Zaitsev and Belova arrive with weapons drawn, take in the wreckage and holster them again. Zaitsev locks both arms around Danya and hauls him backwards while Belova catches Lachlan beneath the shoulders.
In harried Russian, Zaitsev scolds them both and tells them to get over to training right now, work it out on the mats.
Lachlan lets himself be pulled off, deeply ashamed of himself, but Danya tears free without looking anywhere near Lachlan. He leaves by slamming the door open so wide the square of glass cracks.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Mimi starts having nightmares back-to-back.
It hasn’t been an issue since she was younger, when she would wake screaming about Belkin, the Morning Momma who betrayed her.
These are different. She doesn’t scream, only wakes exhausted and restless, whispering things to Mari that Lachlan can’t hear.
Blaire says it will pass. The best thing they can do is teach Mimi to recognise the dreams, wake herself up and calm down, but Lachlan hates that. He doesn’t want his little girl to have to learn such a thing.
She doesn’t ask him to squish them anymore.
Doesn’t ask him to kill the bad dreams.
He would if he could.
Anything to make her feel safe again.
When he asks what they’re about, she frowns deeply and searches her memory with visible effort.
‘Can’t ’member.’
‘That’s all right. Why don’t you draw them for me?’
‘That helps?’
‘Absolutely, baby girl.’
‘Do you draw your bad dreams?’
If he did, it would always be the same thing.
‘I write them down sometimes. I can’t draw like you can, princess. You’re a skilled artist.’
‘What’s a skilled?’
‘It means you’re good at something.’
‘You’re good at lots, Daddy. Being wall, being pole, being a bodygarden. You’re good at killing,’ she reels off, reaching for her drawing pad and colouring box. ‘You used to be good at making Jewel happy.’
Lachlan looks down.
‘Everyone has different skills,’ he says.
‘Why?’
‘Because everybody is different.’
Mimi accepts this easily.
She selects a red pencil and begins.
✴