Suddenly, behind me, the stairwell door I just came through slams shut.
The sound is loud through the quiet hallway.
Oops.
I move quickly now, approaching the door and gripping the handle, turning it slowly. I remember how she greeted me at Bogdan's, pressed against the wall behind the door.
That isn't happening again.
Worst case, I'll grab at air.
I shove the door open with my foot and spring forward, reaching behind it in one smooth motion.
My hand catches a thin, strong wrist.
Danika gasps, her body twisting as I yank her forward, and I quickly see it.
"Jesus, woman. What's with you and knives?"
"What the hell are you doing here?" she asks, trying to jerk her wrist free.
I twist it just enough to force her fingers open. The blade clatters to the concrete floor, and I step into her, pressing her back against the wall. My chest against hers. My hand pinning her wrist above her head.
"Now this is familiar," I say, smiling down at her.
Her eyes flash. "Get off me."
"Relax. I'm just making sure you don't stab me again."
She smiles back, sharp and dangerous, and then ducks.
The movement is lightning-fast. She spins around me, her free hand shoving my shoulder, and suddenly I'm the one against the wall. She's on the opposite side of the stairwell now, breathing hard, her dress slightly askew.
"Ohh," I say, turning to face her and smoothing out my jacket. "I like that move. Can you show me that again?"
"Give me my knife back," she says, nodding toward the ground. "And I'll show you anything you want."
I glance down at my feet, then bend to pick up the blade.
“Anything?” I ask.
She scoffs and rolls her eyes.
"I felt this on you, you know," I say, twirling the handle between my fingers. "Inside left thigh."
She doesn't respond. Just glances up at the third-floor door above us, her jaw tight.
"Waiting for your friends to join?" I ask, though I already know she's just as worried about anyone coming through that door as I am.
"You wouldn't want that," she says, brushing a loose strand of blonde hair behind her ear.
I smile. "You know, something's bothering me," I say and lean against the wall, relaxing my posture. "Why are you here?"
"What do you mean? It's a Volkov event. Why wouldn't I be?"
"No," I say, pointing around the stairwell with the tip of her knife. "I mean here."
She doesn't answer, but her eyes narrow, and I can tell she's thinking.
