Fire Bound (Sea Haven Sisters)(7)

The others looked from him to the man sitting in the sand, warming himself by the fire, taking a drink from the bottle.



“You asked him to look after Lissa,” Stefan guessed. “I should have thought of that. I was worried about her running around Europe alone. If either of the Sorbacovs is paying attention, they’d already have the information that she’s living on the farm here. They’d know she’s family, and they might try to use her to get to us.”



Gavriil nodded. “I don’t want any of the women going anywhere without protection. We can’t go, and Lissa would probably torch our homes if she knew we were sending someone to look after her, but this way, we’ll have peace of mind and she can do her work safely. I contacted him as soon as I learned Lissa was going on her trip. Fortunately, she had to delay it by two weeks, thanks to the German castle, so that gave him a month to work on a cover in Europe.”



Lev nodded his approval. “Good idea, Gavriil.”



The brothers hurried quickly across the wide expanse of sand toward the fire. The “homeless” man rose, a smile on his face. He stepped around the burning logs so he could meet them out in the open. Gavriil pulled his brother close, thumped his back and then passed him around to each of them. They had to introduce themselves, as they hadn’t seen Casimir since he was a child.



Once they settled around the fire and the bottle of Scotch had been passed around, Gavriil spoke. “I know you don’t have much time and the rain is going to break soon, but since you were here in the States, I wanted to see you. I knew the others would as well.”



Casimir nodded. “I felt the same way. It was a long way to come and not get the chance to see all of you together. I wish Viktor were here as well. Has anyone heard from him? I check the emergency drop all the time, but in the last five years, he’s gone completely off the grid.”



They all shook their heads.



“He’s in deep cover,” Gavriil said, infusing confidence in his voice. “We’d know if someone got to him. It would be such a victory, they’d crow about it.”



“Viktor’s hard to kill,” Stefan agreed.



“I’ve heard rumors lately that several of the men who went to school with him have been off the grid as well,” Maxim said. “The toughest, the most feared, the legends of our schools, seem to have gone quiet.”



“And that includes our esteemed brother,” Ilya said.

They went silent, passed the bottle of Scotch around a second time, each saluting the red rings around the moon with it before they took a drink.



“Lissa is one of us, Casimir,” Lev said, breaking the silence. “Important to our family. She’s tough, and thinks she can take care of herself, but she has no idea what the Sorbacovs are capable of if they do, in fact, know she’s considered family to us. Gavriil tells us you’re willing to look after her.”



“I said I would,” Casimir agreed. He didn’t sound like he’d enjoy the job.



“She’s smart and definitely notices everything,” Stefan pointed out. “You’ll have to be careful if you don’t want her to catch on.” He looked around the circle at his brothers. “And we don’t want her to catch on. She could make trouble for us. She’d get those women riled up, and we’d all be in trouble.”



Casimir gave a derisive snort. “From just the little time I’ve had for observation, all of you are whipped.” He kept the wistful note from his voice. He was going to do this one favor for his brothers – men he’d been separated from his entire life. Men he didn’t know but felt extreme loyalty toward.



“I’m not going to lie to you,” Maxim said. “My woman is my world. I think I speak for everyone here, their women are the same to them. Lissa is part of that. She’s important, Casimir. We need her safe.”



Casimir shrugged. “You’ve got my word.” He leaned across the warmth of the fire, his gaze caught for a moment. His eyes were molten, a liquid silver, nearly the same color as Ilya’s, the youngest brother. His hair was nearly pitch-black. Strange streaks of silver radiated through, indicating that at some point something sharp had sliced along his skull and left behind those five thin lines. He kept his hair cropped short and neat. He had a strong jaw, covered with stubble.



His features were cut with angles and planes. Three scars ran from his chin to the top of his skull, thin slices, as if whatever had managed to cut into his head had also found his face. The scars were barely there, but they kept his face from being model beautiful.