“I don’t need nice,” I reply, annoyance creeping in despite myself. “I just want to go home.”
“I miss you,” he says quietly.
The words knock the breath from my lungs, and I hate that they do, hate that some small, traitorous part of me wants to lean into them instead of bracing against them.I want to be alone,I tell myself, ignoring the small sliver of my soul that wants the exact opposite. That part wants a father I can go to and be wrapped in a hug.
“I’ll think about it,” I say, which is a compromise I’m not sure I mean.
Before he can respond, I hear another voice faintly through the phone; deep, but unmistakable. It’s low enough that it almost feels like it’s vibrating against my ear. It's rough honey and hot iron.
“Bring her to Common Soul.”
My stomach drops.
The sound of Kazimir Baranov’s voice does something to my nervous system, sharp and immediate. I have to stop myself from swearing out loud.
Even if I can’t have you, Alyona, you’ll always be mine.
The memory of The Foundry two nights ago, coupled with hearing him unexpectedly feels like a tether. It’s like a leash running through the phones which connect to a collar around my neck. That feels, as I suck a breath in, disturbingly like his hand.
“That’s Kaz,” Liev says, unnecessarily. “He thinks?—”
“No,” I say automatically. “Absolutely not.”
“Alyona,” Liev starts, but Kaz says something else in the background. It’s too low for me to hear it, and there’s a brief murmur before my father speaks again. I stop on the street, people flowing around me, straining to hearmore. I want more.
“He says it’s quiet during the week,” Liev continues. “And that he can arrange it.”
Of course he can. Common Soul isn’t just expensive; it’s the kind of place people whisper about, the kind of restaurant that doesn’t list prices and doesn’t take reservations unless your name carries weight. I’ve seen it online, all candlelight and marble and impossibly elegant plates. It’s a world so far removed from mine it might as well be fictional.
“I don’t belong there,” I say flatly.
“You belong wherever you want to be,” Liev replies stiffly. There’s an edge to his voice, theVor v zakonecoming through. Even now it’s strange to me that my father is a part of this underworld. He’s probably killed men with his bare hands or put a bullet in their heads without fret.
Has Kaz?I wonder. That feeling around my throat tightening at the memory of his hands on me comes to mind. It shouldn’t turn me on that a killer made me come, but…
I close my eyes, pressing my fingers briefly to my forehead. This is turning into exactly the kind of emotional tug-of-war I don’t have the energy for today.
“Fine,” I say, exhaling. “But I’m bringing a friend.”
“Of course,” he agrees immediately, relief evident. “Whatever makes you comfortable.”
We settle on a time, and when the call ends, I stand there for a moment longer than necessary. My thoughts are now tangled and unsettled. I don’t like that Kaz’s voice lingered with me after the line went dead. I certainly don’t like how aware I am of him after days of trying to push him out of my head.
I call Devin as I walk quickly toward my apartment. She picks up on the second ring.
“Happy birthday to me,” I say when she answers.
“Oh my God,” she gasps. “Is it happening?” For the past three years of knowing her, I’ve resisted any kind of celebration she’s suggested. Devin’s always down for a party, and I’m a major buzzkill. I’m a stay-in-and-drink-whiskey kind of girl. I’m a sucker for those real estate shows and bad reality TV.
“It’s happening,” I confirm. “You get to come to dinner with me and my dad.”
“Hard pass,” she says immediately then adds, “Unless?—”
“It’s at Common Soul.”
There’s a shriek on the other end of the line. “I’m in. I don’t care if your dad is a vampire.”
Getting ready takes longer than it should. The clothes in my closet are suddenly a minefield of things that feel wrong on my body. Everything I try on is too tight, too shapeless, or looks like I’m trying too hard. I don’t tell myself I’m dressing for Kazimir, but I know I am. The awareness hums under my skin like an itch I can’t scratch. There’s no way he’s coming anyway; he merely suggested Common Soul. Right?
