"Whiskey," Dimitri said. "The Yamazaki, please. If you still have it."
"We do." Her eyes met his and lingered for a moment. "I'll be right back with your drinks."
As she walked away, Petrov leaned across the table with a knowing look. "See? She even remembers what we drink. She paid attention."
"It's her job to remember."
"It's personal interest." Petrov sat back, looking pleased with himself. "I might not look it, but I know a thing or two about women."
Dimitri thought about Petrov's frequent visits to the brothel and decided not to comment.
Mattie returned with their drinks, and as she placed Dimitri's glass in front of him, he reached for it, and their fingers brushed. The contact sent a jolt through him that was entirely unexpected.
"Busy night?" he asked, just to keep her at the table for a little longer.
"Not too bad." She glanced around the crowded bar. "Manageable."
He glared at the immortals who were still leering. "Are they giving you any trouble?"
"I know how to handle them."
He sincerely doubted that. The immortal soldiers were the elite of this island, and they felt entitled. Combined with their complete lack of respect for women, it was a recipe for abuse. Ifthey decided to drag Mattie behind a bush and have their way with her, no one would stop them.
Talk about feeling useless and helpless. He wouldn't be able to even help her.
The thought sent a wave of rage that burned through the mushrooms' relaxing effects. He really needed to develop some deadly compounds and carry several syringes with him at all times.
"Do you get breaks, Mattie?" Petrov asked out of nowhere.
"Short ones," she said. "Why?"
Petrov looked at Dimitri and winked. "Just asking for my young friend here who is too shy to do it himself."
"I'm going to strangle you in your sleep," Dimitri hissed in Russian. "After I pour all of your vodka into the toilet."
Petrov lifted his arms in the air. "So violent. I was just trying to help."
Mattie blushed, smiled, and then moved to another table.
Petrov burst out laughing. "You're terrible at this. How did you ever manage to have a girlfriend?"
Dimitri had never been a ladies' man, and his last serious relationship had been at the university.
"I haven't had one in a long time. I was in a gulag for the past two years, remember?"
"Well, you've got an opportunity now." Petrov raised his glass. "The question is whether you're brave enough to go for it."
It wasn't a question of bravery. If he had met Mattie in a bar in Sydney, he would have asked her out in a heartbeat, and given the way she looked at him, there was a good chance she would have said yes. But they weren't in Sydney or in Moskva. They were in the land of immortal barbarians, and normal rules of conduct didn't apply here. The last thing he wanted was to put Mattie in even greater danger than she was already in.
Over the next hour, Petrov kept drinking and growing louder and more jovial with each glass, while Dimitri nursed his whiskey, hyperaware of Mattie's presence.
"Well, I'm out." Petrov stood, swaying only slightly. "I have an appointment with the lovely Anita." He clapped Dimitri on the shoulder. "I'm not going to offer you to join me because I know you want to stay and pine after the beautiful Australian. Good luck, my friend."
He wove his way toward the exit, leaving Dimitri alone at the table.
When Mattie came to collect Petrov's glass, Dimitri made his decision.
"Can I ask you something?" he said.
