“Hello?” I said again, not needing to fake the tense tone in my voice. “Are you still there?”
There was a buzz and a parade of fluorescent bulbs flickered on, illuminating the holding cage I was in as well as a long gray hallway beyond, accented with pea-green linoleum. Soviet aesthetic at its finest.
“Okay,” I said. “I’m no longer amused by this. Either show yourself or I’m leaving.”
“You can’t leave.”
The voice wasn’t disembodied, and without the distortion of the PA it was very, very familiar.
Grigorii Belikov stepped from the shadows at the far end of the hallway and paced toward me, his suit navy blue with a lighter pinstripe today, his smirk growing. He had a bandage over his nose, but I gained some small satisfaction from the purple bruise on his face.
“Oh,” I said. “Watch me.” I turned around and made for the door, which declined to yield under my weight. I gave it a kick, full power, and barely managed to dent it.
“This was once a lab that engineered biological weapons,” said Grigorii. “Those doors are meant to keep you in if there is an outbreak.” He extended his hand. “Tell me where my records are and I’ll let you go, Joanne.”
“Hex you,” I snarled, backing as far away from him as I could. “What are you even doing here?”
“You stole something of mine,” he said. “When that happens, I find the person who took it and get the item back. I’d prefer to do it without a fuss, Joanne.”
“You’re a slaver,” I said. “You don’t get to decide what you keep and what you don’t.”
Grigorii sighed and depressed the button to open the security gate. He came within arm’s reach of me and tapped his finger on his chin. “Do you remember what happened the last time we got this close, Joanne? Or is it Luna? Luna Wilder? That were, Kirov, was quite confused by the time I finished with him.”
I flinched. Grigorii patted me down and took away my gun. I let him. I hadn’t forgotten the punch he packed.
“Well? Which is it?”
“Luna,” I said. “I seem to remember last time we were close, I smashed your pretty face in, tied you up, and stole enough evidence to put you in a dark and unpleasant Russian prison for seven lifetimes.”
Grigorii chuckled. “Do you know who I’m named for, Luna?”
“I have a feeling you’re going to tell me.” Could I Path Grigorii’s energy, if I was ready? There was some magick I couldn’t absorb. Could I take the chance, knowing what he’d do to me if I didn’t overpower him?
Masha and Dmitri were depending on me to get out of this in one piece.
“Grigorii Rasputin,” he said. “The advisor to the Romanovs, whom they poisoned, shot, stabbed, beat, castrated and finally drowned. Some say that even with these ministrations, Rasputin did not die but instead used his power to rise again, stronger than before. And that is me as well, Luna. You may think you have drowned the last remainders of my spirit, but I will dog you for a lifetime, like a sentient shadow, until I get what I desire.”
“Spooky,” I said. I definitely couldn’t risk trying to Path his energy now, stuck in this lab as I was. I had to talk my way out of this. “That’s supposed to scare me into giving the laptop back?”
“One lives on hope,” Grigorii said in the same dry tone. His hand flashed out and he grabbed me by the hair, bending my head back and exposing my neck. “Something else to consider—if you don’t give it back, I’ll be forced to kill that brute you left back in the village. And the fat sow, too. Such a shame. But this is a dangerous part of the world, and tourists often run into unfortunate trouble.”
I swallowed the sudden dry lump in the back of my throat. “You make a good case.”
“And your decision?” Grigorii said. I unstrapped my bag and held the laptop.
“One condition.”
“You’re in no position to bargain, but name it. It might be mildly amusing.”
“You let me see Masha Sandovsky after I give this to you.”
Grigorii snorted, and it turned into a full-blown laugh. “But of course. That was my intention all along.”
Huh. Could have fooled me. “I asked after Sandovsky when the two of you … visited me,” Grigorii said. He snatched the laptop from my grip with surprising speed. “He’s been sniffing around my establishment for a few weeks, and it seems I did sell his daughter. Ironic. Most weres know to leave us be, but not him. Particularly dense, that one.” He gestured for me to walk ahead of him, and we wound through a maze of corridors, all equally featureless and gray.
“Why are you here?” I asked again. “This is an awfully long way from Kiev just to gloat at me.”
“I’m a businessman, Luna,” Grigorii said. “And when my business is challenged, I take steps to ensure it doesn’t happen again. I told you, Luna. I’m a troubleshooter.”
We descended a set of narrow stairs painted with bright red warnings, about falling or running, I imagined. There were doors along this corridor, doors with small round windows and heavy locks that the cop in me knew could only be one thing. “This is a jail,” I said.
“A containment facility,” Grigorii corrected me. “For test subjects. And now, for my business interest and the women who serve it.”
He looked down to the end of the cell row, where a figure sat at a switchboard. “Sixteen, please.”
The door buzzed, and swung open with a Dr. Caligari –style creak. I balked reflexively at the darkness inside. Grigorii put his hand on the small of my back, rubbing in circles. Caressing. “Easy, Luna. I won’t let anything bad befall you.”
I gave a loud growl. “That is really not a good
