Wrigley Field, Tuesday, 12:59 pm

Ethan

Anne’s hands are still warm, fingertips glowing slightly as we leave the ballpark and come to a stop on Addison. Around us, people are filing into Wrigley Field. Like salmon headed upstream, we walk opposite the crowd, away from the stadium.

Seeing Anastasia and Viktor like that has stirred both memories and anger. I’d known him by then, I think. Just barely a member of the Brotherhood myself. No idea what was in store for me.

“Hey, buddy. Buy your girl a T-shirt.” The vendor waves the Cubs jersey in our faces.

We keep on walking, headed east toward the lake. Possibly a dangerous idea. The last time we were at Lake Michigan, things didn’t go so well. The rusalki almost drowned me. And that was just the beginning.

“Did you stop her?” Her hand tightens around mine as I ask the question.

“Baba Yaga? From sending us back to the Romanovs?” Anne shrugs. Lets go of my hand. “Maybe.”

“Anne,” I begin.

“Ethan.” She mimics me.

I exhale a sigh through my nose. This is our pattern. I analyze, she ignores. Will she ever accept how powerful she is? I wish she would. It would make all of this easier. Make us easier.

“Yeah,” she says. “I think so. It happened so fast. We’re there. We’re here. Anastasia, Viktor. You saw them, right? Absolutely not where I wanted to spend my afternoon.”

We walk another half block, maneuver through the hordes of people headed to the ball game.

I don’t expect her next question. But it doesn’t surprise me either. “Did you try to do something too? To stop it, I mean. I thought I—”

“No.” I don’t elaborate. Her tone says she thinks I did. Did I? The flutter of power that surged inside me. I felt it. Clearly she felt it. But how is that even possible? I have so little power left. And what remains has never felt so dark, so unfamiliar.

“It’s like a push,” Anne says. “Like my mind pushed into hers.”

“You stopped her that way? Is that what you’re saying?”

“Don’t know. I—it wasn’t just me. I mean, I think she stopped too.”

We walk some more.

At the corner, Anne turns to me. “Damn it. She made you drop all our peanuts, and I’m totally starving right now. Isn’t that weird? Or no, not hungry—just emptied out, maybe? Hollow. Does that even make sense?”

It does. “Magic drains. You know that.”

Briefly, her eyes narrow—you’re lecturing me, they say—but she doesn’t comment. Just says, “I get it. But this used more of me. I mean, I made a bullet rise out of your chest back in Baba Yaga’s forest. And that felt like my insides were getting sucked out. But this—this was something else. This was like—well, like the magic wanted out but something stopped it. Not something. Baba Yaga. I pushed at her. She pushed back.”

“You’re strong now,” I tell her. “Maybe stronger than she knows.”

Anne rolls her eyes. “Doubtful. And what if I am? I’m still bound, aren’t I? Stuck doing whatever it is she wants me to do. That part never changes, does it? I can push and push at her, but eventually she’s going to get what she wants. Because she’s the witch.”

This, of course, is the problem. If not for Anne, I’d have died in Baba Yaga’s forest. Every time I kiss Anne, every time I look into her eyes, I know I wouldn’t be here without her promise to Baba Yaga. No matter how much I love her, this is something I cannot change. Seeing Viktor as he once was just reminds me of how we got to this place. Because I saw only what I wanted to see. Because I allowed myself to be used. And everything that’s followed has come from that. Good and bad both.

As though she knows what I’m thinking, Anne links her fingers with mine. “God, Ethan. We’re a mess, aren’t we?”

We continue toward the lake. Against my palm, her hand grows warmer, then warmer still. I let go when it hits painful.

“Crap. Sorry. I—it’s always there, you know. The magic. I’m getting used to it. At least I’m trying. But I hate that it’s always just below the surface. Even if I needed it just now.”

“Shh,” I say. “It’s okay.” I hook my elbow under hers. Memory flashes. So many years ago, this was how a gentleman escorted a lady. I smile, imagining us together at the turn of the last century, walking arm in arm. I picture us together in London, in Paris, in St. Petersburg.

“But it’s not okay, Ethan.” Anne slips her arm from mine. “I’m bound to a witch who thinks I can figure out how Viktor is immortal again. Like I can do that? I mean, if the most powerful witch in the world can’t figure it out, how can I? And if I do, guess what? I’ll probably have to kill him to break Lily’s curse. That’s the way the story goes, right? Shed the blood of the one who’s responsible for the rusalka becoming a rusalka and she goes free. Which normally I wouldn’t care about except this rusalka is my birth grandmother. And you know what else? None of this would have happened if I hadn’t…shit.”

If you hadn’t made a bargain to save my life.

I pull her to me again, and this time she doesn’t push me away.

“You don’t have to do it,” I say eventually. “The only one who makes that choice is you. You can let him live. Who knows—maybe in the long run it’s more of a punishment than a reward. It was for me.”

“He’s not you.”

“I’m aware.”

“So what then, Ethan? Let Lily suffer forever? Let her stay like that now that my mother knows she’s alive—well sort of, anyway. How can I do that? I know she’s crazy, but she’s my mother’s mother. God, Ethan—all she wants is a chance to be human again, to talk to my mom face-to-face. To control how she lives or dies. But you know the rules—not gonna happen while he’s alive.”

I don’t have an answer. I don’t think she expects one. But I won’t lie to her. I will not tell her that taking a life is without consequence—even of someone who would gladly kill you if he had the chance.

Anne breaks the silence. “Do you think that’s what Baba Yaga wants from me? Viktor dead? Is that why she showed him to us just now? Will that be enough? Will she let me go? This is so messed up, Ethan. And my life was already messed up enough.”

“There’s a way,” I tell her. “We’ll find a way.” I work to believe my own words. Maybe there is a way. In all those fairy tales, there is always a loophole. We just have to find ours.

And because words aren’t enough right now, I kiss her. She hooks her hands behind my neck and kisses me back. Her lips press against mine, warm, salty, sweet. It will be okay, I think. It has to be. I’ll make it okay for her. Whatever the cost. This second chance at life that I’ve received? It has no value without her.

Anne opens those luminous brown eyes and smiles against my lips. Things will work out, I tell myself. We’ll find a way.

And then her eyes grow wide and she sucks in a breath. Her gaze locks behind me to the other side of the street.

I let her go. Whip around.

Half hidden in the doorway of an apartment building is the tall, thin figure of a man. He moves onto the street and rounds the corner, heading south. He doesn’t turn his head, doesn’t show his face. But I would know him anywhere. So would Anne. My pulse begins to pound in my ears.

Viktor.

“It can’t be—” Anne says.

“It is. Hurry.” We sprint across the street, dodging honking cars. By the time we get to the other corner, he’s gone. I scan right, left. We run another block. Nothing.

“Stop,” I tell Anne. “There’s no point. He’s gone.”

“Was that really him? Why would he show himself like that? Maybe it wasn’t even him. Maybe it was just some more Baba Yaga hijinks. She wants to screw with my head, right? Well, it’s working.”

“Seemed real enough,” I say. “If he’s watching us now, things are going to escalate.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

It’s a request I can’t satisfy. So instead I say, “Remember how strong you are. It’s important that you remember.”

“And if I’m not?”

“You are. Not just your magic, Anne. You.”

“I’m not,” she says again. “Maybe I never have been.”

“Believe,” I tell her, because at this point it’s all I have. “Like I told you when this all began. The first thing you must always do is believe.”