Chapter Twenty-Six
In minutes the other children start to file in followed by Igor. Some of them glance at us, but most of them keep their eyes firmly on the floor. No one says anything. A boy with brown hair and sad eyes comes to stand near my cot.
“You will sleep over there,” Igor says, and points to another empty cot.
Without a word of protest the boy moves to the other cot.
In minutes, everybody, including Pavel and me, have changed into our pajamas and climbed into our beds. The lights go off and the door closes. In the sad silence, Igor’s footsteps echo as he walks down the corridor.
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p; I turn to face Pavel.
His big bright eyes are gleaming in the faint moonlight coming in through the windows. I put my finger on my lips to indicate that he should remain silent. When I can hear that all the other children are sleeping soundly, I climb into bed with Pavel. I notice that he is sucking his thumb, something he has not done since he was a baby, but I say nothing. I cover him with both our blankets and stroke his hair until he falls asleep.
I am too cold and anxious to fall asleep, but it turns out to be a good thing, because it means I get time to take action when I see the roving flashlights through the slit underneath the door. Slipping out of Pavel’s hug, I quickly climb into my own bed, and stay very still. The door opens.
The flashlight comes toward our cots. Whoever they are, they seem to know exactly where we are. A flashlight shines onto my face. I shield my eyes and sit upright. I know there are more than one, but it is impossible to see their faces. My heart is pounding so fast I can hear it galloping like a horse.
“Get up and follow us,” a voice says.
The flashlight moves away from my face and shines on Pavel’s. He is fast asleep, his blond hair falling over his forehead.
“No. Not him. He’s a baby,” I whisper urgently, and jump out of bed.
The flashlight trains on my face again. I stare into it defiantly.
“Come now,” the voice says.
There are three of them. I follow them out of the chamber of sleeping children. We go down the stairs to one of the classrooms. Someone lights a storm lantern. In its light I start to make out their faces. They are all older than me. One of them is the sneering boy who passed us down the hallway.
“So your parents were plotting against the state?” he says. He has a strange accent.
“No, they weren’t. My parents are doctors,” I jab back angrily.
“Were,” one of the boys sniggers.
“They’re not dead.”
“They’re dead, otherwise you wouldn’t be here.”
I decide not to antagonize them. I fix my attention on the boy who passed me. It looks like he is their leader. “What do you want?”
“We wanted to warn you.”
“About what?”
He holds out a pair of scissors. It looks old. “Take this and cut your brother’s hair. Then give it back to us.”
I look at them suspiciously. “Why do you want me to do that?”
One of the boys laughs.
“Shut up,” the leader tells his friends harshly. Then he turns to me. “Your brother’s too pretty and there are men here who like that.”
The hair on my body stands. I reach out and take the scissors from him. My hands are shaking. “Thank you.”
“My name is Sergei Koshkina. This is my gang. We are called the nightwalkers. You can join us if you want.”
“What does your gang do?”
“We look out for each other. There are bullies here. The director uses them to keep the discipline. You have to watch out for them. They don’t bother us. They won’t bother you if you join us.”
“Why do you want me to join you?”
The boy smiles. “Because you came in ropes. Every one of us here did.”
I smile back. He is a kindred spirit. “My name is Nikolai Smirnov.”
“Meet back here tomorrow night.”
One of the boys offers me a biscuit. I take it and thank him. Clutching the scissors, I hurry back to the bed chamber. I shake Pavel awake. He rubs his eyes and makes a groaning sound. I clap my hand over his mouth until he opens his eyes and looks into mine.
I put my finger over my mouth and he nods.
I make him sit up and give him the biscuit. While he is eating it, I hack off as much of his hair as I can. To my horror, he doesn’t look bad. His eyes look even bigger and his little face looks angelic. I run my hands under my shoes and smear the dirt on his face.
“What are you doing?” he asks with such perfect innocence I become terrified all over again.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Star
In less than an hour we cover the most important parts of the main house.
“You can explore the rest at your own leisure,” Celine says, closing the door of the pool room. “Now let me take you to the breakfast room. Mr. Smirnov should already be there.”
The breakfast room is east facing. There are three sets of doors and they are all open. The view is amazing, but the only thing I see is Nikolai sitting at the table reading a newspaper. He is dressed in an oyster-gray suit, a light-gray shirt, and a white tie. He looks aloof and unreachable. I can’t equate this immaculately groomed man with either the sexually experienced one who took me on the coffee table or the furious beast who shattered my phone.
I take a deep breath and step into the room. He raises his stunningly silver eyes from the story he is reading, and lets them sweep down my body. He folds the newspaper and places it on the table.
With impressive timing, Gregorios comes in. Silently, he moves towards the chair next to Nikolai. He pulls it out and waits for me. I walk towards it and he seats me smoothly.
“Good morning,” Nikolai greets.
“Good morning,” I reply awkwardly. I put my phone on the table. “Thank you for my new phone.”
He nods.
“You didn’t need to get something so expensive.”
He frowns and seems annoyed. “Don’t be coy.”
My back becomes rigid. “I wasn’t being coy. There was absolutely no need to buy something that expensive. A replacement phone would have done the trick nicely. I don’t need expensive toys.”
A smile curves his lips. “Ah, but I want to spoil my little butterfly. Shower her with beautiful things.”
“Why?”
He shrugs. “It’s probably a control thing. I like knowing that everything you wear, eat and own has been provided by me.”
Gregorios takes a step forward. I have been so involved with Nikolai I actually forgot he is standing just behind me.
“What would you like for breakfast?” Nikolai asks.
“What’s on the menu?”
“Anything you desire?” His eyes gleam.
I find that I can’t hold his gaze without blushing. I avert my head in confusion. “Then I’ll have an English breakfast, please,” I tell the hovering Gregorios.
“Syrniki for me,” Nikolai says. “And bring me another coffee.”
As silently as he entered Gregorios leaves with our orders.
Nikolai looks at me with a considering expression. “With all the possibilities you ordered an English breakfast.”
“That’s right, and you ordered a Russian dish while in England.”
He chuckles. “Touché.”
For some weird reason I feel pleased that I made him laugh.
“So you’ve had your tour of the house. Did you like it?”
I nod. “It’s a beautiful house. You’re very lucky.”
His lips twist. “Luck? I made my own luck little butterfly.”
I look at him intrigued. “You made all this money in one lifetime?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“I was willing to do what other men weren’t.”
“What do you mean?”
His eyes flash. “Exactly what you are thinking.”
“Like when you took me from Nigel?”
“Exactly. Another man would have hesitated. He might have allowed his conscience to trouble him, or turned it into a question of morality. Me? I considered nothing. I wanted you and I plucked you right out of your husband’s careless hands.”
“Would nothing have stopped you?”
He looks deep into my eyes. “What do you think innocent little Star?”
I stare at him. I’ve never met a person who is so open about their immorality. “What about if you had to kill someone?”
He lifts one shoulder carelessly. “Everyone has to die at some time. So what if it is a day, a month, or … even twenty years earlier? In th
e scheme of earth’s history, billions of years, what does it matter?”
I frown. “You’ve killed a human being before?”
He smiles. A tiger’s smile. “If I had, and I’m not saying I have, I certainly wouldn’t be confessing the deed to you.”
Breakfast arrives. My dish seems ordinary compared to his.
“What are you eating? Are they pancakes?” I ask curiously as Gregorios leaves the room.
“These are Russian dumplings. They are made from cottage cheese, flour, eggs, and eaten with jam or sour cream. Want to try?”
I lick my bottom lip. He fed me yesterday and even the idea brings to the fore all kinds of things I don’t want to feel. “No. I’ll try it another day.”
“As you wish,” he says, and reaches for the cream,
“How old were you when you met Nigel?” he asks casually.
I shift in my seat. I don’t want to tell him. I pretend to chew the eggs for a bit longer. “We were both very young,” I say finally.
He smiles mockingly. “Nigel is a year older than me. He couldn’t possibly have been very young. How old were you?”
“Sixteen,” I say as casually as I can.
His eyes remain carefully veiled, but his eyebrows rise. “The pervert.”
“He’s not a pervert,” I defend hotly. “And I resent the accusation. This is the second time you alluded to it. As a matter of fact I was very mature for my age. I didn’t look young at all.”
“You look barely legal now.”
“I was an early developer,” I insist aggressively.
“Yeah? The first time he met you how were you dressed?”
I feel myself cringe. “None of your damn business.”
“I thought so.”
“What the hell do you mean by that?”
“Do you want to bet I know what you were wearing?”
“I could lie.”
“You’re not a liar.”
Unable to meet his knowing gaze I scowl down at my plate.
“I’ll bet the dress you’re wearing. If you win you keep your dress on. If you lose you lose the dress.”
“That’s a very one-sided bet,” I say.
He laughs darkly. “Those are the kinds of bets I like.”
“I don’t want to discuss my personal life with you anymore,” I say, cutting into my sausage.