But as soon as I'm around Demyan, the mystical feel of the time I've spent alone with Olena evaporates. In silence, he hands me a knife, a gun, and a phone. Stark reminders of who I am and what my purpose is.
He looks with surprise at the dog that follows us to his car.
"A guest? You have a dog? Really, Maks?"
"Yeah," I tell him. "He's a good watch dog."
"Larissa will be pleased," Demyan says. I wonder if he's dealt with Larissa. Can she be trusted?
"You look like you've been to hell and back," he mutters. "Honest to God, you look like shit, brother. You need to see Rothsky?"
I've been to hell alright. Back? We will see about that.
"Yeah," I tell him. "I want him looking Olena over, making sure she isn't injured."
"Tell me everything," Demyan says.
"Who's watching us?"
None in the brotherhood travel without some sort of protection. We've got taps on our phones and cars, so we can constantly be sure any danger that threatens one of us can be dealt with by a man at our back.
"No one," Demyan says. "I took a clean car and burner phone like you asked."
A clean car has no taps, a burner phone has no connections to anyone else.
"Now tell me what the fuck is going on."
I can almost feel Olena tense in the back. She doesn't trust Demyan, but I do.
Hell, though. I trusted all of the men in my brotherhood.
I have no choice but to tell Demyan the truth. I refuse to believe he's culpable in any of this.
"Last night, someone burned down my cabin. It was intentional. Arson. They used enough fuel to burn down a fucking stadium. We're lucky we got out alive."
"How did you?"
"Small enough cabin, we ran."
"And did someone follow you?"
"They did. I didn't see who it was, but Olena did. This is where you need to pay attention and be sure no one else knows about this conversation."
Demyan gives me a sharp look. He doesn't like when I tell him what to do, but hell, I'll fucking kill him if this gets back to the brothers.
"You were the only one who knew where I was, Demyan. How did anyone else find us?"
"Jesus, Maksym. Of course. I would never tell anyone."
"I know you wouldn't," I say. "But think. Is there any way anyone else in our brotherhood would possibly know where I was?"
He scowls as we get onto the highway and I look in the rearview mirror.
"You don't think it's someone in our brotherhood who did this?"
"Is there any way her father's men would know?"
He shakes his head and looks in the rearview mirror at her. "Was there any way she could have contacted them?"
Olena frowns when I look at her. "I did not!"
Demyan gives me a questioning look. I shake my head. "She had no access to anything. No computer, no phone." I pause. "And I trust her."
Demyan raises a brow at me but doesn't say anything.
"How could you think it was one of our men?"
"Olena saw the tattoo."
Demyan continues to drive with his eyes on the road ahead of us, not meeting my gaze, but his voice is as hard as granite when he speaks to me. "And you trust Yuri's daughter... the woman you've captured and punished... more so than your own brotherhood?"
He doesn't hold condemnation in his tone but incredulity. He also doesn't know what I do. He hasn't seen what I have.
I don't respond at first, turning over my options. "You don't know what I do, brother."
His jaw clenches, his blue eyes are cold as ice. "Then why don't you tell me."
"Someone came for us. I know it. There is no possible way for Olena to have set fire to the cabin. And the dog also suspected someone was following us, as he gave chase and barked even when I couldn't see anyone."
Demyan's only response is flicking on his turn signal to indicate we're exiting the highway.
"A dog. And a captive," he says. "I find it unfathomable that one of our own tried to attack you."
"Not only one of our own, but I suspect Vladak."
Demyan sighs, cruising to a stop at a light. "That's a heavy accusation, Maksym. Betrayal at this level means death. I will not take the life of one of our men unless I know without question they betrayed us."
It means more than death. Harsh, brutal punishment awaits anyone who betrays the Bratva. It hasn't happened since before Dimitri, but I remember the stories. The tattoos of the Bratva are erased by fire, torches held to skin to melt flesh and remove the signs of membership. Tongues are cut out to silence traitorous words, and eyes taken to prevent seeing anything else. Symbolic, painful, torturous death.
"I know it," I tell him. "And I make no accusation. Right now, I'm asking questions."