Page 46 of Thorns of Death

Illias’s expression was somber. Despite the fact that Maxim and Illias drifted apart and had completely different personalities, they still had that connection. They were twins after all.

I slid my hand into my big brother’s. He wore a black suit, making him appear like a dark angel. Almost as if he were prepared to exact revenge. But that was a silly thought. Right?

My sixth sense warned me that it wasn’t.

“He’s in a better place,” I croaked, my voice breaking. “And we’ll never forget him.”

I’d barely eaten today, my stomach twisted in knots. It was the first death in our family that I lived through. It hit differently. So fucking hard that it had my soul trembling.

He squeezed my palm. “We won’t, baby sister.”

It was lonely and so damn heart-wrenching seeing Maxim off without anyone else. I was certain there were more people who loved him. The two of us couldn’t be the only ones.

The church was damp and cloaked in darkness. The priest had said his blessings, yet neither one of us could find the strength to move. To say our final goodbyes. For a long stretch, we remained silent as we huddled close together.

It was the priest who broke the silence.

“Mr. Konstantin, may I have a word?”

“Yes.” Illias pressed a kiss on my forehead. “Wait for me outside. I’ll meet you there.”

I nodded, watching him join the priest in the back of the church before they disappeared from my sight.

Staring at the fancy ebony casket, I meant to turn around and leave. It was time to say goodbye, to let Maxim find the peace he’d craved for so long. But instead, I took a step, then another, until my hand came to rest atop of the coffin.

Don’t do it, my mind warned.

It was too late. The top was lifted and my gasp echoed through the silence of the church.

Maxim’s face was beaten black and blue and no amount of makeup could hide the truth.

“Stray bullet,” I rasped numbly. “Fucking bullshit.” A bullet-sized hole had pierced cleanly though my big brother’s temple.

The end was always the start, wasn’t it? Maybe not for Maxim, but certainly for those around him.

The sound of a horn and a string of Russian curses pulled me away from the memory and returned my attention to my surroundings.

It took over three hours—past the glitter of the city and busy industrial areas, and down long, windy roads—for the taxi to arrive at the grand estate. The sun was setting behind the trees already, warning of a freezing night.

It was an expensive cab ride, but it beat calling my brother’s driver.

Unfortunately for me, the taxi driver had to park at the iron gates, a bit aways from the building. I knew none of Illias’s guards would let him pass through.

“Vosem tysyacha pyat’sot rubley.” Eight thousand five hundred rubles.

My eyes flickered to the dash, where a clear amount of only four thousand rubles flashed back at me. Yet another tiresome thing whenever I visited Russia: being treated as a tourist. Much like most of Eastern Europe, it was standard for Russians to set a price for locals and a completely different price for outsiders.

I paid the man, then reached for the handle. Stepping out of the car, I was just about to close the door when I said in fluent Russian, “If you hadn’t ripped me off, I would have called you for my ride back too.”

I slammed the door, holding my duffle bag in my other hand. Without a second thought, I pushed the iron gate that blocked the rest of the country from the estate and it squeaked, alerting the guards to my presence.

I waved to them casually. “Hey, I’m home for the holidays.”

It was a bullshit excuse. The holidays were another two months away. Not unless you counted Halloween, which was a week away. But the men—my brother’s guards—were used to me coming and going, so they just waved me through.

I walked up the long, winding driveway as the wind howled through trees. My boots creaked against the snow, leaving the footprints behind me, which I knew would disappear by the morning. It always fucking snowed in Russia.

I walked up the stairs that had once upon a time seen kings and queens, and pushed on the large mahogany door.