Page 144 of Nemesis

“The ballerina!”

Octavia laughs again, scooping my sister out of my arms and settling her against her own hip. “Yes! My name’s Octavia.”

“Ot…Oct…” my sister stutters, fumbling through the syllables.

“How about Tavi?”

“Tavi,” my sister repeats, then nods her head decisively. “You like Vasi.”

My cheeks heat—I don’t fucking know why.

“Yep. I love Vasi. He tried to get away from me, but I tricked him into coming back. I even worked extra hard to steal you, too.”

She…

She loves me?

I don’t think I’ve ever felt so high in my entire fucking life. If they bottled the pure joy racing through my veins, a single drop would sell for billions.

“I love him too!” My sister throws her arms around Octavia’s neck. “Don’t worry, Tavi. I won’t let him leave. I don’t like it when he leaves, either.”

I come up behind them, wrapping both into my chest. “I won’t leave again.”

“That’s right,” Octavia says with a sickly sweet voice. “Because you, my friend, are getting a tracker. Maybe a leash, too—what’d you think, Anya?”

“Like a puppy! CAN WE GET A PUPPY?”

“No—” I start with a sigh.

“Yes!” Octavia says at the exact same time.

Anya looks up between us, trying to figure out who has more authority on the whole puppy issue. I frown, sighing even heavier.

“Fine.” I just know they’re gonna name it something like Sparkles and force me to clean up all the creature’s shit.

Still, the resounding squeals in my arms are almost worth the tiresome promise.

The car rumbles along the road as buildings rise around us, lighting up the dark sky. Vasiliy’s blue eyes sparkle in the dim lighting, holding so many thoughts and questions that I can’t keep up. I haven’t dropped his hand since I found it. With the small child sleeping between us, that singular point of contact is the only thing holding my mind steady.

The car jerks in traffic, and a horn blares into the air. Anya blinks awake, lifting her little head from my lap.

“It’s alright,” I soothe, drawing my free hand over her brown curls. “We’ll be home soon.”

She blinks. I’m not prepared for the trust that fills her eyes. It hits my chest like a fucking typhoon. That shade of blue is so similar to Vasiliy’s that my mouth dries. She doesn’t say another word before dropping her head back onto my thigh. After a few minutes, little puffs of air tickle my leg, evening out into relaxed snores.

I’ve known about the child for months. We’ve discussed her in quiet fantasies and concerned speculations, but I only ever saw her in terms of Vasiliy. I had to retrieve her for him. We needed her out of his uncle’s grasp so she could no longer be used as leverage.

So, naturally, I was unprepared for the wave of possessiveness that crashed into my carefully reconstructed mind at the child’s presence. It’s the only thing that’s managed to interrupt the dominant bloodlust.

Mine.

This kid is mine.

Not only because she shares blood with the reason I keep breathing. It’s more than that. I’ve never wanted to have children—not with those terrible words still clanging around in my head.

Condemned children create condemned children.

I have no interest in making a new life in this world, only to leave it behind on those very steps. But this girl? She’s not condemned. I won’t allow it. She will never spend a night on a cot, wondering if the lady who strolled in to choose a kid will return in the morning. She will never slip down the fire escape, simply because no one cares whether she makes it to the street.