Page 68 of Reverie
“Hunter and Ella are my children, and I love them.” She straightens as she speaks, then takes a deep breath. “And so is Misha. But I don’t love any one of them more than the other.”
Taking them in, they’re clearly very different-looking people. Amelia looks like her bones break easily. Misha looks like hebreaks bones by hand. But as I look at them more closely, I see the similarities. The angle of their eyes, which are only a few shades off from being identical, is the biggest clue—but Misha’s irises are so close to Hunter and Ella’s.
“How did you end up here?” I ask them both. Misha pulls a phone from his pocket and frowns, cutting us out.
I’m very unsure if I like Misha Hroshko.
“I’ll give you the short version,” Amelia begins, taking a step closer to me when Misha becomes engrossed in his device. “When I was nine, I was sold to a man named Dimitri Hroshko. When I was fifteen, I was sent to live with him as his bride.”
I stare at her for nearly a minute, so when a fly buzzes past my ear, it prompts me to snap my mouth shut.
“I beg your pardon?” I squeak.
“You heard me correctly,” she says. She rubs her thighs, and I take notice of her outfit. This time, it’s a light linen rather than the uniform black I’ve become accustomed to seeing her in.
My jaw drops again. “Wow, Amelia….”
She waves off my empathy. “Many things happened in my life, one of them being that I birthed Misha when I was sixteen. But then I met Benjamin Brigham, and he saved me from a terrible situation. I thought he was saving both of us.” She straightens. “I didn’t know at the time that I was jumping into Hell with him.”
I bring my hand to my throat, and the blood from my carotid pulses beneath my fingertips.
“Okay,” I say. “I still have so many questions.”
Amelia blinks at me patiently, but it’s Misha who speaks.
“We need to eradicate The Legion. I agree with Hunter that Morris Winthrope is a key figure to get rid of, but we need to get rid of himandthose who would follow in his footsteps.”
The words make sense, but I still stare at him hard. “Mmkay, go on.”
“That said, Winthrope has his sights set on Ella, and if there’s one thing I know about the man, it’s that he doesn’t sleep on his threats. But with The Architect still around, it will be just a matter of time before someone else takes Winthrope’s place. We need to figure out who The Architect is and break The Legion apart from the top down,” he continues.
A headache blooms behind my brow bone.
“All these years, and you don’t know everything about your enemy?”
Amelia lifts her arms at her side, her posture saying,What can you do?
“Thanks to Hunter, we’re sitting ducks waiting for Winthrope to strike again. But be clear, he will not stop until Ella is in his possession.” This again comes from Misha.
I battle back the urge to curse him out at the shade he throws toward Hunter. “Why does Winthrope want Ella so badly?”
The question should be simple to answer, but Misha and Amelia share a strange look instead.
“Um!” I say, raising my voice and breaking the moment between the two of them. A bird flaps away from a nearby tree. “Anyone want to tell me what the fuck is going on here?”
My gaze drills into both of them, and I don’t back down when they look uncomfortably at me.
Misha mutters something under his breath, probably in Ukrainian, and turns to close the French doors, sealing us in the outdoor sanctuary.
“Winter, I believe we can trust you. Is this assumption correct?” Misha asks when he turns back to me. His voice is low, serious. That general sense of subtext that usually laces his speech is absent. He’s asking me a direct question.
One that requires an answer.
“Yes, I can be trusted,” I say.
“Misha, are you sure?” Amelia says in the same low tone Misha uses.
“It’s going to come out sooner or later, and she’ll be able to manage him when he blows up.”