I hesitate, running fingers through still-hot ash. This was the stove at one point. Now it’s mostly twisted, blackened metal. No pots, no pans, no dirty dishes. No indication of life.
“This was one of Artyom’s safe houses. I was hoping for—“ I wave a hand, not even sure how to answer that. “Bodies, ideally.”
“If there was anyone living here, they’re long gone now.”
I slam my fist on the counter. It splinters and cracks. The refrigerator tilts at an odd angle and a table is pressed in the corner, still surprisingly intact.
“Fucking frustrating,” I mutter, eyes on the floor, trying to envision my next move.
“It’ll be okay. We’re here. We’ll find them.” Nika touches my back and presses herself to my side.
If she weren’t here, I’d be tearing this place to pieces. I’d be destroying it, purely out of frustration, but she’s keeping me calm. There’s something about her, the way she seemed so excited to see the city, fascinated by every little detail. It’s hard to feel jaded and angry with her around.
But I can probably manage it anyway.
“I’ve got my entire force trying to figure out where Artyom’s staying. We need to find him soon.”
“Aren’t you in a better position than him?”
I shake my head, looking down at my hands. I swore not to lie, but I haven’t been able to tell her this part yet.
I’m too fucking angry and ashamed.
All this work and I still don’t have the backing of the Dragons. Even now, they see me as nothing more than a usurper and an upstart, even though I’ve managed to take over a Bratva as a complete outsider, managed to ambush and take down a major Turkish warlord, managed to outflank and fight off dozens of other combatants to this point. Artyom has eluded me so far, but if given more time, I’d get him eventually.
And they still don’t give a shit.
“When the vote happens, I’m going to lose.” I say it softly. I can’t bring myself to look at her.
“Why do you think that?”
“Lucy told me. My Dragon brother-in-law’s top lieutenant. If she says it’s true, then it’s true.”
She moves closer, mouth pressing against my arm. “Then you’re trying to make sure it won’t come to a vote at all.”
“Exactly. If Artyom’s dead, they have to choose me."
"No, it won’t matter. They’ll pick you. They’ll have to.”
“Nika—“
“No, Gabe.” She pulls my arm and makes me look at her. “Listen to me. I don’t care about their internal politics. Whatever my cousin’s doing to win them over, it doesn’t matter. You’re the better man. I know it and they’ll know it too.”
“That’s not how it works.”
“Then we’ll find him. We have time, right?”
“A week at most.”
“That’s enough.” She gets on her toes and kisses me. “We can do this. You know we can.”
“Nika…” I trail off, holding her wide, innocent eyes with mine. This fucking girl. She’s talking about killing her own cousin like it’s nothing. She’s practically acting like my cheerleader, and she really believes it too, like I can do anything. It’s addictive and intoxicating, her sincerity right now, and maybe she’s right, maybe I really can do this.
“My confidence has never wavered before,” I say, pulling her to me, lacing my fingers through her hair. I lean against the burned kitchen counter as I bathe in her smell. Ash and perfume. “I’ve always been like this. Radical self-belief.”
“I noticed. You’re a cocky bastard.”
“It’s not even that, it’s more like I trust that I’m as good as I think I am, no matter what happens. If I fail a test, that doesn’t matter, because there will be other tests in the future, and I’ll pass all those. I’ve never slowed down, never stopped to think before, but now?—“
