Take the Key and Lock Her Up (Embassy Row #3)(38)

There are lots of different versions with minor changes—different words used here or there. But I have never in my life heard this verse.

I stop and look at Alexei.

“‘Hush, little princess, pretty babe. The sunlight shines where the truth is laid! Hush, little—’”

“Shut up!” Alexei’s shout fills the room, and Karina stops singing. Slowly, she turns to her son, almost like she’s just now realized that he’s here.

She stands up a little taller, smiles a little brighter. “You are very handsome,” she says. Then she turns to me, whispers, “Isn’t he handsome?”

I glance at her son. There’s no denying the truth. “Yes. He is.”

“Is he yours?” Karina asks, and I can’t help myself. I look at Alexei, not quite certain of the answer. I almost miss the tear that falls from the corner of her eye as she says, “I used to have a boy who was handsome.”

Is she thinking about Alexei? About Alexei’s father? There are so many things I want to know, but I feel like answers are precious and Karina will only grant a few.

I’m just getting ready to ask about Alexei when he says, “Do you know her?” and points to me.

The dreamy smile is back. Karina starts to curtsy. “The heir has risen. The heir has returned.”

But before she dips down again, Alexei grabs her arms.

He’s being too rough, and she’s too fragile. Her mind and her body. Alexei has never really known his own strength.

“Do you know her?” he demands. “Did you talk to her mother?”

“Alexei.” I reach for his hands, try to pull his fingers free of his mother’s arms.

“Do you know her?” he asks, and Karina smiles up at him, at me.

“Of course.” She stumbles back as he lets her go. “It’s so good to see you again, Caroline. I have missed you so.”

I didn’t realize that she could move so fast, that she might be so strong. But before I can really process what she’s said, she lunges toward me, pulls me into the world’s most awkward hug.

And somehow I know it’s the first touch of kindness that she’s felt in years. I let myself sink into the hug, trying not to think about how rare they are in a place like this.

“I missed you,” Karina whispers.

“I …” I pull back and glance at Alexei. “I missed you, too. You know, I was trying to remember—when was the last time I saw you?”

Gently, Karina pulls away, like a child trying to keep from having to admit she hasn’t cleaned their room. She goes to one of the grimy windows, looks out at the gray sky and barren land.

Softly, she sings, “‘Hush, little princess …’”

I don’t want to look at Alexei. I don’t want to take the chance that seeing this might break him, too.

“Karina, I need to talk to you about the last time I was here,” I say, but she doesn’t turn.

“‘Hush, little princess …’”

“Karina!” I say, louder, sharper. I need her to turn, to focus, to think. “Karina, do you—”

“That’s peculiar,” she says when she stops singing.

Her gaze is locked on the filthy window, but I’m pretty sure Karina’s looking into the past.

“Posmotri na menya!” Alexei blurts.

His mother turns. Her words are so fast and so frantic that I can’t hope to follow.

“What?” I ask. “What did she say?”

Alexei shakes his head. “She’s talking crazy.”

“What did she say?” I have to know.

Alexei looks defeated, and for the first time I realize that I wasn’t the only one who had come here looking for answers. He just hadn’t realized it himself.

He takes a slow, deep breath, almost like the words hurt. “She said they’re going to storm the gates and kill the heir. She thinks it’s two hundred years ago, Gracie. And she thinks you’re your mom. We should go. She can’t help us.”

Alexei’s already turning, starting for the door, when it opens.

Viktor’s standing there, an orderly right behind him.

“She just got here,” I say. I can’t let him take Karina away, not when all we’ve gotten so far are more questions. “You can’t make us leave yet.”

Karina is still at the window, singing, “‘Hush, little princess …’”

“We’re not leaving,” I say again.

“I quite agree,” Viktor says. “You’re not going anywhere.”

Maybe I’m just too stressed—too tired—but what happens next happens in a flash, and yet it also feels like slow motion.

The man behind Viktor is massive. He wears dingy gray scrubs, and when he pushes past Viktor, toward me, it’s almost like a tornado bearing down. But he never reaches me. Alexei blasts across the room, leaping and catching the massive orderly in midair, the two of them crashing to the floor in what feels like a blur of hits and kicks.

The man is strong. He’s huge. But Alexei has something to fight for. And I realize with a start that the something is me.

I watch him twist, launching himself over the bigger man, and in a flash Alexei has his arms around his neck and he’s squeezing.