Page 20 of Demitri

The color in Demitri’s face drains. He pushes his plate away, and his eyes dart from the door to the windows and back. “No,” he whispers, more to himself than to us, I think.

“That’s why we think you’re in danger, son. He’s starting to make waves asking around for you. And I’m afraid if he finds you…”

“What?” I ask before I can stop myself. “If he finds him, what?”

“I’m dead. And anyone suspected to be attached to me is dead, too.”

I see the fear in his eyes, the sweat breaking out on his forehead, the bob of his throat when he swallows.

“Who is Andrey Novikov?”

“He was Ivan’sKurkhan.”

“What’s that?”

“His hunter. Or enforcer. He’s the one who dealt with those deemed disloyal. The last time I saw him, he promised he’d get me back for bringing down the family. For telling the secrets. For selling all of them out.”

“Why is he not in jail?” I ask.

“Because he’s never been caught. There’s no proof that he’s the one doing the things other than me. I’m the only one who’s seen him in action.”

“What do we do?” I ask.

“We keep our boy safe, and we let all those agencies who get their rocks off taking down the bad guys do their jobs.”

“How does my ‘sister’ play into this?” he asks, adding finger quotes around sister.

“She plans to legally claim a portion of the inheritance. Your father’s will stated his legitimate offspring inherited. But what’s legitimacy mean these days? One DNA test and, BAM! you’re legit. But she can only do so much through the courts without you being there. Without you, she doesn’t have much to claim.”

“This is all because she wants money?” Demitri asks. “Fuck, she can have the money. I don’t need it.”

“Bullshit. You give her the money and then what? She can only do so much without a dick, and you know it. She’ll reel you back in, put you as the head of the family, and do all the dirty work in your name. And when it all comes down again, you’ll bethe one to take the fall. Come on, kid, you know how this plays out.”

“How do we keep that from happening?” I look at both of them, hoping one of them has an answer.

“Technically, Demitri Pavlov doesn’t really exist anymore. John Smith does.”

“But there are enough people who know who I really am, that it doesn’t really matter, does it?”

“I know, which is why I tried to get you to leave. But did you listen? No. Couldn’t leave your girl, here, could you? I mean, it’s just your life.”

“I don’t need a fucking lecture, Aunt Linda. I’m not leaving. So what do we do?”

“You lie low. You stay hidden. No one knows about your connection to Mia, right?”

She looks at both of us, but I avoid her stare. This isn’t good.

“Who else knows his name, Mia?” Aunt Linda asks.

“My friends do.”

“That would be the other three that you meet with regularly?”

“Yes. And a couple others who also have some, umm, experience.”

“Who? I need their names.”

“Umm, Charity Rhodes and Lizzy Thorpe. I’m pretty sure her sister, Victoria, knows as well.”

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