The Killer’s Vow by Aria R. Blue
Simon
Ikeep my head low as I walk.
The cobblestone streets of Red Square are the only thing I see. Even though it’s late in the morning, the sharp cold still bites the exposed parts of my skin.
I only look up when I reach my destination.
“You’re late,” Vladimir says, folding the menu and placing it down.
I sit opposite him, facing the outdoor café near St. Basil’s Cathedral. “I didn’t know if I wanted to show up.”
“What is with all that—” he says, pointing around my face as he narrows his eyes at me.
I’m still in disguise.
Still trying to protect her. If people find out that she’s alone right now, they’ll come after her twice as hard.
I tilt my head up.
The weak sun does little to warm my frozen heart. But it still beats her name.
No matter how many men I kill, this ache won’t be soothed by violence.
“Where are the files?” I ask. “The only reason I’m here is to catch up on work.”
“And I thought you were here because you missed me,” Vlad says, his big silver head glancing to our right. “I heard you had a fun little outing in China.”
I’m not surprised he knows.
But I am surprised by how quickly he found out.
It hasn’t even been twelve hours since I landed in Moscow. Vlad must have been keeping track of my movements if he found out so soon.
“You’re going to have to speak with Anoushka again, Simon,” he says. “And please don’t blackmail her this time.”
“The last thing I need right now is a pep talk with a fucking shrink,” I say through clenched teeth.
The inside of my mouth is dry. My eyes burn.
I don’t remember the last time I ate.
Without the medication flowing through my veins, my mind is scattered all over the place, jumping from one useless thought to another.
“It’s my responsibility to look after your mental stability,” Vlad says, taking a sip of his double espresso.
“You were the one who got me into this,” I snap. “Remember?”
“Don’t act like you didn’t have a choice,” Vlad fires back, his right eye twitching. “And besides, it’s what you were meant to do.”
“Give me those files, Vlad,” I grit out, closing my eyes. “I need something to focus on.”
“You’re off your meds,” Vlad observes. “Don’t you remember what happened the last time?”
I went on a killing spree in Siberia for six months.
In my defense, that was a dark time. It was right after I thought Rebekah had died.
I blamed myself for her death and tried to seek atonement by spilling blood.
“Tell me what happened with the Bratva princess,” Vlad says.
“Careful, Vlad. You almost sound like you care about me,” I say, flashing him a crooked grin and wincing at the pain that bursts through my mouth.
The corners of my lips hurt because of the glue I keep using to keep my fake mustache in place. It drastically changes the way I look, so I keep going back to it anyway.
I touch my lips and come away with blood.
“You love her, don’t you?” he asks.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“You’re young, and you have your whole life ahead of you. It’s just puppy love. You’ll get over it,” he says casually.
Rage seizes me.
That’s probably what Vera told herself as well. He’ll get over it.
It’s probably also what my mother told herself when she dropped me off at the orphanage. He’ll get over it.
I flip the fucking table and hold my gun to Vlad’s forehead.
“I said that I didn’t want to talk about it.”
A man reading a newspaper next to us yawns before flipping a page.
Vlad’s jaw is stiff, but he holds his hands up.
“You’re making a fucking scene, Simon. Put that gun away,” he hisses.
“That’s not how you deal with his mood swings,” a feminine voice interjects. “He doesn’t respond well to being asked nicely.”
I freeze.
Rebekah.
A part of my brain is screaming at me to analyze what’s happening.
But I just don’t fucking care anymore.
I pull out my second gun and hold it out toward her.
“Why do you only get more annoying with time?” She sighs dramatically before stepping toward me, pressing her own forehead to the muzzle. “Go ahead, Simon. Shoot me.”
She knows I won’t.
That’s why she’s showing me her psychotic side. It’s to match my own.
I drop both guns.
Both of them pounce on me before I can tuck the guns away.
They grab either arm and drag me away from the public eye.
We move southward—toward the Moskva, the river where I buried my fair share of men. It’s frozen most winters, and it’s starting to thaw now.
Broken pieces of ice float in the water, the blue between them glittering like diamonds in the sun.
“What the hell were you thinking?” Vlad says, smacking my chest with his paw of a hand.
He’s almost as tall as me, with broad shoulders and white hair that gives him a natural edge over most men. If he wants to intimidate someone, he doesn’t have to try too hard.
Rebekah rushes to my defense. “That’s the thing. He wasn’t thinking.”
“You’re going to get us all killed one day, boy,” Vlad says, his words forming a cloud of smoke because of the temperature.
“Did…did she hurt you?” Rebekah asks, nudging my shoulder with hers.
I look at her.
She doesn’t care that I almost alerted civilians to our presence. As secret agents, we’re supposed to move and work in secret. I blatantly broke that rule without thinking about the consequences.
And Rebekah…she’s more concerned about my emotional state of mind.
Her alabaster skin and fiery red hair always perked me up back at the Institute.
She was my friend.
Was.
Vera’s words come back to me.
Does she know, Simon? Does she know that you’re sorry?
The truth remains that I never gave voice to my apology. It was something I felt, but I never said it out loud. I just assumed that Rebekah would know.
Now is the perfect opportunity to apologize.
But I don’t choose the high road.
I turn to Vlad. “What is she doing here?”
“I called her,” Vlad says.
“I thought it would just be you and me.”
“And I thought you would be grateful for all that I had done for you,” Vlad lashes out, his thick neck turning red.
He’s using that card now.
If it weren’t for him, I’d be on the streets. He knows it. I know it. The Russian government knows it.
So every once in a while, he dangles it over my head and makes sure that I hear it loud and clear.
He owns me.
But these days, I’m finding it hard to care.
“I shouldn’t have said that,” Vlad says, exhaling a cloud of smoke again. “I’m just worried about you, Simon. You know your performance gets affected by certain things. You can’t afford to lose focus.”
“I’m not,” I say, crossing my arms and staring at the water.
For a brief second, I wonder what it would be like to be held in its icy grip. If the waters would comfort my burning lungs.
“It’s written all over your face, Simon,” Vlad says. “That girl is—”
“Don’t,” Rebekah warns. “Don’t say anything bad about her. Can’t you see that he doesn’t like that?”
Her fierce loyalty is a punch to my throat.
I recognize even in my fucked up state that this is what counts.
These are the only kind of people who matter.
If they don’t stand up for you during your weakest moments, they don’t deserve to be by your side when you’re excelling.
“I don’t understand,” Vlad says. “You knew her for like a month. What kind of bond could you have formed in such a short time?”
Rebekah’s brown eyes are on me. “Under the right circumstances, even a day is enough to forge a bond.”
I look up at her.
And I see a little girl with red hair and missing front teeth handing me bubblegum. She sat on my bed like it was hers and decided she wanted to be friends with the moody kid.
We told each other our deepest secrets.
Rebekah told me that she had crushes on other girls. I told her that I suspected my mother had died by suicide.
“It’s a shame,” Rebekah says now, offering me a small smile. “Your girl was really hot.”
“She was,” I agree. And she was so much more.
In a sea of gray, she was the green of life. Something about her gave me purpose. A sense of responsibility.
Love, plain and simple.
There was nobody before her. And there won’t be anybody after her.
Vlad’s phone rings.
He glances down at it and punches a button, leaving us without saying a word.
Rebekah and I watch him walk away.
“He’s kind of a dick sometimes,” she says.
“You can say that again.”
Rebekah turns to me. “You know what your biggest problem is, don’t you?”
“What?”
“You haven’t let go of your past yet.”
I raise my eyebrows at her.
“Don’t give me that fucking look,” she says, rolling her eyes. “I know you too well, Simon. And your biggest flaw stems from your fear of abandonment.”
Fire licks the front of my brain.
“Don’t you have anywhere else to be?” I snap.
“She did you dirty, didn’t she?” Rebekah says softly, searching my face. “She left you. Just like your mother did.”
I look at Rebekah, the girl who was the only family I had left. She was a sister and a best friend.
Her claims are true.
Rebekah knows me better than most.
She knows the things that haunt me at night and the things that keep me going during the day.
We know each other’s fears and dreams.
And that’s why she knows that I’m afraid of being left behind. After my mother dropped me off at the orphanage and never returned, a scar formed on my heart.
And it never truly healed.
It got even worse when the seed of doubt planted my mind that she took her life.
“Where will you go?”
“I’ll be dancing, moj mal’chik. I’ll dance for you and for me.”
Like from Swan Lake,her favorite ballet performance.
Where the ending is of the white swan and her prince dancing together in the afterlife.
My mama told me that she’d dance for us.
That’s probably why I choose to fill my heart with violence.
As long as I’m feeling something, I don’t have to face my true emotions.
“You know what I miss most about old times?” Rebekah asks. She doesn’t wait for me to reply. Her eyes have that glint to them. The one she gets right before she’s about to—”Stealing.”
“You know they have a word for people who can’t stop stealing.”
“Whatever. At least I don’t have mommy issues.”
“Touché.”
“Another heist for old time’s sake?” Rebekah asks, flashing me a rare smile.
She’s only happy when she’s about to stir up trouble.
I can refuse, but I know she’s going to wear me down eventually.
“What do you have in mind?” I sigh.
Rebekah’s smile widens as she glances in the direction where Vlad just went. “I have the best idea.”