Dmitry glanced to where Arrow stood and noticed Bullet and Bone beside her. He’d not heard them enter. They were almost too good at what they did, who they were.
“I sang songs to her. She enjoyed lullabies and up until her end she sang a particular one…”
“Bayu-bay,” Dmitry said automatically.
Arrow nodded. “I could not sing it well, she would say. She complained that my voice was not right, but Bone with her affinity for inflections picked it up and when my voice would desert me Bone would sing that one to her and she would laugh, Dmitry. Oh how she would laugh.”
“I held her hands, like so,” Bullet said, lifting her hands together as if in prayer.
Dmitry wanted to pull his heart from his chest and stomp on it. Maybe then the pain would stop.
“I asked her once if she was praying and she told me no. She said she was just cold and her brother, she called you nesti, always held her hands like this to warm them up. We shared our rations with her, Dmitry, as best we could. Bone took her punishments and Blade took her kills. She was our light and in the end she was our salvation. What you might never understand is that Ninka is why we survived. When the weakest of us all shattered that morning in Arequipa, we were formed from her ashes, from her pain. Without her we would have taken our own lives. Ninka gave us a reason to live,” Bullet finished in a whisper.
Bone walked to stand beside her sisters. “Joseph did not break her soul, Asinimov. She had tried so hard to be strong until that morning, but she never gave up her soul to him. Her body was destroyed but she left singing her lullaby and looking to the blue-blue sky.”
“It took us years to understand that. Even though it seemed her mind fractured, she was simply looking for a way to deal with what she didn’t know. When we pulled her small body to the edge of the clearing where she was killed we prayed over her and we became united. She is our beacon and revenge for her death has kept us moving, killing,” Arrow imparted, her voice dark and low.
“Who killed her?” Dmitry asked, the question pulled from his chest.
“It doesn’t matter because within seconds of the act he was dead also, a bullet to the center of his forehead,” Bullet told him.
“Thank you,” Dmitry said.
Bullet shrugged. “She was ours.”
“Mourn her as you knew her, Asinimov—lovingly and without reservation,” Bone urged.
He nodded.
“Goddamn him. What kind of monster does that to babies?” Adam bit out.
“He is a man filled with desire and drunk off power. We have waited years to take what is owed to us,” Arrow told them. “We have saved the ones we could.”
“Who is next?” Dmitry asked, shoving his sorrow down deep. Now wasn’t the time to mourn his sister.
“Do not ask us for what we cannot give you. We will not betray our plans,” Bone said fiercely.
Adam raised a hand. “We are here to help you. And before you argue, our goals are the same—eliminate The Collective.”
“I have no doubt that you have your own revenge to take on Joseph, but if you understand nothing else, try to understand this,” Bone demanded. “If we do not take him, we will break. He is ours and nothing you can do or say will allow us to give him to you. If we aren’t allowed to destroy the entirety of The Collective our pain and suffering will be for naught.”
“Let us help,” Dmitry pleaded.
Bone stared at him, her gaze locked and potent. “Is that not what you’ve been doing, Russian? For every time you’ve looked at me and seen something other than death, you have helped. For every time you’ve smiled at me, you have brought me from the edge of cliff so high had I jumped I would be lost. You. Have. Helped.”
“Adam Collins, you have pulled me from my darkness, stilled the violent waters of my mind and given me a reason to live after our vengeance is complete. What is that if not help?” Arrow asked.
“Rand Beckett, you offered me your heart when I didn’t have one of my own. You took it from your chest and placed it in mine and I will hold it safe knowing you will be here for me once I have done my duty. What is that if not help?” Bullet told her man.
Outside the storm raged. But inside, his heart clamored with a pain that would only dissipate with time. His mind jumbled with thoughts about a killer. And there, in his soul, was need for Bone.
“There is nothing more to say, Dmitry,” Rand concluded. “Sometimes words are no longer necessary.”
Rand walked to Bullet, wrapped her in his arms and carried her out of the room. Adam crossed to Arrow, grabbed her hand and led her up the stairs.
That left Dmitry and Bone, two enemies on the precipice of becoming lovers.
“You are still holding something back but now isn’t the time to discuss it. When you’re ready you’ll come to me. You need rest now,” Dmitry told her.