Page 55 of Bad Bishop

Tierney paused once more and stared down at her palms. Every inch of them was covered in blisters and calluses. So rough was her skin that she could run a burning flame throughit and still not feel a thing. She looked up longingly toward the woods.

“Not worth it,” Tiernan said shortly, raising his axe and slicing another log in two.

Tierney was quiet.

All the other kids around them worked diligently. Olga weaved between them, inspecting their handiwork.

“What’s the point of staying alive if we aren’t living?” Tierney wondered aloud. “Look at us. They cut our tendons so we cannot run. Starve us so we cannot fight. I have never played a game. Never felt the sun on my skin. Never been loved by someone who isn’t you.”

“Our father loves us,” Tiernan reminded her fiercely. “Our brother, too.”

“Yes, well, they aren’t here, are they? For all we know, they forgot about us.”

A tear rolled down Tierney’s cheek. It froze before it could land on the ground.

Guilt gnawed at Tiernan’s gut. He hated seeing his sister unhappy. She was the only thing he had. The only thing he knew how to love.

“Thirty minutes till lunchtime,” Olga announced, briskly making her way up the stairs to the main cabin to oversee the meal preparation. Girls Tierney’s age prepared lunch—hot tea, black bread, a slab of butter, and if they were lucky, sardines. But Tierney was never allowed the luxury of kitchen duty. Igor said she needed to be a warrior, so one day he could send her and Tiernan to kill their father.

Tiernan knew they had thirty minutes before Olga would check on them again.

“Fine,” he bit out, already regretting it. “But we’ll make it quick.”

They ran, following Alex’s footprints in the snow.

They found him in no time, bullet cases splayed on a stump. They joined him. Alex elbowed Tiernan’s rib. “Hey, don’t worry. If we get caught, I’ll take the fall.”

He believed him.

Lyosha always shared his food, his milk, his clothes, and his warmth with him.

Time betrayed them in the same way it betrayed all kids caught up in a game. When they realized it, they ran so fast the snow seemed to melt under the ferocity of their terror.

Tiernan was the first to make it back to camp. He collided headfirst into Igor’s frame.

The pakhan was standing at the door to the dining hall, blocking the entrance.

The breath was caught in Tiernan’s throat.

Igor was holding his gun. He pointed at the twins with it. “You two. Come out back with me.”

“Father, no!” Alex threw himself on Igor.

The man shook him off like he was a rabid animal, huffing. “They broke the rules.”

“So did I.” Alex straightened his spine. “I asked them to come. It was my idea.”

Damn his stupid son, and damn his lack of animal instinct. The Callaghan twins were the enemy. If Alex couldn’t see that, he was never going to make a good pakhan. Luckily, Natalia had given him two more sons—Jeremie and Slava. Jeremie already lived here in camp. Slava would join his brothers shortly.

Jeremie and Slava were a good mix of their parents—cold, jaded, unfeeling. Alex was tainted by Luba’s DNA. Kind, caring, and abundantly generous.

“Alex, shut up,” Igor barked.

“If you kill them, you’ll have to kill me, too.”

“Fine. I will give them a chance to survive. We’ll play Russian roulette.” Igor smiled. “And you, Alex, will do the honor of shooting.”

Tiernan’s heart stuttered to a stop. He and Tierney exchanged looks. Igor motioned for the three of them to follow him back where they came from. Alex was silent and rigid. When they arrived at the stump in the woods, Igor handed his son the gun.