Savage Hearts (Queens & Monsters #3)(59)

It’s icy cold. The air is still. The sky is a clear, brilliant blue. All around the cabin, for as far as the eye can see, a pristine alpine meadow glitters under a dusting of snow. The tall fir trees surrounding the meadow are dusted, too, their powdered-sugar branches arching gracefully.

Other than the occasional chirp of a bird, it’s utterly silent.

I feel like we’re the only people in the world. In a make-believe, fairy tale world of our own design, where no one exists but the two of us.

Standing beside me, looking out at the endless view, Mal says quietly, “Mikhail and I grew up here. The Antonovs have lived in this house for four generations.” He pauses. “Well, not this house. The original cabin my great-grandfather built burned down. Hit by lightning. Mik and I rebuilt it from the ground up.”

I look at his profile, so handsome and hard.

He belongs here, in this silent wilderness. Belongs the same as the wolves, the elk, and his friend, the arrogant crow. He’s as untamed as all the wild creatures who inhabit this place, and he lives the same kind of life as theirs.

Savage.

“I grew up in a cabin, too.”

When he glances at me, his eyes are so piercing, I have to look away.

“In Lake Tahoe. It was smaller than this place. My great-grandfather didn’t build it. But it reminds me of there. The smell. The pines. The wildness around everything, how being so close to nature reminds you that you’re part of it, too. In my apartment in the city, I always felt separate from things. Like real life was somewhere else, out there. It couldn’t get to me. But in the woods, I feel more…”

I stop, searching for a word, until Malek provides it.

“Alive.”

I nod. “And unsafe.”

“Which is why I like it.”

“It suits you.”

After a short pause, he says, “I have a place in the city, too. Moscow. I stay there when work requires it. But this is where I’d rather be.”

“How far is it to Moscow from here?”

“An hour by car to the nearest town then a two-hour flight.”

That startles me. “Oh.”

“What?”

“You can take care of your business in a one day round trip that includes six hours of travel?”

He says quietly, “I’m very good at what I do.”

I breathe in the clean, cold air, letting it clear my head and calm me. “Killing people.”

He spends a while staring at my profile, then says, “It’s interesting to me that you don’t seem bothered by it.”

“Of course I’m bothered by it.” I think for a moment. “Though, to be honest, I’d be a lot more bothered if you were killing kittens. People in general are overrated. And you’re probably just offing other bad guys, mafia guys and whatnot, so part of me thinks you’re doing something beneficial for society. And yes, I’m aware that’s ridiculous, and I have no way of knowing if you’re out raping nuns and burning down orphanages and blowing up kindergarten classes, but there’s just this dumb little voice inside my head that tells me that for a bad guy, you’re actually pretty good.”

My sigh is heavy. “But I’m not in my right mind, so take all that with a grain of salt.”

Minutes of silence pass. Then he says in a low voice, “Of all the people I’ve met who know what I do, you’re the only one who’s ever treated me like I’m human.”

We stand in silence, looking out at the meadow and the trees. There’s an ache inside my chest that’s growing rapidly.

“Mal?”

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry about your brother.”

He stiffens.

“I’m not saying that because I don’t want you to kill Declan. I mean, I don’t want you to kill Declan, but that’s a separate thing. I just…I’m sorry for your loss. Even though we’re not that close, if my sister died, part of me would, too.”

After a moment of thought, I admit reluctantly, “Maybe the best part.”

I glance at him. He inhales slowly, his nostrils flared and his lips flattened.

I turn my attention back to the view, unsure what else to say. We stand side by side for a long time, listening to the silence, until he exhales.

“Your bodyguard. Kieran.”

My breath catches. “Did you find out something?”

“He’s alive. Spent a while in ICU, but he’ll make it.”

Pressing a hand over my pounding heart, I exhale a shaky breath. “Thank god.”

“The other one. The blond.”

The tone of his voice makes me nervous. “Spider? Is he okay?”

He nods, then says thoughtfully, “I have to give it to your Irishmen, they’re a persistent bunch. Dumb, but persistent.”

“What do you mean?”

He turns his head and gazes down at me with dark, emotionless eyes. “Spider’s in Moscow. He came to search for you.”

That leaves me breathless. With shock, but also with fear, because I know what Mal will do next.

And it isn’t bring Spider a welcome basket.

Panicking, I turn to him and grab his arm. “Please don’t—”

“Save your breath,” he interrupts. “I won’t kill him.”