Siege of Shadows (Effigies #2)(57)

“Maybe it was the training regime back then that finally took its toll.”

“Shut up,” Vasily hissed, and his body gave a violent jerk. I couldn’t tell if it was a spasm or if he was fighting against his binds.

“In the end, Irina Volkov took her own life that day eleven years ago,” Brendan said, “leaving her seven-year-old son an orphan. It’s a shame.”

Vasily spat blood in his face. Brendan flinched from the impact, but he wouldn’t lose this war of wills. He wiped the dripping blood and saliva off his cheek.

“Is that why you fought so hard to get recruited into Fisk-Hoffman like your mother did?” He slipped his phone into his pocket. “Did it make you feel closer to her?”

“Brendan.”

Rhys had spoken up this time, a burst of concern that surprised even him. Vasily noticed. Silent words passed between them as they locked eyes.

It wasn’t long before defiance returned to Vasily’s voice. “Don’t worry, Aidan,” he said, the corners of his mouth twitching. “You think Brighton never mentioned my mommy in all these days he’s been fiddling with my flesh? Try a little harder, at least.”

But I knew I hadn’t imagined the waver in his voice.

“Vasily,” Rhys started, his voice hollow. “Philip is dead. So is Alex. This isn’t the time to play games.”

At this, Vasily clenched his teeth. “I . . . didn’t know that,” he said after a period of silence. A few beats passed again. “That’s a shame.”

“But you did know about Jessie,” I said. “You’re working with Saul.”

“And you’re not the only Sect member,” Brendan added. “Why? What’s the end goal? What are you getting out of this?”

“What am I getting out of it?” Vasily’s laughter had a bitter tinge, almost incredulous, as if the answer should have been obvious. “If you want to know that, you’ll have to ask me another question. What happened in the Devil’s Hole?” It was the question I didn’t dare speak aloud. Rhys flinched at the name. “Come on, Maia. I know you want to know.”

I could see Rhys’s Adam’s apple bob up and down his throat as he finally pulled away and stared down at the floor.

“Eyes here.” With a quick snap, Brendan straightened his back. “I asked you a question.”

“What happened?” Vasily’s eyes were wild. “Ask me, Maia.”

“Stop it. Stop it.” I darted to Vasily’s side, pushing away the table full of bloody tools, one of them a common industrial drill. The Surgeon didn’t seem to mind. He stood at the side of room, quietly waiting his turn. I could see Rhys shaking. “Leave Rhys alone! Just answer our questions, damn it. Why are you working with Saul? Who else is involved in the Sect? What are you planning?”

“Whatever sins Saul has committed, it’s nothing compared to those of the Sect.” Vasily sounded calm, but his bloody hands had clenched into fists. “You remember, don’t you, Aidan? All the people there with us. The staff, the doctors. Dr. Gladstone? You remember, right, Aidan?”

“That’s enough.” Rhys lowered his head, but I could see his unfocused eyes widen. Even as he caught his trembling left hand with the other, he didn’t move from his spot. The name had frozen him to it.

Vasily let his head dangle awkwardly at one side, his lips creeping into a crooked grin when he added, almost wistfully, “Let’s go, Aidan. One day, let’s go back together.”

“Enough!” Rhys charged past Brendan, nearly pushing him out of the way to grab Vasily’s neck.

“If we ever did go back . . . I bet you we’d still find Gladstone’s body down there.” Vasily’s raspy voice scraped up his throat as Rhys squeezed it. “But we both know she didn’t die in that fire. A shame. She liked you too.”

“Stop lying.” And Rhys turned to me, frantic, pleading. “He’s lying. Don’t believe him. Don’t believe anything he says.”

“Aidan! Let him go,” Brendan warned, lifting his arms as if to stay a wild beast.

“Rhys,” I said, more gently. “It’s okay.”

That’s all I had to do. The sound of my voice was what snapped him back to reality. Rhys stared at me as if he’d woken from a dream, searching my worried eyes for answers. Then, finally noticing his own hand around Vasily’s neck, he let out a gravelly breath and stumbled back in shock.

“I’m sorry,” he said. Whether it was to Vasily, to his brother, or to me, I didn’t know. Maybe it was to all three of us. Regardless, it didn’t matter. Without raising his head, he strode out of the room.

“Now that you’re here, I have something to tell you, Maia.” Vasily swallowed painfully, as it seemed he’d overtaxed himself. He shifted uncomfortably beneath the straps as the blood started to ooze from his right wrist, adding to the dried stains on his shirt. “That day in France, I was wrong to try to kill you. I acted on my own, but I was wrong, and I apologize.”

He wasn’t the first person to say that to me. But I wasn’t buying it.

“So now you’re sorry for trying to kill me, but you didn’t have a problem setting Saul free and sending him right after me,” I said.

“Saul doesn’t want to kill you.” He twitched beneath his straps. “We’re not your enemies, Maia. The Sect . . .” His expression turned cold with a violent twitch. “It’s the Sect that’s wrong. Not me. Not Saul. Not Jessie. Yes, Jessie . . . Maia, when the time comes . . . make sure you listen to her. Listen well.”