Page 81 of Vows of Blood
The shoebox that I’ve held onto all these years. I reach for it and pull it out, then I sit down on the floor and set it in my lap.
I have kept this for so long, memories that I treasured more than the active life I was living. I open the box and look at the piles of polaroids and letters and dried flowers.
The first photo on top is the one with me and Kira and Dmitri and Anya. Standing with our arms around one another, me with a beer in my hand. We were all teenagers. All with the future in our eyes. I look at Dmitri’s face. He was younger than me, but he always seemed to know more than anyone else in the room. In fact, he used to say to always be the smartest guy in any room you’re in.
I start to think about that last moment he was alive, right after I told him that I was in love with Isabella. What would he have said to me about that if he’d had one more second or five more minutes? I was robbed of wisdom that he was constantly trying to give me, even when I didn’t ask for it.
“Honey?”
I look up to see Isabella standing in the bathroom door. Her eyebrows are lifted and her eyes are rounded as she looks down at me. Shit. I don’t want to go into this box or explain it to her. I put the photo back in and put the top back on.
“Sorry. It’s just something I’ve kept for years.” I stand up. “I should probably throw it out.”
She walks up to me and puts her hands over mine so that we’re both holding the shoebox. “We should take this with us,” she says softly. “Your memories are in here and… and I know that some of them might be painful, but they’re yours. You’re entitled to have them.”
She smiles up at me in a way that reminds me of Kira, innocence and wisdom in her eyes. It wasn’t meant to be for Kira and me, but this… this is my second chance. I think she’d want that for me in the end.
I turn and put the box in the duffel bag and zip it up. I find my shoes and a few other things and pack them. Time to leave Fortune City for parts unknown. Time to start over and take advantage of the chance I’ve been given.
31
ISABELLA
I’ve never been on a private plane before now.
It’s my first thought as the plane starts to level off and the pilot announces that we can walk around the cabin. I undo my seatbelt and look out at the sky, electric blue with puffy white clouds between us and the cities below. The sky’s the limit.
“Champagne, Mr. Svoboda?”
I look over to see who Mr. Svoboda is, quickly forgetting that’s the alias we’re flying under. Alexei smiles at the stewardess standing next to him, a tray with two champagne flutes in her hand. He takes them and thanks her, giving me one.
I take a sip and it’s really good. Sweet and bubbly. It barely even tastes like it’s alcoholic. “This is unreal,” I say to him, keeping my voice down as the stewardess walks back behind the curtain. “Did we really just flee the country on a private jet?”
His smile is glowing, brighter than the sun and twice as warm. I love the way he looks when he’s happy and relaxed. “It wouldappear so. Don’t get too used to this, though. We’ll have to live modestly for a while once we get where we’re going.”
“Right. It’s nice, though. Think we’ll ever be this rich again?”
“Maybe,” he says with a shrug. “Anything is possible now.”
I sip my champagne and look out of the window again. I feel like that’s true.Anythingis possible. A year ago, hell, a few months ago, I didn’t think I’d be on a plane with the man I plan to spend the rest of my life with headed for a brand-new life. Funny how life works out.
The phone sitting on the wall next to my seat starts to ring. I jump in surprise and spill a little champagne on my pants. Alexei looks over at me with a raised eyebrow. “Expecting someone?”
I hand him my champagne and look over at the phone’s display on the back. The number’s unknown. I bite my lip and look at Alexei. “Should I answer it? I mean, I didn’t even know you get phone service on a plane.”
“Internal Wi-Fi,” he says. “And I wouldn’t. No one has this number.”
I look down at the “Unknown” looking back at me. It’s not him. Surely, word of my leaving has reached him by now and knowing that… He would certainly not hide behind a burner. He’d want me to know it was him. I answer it.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Izzy. Heard you and my cousin blew town.”
I feel my shoulders relaxing. Alexei’s looking at me, smile gone, his eyebrows lifted. “It’s Anya,” I tell him. Then to Anya, I say, “Itcertainly looks that way. How did you get this number? Are… are you okay?”
“It took a little detective work,” she says. “When I heard about Maxim, I figured that if Alexei was going to run, he’d do it by plane. Made a few calls and got this number.”
Damn. Anya’s one resourceful chick. “Otherwise,” she went on, “I’m doing all right. Licking my wounds in an undisclosed location.”
