A slight laugh came from Liberty. “I’m not that bad.”
The girls shared a look before Isobel grinned. “How about I stop at the store when I’m out and grab you more baking supplies. I’m sure you’ll deplete the ones you have here when you get to overthinking the fact you kissed someone who lives across the street from us and have to see him every day until the demon scares him away.”
Liberty thumped her head against the door, making Daisy laugh.
Chapter Thirteen
Pavel sat at his desk, scrolling through the surveillance photos on the phone. A blonde bombshell leaned against the edge of his desk, watching quietly as he looked through the photos. His thumb hovered over the male figure depicted in them. His mission was under way.
Break Rurik Romanov’s will to live and bring him back into the fold in Russia.
Victory was nearly at hand. Pavel could almost taste it. Soon, the bear-shifter would regret ever having turned his back on his countrymen and the cause. He’d beg for the chance to go back in time and do it all over again. For so many years Rurik had been one of them—one of the elite, hand-selected soldiers from their country. Like Pavel, Rurik had started in the Tsarist secret police. Unlike Rurik, Pavel had seen being selected as an honor and part of his duty to serve.
Serving had come with perks and respect that had not been part of Pavel’s life prior to selection. He knew he’d only been chosen because of what he was—a polar-bear-shifter. And he understood that back then, he wasn’t the soldier he was now. That he’d been lucky the people in charge had seen past his faults to the asset he would grow to be.
It would have been all too easy for them to see him as nothing more than a scientist, as that was what he’d been when they’d discovered his truth—that he’d been born more than human. His deep love of science that had never left him, giving him and Rurik yet another thread in common beyond being called upon to serve in the secret police.
He’d seen Rurik as a friend. As a brother of sorts.
Now Rurik thought himself above the fold—beyond the horrors and atrocities he himself had helped commit while following orders. Did his new comrades know the truth of it? Did they understand what their beloved Rurik had done in the name of his country?
He highly doubted as much.
They would soon enough.
They’d see their friend broken beyond repair. They’d see he was no do-gooder. No saint. His hands were as bloody as Pavel’s, if not more so.
The last time he and Rurik Romanov had spoken had been shortly after the now-famed nuclear reactor meltdown in the Ukraine. Back then, Rurik had decided to share his thoughts on Pavel’s mishandling of information during the months leading up to the disaster. Rurik had gone so far as to point fingers, blaming Pavel for the outcome because he’d been a driving force behind the power plant.
Rurik had abandoned the cause, forgotten who it was he served—Mother Russia. He’d gone soft and then had the nerve to take up arms for the other side.
Bastard.
When Rurik had done his version of defecting, it had felt like a slap in the face. When he’d tried to push Pavel to join him, it had just been too much. Every bit of jealousy that Pavel had been harboring over Rurik had bubbled up and out of him. It had left him challenging Rurik openly in front of their peers.
I should have won.
They’d gone through so much together, each being a shifter and a scientist to start with. At some point Rurik had moved over fully to the military side of things in Russia before outright leaving for PSI. He’d not been subject to the heavy push for scientific advancements like Pavel had. He’d not been sent to a reeducation Gulag, which was really nothing more than a sanctioned torture facility.
No.
Rurik had been spared that humiliation. He’d always managed to do just enough to keep himself in good standing with those in control, all while being able to walk away with a clean break.
Rurik’s family connection had played a large part in him being spared some of the worst treatments. He came from a literal dynasty. His family tree could be traced back generations to some of the most powerful people in Russian history.
The bastard had felt he’d had the right to open his mouth and condemn Pavel for Chernobyl, as if Pavel alone could have stopped the tragic chain of events from occurring.
He’d not even been present the day everything went to hell. Pavel had not been onsite, in Pripyat, for the testing at the atomic energy station that ultimately resulted in the tragedy.
Pavel had been in Moscow, dealing with another issue. When the news of what had happened reached him, he’d been as devastated as everyone else. After all, he’d lost so much research that he’d never again be able to get back because of human error.
His lip curled in disgust. “Damn fucking humans.”
The blonde woman snorted, nodding in agreement.
Everything would be better if they weren’t around. All they did was complicate things. And Mr. Perfect, also known as Rurik, had sided with them in the end. He’d taken up arms against his own kind to protect them.
“You’re scheming again, aren’t you?” asked the woman.
Pavel grinned.
Soon enough, Rurik would regret ever having questioned Pavel’s beliefs, loyalties, and actions. He’d rue the day he’d openly stood against Pavel.
When Pavel had challenged Rurik, forcing the man’s hand and making him fight back, Pavel had thought he’d come out the victor. Rurik had been raised with a silver spoon in his mouth. Rurik was a Kamchatka brown bear. While large, they weren’t the size of a polar bear. They didn’t have the same notorious disposition as the polar bears
