good illegal bar needs one.”
After a few more moments, the heavy metal door swings open a few inches and a very suspicious man with a thick beard and long, dark hair peers out and glares at Kostya.
14
Kostya
L ooks like Viktor’s on the door tonight. We’re not great friends, but I’ve never punched him in the face, so at least he’ll let me in.
Before he does, he takes a good, long look at Hazel. So long I start to tense up, my fist tightening on my helmet in my hand.
“She with you?” he finally asks in Russian.
I just nod.
“What is she?” he asks, still looking at her.
Hazel’s looking at him, her gaze slowly becoming a glare.
“A human woman,” I say, pushing on the door just enough that he notices. “You’re familiar with the species?”
Viktor scowls, but he steps back and lets us in. I keep my hand on Hazel’s back.
The inside is a massive industrial space, filled with thirty-year-old machinery around the outer walls. The makeshift bar is in front of a massive chimney, concrete and metal, that stretches up to a high ceiling. Pipes and catwalks run across it, and under our feet, there’s sawdust on the concrete floor.
Hazel’s taking it all in quickly, her dark eyes narrowing as she looks around.
“Was this really a cannery?” she asks.
“Is that what they told you?” I ask.
Hazel just nods, her eyes up toward the ceiling.
“Not at all,” I say, and then I hear someone shout my name.
I turn, and Niko’s waving at me from a long, beat up metal table.
“That looks like your father’s aide Nikolai,” Hazel says, sounding confused.
“That’s because it is,” I say.
“Someone who works for your father is here?” she asks, sounding suspicious.
I chuckle and lead her over. Niko’s already half-drunk, grinning at me, his arm around his girlfriend Marina. He’s at the table with a few other friends, and they all wave as we walk over.
“You did bring the American girl,” Niko says in Russian. “I thought so.”
Hazel’s eyebrows go up at Amerikanskaya .
“This is Hazel,” I say to the table in English. I know they all speak it perfectly. Niko just wants to rag me about this.
Hazel takes a deep breath, then nods.
“Hello again, Nikolai,” she says.
Niko laughs.
“You can call me Niko when we’re not in the palace,” he says.
Hazel relaxes visibly.
“Thank God,” she says. “I think Svelorian introductions are gonna kill me one of these days.”
I go around the table and everyone introduces themselves: Marina, Niko’s girlfriend, Sergei and Dmitri, who were in the Guard with me, and Dmitri’s girlfriend Sofia.
We sit, putting the motorcycle helmets on the floor behind us. Two dark beers appear in front of us. Niko shouts a toast to pretty girls and dark nights or some nonsense, and we all drink.
“Did Kostya bring you around so we’d impress you with his war stories?” Sergei asks. He’s flushed, his curly brown hair sticking up in every direction.
Hazel laughs.
“ Is that why Kostya brought me?” she asks, leaning her chin on her hand and turning toward me, laughter in her eyes.
“If I wanted to impress you with war stories I’d tell them myself,” I say. “These assholes will only tell you about all the times I made everyone get out of bed and into defensive positions in the middle of the night because I heard a squirrel.”
“You know us too well,” says Dmitri.
“True,” I say, and everyone laughs.
I sneak another glance at Hazel. She looks a little confused, still, but she’s laughing along with the group.
“The palace is stuffy and formal,” I say, shrugging. “I thought you might want to escape for a while and go somewhere that you didn’t have to remember your manners.”
“Oh, come on ,” she says. “I’m not that bad.”
“She met the king and queen in a sweatshirt and spandex pants,” I tell the group.
Marina just puts her face in her hands, and Niko pats her back.
“I’d just gotten off a
After a few more moments, the heavy metal door swings open a few inches and a very suspicious man with a thick beard and long, dark hair peers out and glares at Kostya.
14
Kostya
L ooks like Viktor’s on the door tonight. We’re not great friends, but I’ve never punched him in the face, so at least he’ll let me in.
Before he does, he takes a good, long look at Hazel. So long I start to tense up, my fist tightening on my helmet in my hand.
“She with you?” he finally asks in Russian.
I just nod.
“What is she?” he asks, still looking at her.
Hazel’s looking at him, her gaze slowly becoming a glare.
“A human woman,” I say, pushing on the door just enough that he notices. “You’re familiar with the species?”
Viktor scowls, but he steps back and lets us in. I keep my hand on Hazel’s back.
The inside is a massive industrial space, filled with thirty-year-old machinery around the outer walls. The makeshift bar is in front of a massive chimney, concrete and metal, that stretches up to a high ceiling. Pipes and catwalks run across it, and under our feet, there’s sawdust on the concrete floor.
Hazel’s taking it all in quickly, her dark eyes narrowing as she looks around.
“Was this really a cannery?” she asks.
“Is that what they told you?” I ask.
Hazel just nods, her eyes up toward the ceiling.
“Not at all,” I say, and then I hear someone shout my name.
I turn, and Niko’s waving at me from a long, beat up metal table.
“That looks like your father’s aide Nikolai,” Hazel says, sounding confused.
“That’s because it is,” I say.
“Someone who works for your father is here?” she asks, sounding suspicious.
I chuckle and lead her over. Niko’s already half-drunk, grinning at me, his arm around his girlfriend Marina. He’s at the table with a few other friends, and they all wave as we walk over.
“You did bring the American girl,” Niko says in Russian. “I thought so.”
Hazel’s eyebrows go up at Amerikanskaya .
“This is Hazel,” I say to the table in English. I know they all speak it perfectly. Niko just wants to rag me about this.
Hazel takes a deep breath, then nods.
“Hello again, Nikolai,” she says.
Niko laughs.
“You can call me Niko when we’re not in the palace,” he says.
Hazel relaxes visibly.
“Thank God,” she says. “I think Svelorian introductions are gonna kill me one of these days.”
I go around the table and everyone introduces themselves: Marina, Niko’s girlfriend, Sergei and Dmitri, who were in the Guard with me, and Dmitri’s girlfriend Sofia.
We sit, putting the motorcycle helmets on the floor behind us. Two dark beers appear in front of us. Niko shouts a toast to pretty girls and dark nights or some nonsense, and we all drink.
“Did Kostya bring you around so we’d impress you with his war stories?” Sergei asks. He’s flushed, his curly brown hair sticking up in every direction.
Hazel laughs.
“ Is that why Kostya brought me?” she asks, leaning her chin on her hand and turning toward me, laughter in her eyes.
“If I wanted to impress you with war stories I’d tell them myself,” I say. “These assholes will only tell you about all the times I made everyone get out of bed and into defensive positions in the middle of the night because I heard a squirrel.”
“You know us too well,” says Dmitri.
“True,” I say, and everyone laughs.
I sneak another glance at Hazel. She looks a little confused, still, but she’s laughing along with the group.
“The palace is stuffy and formal,” I say, shrugging. “I thought you might want to escape for a while and go somewhere that you didn’t have to remember your manners.”
“Oh, come on ,” she says. “I’m not that bad.”
“She met the king and queen in a sweatshirt and spandex pants,” I tell the group.
Marina just puts her face in her hands, and Niko pats her back.
“I’d just gotten off a
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