Page 37 of Twisted Fate

“Not in your skill set?” I tease lightly, and he chuckles.

“Not even a little.” He rubs a hand over his mouth, turning back toward me. “About last night, Sophia?—”

“We don’t have to talk about it,” I say quickly. “It happened. I told you, I didn’t bring you out here for?—”

“I think we do,” he replies firmly. “I recognize that I might have given you…mixed signals. That wasn’t my intention. I standby the decision I made, but I don’t mean to confuse you. I understand this is… difficult, for you.”

I press my lips together. His walls are as up and sturdy as ever, and it doesn’t give me much hope that they’ll break down over the course of tonight. But they don’t have to. I’ll be sleeping next to him, finally. I just have to manage to get my weapon and kill him before he wakes up. It won’t be easy—as well-trained as he is, he’ll be attuned to sound, even in his sleep. But I’m well-trained too. And tonight will be the best chance I get.

“It won’t happen again,” Konstantin adds firmly. “Just so we’re clear.”

“Crystal,” I murmur, letting my disappointment shine through in my tone. It makes sense, as his wife, that I’d be disappointed. I don’t need to lie about that, at least.

The sun begins to set, painting the sky in brilliant oranges and pinks. Our guide returns with dinner—a surprisingly elaborate meal of grilled meats and vegetables, with a bottle of dry red wine to accompany it. We eat in relative silence, the sounds of the wilderness filling the space between us. I can’t help but wonder what Konstantin thinks I’m thinking about—or if he even cares to wonder himself. If he thinks I’m mulling over the lack of romance tonight, the silence on this otherwise once-in-a-lifetime experience, when I’m really thinking about how I’m going to finish my mission tonight.

As we sit, finishing the bottle of wine under the cover of the acacia tree, I notice the sky is turning hazy. The bright canopy of stars I’d expected is dulled, and instead, it looks like a thick cloud cover is taking over.

A sudden wind whips up, almost out of nowhere, sending the nearly empty bottle of wine thudding to the ground. Konstantin starts in his chair, frowning as he reaches for it, and another wild gust nearly knocks him backwards.

“What the fuck?” he mutters, just as the radio crackles.

“You should get to the tent.” Our guide’s voice comes across the radio, tight and concerned. “A dust storm is rolling in, fast.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Konstantin grabs the radio. “We should head back then, shouldn’t we?”

“Too dangerous to drive in it. Take shelter in the tent, and I’ll do the same. It should pass by morning.”

“Fucking—” Konstantin drops the radio, just as another swirl of wind sends a cloud of dust past us. I cough as he jumps to his feet, grabbing for my hand. “We’re not coming out here again,” he grits through his teeth. “Come on, Sophia. Let’s get inside.”

A gust of wind knocks his chair backwards, sending it hurtling into the tree. I stare at the oncoming storm, as Konstantin yanks at my hand, urging me toward the tent.

For once, I don’t argue.

I just follow my husband inside.

10

KONSTANTIN

Ishould never have agreed to this.

That’s the main thought rattling through my head as I hurry toward the dubious safety of the tent with Sophia in tow, wondering how I allowed myself to be talked into camping in the African wilderness.

It should have been abundantly clear from the first trip that nothing about this is really safe. This trip even came with a warning label.Maybe I am too arrogant for my own good,I think grimly as I push the tent flap back, urging Sophia inside as I turn and secure it tightly behind us. The wind is buffeting the sides of the tent, and I can’t help but think we’re going to be snatched up, tossed around, and deposited somewhere in the park—God knows how far away.

Are these things as bad as a tornado? Or a hurricane?I have no idea. I glance at the radio, pressing the button to call the guide.

“How bad are these fucking storms?” I ask without preamble, and the radio crackles for a moment before I get a response.

“Stay inside and wait it out. You will be fine. Just don’t go outside.”

“Got it,” I mutter, glancing over at Sophia. She’s retreated to the edge of the bed, her features tight. She looks agitated, more so than usual, and I frown. Something feels off.Shefeels off—not that I know her so well that I know her every mood. But something just seems… wrong.

The battery-powered lantern that she switched on as soon as she got inside is illuminating her, just barely. I find another and turn it on too, giving us more light. I can’t help but think that, while she doesn’t seem to want to show it, her tense, unsettled demeanor is because she’s afraid—and understandably so. Anyone would be afraid in this situation.

Hell, I’m not feeling too great about it all myself.

“Here.” I dig a bottle of water out of the supply pack in the corner and hand it to her. “It’s going to be dry as hell in here, with the dust kicking up.”

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