“Da,”I close my eyes for a moment and her thumbs smooth over my cheeks.
“Alexi? Please don’t close your eyes. Please!” Her voice is high and terrified.
“Just for a moment…” I manage. “Just resting.”
My wife’s voice fades away as I slip back into darkness.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
In which Alexi wraps up some loose ends.
Alexi…
Lucya is scrabbling desperately for a solid piece of ice, her mittenless fingers leaving streaks of blood on the frozen surface. Her eyes, those green eyes like sea glass on the beach are wide and terrified. She’s so little, why is she alone?
“Moy lyubimyy,my beloved, come back to me…
I’m holding your hand. I won’t let go. You come back to me now. We need you. It’s time for you to wake up.”
There’s pressure on my fingers, heat from a hand squeezing mine. God, I haven’t been warm since Nikolai pulled me from the water, and the feel of this fiery hand on my chilly skin spreads through my system, warming my feet and legs, my arms, face, and chest. I feel her body curved around me and I drag in a sigh of relief.
MyKolibri.
“There you are,” Lucya says, her voice thick with emotion. She’s wrapped every inch of herself around me, and it feels so good that I let out a groan of relief. “Am I hurting you?” She pulls back anxiously and I snake my arm around her waist, dragging her closer again.
“Stay right where you are.” My voice is rusty-sounding.
Her warm fingers go back to stroking my cheek, over the new scar gifted to me from Dmitri, may his soul rot in hell.
“Does this hurt?” she asks sadly.
“No more than anything else.” God, I sound ancient. Did I wake up in the next century? “What time…”
“You’re asking what time it is? You’ve been unconscious for twenty-four hours,” she says, “I had to threaten Nikolai with violence to go get some rest. Damien is just outside the door. I don’t think this hospital will ever recover from your visit.”
“Would that be because of me, or because of you?” I manage, opening my eyes. She’s dimmed the lights, but I can see I’m attached to several machines, tubes snaking out of me.
“A little of both,” she admits, finally sounding more amused and less terrified. “There might have been some screaming, though I would like to point out that it was your brothers that threatened the surgeon’s life, not me.”
“Highly motivating, I’m sure,” I agree, watching her face. Even with dark circles of exhaustion under her eyes, nothing has ever been as beautiful as this woman.
“Who else survived?” she asks, spine stiffening and bracing for the worst.
“Artur and Samuil were hurt pretty badly, Sam’s still in the hospital.”
“I’m glad they're alive,” she smooths my blanket. “Pytor?”
“No. I’m sorry. He didn’t make it. David was killed, too.”
I watch her face crumple before she sucks in a breath and keeps going, "Pytor started off by hating having to guard me."
"He cared about your safety, very much," I say.
"I know," she smiled, hastily wiping away her tears. "He was a good man and he took his responsibility seriously. I think I was softening him up a bit, toward the end. Does he have a family we can help? I'd like to talk to them."
"He didn't." I move slightly, ignoring the persistent drumbeat of pain in my chest. "He'd lost a daughter when she was in her twenties, cancer, I think. I knew he would give his life for you."
"I want to hold a proper funeral for him and David when we get back home," she says.
