“I don’t make decisions for you, Roksana. I protect you.”
The sound of boots on the pavement broke their staring contest. Tucker approached them, but he walked backwards, as if he couldn’t stand to take his eyes off the car where Mary sat. “I guess I’m off, folks.” He rubbed a hand over his hair. “Just going to bring this blind girl with the crazy-ass scream and drop her off at her fiancé’s lair. Typical weekend plans, right?”
“You’re not really going to drop her off,” Elias said. “Are you?”
“Nope. Fuck that noise. Can’t and won’t do it.” Tucker turned briefly and put his hand out for a shake. “It’s been great knowing you. Try not to kill each other.”
Roksana ignored Tucker’s outstretched hand and gave him a hard hug. “Where will you go?”
“I’m not sure yet.” He laughed without humor. “Is anywhere safe these days?”
“Not when you’ve kidnapped the key to an unholy alliance,” Elias said, shaking his friend’s hand. “Lay low and be safe. We’ll wait for your call.”
Tucker’s gaze took on a far-off quality. “Remember when I told you I saw home, that night at the poker game?”
“Yeah.”
He nodded at the car. “She was there.”
Roksana and Elias watched Tucker climb into the driver’s side of his car. A melodic greeting from Mary floated out into the night, followed by a gruff rejoinder from Tucker.
And then they were gone.
Standing side by side in the darkness, Elias and Roksana watched them go, the lack of sound creating a static buzz around them.
“I miss dancing in the street,” Roksana whispered, hazy visions of the Vegas strip glimmering in her head. “I miss believing the fate of the universe was someone else’s responsibility.”
Silence passed them like a river’s current. “I could tell you we don’t owe the universe anything. I could tell you we don’t have to go to Moscow. That we can run off and find a way to have that lightness together.” He put an arm around her shoulders and tucked her into his side, pressing his lips to her temple and she went like a child, seeking…something. Reassurance. Validation. She didn’t know. “But you’re not a woman who buys bullshit and I’m not a man who sells it. You need to be stronger than ever now, Roksana. You will be. Accept the fact that you are the maker of hard decisions. Someone else gets to be blissfully ignorant and you have to pick up their slack. That’s your life. That’s my life, too. Take a deep breath and go toward the next fight. I’ll be there with you.”
They were words only someone who knew her heart and recognized her soul could say.
They were hard and truthful and exactly what she needed.
They could only come from him. Because he was Elias.
“I love you,” she whispered, her fingers twisting in the front of his shirt, those three words ripping the lid off what felt like a lifetime of suppressed emotions, drowning her, leaving her literally and figuratively gasping for air. “I have loved you and I will love you.”
He opened his mouth to say something, to return the sentiment, but he couldn’t seem to get it out, choking on his first and second attempt. So instead he took her hand and placed it, palm down, over his thrashing heart—and it told her everything she needed to know.
Elias and Roksana took a cab to the airport where Elias had the Vamplane waiting in a private section of the airfield. Roksana was wired. Exhausted but unable to sleep once the plane took off. She paced the length of the private aircraft, weaving possible scenarios for the upcoming confrontation with Inessa, while Elias alternated between watching her with quiet concern and typing on the screen of his phone.
Finally, on lap number eighty thousand, Elias snagged her around the waist and settled her in his lap. “Look at me,” he ordered gruffly, tilting her chin up. “I’m going to compel you to sleep. You have to take advantage of this long flight and rest.”
She tried to squirm free of his hold. “Not a chance. I need to plan.”
“Roksana.” He threaded his fingers through her hair, bringing their foreheads together. “You need to sleep. Allow yourself to be human.”
The word human on his lips summoned a whole other host of concerns. Ones she’d had more and more frequently over the last twenty-four hours with all the talk of war and matehood and love. “Have you ever thought of silencing me, Elias?”
He averted his gaze, but not before she saw the blazing possession there. “I’m not proud of myself, but I have.”
She traced his lip with the pad of her thumb. “I love the truth from your mouth, no matter what it is.” For some reason, her statement caused his scar to whiten. “You don’t have to feel guilty for wanting me to be like you.”