Page 98

“We’re open to suggestions.”

“Take the fight to Ananke, Daciana, whoever the fuck she is.”

“Good idea! We’ll sneak into Italy, waltz straight into her heavily guarded fortress mansion and—” Ero pauses.

“And immediately put a bullet in our own heads,” I finish.

“Yeah, yeah. Mind control.” Dom flings his hands dismissively. “She’s really got both of you bamboozled.”

“Bamboozled?” I scoff.

“A nice way of saying you got your heads so far up hers and each other’s asses that you got brain damage for the lack of oxygen.”

Ero blinks a couple of times. “Wow. That was a Ciro-level burn.”

“And sographic.” My bottom lip pulls down in disgust.

“Onlyslightlyless nasty than my twin.”

“The two of you are only slightly less annoying than the Ciro–Ero combo.” Dom fidgets, scanning through a few booklets we snatched from the airport. Most are for tourists, bus schedules, and transit maps.

“Look, believe us or not, we’re not risking it. We need to lie low.” Mentally, I swipe through every safe house and bolt-hole I can think of. Most are compromised. Others might not exist anymore.

“We need to find some way of reversing what she did to us. Maybe time really does work, like it did with Artemis,” Ero offers.

“If she was telling the truth,” I interject.

“Right. If she was telling the truth. You have to admit, we’ve come a long way in just a few weeks.”

“If so, Ananke must have realized that you were getting farther afield. Might explain why she pulled out the rug.” Dom sighs. “Which means she considers you a threat. Me too. I say, we amplify that threat. Buy us some protection. Some muscle.”

“We don’t have enough money to buy a bike lock, let alone an army.”

“We have enough for a ferry ride.” Dom snaps his fingers suddenly, holding up a pamphlet. “Stockholm to Tallinn. Estonia. We follow the coast. Only a few hours to the Russian border.”

Ero’s face brightens slightly.

“The Bratva. I know for a fact Daciana’s had trouble getting anywhere with the Russians. They won’t negotiate. They don’t cave to threats or attacks. Might be the last holdout against Pantheon.”

“Assuming they don’t shoot us on sight or turn us away, what could we possibly offer them for asylum?” I protest, running out of patience.

“The Bratva are pragmatic. If they see what’s going on, they’ll welcome any intel we can offer on Ananke and Pantheon.”

“Or we’ll make handy bargaining chips.”

“At worst, it keeps us alive long enough to figure something else out.”

Dawn.

Fog rolls in off the Gulf of Finland.

Ero’s on autopilot, keeping to as many minor roads as we can until we pass Sillamäe, the last town of note along the coast. If it takes a little longer, it will keep us safer. Signs a few clicks back told us we’re close to the border.

We’ll follow the coast all the way to the Narva River. South to the town of the same name.

Then we have to figure out how to cross unnoticed.

Maybe we’ll get lucky and an outpost of Bratva will escort us to St. Petersburg.