Page 22 of Broken Embers

“And how do you propose we get you out of here?” I ask her.

“And what kind of information can you give us?” Nikolas adds. “We’re not just going to agree to your terms without a sample.”

Nadia looks at me first. “You offer for my hand in marriage, and we pretend to be engaged.” She looks at Nikolas and says, “Once we are out of Russia, you help erase us.”

“Us?” Nikolas’s brows shoot up. “Who is us?”

“My partner and I,” Nadia tells us, and I suddenly understand. “We want to get married and be free of this life we are forced to live.”

I’m struck by the thought that she doesn’t want to marry me either.

“Like Nikolas said, this is a big ask,” I tell her. “If your brother finds out what we’ve done, I could lose this alliance instead of cementing it.”

“He won’t. I have a plan,” Nadia says, glancing at the door. “Now what is it going to be?”

“We need proof you can help us,” Nikolas insists.

She nods, pulls out her phone, and calls someone. Speaking in rapid Russian, “It is me. Are you near her?”

We watch Nadia curiously. She stands and walks over to us. “We can not show this for long, or my contact will be discovered.”

She shows us her phone, and my heart slams against my rib cage. It’s Sabrina in what looks like a white prison uniform, sitting at a table in a large empty mess hall, picking at a bowl of… I lean closer.Fruit?

“How do we know this is today?” I ask, feeling Nikolas tense and suck in air when he sees Sabrina.

Nadia tells whoever is live-streaming this to us to show us proof that this is live. She holds up a newspaper with today’s date on it, and then, to prove she’s with Sabrina, accidentally bumps into the table, sending Sabrina’s bowl of fruit flying.

“What the fuck!” Sabrina springs to her feet. Fruit pieces are sticking to her clothes.

“I am sorry.” It’s a female voice. Laced with a heavy Russian accent as she speaks English to Sabrina.

“It’s real!” My voice is barely a whisper, and I look at Nikolas, who nods. I want to grab the phone and demand to know where the fuck they are but Nadia breaks the connection.

As Agafon walks back into the room, I take the two copies of the marriage contract and slam them in front of him.

“Sign these and Nadia and I are engaged,” I tell him, my tone brooking no argument and filled with impatience. I’ve seen her. I know Sabrina is alive and looking well despite being in some fucked-up Russian black-ops site. I don’t have time to waste with this bullshit. “We will iron out the details with therealvillage elder when he sees fit to grace us with his presence. Until then, Nadia comes with us tonight when we leave.”

“But…”

“I accept,” Nadia says, standing. “I will get my things.” She grabs a pen from the table and signs both copies where her name appears. She shoves the pen at Agafon. “Sign.” My eyebrows shoot up. There was no meekness in that command and I notice Agafon nearly shits in his pants at it.

He nods, looking a little shaky and me wondering why the fuck anyone would leave this prick in charge of anything. I shake the thought from my head. It’s not my problem if they think he could protect the town from anything.

“We’re engaged,” I tell Nadia, who nods, and Nikolas witnesses both copies of the contract.

“Get your things, we leave in twenty minutes,” I tell her. I just want to get out of here and contact Clyde.

“I only need ten,” Nadia quips, and the sudden shift in her tone and confidence makes me realize she had manipulated this entire meeting, and we were looking at the puppet master pulling Agafon’s strings.

8

SABRINA

Five days.

That’s how long I’ve been a prisoner of the RMSAD.

And in those five days, I’ve been moved three times—three different facilities, three different levels of sterile hell. But it’s this one, the third one, that’s making the hair on the back of my neck stand up.

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