blade into flesh. “Do you know her?”
Connor smirks; I glare at him.
“Not really, sir. We’ve run into each other before. She intrigued me, so I looked into her.”
“Have you been intimate?” Sergei questions.
“No. She doesn’t even remember me.”
“What have you learned about her in your…looking into her?”
“Full name is Miranda Greene. She’s nineteen years old. Animal science major, several semesters ahead on studies. Reclusive, doesn’t have many friends, but enough people know her that her disappearance would raise eyebrows.”
“Is she malleable? Will she listen to orders?”
