Page 31

Alexei

T he burst pipe was…well, it was what it was.

The incident had apparently occurred in the attic, and water had flooded through a crack in the ceiling to Alexei’s bedroom, ruining his bedding and a good portion of his clothes.

None of that bothered Alexei. What he did check—more frantic than he would have thought—was the little cabinet in his bedside table, which was already warped on the outside but blessedly dry on the inside.

He dug out the contents with care. It wasn’t much, just a few photos of his mother, of his brothers, even one of his father he hadn’t had the guts to burn yet.

It’s hard to hate the people who raised you.

It wasn’t exactly true. Maybe for Jay, who was good and kind and pure, all the things Alexei really wasn’t (no matter how often Jay may call him the nicest human).

But for Alexei, the struggle was keeping that hatred pure .

The love kept creeping in against his will, built out of tiny, inconsequential moments.

The time his father had taken him—only him, not Ivan or Sascha— to a baseball game (Alexei had later found out his father was there for business more than anything else, disappearing for a good hour and leaving Alexei alone with his hot dog).

Seeing his father dancing with his mother in the kitchen (Alexei had always wondered how he had wooed her, in the beginning.

By pretending to have a heart? How had she possibly been fooled?).

The strange, almost proud look in his father’s eyes every time Alexei grew another inch (and wasn’t that the kicker: the only part of Alexei his father approved of was the thing over which he had no control).

As if summoned by his thoughts, by his proximity to the photos, a familiar number lit up Alexei’s phone. Alexei debated leaving it. He should have switched out phones days ago. Should have changed it out the second after he’d hung up the last time, in point of fact.

Still, he pressed the little green button. “Sascha.”

“You haven’t changed your number yet. That’s quite sloppy of you, Alyosha.”

That cold, monotone recital definitely wasn’t Sascha’s voice.

“Vanya,” Alexei greeted, using the diminutive of his brother’s name in turn—just to be an asshole—while simultaneously cursing himself for picking up the phone.

“You really pissed me off, Alexei, you know that? That was an important deal you fucked up.”

Alexei stared at the picture in his hand, the one of the three of them, all standing careful inches apart, Sascha the only one smiling. “That’s good. I meant to.”

A long silence. Alexei was almost positive Ivan was picturing the many ways he’d like to kill him.

Alexei got bored of the quiet after about ten seconds. “Are you coming for me, then?”

“I don’t know where you are, I’m afraid. Stay on this call long enough and I might be able to find out.”

The pointed warning—so out of character for Ivan—could mean one of two things: either Ivan already knew where Alexei was and thus didn’t give a fuck if Alexei hung up too soon, or he wasn’t coming for Alexei at all. He was actually letting him go.

How stupid would Alexei have to be to believe it to be the latter? And yet he really hoped it was, that they could just…be free of each other. “I didn’t figure you to be so sentimental, Vanya.”

“Maybe you’re just not worth my time.”

“Maybe not. Always was second best.”

“Idiot. Sascha’s second best. I don’t know what you are.” When Alexei didn’t rise to the bait, Ivan paused for only a moment before continuing on. “Aren’t you going to miss the money, Alyosha? You haven’t exactly stashed much away. You haven’t been withdrawing from your accounts either.”

Alexei had already assumed Ivan was monitoring his bank activity, so that little dig wasn’t any sort of surprise.

Looking at the pictures in his hand, Alexei realized he needed one of Jay.

One where Jay didn’t look so horribly stiff and uncomfortable, dressed in a suit Alexei just knew he must have hated.

“Would you believe me if I said I’m hooking up with a billionaire? ”

“No, I really wouldn’t. Too high-profile for you, if nothing else.”

“This one’s…underground.”

Another pause, then dark, taunting laughter from Ivan’s side of the line. “Oh, Alyosha. Are you telling me you went to all the trouble of burning your bridges, leaving your family in the soot and the wreckage, only to plunge yourself into new criminal activity? That’s adorable.”

Ivan wasn’t exactly wrong. Alexei thought about what would happen if Jay couldn’t stay in Hyde Park after all.

If he asked Alexei to go back to the den with him (Alexei could only hope Jay would ask him—he was too big to stow away in one of Jay’s suitcases), one with cruel vampires, strange power plays, and blood money soaking through its roots.

And yet Alexei would go, no question. In whatever capacity Jay would have him.

If Jay asked to be his master, the way Vee had been to Jay, Alexei would serve him gladly. Grateful for the chance to stay close.

The irony didn’t escape Alexei; it was the kind of devotion his brother had always wanted from him and Alexei had never been willing to give.

He sighed, tucking the photos into his back pocket. “Just know, if you are tracing this and you send someone after me, they won’t survive the encounter.”

“Like I said, adorable.” It was clear Ivan didn’t believe Alexei’s threat.

Fine by Alexei. Ivan would learn soon enough, if he decided to test it.

In the meantime, Alexei wanted out of this conversation.

He would keep the photos, but his flesh-and-blood brother was staying behind him. “Take care of Sascha for me, Vanya.”

There was only silence in response. Alexei hung up. He’d probably stayed on the phone for too long after all, but it was hard to care. He and Jay had bigger, stronger, immortal fish to fry.

Alexei gathered up what meager belongings he cared to—mostly a few articles of clothing—and placed them in a duffel, sending a text to Jay.

You’ve got a stray coming your way, kitten.

He opened the door, feeling surprisingly light for all the insanity of the past twenty-four hours.

That was until he saw the bigger fish in question standing at his doorstep, wearing another tweed fucking suit, smirking at the shock on Alexei’s face.

Decades of experience remaining calm in potentially life-threatening situations had Alexei’s voice staying even as he greeted his unwelcome guest. “Wolfgang. What a surprise.”

“Is it?” The way Wolfe cocked his head with the question reminded Alexei so much of Jay, and the reminder in that moment—a moment where odds were quite high Alexei wouldn’t survive—physically hurt, like a fist slamming into his sternum.

“You see,” Wolfe drawled. “As far as I can tell, you’re the only thing standing between myself and what I want.

It would be perfectly reasonable for me to snap your neck right now. ”

Alexei let out a slow breath. “I suppose it would be.”

It had been a long, long time since Alexei had been afraid to die—possibly since he was too young to remember—a character trait his father had worked so hard to instill in him.

And Alexei had to hand it to the bastard: that lack of fear was how he’d survived so long in the toxic environment in which he’d been raised, how he’d been able to do something as fundamentally stupid as cost Ivan a massive amount of money and flee into the night.

Alexei hadn’t cared enough about his life to weigh the consequences with any seriousness, hadn’t honestly cared much whether he’d succeed or get caught.

Only instinct—that deep, wretched animal part of his brain that wanted to survive at all costs—had led to him trying as hard as he had to lie low.

But he cared now. And with that caring came fear, more overwhelming than he remembered it to be.

Alexei’s next breath was stuttered, the fear tightening his throat, but his voice somehow still came out even enough.

“Is that what you’re going to do?” he asked when Wolfe said nothing more. “Snap my neck?”

“I’ve been quite seriously considering it,” Wolfe mused, letting out a heavy sigh. “But I fear it would make our Johann even more difficult to handle in the end. The loss of a mate can make a vampire so…unpredictable. Too hard to control the outcome.”

“The loss of—excuse me?” Oh fuck. There was that fist to the sternum again. Because Alexei could have sworn Wolfe was implying…

What was he implying?

Wolfe’s lips twisted into a half smile. “Tell me you’re not that stupid,” he said, false pity lacing his tone.

Which was maybe fair. Because apparently Alexei was that stupid. Or maybe just blind? Or possibly simply confused.

Was Wolfe really saying Alexei was Jay’s mate?

And really, if he was Jay’s mate, why the fuck hadn’t Jay said anything? For someone so wide open with all his emotions—Alexei had once overheard Jay telling someone’s dog that he was feeling a little sad that morning—Jay had been holding a lot of cards awfully close to his chest.

“If I’d known sending Johann to Hyde Park would have such consequences, I never would have allowed it.” Wolfe tutted. “I wonder though. If I allowed you to accompany us back, would you interfere?”

Alexei did his best to keep up with the turn in the conversation, despite the way his head was spinning with the fucking bomb Wolfe had so casually dropped. “You mean with the marriage part?”

Wolfe tipped his chin as if to say, Obviously the marriage, you fucking moron .