Page 172 of The Harbinger

“Sacha.” I laid my hand on his arm as he glared at Ruslan. “People are watching,” I whispered.

He released him, then ran his hands down the wrinkles he’d caused. When his hand dropped, he looked at me, then to the people at the door, issuing a command that had them scrambling.

Ruslan switched to Russian, leaving me as the outlier in the conversation.

My stomach swirled as Ruslan adjusted his shirt, then squared his shoulders, his gaze planted on me.

“Now that Nikolai has returned, he will run the test. No more delays.”

“Test?” My hand slipped to my throat, and my arm clutched over my belly as my gaze shot between them. “What’s he talking about, Sacha?”

“You’ll find nothing.”

Ruslan’s smile was like a deathly chill that seeped into my bones, so different from Sacha’s disdainful smirk. It was as if a corpse had reached into my chest and encased my soul in a frigid embrace.

“We’ll see.”

He departed, my gaze following him out the door, but not before finding a pair of eyes peering around the corner.

Whatever had passed between the father and son had brought a pallor to Katya before she disappeared and left me in a state of horror-stricken dread.

Chapter 43

Mia

“Whatthehelljusthappened?”

“He thinks you are someone you aren’t.”

“Who? Because that’s not what I got from that conversation.” My stomach clenched, and my heart thudded in my chest. Did he have the answers I desperately needed? “Does he know my parents?”

“It’s not like that.” Stalking to the door, he slammed it closed and then guided me back to the chair where I had been sitting earlier. He settled me into it and then took a seat in the one his father had been occupying, his eyes flicking over the leather-bound book filled with words that were scarier than a horror novel.

“What’s it like, then? You promised me answers, and now I have a lot more questions.”

He sighed through his nose, sat back in his chair, and tipped his head over the back, staring at the ceiling. His long muscular arms lay draped across the arm rests, and the dark robes he wore molded over his seat.What the hell was he wearing?

“What do you want to know?”

“Let’s start with that.” I waved my hand up and down his frame.

His head tipped up, and he narrowed his gaze at me. “You think Ruslan has information on your family, and your first question is about my attire?”

“You’re stressed.” I shrugged. “I thought we could try something easy first.”

He smirked and shook his head. “They’re ceremonial robes.”

The silence bled through the air on bated breath. My knee bounced, and when I couldn’t take it anymore, I rolled my wrist, urging him to continue. “And?”

He sighed again. “Traditionally, our top members are given a burning funeral. We paint their bodies in blood and wrap them with sigils, then burn them on the pyre. But Ina chose a different kind.”

“So you chose to wear them anyway?”

“We are the elders.”

“You seem kind of young to be considered an elder.”

“It’s a title. That’s all.”