Chapter 53
I need your help to make this work, big brother. Being Silent this way . . . it’s hard. But I have to try. We all have to try. For Neiza.
I thought moving away from Mom and Dad and our younger brothers, as well as you and Marian, would make it easier, but it’s still so difficult even though Kanoa’s extended family pulled strings to make sure Neiza and I were in the first intake of Mercury’s Fundamentals of Silence Parent/Child course.
The Adelajas have been truly amazing in their support. You know how important they are, how much Catherine and Arif Adelaja contributed to the development of Silence. I never expected the family to offer such support to the widow of a second cousin who wasn’t part of their inner circle. But they’ve embraced me—and especially Neiza.
In fact, the family has invited me to move into their compound.
They’ve lived life in Silence (as it is now) long before the referendum made it mandatory, and as such are far further along in their adherence to the Protocol. It’s an extraordinary opportunity for Neiza and since my work can be done remotely, I’m going to take them up on the invitation.
This is where I need your help, D. Please don’t call me, or send me any letters touched with emotion. Articles of interest, subjects we can argue about with pure logic, health updates stripped down to the medical basics, that’s all I can handle as I settle into this new way of life.
Thank you from your younger sibling,
Hien
—Letter from Hien Nguyen to Déwei Nguyen (9 June 1980)
THEO HAD NEVER been around a family this loud and affectionate. This open to life. They all seemed to know what was going on with the others, multiple overlapping conversations taking place at once. Not only that, but they kept moving around the table—though Yakov never left her side, some part of his body always in contact with her own.
More movement. Now it was Yakov’s delicately lovely babushka Quyen who sat at the end of the table, at a right angle from Theo. The quietest member of the family gave her a gentle smile, her uptilted eyes a kind hazel with greenish edges and her hair cut in a stylish bob. The strands were a silky and heavy brown with gold highlights. The kind of hair that fell back into place after being mussed up.
Just like Yakov’s.
How extraordinary, Theo thought, to sit at this table and see so many of the people from whom Yakov and his brother had inherited pieces of their genetic makeup. Nothing cold or remote about it, DNA only a small part of the tapestry of their shared history.
“Tell me about yourself, Theo,” Babushka Quyen said, and it was no demand but rather genuine interest. “Do you have any brothers or sisters?”
Theo’s heart fluttered. Being able to acknowledge her relationship with Pax would never be something she took for granted. “A brother,” she said, as Yakov spoke to his grandfather, the deep timbre of their voices beautiful background music. “A twin.”
His grandmother’s pupils flared. “Oh, that mischief bear,” she said, glancing at Yakov. “He never once mentioned that.”
Theo wondered when Yakov would’ve had time to talk to his family about her at all, but she took the words at face value. And she decided to speak the rest of her hidden truth. “We weren’t allowed to grow up as twins, were separated at seven years of age.” A grief that would live forever in her, but that had been tempered by her new bond with Pax even as Scarab Syndrome raised its lethal head.
Though the pain of the reminder squeezed her chest, she tried to focus on the good. “We’ve found each other as adults, though, and we’ve become a family.” Odd to say that surrounded by such a loud and boisterous one, but for her and Pax, their quiet loyalty to each other was family, too.
She knew at that instant that she wanted to introduce her brother to Yakov, to show Yakov her family as he’d shown her his. It mattered to her that the two most important men in her life connect . . . that they like each other.
Babushka Quyen made no effort to hide her anger on Theo’s behalf, her face set in grim lines. When she reached out a fine-boned hand toward Theo’s, Theo turned hers palm up in silent welcome.
The older woman’s grip was tight, her shoulders set. “I can’t believe anyone would do that to any siblings, much less twins.” She nodded at Pavel and Yakov. “Our two mischief bears have always been peas in a pod. Very much their own individual people right from day one, but their bond as brothers? It’s extraordinary.”
“I feel it anytime they’re together,” Theo said. “As I feel the embers of it glowing between Pax and me.” It was so easy to talk to this gentle nonjudgmental woman that she added, “I want my brother and Yasha to meet. I’m not sure how it’ll go, however. Pax can be protective.”
“That’s a good sign in a brother. As long as he’s not overbearing.” Babushka Quyen patted at their clasped hands with her other one, her touch warm and full of love. “Though I think you’re plenty strong enough to take on even such a brother.”
The elder’s gaze went to her mate, her expression soft. “My love adored his mama, you know, so it’s a great compliment for him to compare you to her. I wanted you to know that.”
She squeezed Theo’s hand. “Spine like iron, my mother-in-law. I thought for sure that she’d hate me on sight. I’m her opposite, you see. Soft and born wanting to please. But I should’ve known that the woman who’d raised my Vitüsha had a generous heart.
“She told me that all she’d ever wanted for her son was that his mate love him as deeply as she knew he’d love them. And that there wasn’t a single doubt in her mind on that point where I was concerned.” Another gentle pat of their clasped hands as Babushka Quyen turned her lovely eyes on Theo once more. “That’s all we want for our grandcubs, too. Just love our Yashka, Theo.”
A thousand cracks across Theo’s heart, the organ fracturing under the pressure of her primal, potent emotions for Yakov. She knew she couldn’t set those emotions free. She wasn’t normal. Would never be normal. It wasn’t that she had a surface scar. The damage was in her brain. The rages could strike at any moment, destroying everyone in her path.
Including this rambunctious and loving family that was Yakov’s heartbeat.
YAKOV came home from the dinner happily buzzed. He could tell that, no matter their reservations, his family liked Theo. That display of steel against his grandfather had a lot to do with it—but it wasn’t the entirety.
While his dedushka might be the louder one, his babushka’s voice held equal weight, and she’d made it clear that she’d found a kindred spirit in Theo. “This family needs another tranquil member,” she’d said at one point. “Arlushinka, Theochka, and I plan to kick the rest of you heathens out once a month and sit in a nice quiet salon over a cup of tea or coffee.”
Everyone had laughed, with his mother protesting that she could be quiet, too. His babushka had rolled her eyes. “Cub of mine, if you can sit still for five minutes without twitching, I’ll eat my plate, the knife, even the fork. With hot sauce.”
That had made the entire table erupt into bearish laughter.
And so it was that, no matter the darkness hanging on the horizon, and despite all they’d found to date, he walked into the apartment happy and content. He’d learned long ago to treasure the moment in which he lived.
“Don’t look always to the future, cublet,” Babulya Quyen had said to him once, her cherished face rich with emotion. “That’s what my papa taught me. For if you look only to the future, you’ll lose the present. Too many of my papa’s designation lived in the future and so they never lived at all.”
A profound lesson. One that Yakov fought to put in practice tonight even as worries about Theo gnawed at his brain. For this moment would never again come, and he was too delighted by it to allow it to fade into the background of a future that hadn’t yet come to pass.
Loose and lazy limbed, he nuzzled at Theo in the privacy of their suite. But he wasn’t a bear to demand intimate skin privileges, especially not when Theo had started the day keeping a frigid distance from him. Not because she didn’t want him, but because she was afraid of what she might do in a rage.
Yakov wasn’t about to bulldoze past her objections.
That didn’t mean he was about to leave her to stew alone. Because Theo had a lot of bleak ideas in her head, and those ideas would grow in the dark and in the cold. He’d felt them begin to take root at the cantina, only to fall again and again under the weight of his family’s affection—and that family included an empath. They’d claimed Arwen as a Stepyrev (in secret, obviously, because they weren’t stupid enough to annoy Ena).
“I’m going to cuddle you tonight,” he murmured to Theo before she could start to listen to the dark again. “Hard-core cuddling. You ready?”
Theo gave him a funny look, a little smile flirting with her lips. “How many beers did you have?”
“Only ten.” In truth, he’d nursed a single one; he had no intention of letting his guard down while they were dealing with the facility, the murderer, and her grandfather’s monstrous legacy. “I’m drunk on you, pchelka moya.”
She wrinkled up her nose in that way she had of doing. “Hard-core cuddling?” A note of intrigue in her voice.
“Bear style.” After pressing a kiss to her lips, he nudged her toward the bedroom. “Ready yourself, milady. I’ll do a final security sweep, lock us down for the night.” He winked. “Hard-core cuddling requires total concentration. No interruptions permitted.”
That adorable smile yet flirting on her lips, she walked into the bedroom but stopped in the doorway to throw him an unreadable look. “Don’t be long.”
Yakov groaned. The woman was going to kill him. Cause of death: lust. Bare-naked lust. The kind of lust that wanted to bite and kiss her all over, then restart from tip to toe with his tongue. Or maybe he’d go in the opposite order.
And perhaps he could talk her into petting him all over with her soft sexy mouth. Especially around his cock.
Yakov groaned again.
“Cuddling,” he reminded himself before he could get too excited, then checked the locks on every window and door and made sure the computronic security system Pavel had cleared for him was set. After which, he touched base with the physical team on duty outside for the night hours.
He hadn’t been able to ignore the itch in the back of his brain, the sensation that someone was watching them. Might just be his hyperprotective instincts toward Theo, but he wasn’t about to take chances with the Moscow Ripper roaming the streets. The patrols hadn’t felt enough—and he was old enough to listen to his instincts when they got this . . . intrusive. It was important. The F part of his genes coming out.
“All systems green,” Elbek drawled. “No suspicious characters. Except you.”
“Thanks for doing this.” The senior soldier had stepped in at the last minute. “Where’s your partner in crime?” Who also happened to be one of the most lethal fighters in StoneWater; Moon might look like a strong wind would blow her away, but yeah, Yakov wasn’t about to pick a fight with their resident flower child.
Her nickname among the soldiers was Berserker for a reason.
“Doing a perimeter walk. And you’re welcome. You owe us a case from that new microbrewery out west.”
“I owe you two each,” Yakov said. “This is the second time you’ve both stepped in on short notice.”
“Nah,” Elbek said. “You’ve covered for us plenty before. See you in the morning.”
“Have a good night.” After hanging up satisfied that Theo would be safe, he walked toward the bedroom. He was the biggest security measure of all. No fucking Ripper was getting through him to Theo.
“Ready or not, here comes the bear,” he said as he walked in . . . and almost swallowed his tongue.
Because Theo was standing by the bed naked.
Naked.
No clothes. Not even cute little socks on her feet.
Naked.
His brain short-circuited. “O Bozhe, you’re beautiful.” All slender lines and gentle curves.
And a faint tremor.
Body and mind snapping into gear, he strode over to her—but didn’t put his hands on her except to cup her cheek. “Thela, what’s this?” he asked softly. “I was hoping for seminaked cuddling at best. Maybe first base if it was my lucky night.”
Despite the tremor, she held his gaze, no smile in her face now, nothing but unflinching intent. “I want to finish what we started last night. I want to steal this time with you.”
“Zolotse moyo, this morning—”
“I know. I was . . . embarrassed and scared.” She leaned her face into his palm. “But spending the day with Santo and Janine . . . seeing how quickly life can change, how tomorrow I might not be the Theo I am today—”
“Theo.”
She pressed a finger to his lips. “Hush.” Firm tone, the tremor no longer in evidence. “It’s not just that. It was being surrounded by all that love and affection tonight, seeing how your family interacts, how Arwen looks at Pavel with his heart in his eyes and how Pavel does nothing to hide what he feels for Arwen in turn. I’ve never lived that openly in my life.”
Her eyes shone, a wild fire to her. “I’ve been so afraid for so long, Yakov. So much rage inside me, but under that was fear. Of being hurt again, of being abandoned. After the rages, I’m constantly afraid of hurting people.” She traced his lips with her fingers. “And now, the closer we get to finding out what was happening at the Center, the more afraid I am of what we’ll find.”
She stepped closer, her breath kissing his. “I want to believe my grandfather took me to that place and did something to me on which I can blame my actions as a child, but I also know that’s likely a false hope. I’m afraid that I’ll find out I’m a murderer created by another murderer.”
“You’re not.” This time, he tugged away her hand when she would’ve stopped him from speaking. “Arwen likes you.” He shook the wrist he held—gently, but enough to get her attention. “Our resident E has a marshmallow heart, but the man is also a Mercant. He’s not one of those Es who thinks that even the most evil deserve a chance. He doesn’t believe in forgiveness for all crimes.”
Theo stared at him, her pupils huge against the blue of her irises. “He checked on me twice tonight. Telepathically.”
Yakov wasn’t the least surprised. Arwen had a sneaky way of looking after his people. “You know what he told me once? That he hates making telepathic contact with ‘people with dark souls’—those are his exact words. He only ever does it in exigent circumstances. A dinner with my lunatic family doesn’t qualify.”
Theo frowned. “Your family is not lunatic.” A push at his shoulders. “They’re wonderful.”
Somehow, his hands were at her waist now, on all that smooth and silky skin. But he was still trying to think with the head on his neck and not the one lower down. Despite the fact that Theo was naked. “Fine, they’re wonderful lunatics,” he said, laughing when she threatened to kick him.
Cuddling her closer, all those gentle curves pressed against him, he brushed her hair behind her ear. “They like you, too, and while my babushka might be kindness personified, my mother is a shark in bear’s fur. She told me she’d slap me upside the head if I messed it up with you.”
He rubbed his nose against hers. “Believe in yourself, Theo mine. So many other people already do.”
Midnight eclipsed her eyes in front of him, her lower lip quivering a little.
“I know it’s a hard thing I’m asking of you,” he whispered, running his hand up the curve of her spine, then back down—and though he was aroused through the roof, it was tenderness that overwhelmed him. “Be with me not because you’re afraid, Theo, but because you believe. Because you have hope.”