13 to Life (30 page)

“Wanda saw me standing by myself at the Ferris wheel and offered to get me something to eat—so fast you wouldn’t even miss me,” Annabelle Lee qualified. “But we got separated in the crowd.”

“You
never
ditch me again. You want to go somewhere or with someone else, you tell me. I freaked out,” I admitted.

Sarah and Amy nodded emphatically in unison.

Pietr scrunched the hat back down over her head.

“If it hadn’t been for Pietr—” I began, but he put a hand on my shoulder.

“I just figured she’d be hungry,” he said, his eyes skipping to Wanda’s face before returning to mine. “I’m
starving
.”

“Fine, let’s get food,” I agreed, pointing everyone toward the French fries. “And
you,
” I said to Wanda, “should
certainly
know better.”

Almost apologetically she said, “I’m learning, Jessie.”

“Jess-i-CUH,” I insisted.

She smiled. “I’m learning.”

The whole time she was saying it, she never once looked
at me. She focused on Pietr like a hawk spying a mouse far below.

We walked away and were out of her sight quickly enough. “What was
that
about?” I asked him, keeping my voice low.

“Seems like an unfortunate misunderstanding—”

I gave him the Big Blink. “No. Really.” I touched my nose and pointed to Annabelle Lee’s hat.

“I’ve told you before,” he muttered.

“Well, try it again.”

“Not here,” he whispered. “Tomorrow night. You and me.”

By the end of the fair, Pietr and I had subtly arranged to meet Saturday night. The night of Pietr’s seventeenth birthday. It had all been done in quiet, stolen moments.

Beside the colossal ketchup and mustard pumps, I asked, “Tomorrow night?” And he said, “At eight.” I pushed the pump, quickly becoming collateral damage from a ketchup-y spray.

Pietr handed me a napkin, smiling.

I realized something. “No good. Too much like a date. Dad would be suspicious,” I pointed out. Actually,
no
. Dad would be primed to kill if he thought my friendship with Pietr had evolved even further since spending a night in his bedroom.

Pietr shook his head, “Something’s gotta give, Jess.”

We next met anointing our fries with the malt vinegar shakers. “Has to be nighttime,” he insisted, “and it could take a while.”

I threw him a scandalized glance, followed by, “I
knew
you were a vampire.”

He snorted. “
That
would be simple.”

“A slumber party, then,” I suggested.

It was his turn to look scandalized. “I don’t do pillow fights,” he said, looking as if he was drawing a moral line.

And that was how we worked out the details of our lie.
Over common condiments. It was deceptively simple. I would tell Dad I was going to a slumber party at Sarah’s immediately following a study session at Pietr’s. That way, Alexi and Pietr could pick me up and we could bypass Sarah altogether. And I would be with Pietr—in the forest—all night long. I couldn’t stop my heart from thundering around my chest at the thought.

It would be a tough sell, getting permission to be out all night so close to Dad catching me. But it had to work. I had to know the strange truth behind Pietr’s uncanny ability.

Until then, all I could do was hope was our deception
was
simple enough to be believable.

Pietr called later that evening and, after we both messed around on our computers, he worked with me to firm up plans for his birthday. Until Alexi stormed into his room.

“What are you planning, Pietr Andreiovich Rusakova?” I heard Alexi snarl.

“I’d better go,” Pietr stated.

“Pietr, wait—is everything—”

The phone clicked. Pietr was gone.

I held it to my ear for another moment, anyhow, thinking of the venom in Alexi’s tone. Even with Pietr’s parents gone and choices exceedingly limited regarding guardianship, I still thought Alexi was only barely the lesser of two evils when compared to a foster parent arrangement.

I hit redial.

Busy.

Dammit.
What was going on over there? And then I thought about the Skype channel Pietr had opened earlier that evening with me. My computer had reverted to its screensaver mode
while we had talked on our phones, lounging comfortably around our respective rooms. But if Skype was still running, I might be able to hear
and
see through Pietr’s Web cam. I just needed to make sure he couldn’t see
me
.

I leaped over to my computer and plugged in my headset. The channel was up. I pressed a few keys and made sure Skype was set for me to spy. Pietr and Alexi were still arguing. Pietr sat on his bed, Alexi pacing tight circles in front of him.

I wedged a knuckle into my mouth. I couldn’t risk falling into the argument myself and focused on the fact I was just watching. . . .

“It’s none of your business, Sasha.” Pietr might have looked as if he were pouting, but his sullen expression hid emotions coming to a boil.

“Everything here is my business, whelp,” Alexi said with a sneer, leaning over Pietr. “This family is all any of us has. That
girl
”—he pointed to the discarded phone—“already knows too much.”

“That
girl,
” Pietr retaliated, “is very important to me. To all of us, if you ask Catherine.”

Alexi snorted. “Just because Tsarina Ekaterina read something in some tea leaves, you would have this stranger be a risk to us all?”

“I would have that
stranger
—Jessie, to you—
understand
me.”

“Shit, Pietr!” Alexi snapped. “It doesn’t work that way. Have you forgotten who we are?”

“
What
we are,” Pietr corrected, eyes narrowed.

“Whatever!” Alexi’s arms waved above his head, his face flashing through at least three shades of red. “She knows too much! She’s too close to
you
.” He thrust an accusing finger in Pietr’s face. “If she finds out the truth . . .” He began to pace again, holding his hands tightly behind his back.

Pietr’s expression was so hard Alexi pulled his finger back immediately. “Jess needs to know,” Pietr insisted.

“And when she freaks and tells everyone?” Alexi asked, his tone cold again.

I leaned closer to the computer screen.

“She won’t.” Pietr was adamant.

“I don’t
know
that.” Alexi turned away from Pietr. “I could forbid you from seeing her.”

I shoved my knuckle farther between my teeth.

Pietr was on his feet. “You wouldn’t dare . . .”

“I’ve dared more than you can imagine for this family,” Alexi countered.

“I won’t obey,” Pietr swore.

Alexi faced him once more, nose to nose. “You know you won’t be
able
to disobey, Pietr.”

“I will fight you with all that I am.”

“For some girl?” Alexi laughed. “Ohhhh. Are you
in love,
little brother?” he mocked.

Pietr blushed.
Blushed!

I sat back in my chair, dumbfounded.

“You wouldn’t understand,” Pietr grumped.

So what the heck did
that
mean? Was he in love or not? Crap.
Ask the question again, Alexi,
I willed the figure on the screen.

But he didn’t.
Nuts.

Alexi ran his hand through his hair. He reached into a pocket and pulled out a cigarette and lighter.

Pietr glowered and Alexi pocketed them both once more.

“Put her to a test,” Alexi finally suggested.

“What? What test?”

Alexi paced the space before Pietr’s bed, rubbing his chin in thought. “It must be dramatic. Something that will prove
undoubtedly she is tied tightly to us in her loyalty. That she trusts
you
unerringly. If she passes, things continue. If she fails—well, it won’t matter much then. Those who fail tests of faith leave quickly enough on their own.”

“And how would you test her?” Pietr asked, suspicious.

Alexi grinned and picked up one of the few things (excluding the multitude of books) that decorated the bedroom. I squinted at the computer screen.

He smiled, considering his idea. My stomach churned as I imagined what it could be. But Pietr would keep me safe, wouldn’t he? The only way to learn Pietr’s strange secrets (and I felt certain there was more than one) was to prove my loyalty. To show my absolute trust.

“This test will be quite fitting to our heritage,” he grinned.

“I doubt breaking out the vodka for a drinking game’s appropriate,” Pietr scoffed, trying to lighten the mood that even in my room across town brought both darkness and chill.

“You must learn more respect for our people,” Alexi warned. Then, an instant later, he smiled again. “You have studied our classics,
da
?”

“Of course,” Pietr said, his head tilting in speculation.

Pietr caught the thing Alexi had been holding. “Then you know
that
may be far more than it first appears.”

Pietr held it up, his eyebrow rising when he next looked at his eldest brother.

A model train.
What?

“Come.” Alexi replaced the tiny train and tweaked Pietr’s nose. “Smell that?”

Pietr winced. “Who couldn’t?”

“Cat baked cookies,” Alexi said with a smile.

“Oh, God,” Pietr whispered.

“I know, I know,” Alexi agreed. “But we
are
her brothers. We must be supportive.” He shrugged. “I will explain the test and all will be as it should be in the end.”

He wrapped an arm around Pietr’s shoulders, and although Pietr hesitated, he allowed his brother to lead him out of the room—and out of Skype’s earshot.

I wondered what Alexi was plotting. And made a mental note to avoid Catherine’s baking if at all possible.

Shutting off Skype, I clicked over to Google and ran a search. Train + “Russian Literature” + symbolism. Up popped references to
Anna Karenina
.
Nuts.
Someday I would seriously need to read that book.

“Jessie!” Dad called from someplace downstairs. “Dinner. Now!”

Pietr was smart enough to ask my father’s forgiveness for encouraging my secret overnight visit. After Pietr explained about his parents’ deaths, Dad actually said if he’d known
that,
things would have been a little different; that death impaired everybody’s judgment, and he was sorry for Pietr’s loss. One little discussion (and the fact that Pietr helped with the Saturday morning chores for free) went far toward fixing things between the two most important guys in my life.

Unfortunately, I knew I’d have to risk that fragile trust all over again to unravel the puzzle that surrounded Pietr.

It wasn’t long after morning chores that Dad let me go for a ride with Pietr. I never specified horses or ATVs, and Dad didn’t ask details. He had to pop by the factory and fiddle with some machine, anyhow. He informed us that we had an earlyafternoon curfew and to use our cell phones if we even thought about asking permission to change the plan.

Pietr pulled the ATV to the edge of the path. Although I’d grown up in Junction, I had no clue where we were at the moment. I wondered if we were even still
in
Junction or somewhere beyond its gerrymandered borders. He cut the engine and turned to me quietly, the solemn expression on his face making his eyes cloud and turn stormy gray. “I would have never asked this of you, Jess.”

My heart hammered. Ask what? Where were we and why choose this place for my test of loyalty? “I know. I understand.” What a lie.

Pietr called me on it. “
Nyet
. You don’t,” he whispered, his normally crisp voice raggedly edged and profoundly accented with a distinctive Russian rumble. “But you will. Soon.”

“What do I have to do?” I asked, glancing around. Now the engine was silent, I heard water. And something else. Not quite like wind, not rain . . . I jumped when a train whistled in the distance, the sounds connecting to answer my curiosity.

“Alexi will meet us soon. Put this on. I’ll carry you.”

Normally I would have scoffed at his naïve belief he could just tote me around. I threw hay bales and rode bareback. I was no wisp of femininity. But there was a quality to his voice that suggested he’d find a way to lug me along—even if I was loaded with bricks. I took the bandanna he offered. I must have looked as confused as I felt. “Put it on—?”

“A blindfold,” he confirmed.

Well,
that
was reassuring. I hated putting the things in my hair, and would face any test of courage blind rather than gagged. I was a talker, after all. I got gifted with gab whenever I grew nervous. I was both a talker and a writer, an expressive girl . . .
Oh, God,
I realized.
I’m freaking out.
I blinked a couple times, my brain stuttering.
Breathe. . . .

“We can leave,” he offered.

But I knew as honest as he was being, I couldn’t leave. I didn’t dare. Leaving now would mean I couldn’t be trusted. That I wasn’t brave. Or worthy. Crap.
That
didn’t matter to me. Suddenly I realized I didn’t know what leaving would really mean except that things between Pietr and me would change. Forever.

I put on the blindfold, turning so Pietr could tie it tight. Full of worry, Pietr’s face was the last thing I saw.
Stupid heart. Stupid girl.
I wanted to make a joke of it all, but before I could find any words, he picked me up and held me in his arms as if I were nothing.

My head on his chest, I marveled at how fast his heart raced. It seemed unnatural anything could pump that fast without exploding in a final fit. A breeze stirred the hair near my face and as careful as he was, the subtle twitches of his muscles telegraphed the whole story of our run back to me as I lay like a very solid sack of flour in his grasp.

Every rock he balanced briefly on or leapt ably off of was known to me. Felt by me. I knew when brambles snared his jeans, heard them hiss as he tore straight through, making his own path. He carried me up sharp inclines and down rapidly slanting hillsides. He was fast. Remarkable and surefooted.

“Ow! Dammit!” I snapped, more in fear than pain when my shoes whacked against a tree trunk at his amazing pace. My toes tingled and I curled against him more tightly—a more compressed sack of flour in his arms.