“My beautiful daughter,” she whispers, holding her other hand to my cheek so that she’s cupping my face. “You were the best of us. If you remain, so does hope.”
“I can’t do this without you,” I cry, wishing she could hold me. “I never could.”
She shakes her head, her smile still soft. “Oh, my beloved. You are stronger than you think. And your path has only begun.” Then she nods over my shoulder.
“What?” I ask, confused as I turn to look.
I see Kharon running towards me on his knuckles at full blast. It’s as if my desire alone has brought him back to me.
“You can visit me again,” my mother says. “Now go.”
“Mom!” I cry, but she turns and heads back up the hill just as Kharon reaches me.
“How are you here?” he asks.
At first there’s only my confused rush of joy at seeing him. Then I think, of course he’s here in my dream. I was just thinking of him and my mother before I fell asleep. I throw myself into his many arms.
Like always, all six close around me. But then he immediately sets me back on my feet and releases me. “Ksenia, answer me. What has happened?” He sounds worried. Really worried.
And he starts looking all over my body, searching like he’s a doctor looking for injury.
“I’m fine,” I laugh, wiping tears from the impromptu dream manifestation of my mom—it feltsoreal—as I pull away from him. “This is just a dream.”
The worried look comes back to his face. “What do you mean, a dream? Ksenia, how did you get here? Did—” He gulps a huge breath. “Did your uncle find you?” And then he falls to his knees in front of me.
I reach for his shoulders, confused. “No. No! I just fell asleep and?—”
But then I blink. He thinks I’m dead. He thinks I’m here because I’m dead. Wait, am I actually— What if my uncledidfind me and murdered me in my sleep?
“Kharon, I don’t know what’s going on,” I say. “But you’re scaring me. I was just going to sleep, and then I was here. I thought it was a dream.” I swing around to watch my mother’s retreating form. Wait, is he saying?—
I look back at him. “Am I reallyhere?”
“Where are you?” he demands. “On the other plane. Tell me where you are.”
I blink, so confused. “I’m in Helsinki. I’d know if I was dead!” Wouldn’t I? I blink, but Kharon just winks out of existence in front of my eyes.
“Hey!” I say, waving my hands where he just was. “What the hell?!” I run forward, then let out a yell of frustration. Which feels good, so I scream really loud.
I turn around, all but jogging in circles for several minutes. I try to look for my mom, but she’s nowhere to be found.
And then, as I stare up at the sky, it’s suddenly hard to swallow. I frown and put a hand to my throat.
I cough, but that doesn’t help. . . I’m choking, unable to breathe or swallow?—
Which is when I startle awake?—
Only to find myself back in my bedroom in the tiny Helsinki apartment with Uncle Pavel’s hand around my throat.
Fuck. I knew it was all just a dream.
I scramble for the gun I keep at my bedside, but another of my uncle’s men catches my hand, slamming it painfully against my bedside table.
Uncle Pavel laughs, and I wince when he spits on my cheek. “Not so big and mighty now. I don’t know what tricks you had in St. Petersburg, but my men have been watching you ever since you came into the city, and you are all alone. No one and nothing will save you now.”
His hand around my throat squeezes. “And you will learn thatno onethreatens Pavel and lives.”
Maybe it wasn’t a dream—it was a premonition. Because apparently, I’m about to join my mother and father in the afterlife.
