Forty-Three
Camille
As I wrappeda scarf around my hair, I watched as Bagpipes rounded the block and pulled onto the street that housed the Russian Orthodox Church Inessa used.
It was new to me.
Instead of the place where Mama had always gone, one that was deep in Russian territory, we were on the border of Irish and Russian territory instead.
It didn’t take a genius to wonder why that was.
If Eoghan was the control freak Brennan painted him as, her being this close to Russian territory was a massive concession in and of itself.
“Text me when the service is over. I’ll be in the vicinity.”
It was one of the few times I’d let Bagpipes drive, but then, that was because we had a convoy of guards with us.
“Okay. Will do.”
“Good. Don’t go out into the open until I text you to tell you I’m waiting.”
“I don’t see what the problem is,” Inessa grumbled, her blonde hair tucked into a headscarf as well. “I’ve been coming here for ages and it’s in our territory. I switched when Eoghan asked me to.”
Bagpipes and I shared a glance in the mirror. “Did she really just ask such a dumb question?”
I winced. “I think she might have forgotten about the Pakhan’s death.”
Victoria shoved Inessa in the side. “How could you forget about Papa?”
Inessa pulled a face. “Well, he’s just not that memorable. Anyway, who’s going to do anything in a church?”
“You weren’t around for Finn and Aoife’s wedding or its aftermath,” Bagpipes said wryly, “but I’m sure you’ve heard a lot about it. The sanctity of church doesn’t exactly mean much nowadays. Anyway, you’ll have guards going in with you, but Forrest and I will be watching the perimeter. We’re more concerned about external forces.”
I nodded, just inwardly sighed because I didn’t want to come here, period. It seemed unnecessary, but who was I to question Inessa’s need to reconnect with her faith? That she wanted to include me was a gift I didn’t intend on besmirching. Even if I thought she was nuts.
Hell, we all did crazy things from time to time, and going to church wasn’t usually classified as a way of letting one’s hair down.
I thought I’d have preferred for her to request we visit a sex shop together, or to go to a strip club, but nope, my sister had to be boring.
As he pulled up outside the church that was foreign to me, I climbed out and smiled down at Victoria when she tucked her arm into mine.
“I’m surprised you’re here,” she said on a whisper, peering out of a Hermès scarf that was not in her usual shade of dull, but a hot pink that made her look more her age than the Jackie O get-up she was wearing.
“Why? Because I’m a heathen?” I whispered back.
She giggled. “No, because you think this is all mumbo-jumbo like me.”
I pulled a face. “Don’t let Innie hear you say that.”
Her sniff had me laughing. “I can have my own opinions.”
“You can, but you shouldn’t diss her faith. We all have our crutches. This is hers.”
Victoria hummed as she stared up at the looming building. The red brick facade made the green copper domes stand out even more. Whenever I went to an Orthodox church in the States, I always felt like I could be in Moscow.
Not that I missed the city. I’d never really liked it there, even if I’d always appreciated Father’s house which was tucked away in the Rublyovka suburb.
“I guess we do. Mine’s studying.”