Page 106 of The Fire Beneath the Frost

A white-hot pain bloomed in my skull, sudden and blinding.

Petyr’s scream echoed like it came from underwater.“No!”

I pitched forward, arms reaching uselessly toward the dock.I saw Petyr’s face, twisted, horrified, mouth open, and then I saw darkness.

Epilogue

Dimitri- 35 Years Later

“...and I woke up in Finland, in the infirmary of a naval base.To this day, I still don’t know exactly what happened.I think my father told that man to knock me out so I wouldn’t try to swim back to Petyr.”I leaned back on my stool, sighing.“Would’ve done it too, stupid bastard that I was.”

Nova blinked slowly, her false lashes like the wings of some overly glamorous bird.

“Damn,” I added.“This is the first time I’ve told the complete story to anyone.You have a strange effect on me, Nova.”

“Honey,” she said, tossing her platinum curls, “I have that effect on all men.But that…” she tapped a glittery nail against her glass, “that has to be the most romantic story I’ve ever heard.A Cold War Romeo and his not-so-distant Juliet.”

I grunted.“Romeo didn’t have to survive a Soviet blanket factory.”

She cackled, delighted, and took a dainty sip from her drink.The Stonewall was humming around us, louder than usual.It was Saturday night, and the regulars were out in force.Old queens, young hopefuls, twinks in crop tops, a leather daddy playing pool in the corner.The speakers pumped out some mid-2000s remix, and everything smelled like perfume, sweat, and faintly of hot glue.

Then a man in his thirties sat down next to us at the bar.

Nova turned to him, smiling like the cat that found the diamond collar.“Well, hello there, stranger,” she purred, then glanced at me with a wink.“Looks like your luck’s turning around, Dimi.”

The man turned slowly, as if drawn by the sound of the name.He looked at me, really looked.His eyes were green, startlingly green, and he wore an expression like he’d seen me in a photograph once.Or a dream.His mouth parted slightly.

Who the hell is this guy staring at me?I’m an old man, for Christ’s sake, way too old for him.

He hesitated, then said carefully, “Is your name Dimitri Morozov?”

I narrowed my eyes, all the warmth draining out of me.My fists clenched on the bar.“Who’s asking?”

Nova waved a hand, smoothing the tension.“You’ll have to forgive my friend here,” she said to the man.“He’s not used to handsome men approaching him sober.”She turned back to me, her smile gentler now.“He looks nice to me, Dimi.He’s got the same accent as you.Russian?”

The man straightened, his brows tightening.“Ukrainian.”

“Mm,” Nova hummed.“Touchy.Well, maybe this handsome young stud wants to buy you a drink?”She gave the man a theatrical wink, and to my surprise, he actually blushed.

I exhaled sharply through my nose.“Yes.My name is Dimitri Morozov.What of it?”

His entire face lit up.He stood so fast he nearly knocked over my drink.

“Please don’t go anywhere,” he said.“Just wait.Please.”And then he bolted toward the back of the bar, vanishing into the crowd.

I turned to Nova, eyebrows raised.

“What the hell is this about?”

She kissed my cheek, careful not to smudge her lipstick.“Showtime, darling.Me and the girls have to make magic.”

I wiped my cheek with my sleeve and grumbled something half-hearted at her as she disappeared into the dressing room hallway, trailing glitter like a comet tail.

The bartender slid a fresh shot of vodka in front of me without a word.I gave him a nod.He’d seen weirder.Probably thought I was being cruised by some overeager guy with daddy issues.

I lifted the glass halfway, letting the sharp bite of it rise up my nose.

Then I heard it.

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