Tone frowned.“Excuse me?”
Raze looked at me, not her.
“If Russia’s too dangerous for my sister, it’s too dangerous for my brother.”
Brother.
It was the first time he had used the word.
Raze stepped closer.
“I’m not letting her lose you.”
Silence stretched.
Then Atlas exhaled.
“He’s right.”
I looked at him.
Atlas adjusted the cuffs of his shirt, calm as ever.
“We take the jet and go together.We’ll be in and out in no time.”
He tilted his head.
“And after four years away, there’s no telling who you can trust.”
That was the problem.He was right too.
I looked back at Tone.Her eyes burned into mine.
She hated being left behind.But beneath the anger was fear.And that did something ugly to me.
I stepped closer, brushing my knuckles against her jaw.
“I’ll come back to you.”
It was a vow more than it was reassurance.
Her throat moved when she swallowed.
“You’d better.”
The jet wasin the air within four hours.
A dozen Cavalho soldiers were scattered toward the back of the plane.
I sat with Raze and Atlas toward the front, where Raze drank whiskey and stared out the window.
Atlas worked on his laptop like we weren’t flying into the graveyard of my past.
And I sat there staring at my reflection in the glass.
It has been four years since I’d left Russia bleeding.Four years since Rasputin died.
Four years since I’d seen my father.And now I was going back to bury him.
