Page 70 of The Darkness is Calling

Fortunately, the door opens, and Sasha storms in, furious, heading straight for me. He stops, leaning with both palms on the desk, one second away from vaulting over the furniture right at my throat.

“Tell me where the chocolate is, because I am dying here if I don’t get even one little piece!”

“What was Ekaterina doing?” I ask, ignoring his tantrum.

“Give me chocolate, and I’ll tell you.”

The little shit knows how to take advantage of the situation, this is clear.

“I’ll give you tomorrow.”

“I’ll tell you tomorrow.”

With a victorious smile on his face, he straightens his shoulders, and I know I have to give in.

Because I would do anything for her.

Even for the smallest piece of information.

“I’ll give you one square. That’s all. And you will tell me everything.”

“Chocolate!” he exclaims like a wild warrior.

I pull from the secret drawer the chocolate I keep here solely to calm this restless menace, and after handing him the piece he snatches like an addict, he begins to chatter.

“She was making chamomile tea. She doesn’t know where the chocolate is hidden. She looked tired, but it seems she’s having trouble sleeping. She had a thin silk robe on, cream-colored, but underneath I’m almost sure she was wearing something like a little nightgown. Oh. And she still has bruises on her neck.”

He licks the remaining chocolate from his fingers, what managed to melt in the two seconds he held it before throwing it into his mouth.

I nod slightly, satisfied with the information, though the last addition tenses my body all over again.

“I don’t know what is more concerning,” Yaroslav says loudly, rising to his feet, visibly shocked. “The fact that Sasha would sell even our Mother for a piece of chocolate, or that you gave in to this cheap blackmail just to learn that Ekaterina made herself tea!”

I learned more than that.

Beyond the clothing details, which warmed my blood, I learned that she has trouble sleeping. More precisely, I received another confirmation, because Dima also reported that she seems tired, judging by the dark circles under her eyes these past few days.

“Hey,” Sasha defends himself, offended. “For Mamushca, I’d ask for more chocolate. She’s not you.”

I start laughing, because Sasha’s joke makes even Yar to fight back a smile, though he does not miss the chance to curse him.

But slowly, both of them look at me as if a purple horn has grown out of my forehead.

“Do you see it too?” Sasha asks him.

“I see it,” Yar says slowly.

“Do you think he’s dying?”

“Judging by the way he acted these past few days, I would say yes.”

I frown at their exchange. They look like two statues speaking without wanting to be seen. Not even a blink.

“Do I need to put a bullet in each of your legs to bring you back to your senses? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“There. He’s fine,” Yar announces with relief, his body relaxing.

“But he laughed,” the blond says, still shocked. “I haven’t seen him laugh like that since we were children.”