Page 36 of Prior Claim
Sevastyan narrowed his eyes. Rei was going to struggle with the smoke. “We have the lists. We have the crimes. We have the evidence. What we need is an ally. Gang Junseo has those allies. They’ve already closed ranks around him. Reevesworth Industries threw their entire weight behind his extraction. If we don’t take this opportunity, then what kind of opportunity are we waiting for?”
Anton avoided Sevastyan’s eyes. “It’s timing, Sevvy. Not just opportunity. It’s not good timing.”
Sevastyan let out a puff of disgusted air. He sank back into the couch and tapped his hand against his knee, looking away. “So we lie low.”
“Just for a few years. Let people forget about things. Refine our lists.” Anton sounded relieved.
Sevastyan forced himself to visibly relax. If he showed surprise, anger, anything, it could turn on him. If Anton had lost his edge, he was one step away from betrayal.
He’d given Ellisandre up for this mission. He’d done unspeakable acts for this mission.
“Well, then.” Sevastyan nodded. “That’s it, then. I’ll do my best to keep Collin and Alice out of it.”
Anton nodded, even more relief spreading to his eyes.
“What can’t be done is walk away from the assignment. What if they order me to eliminate Gang?”
“Collin doesn’t know him well yet. Do what you have to. Off him if it’s required. It’s . . . a regrettable sacrifice.” Anton sighed.
Easy for you to say. You’re not the one who has to look the dead in the eye.
Against Sevastyan’s leg, Rei’s body tightened. Nothing Anton would notice, but a reaction nonetheless.
Sevastyan stared at his father for a long time. Then nodded. “Understood. If I have to, I’ll make sure Collin doesn’t see the actual execution.”
“Do that.”
Sevastyan stood. “There’s a box of Cee’s candy coming. Enjoy.”
Anton’s face lit up at the name of a local candy store from the US west coast. “Toffees?”
“All of your favorites.” Sevastyan stood and smiled, buttoning up his coat. “I should go. Flight to Berlin. Have to pay my respects to Alexi.”
Anton winced. “Better you than me. Are you seeing your mother?”
Sevastyan chuckled. “Not that I know of. Don’t worry. If she’s dragged her boy toy to Berlin, I’m prepared. I brought bribes.” He reached into his pocket and swirled a sapphire and silver necklace around his finger.
Sevastyan waved off Anton’s demand that he take the private driver to the airport. “I need some exercise today. Don’t worry. I won’t summon a ride anywhere near here. I need to stretch my legs.”
Gods help me, I need to do something other than hold still.
Rei
Anton’s words played over in Rei’s head. “Do what you have to. Off him. It’s . . . a regrettable sacrifice.” He had heard it, had felt it down into his bones. Every part of him rejected the sentiment and the direction. And now he was thinking of Jun—Gang Junseo to the world, Junni to him. They’d been the oldest, Jun and Rei, but Rei had still been Jun’s elder. Late at night in their agency’s trainee dorms, Jun had fallen asleep more than once in Rei’s bed, music and concept art spread out around them as they fought to debut as idols. They’d been kids together, long limbs, uncertain smiles, desperate to grow up and become something.
Jun had. Sevastyan had let Rei witness it. He’d seen Jun’s dreams come true, at least in part. Watched him dance to stadiums packed to the sky. Seen him smile and hug the other members, lead them, praise them, and dance for their fans. Jun had become everything—a bright, shining star. All the pieces of Rei that had fought, and cried, and sacrificed, and trained, and even broke bones to become had not been for nothing. They had gone on with Jun. He’d shared his knowledge and passion with Jun, as close as brothers. Closer. Brothers didn’t breathe together, cling to each other, train in the dance studios together until they were covered in each others’ sweat, drinking from the same water bottles, laughing in a single pile on the floor from sheer exhaustion.
Rei had disappeared from the stage, but Jun was still using moves they’d created together, still singing songs they’d written together.
Rei lifted his head and met Sevastyan’s eyes. “Jun is no one’s sacrifice.” It was the first thing he’d voluntarily said since Sevastyan had slid a gun through his teeth.
Sevastyan met his gaze and nodded.
Rei dropped his eyes. The pain in Sevastyan’s gaze was too great. It was going to draw him in, a match for his own torment. But they were in Kazan, in broad daylight, where anyone could see even the slightest crack in their facade.
The taxi stopped in front of them and Sevastyan reached for the door handle. He opened the back door of the taxi and waved Rei inside.
The flights from Kazan to Moscow, and then from Moscow to Berlin, would bring them to nearly midnight. Rei kept his face mask on for the entirety, except at customs, and stayed deep in his mind. The nothingness he could so often find after training sessions with Sevastyan eluded him. Instead, there was color, and sound, and movement. Thoughts of Jun—his nam dong saeng—was bringing back memories he’d long locked away as too tender, too dangerous to touch. It was one experience to see recordings of 5N, Jun’s group, performing. It was another to know that Sevastyan would soon be shadowing Jun down the streets of Chicago.
