sensation to my chest I could only associate with Christmas cheer. I didn’t even like Christmas. “I thought you believed I couldn’t die, kotyonok,” I said roughly. She swallowed. “There’s so much blood . . .” A full moon lit the room almost as well as the overhead light. Blood dripped down my arm, coating my chest and her hands. She must have taken off my shirt to check the damage. I was surprised I didn’t wake up, though I hadn’t taken care of the gunshot wound as well as I should have. Alexei’s games made that impossible. Albert had dug the bullet out and wrapped up my arm, but it seemed to be bleeding decently now by the small puddle on the floor. The fact I could move my arm fine told me it looked a lot worse than it was. “Tt’s not all mine.” The blood on my chest wasn’t. “Whose?” Her voice wavered. She probably thought it was her papa’s. It should be. Would be. “A priest’s.” As blasphemous as it sounded, he was a really shitty priest on Alexei’s payroll. She sawed her lip between her teeth. “Oh.” I was sure she’d have something more to say once the statement sank in, but she remained silent, sitting on the edge of the couch in nothing but one of my T-shirts. She looked like Michelangelo’s wet dream. As usual, she wasn’t wearing a bra, her nipples visible beneath the white fabric. Apparently, I still had some blood left in me, and it rushed to my groin. Tear-stained cheeks. Glistening eyes. Legs I would die for. She was so beautiful, the sight punched me in the gut. A train car had exploded like a scene in an action movie, but when pills dropped from the sky, all I saw was the memory of Mila dressed in yellow, standing on cracked pavement catching snowflakes in her hand. Greedier men than me were out there—her papa included—but I suddenly knew I had them beat as the impatient, covetous heat erupted inside for this girl who cried for me. Pulling her lip free from her teeth, I ran an inked thumb across her mouth. “Nothing to say about my blackened soul?” Her soft eyes lifted to mine. “No.” My gaze hardened, her response sending an irrational lash of annoyance through me. The knowledge was difficult to admit to myself, but I liked this girl an indecent amount. I liked her in my home—even with all the mud she