The Darkest Temptation (Made 3)

I set my bag on the floor and took a seat on a faded floral-print couch, while he took the armchair across from me. A crackling flame in the fireplace filled the room with much-needed warmth, and books and knickknacks littered every available shelf. The space was cluttered but comfortable in a lived-in way.

Vera placed two cups of coffee on the wooden table between us, watching me with big eyes, before she disappeared from the room like hellhounds were on her heels.

I stared at her retreat. “Is there a reason she’s terrified of me?”

He waved a hand. “She is superstitious.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You are Tatianna’s spitting image. We did not know she had a chil

d. Well, we knew, but we thought you passed away shortly after birth. Problem with the lungs, your papa told us.”

I always knew my mother had died young, but the only reason I knew her name was because the one time Papa ever got drunk, he told me I looked too much like his Tatianna. I often wondered if that was why, as I became older, he spent less and less time with me.

“My lungs are fine.”

“I can see that,” the man said with a chuckle and sipped his coffee. “What brings you to our neck of the woods?”

“I’m on a mission . . . of sorts.”

He hummed with disapproval. “Have you not heard the phrase, ‘Curiosity killed the cat?’ You are just like your mother. Some things are better left in the dark.”

I’d never heard so much about my mother in my entire life than I had in the last few minutes. Finally, I was getting some answers. And, apparently, more questions.

“Why would my papa tell you I died?”

He frowned. “Is it not obvious?”

No, it wasn’t obvious. Nothing about this was.

I opened my mouth to ask more—

“Now, enough about that. I thought your papa might have sent you, but I can see now, he has not.” He set his coffee cup down. “You must go. It could not be a worse time for you to come here alone.”

Why did everyone think I needed a babysitter? “I’ll be fine. I know how to take care of myself.”

“No one knows how to take care of themselves against D’yavol.”

The Devil?

“Up you go, now.” He stood with a wince and rubbed his knee. “I like living too much to harbor you.”

“I can’t leave yet,” I insisted, getting to my feet. “I’m not sure why you think I’m here illegally, but I promise, I have my papers.” I knew Russia was a little medieval, but, God, did they really execute people for such a small offense as harboring a harmless girl?

“Pah. I’m not talking about the government, girl, but D’yavol.”

I stared at him, realizing I might be speaking to a crazy person.

“I’m agnostic,” I said dumbly.

He shook his head and murmured something unintelligible.

My gaze found Vera in the doorway staring at me like I was a piece of furniture that had just moved itself.

They were both crazy.

She dropped the apron she was wringing in her hands and disappeared again. To find her sharpest meat cleaver probably.