Midnight Sanctuary (Bugrov Bratva #2)

I look out the exposed windows at the mass of waving trees before me. I have to protect them all, all the innocent lives hiding out behind these walls. If I can’t, then who am I? What is the point of my crown if my kingdom is open to any vulture who wants to rip off a hunk of it for themselves?

I walk over to the window. I’ve been trying to do this single-handedly from the moment Lev was taken. But true strength is admitting when you need help.

I may be the pahkan, but I can’t protect the family all by myself.

Perhaps the first step to victory is accepting that.





36





ALYSSA





Uri won’t allow any of us to leave the cabin. It’s a beautiful hideaway, but with six of us living in it and a limited number of things to do, it’s quickly starting to wear on everyone’s nerves. Especially after a week of confinement.

There’s also the fact that both Lev and Polly are having trouble adjusting. For Lev, it’s a break in his usual routine, a change of environment he wasn’t prepared for. He misses Svetlana and George and his video games and the blackout curtains over his windows.

For Polly, it’s about reorienting to life outside the confines of captivity. It’s about shedding the fear she’s been carrying with her for the last few weeks. It’s about trying to process what she’s been through.

I’ve taken to sleeping with her most nights now. The nightmares came back after the sleeping pill wore off and it’s not like we can drug her every night. I know Uri is bothered that we rarely sleep together, but he doesn’t say a word. He just wears that pinched grimace on his face that seems to read, Whatever she needs is what must happen.

Polly isn’t the only one who’s having trouble sleeping. I spend most nights tossing and turning right along with her. My growing belly is getting more and more unwieldy but I can only blame a piece of my discomfort on my pregnancy. The rest is due to fear.

Every time I try to sleep, Boris Sobakin pops back into my head. I picture his sinister leer, his beady eyes, the way he had looked at me like I was a piece of meat at the market.

I’m on my usual hamster wheel of anxiousness when Polly groans in her sleep, her head lashing back and forth as though she’s trying to keep something from touching her face.

“N-no… no… no…”

I don’t wait for the nightmare to get worse; I sit up and shake her awake. “Hey, Polly, it’s okay; you’re safe. You’re in the cabin with me, with your brothers and cousin…”

Nudging her gently, I keep talking until her eyes flicker open. There’s a thin sheen of sweat along her brow and when she opens her eyes, I notice a tear crystalize at the tips of her eyelashes.

“A-another dream…?”

“Yeah, sweetheart, I’m afraid so.” I reach over to my bedside table and pick up the glass of water I leave there every night. “Here,” I say, handing it over to her. “Take a sip.” She sits up and takes the glass from my hand, pale-faced and tired. “Was it a bad one?”

Polly shrugs. “They’re all bad. This one felt more like a memory. I was in Agapov’s basement, tied up. Except… Uri never comes for me.”

Her lip trembles. In the darkness, wearing one of Uri’s too-big shirts to sleep in and with her hair mussed in a frizzy halo around her head, I really see the fourteen all over her. She’s so young. Way too young to have gone through something this monstrous. It’s not fair.

I glance down at my charm bracelet, thinking about my Ziva, who barely got to live before she died. I guess life’s not fair in general. I know that as well as anyone.

“It is over, though, isn’t it?” Polly rasps suddenly.

I take the glass from her hand and set it back down. I have no desire to lie to her but in the current state she’s in, I don’t see how the truth will help. “Yes, honey,” I say gently. “You’re safe now.”

“Then why are we still here?” she protests. “If there isn’t a threat to us anymore, we should be back home.”

I keep forgetting: Polly is not Lev. She can’t be mollified with half-assed explanations. She can’t be distracted by new toys or new video games.

“We will be soon,” I say. “It’s just that your brother wants to beef up security measures around the mansion before we move back there. Just so that you have complete peace of mind.”

Polly looks down at her hands. She’s bitten her nails clean off. A few have even started to bleed at the cuticles. “Peace of mind,” she scoffs. “I don’t know if I’ll ever have that again.”

I take up her hands in my own. “You will, Polly. You’re stronger than you know and so much more capable than you believe.”

She gives me a small, probably-fake smile. “Thanks for staying with me. I’m glad you’re here.”

I lightly rap the back of her knuckles and smile back. “Stop it or you’re gonna make me cry. Now, lie back down and close your eyes. I’m right here. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

I have no business making her promises like that, but sometimes, you just have to say the words and hope they’ll prove true. She does as I asked, curling up with the blankets raised to her chin and letting her face ease.

After a while, her breathing evens out into the rhythms of sleep.

I hope for her sake it’s a dreamless one.





37





ALYSSA





I’ve just snuck upstairs to get a few minutes to myself when the door opens and Uri walks in. I can’t even bring myself to sit up, but that’s fine, because he seems perfectly content to collapse into bed beside me.

“I was gonna come down in a bit,” I protest meekly.

He rolls onto his side, head propped on his hand, and smirks. “You wanted some peace and quiet. You don’t have to explain that to me.”

Chewing my lip, I ask, “Do you think anyone will miss us if we just stay up here for the rest of the night?”

“I’m gonna do you one better,” he replies. “But it does involve getting out of this bed.”

“Rain check.”

“Not an option, narushitel. Trust me: I’ll make it worth your while.” He pushes off the bed and I hear him walk towards the door. He doesn’t leave, though. It sounds like he’s picking something up and walking it back over to me. “This is for you.”

I force myself upright and stare at the two boxes he’s holding. “For me?”

“For you,” he repeats. “Open the big box first.”

I pull open the package to find a pretty summery dress nestled between layers of tissue paper. It’s been so long since I dressed up. Hell, it’s been a while since I even wanted to dress up.

“Are we going somewhere?” I ask hopefully.

“You’ll find out soon enough. Go and get changed. Once you’re ready, you can open the second package.”

“So bossy.”

“I don’t think that’s actually a complaint, is it?”

Grinning, he slaps my ass as I walk my dress into the bathroom, feeling an instant uptick in my mood. I shimmy out of my clothes and into the new garment. I swear there must be some kind of magic in the stitching, because as soon as it slides over my body, I’m transformed from a baby incubator into an actual person again.