Luck (6 page)

“You’re still beautiful. Even if Tristan did beat you up,” he says.

“Aw, thanks,” I say.

Tristan coughs, pretending to be grossed out.

Or maybe he really
is
grossed out.

“You guys are so cute together,” Savannah says, letting out a girly sigh.

Sometimes, I forget she’s a girl. Because she’s always hanging out with guys. Actually, so am I. Though, I would never, ever go out in public dressed like she does most days. She just doesn’t care.

And I do care.

Not necessarily what other people think of me. I get dressed for me.

Okay, maybe a little for Damon too.

“So, three more days until the dance,” Savannah says, then squeals. “I’m so excited.”

“Me too,” Damon says, looking at me. “There will be no excuse for you not to dance with me all night.”

I seriously don’t think Damon could be anymore perfect. The way he’s looking at me, his grey eyes lit up. He looks at me like I’m the only girl in the world. And that one single dimple in his left cheek. I’ve always been attracted to him, but I think he’s gotten even better looking since I first met him.

He smiles at me, as if he knows exactly what I’m thinking.

My face grows warm.

All conversations come to a complete halt as a I hear a loud explosion that literally shakes the building. Tristan jumps into action immediately. He grabs my hand and together run from the dining hall—away from the noise. I don’t have to look back to know that Damon and his six bodyguards are behind us.

I expect us to head towards the exit, but we don’t. Tristan unlocks a door to a room that I’ve never even noticed before and shoves me inside. He comes in behind. He runs his hand over the floor, as if he’s trying to feel for something, and then he pulls. The floor opens up.

There is a secret hiding place.

Wow.

Tristan urges me inside. Soon after, Damon joins me and two of his bodyguards. They turn on a light.

“Stay here. They’ll protect you. I’m going to check out whatever that was,” Tristan says.

Before I have a chance to object, he shuts us inside the underground bunker.

Though, now that I look around, it doesn’t look like just a bunker. There are hallways that lead from the small room, but I have no idea where they go. I have a feeling that Damon’s bodyguards wouldn’t let me go exploring down here. Not that I want to. It’s really dark and I’m a little shaken up from the explosion.

Damon walks closer to me, and pulls me into his arms.

“It’ll be okay, Katerina,” he says.

I needed to hear that from him.

“I hope everybody is okay,” I say.

I can’t help but worry about my other friends. And Jade. I had just started to get to know my younger cousin.

“They will be,” he says, but he doesn’t sound quite so sure.

“I should be out there,” I tell him. “I can’t believe Tristan locked me in here. I’m trained. I could do… something.”

“They’re after you,” Damon says, in a calm voice. “You and me. We have to stay down here.”

“Exactly. They’re after me, Damon. Why should I let other people fight my battle?”

“Sometimes you just have to let other people protect you,” he says. “Trust me, if I could be, I’d be out there fighting for you too.”

Suddenly, I am thankful he can’t be out there. It’s bad enough having Tristan fight for me. But to imagine Damon… it’s too much.

“I really like you,” I tell him, just in case I don’t get another chance. That explosion was close. This could very well be my last chance to ever speak to Damon. So I may as well lay all my feelings out on the table.

“I really like you too,” he says.

Even though he’s still holding me and I can’t see his face, I can hear that he’s smiling.

“We have to move,” one of Damon’s bodyguards tells us.

He opens up a trunk in the corner of the small room that I didn’t noticed before. He grabs a brown wig, a baseball cap and a pair of sunglasses and passes them to me.

“Put that on,” he says. “Quickly.”

I pull my own blonde hair up, putting the wig over the top of it. I slip on the sunglasses and hat.

We start running down the tunnels.

“What about Damon? Why isn’t he wearing a disguise?” I ask.

“We’re following Tristan’s orders,” the bodyguard replies, as we run. “Apparently, ma’am, you’re the one in danger.”

“Me?” I ask, pushing down the panic.

Kazimir must be back.

“Yes. Tristan spotted Mikhail Vasin on campus,” he says, holding up his lit up phone. “Tristan wants to know if you can fake an American accent.”

“No,” I answer. “But I can do a British one. This one time, Eduard and I pretended to be from London for a whole week and nobody ever knew. We made up fake aliases and everything. It was so much fun.”

“Did your dad know?” he asks.

“No. My dad was working.”

“Perfect. If we happen to run into your father or Kazimir at any point, you are a British exchange student,” the bodyguard says.

“Okay,” I say, going along with the plan. Even if it is mad. “Is this the best plan that Tristan could come up with? I mean, seriously, I think my own father will know that it’s me.”

“Let’s hope he doesn’t get close enough to figure out it’s you. We didn’t exactly have a lot of time,” West says, as we come up to a door. Light pours in the window. “Out this door is a parking lot. There is a car waiting for us. We get in and leave campus.”

Ugh.

I wish Tristan were here.

I’ve got a really bad feeling about this.

Damon, who is standing beside me while one of his bodyguards checks outside, grabs my hand. It’s a small gesture, but it’s exactly what I needed in this moment.

“I think I’m falling in like with you,” I tell him.

“In like?” he asks, clearly confused.

“As in, I like you way too much,” I say, shrugging my shoulders.

“I might more than like you, but I’m pretty sure you told me I’m not allowed to say that until I prove it.”

“We haven’t even gone on a first date yet. Or kissed yet. I’m pretty sure you can’t declare something like that until we’re practically engaged.”

“Engaged?” he smiles way too big.

“No engagement talking until after our, like, seventh date,” I say.

West, Damon’s bodyguard, rolls his eyes. “You guys are too young to be talking about getting engaged.”

“I’ll be seventeen in two months. Meaning I’m only a year and two months away from being old enough,” I say.

“Eighteen is still too young,” he says.

“Maybe in America. But I’m from Russia,” I say.

The door opens. “Come on,” the other bodyguard says.

The three of us join him outside. The car is already running. I get in the back seat and slide over so Damon can get in behind me. West gets in the driver’s seat and the other bodyguard runs over to the passenger side.

I expect him to take off like Tristan did that day at the hospital, but he doesn’t. He drives like we’re about to go to the mall or something.

“Does this thing not go any faster?” I ask, feeling a tad bit impatient.

“We don’t want to draw attention, Miss Vasin,” the guy from the passenger seat says. I believe his name is Matthews. I think Damon calls them all by their last name.

I like Matthews better than West.

Remembering that Damon can speak Russian, I turn to him.

“
I like Matthews better than West
,” I tell him.

He laughs. “
West saved my life once.
”

“
That’s crazy. What happened?
” I ask.

“
I’ll tell you later
,” he says, then switches to English. “So where are we going?”

“We are driving south west until Tristan tells us otherwise,” West answers. “Depending on how this all goes, you may be getting on a plane to Switzerland and the girl will be going somewhere with Tristan.”

“Why can’t she come with us?” Damon asks, clearly not happy with the decision for us to be separated.

“The girl is the reason
you
are in danger,” West says. “If it weren’t for Tristan ordering us to bring her with us, I would’ve left her on campus. I’m still tempted to drop her off on the side of the road.”

I roll my eyes at his comment.

“That’s my future wife you’re talking about,” Damon says.

How did I go from future girlfriend to future wife? Seriously, this thing is getting a little carried away.

“Future wife?” Matthews says, looking amused.

“Yes,” Damon says. “Do you have a problem with that?”

“Not at all,” he says, turning around to look forward.

West’s phone rings.

“Hello,” he answers. “Yes, she’s safe.” Pause. “Philadelphia?” Another pause. “Okay. We should be there in about an hour.” He hands up the phone, not saying anything.

Gah, this guy.

“What’s going on?” I ask.

“Going to Philly,” West answers.

“And what about the school? What’s going on there?” I ask.

“The school is secure,” he says, simply. “Tristan is meeting us later and will tell us everything else.”

“Right,” I say, letting out a sigh.

This is going to be the longest hour I’ve ever spent in a car.

Lucky.

When we meet up with Tristan, he looks relieved when he sees me step out of the car. I’m still wearing my wig, hat and glasses, wondering
when
I’ll be able to take it off. It’s really itchy on my head.

“I’m so glad you’re all right,” Tristan says, when we walk up to him. “I was worried sick.”

“Maybe next time I can do with you instead of with Mr. Grouchy,” I say quietly, motioning towards West.

Tristan grins, but doesn’t comment.

“Here is what we know,” Tristan says. “What went off in the parking lot was a pipe bomb. It was made by somebody really skillful. We are 99 percent sure it was made by Mikhail or Kazimir. We are checking for other suspects just to be safe. We are watching the terrorist group closely. We should know if they come to America, but there are always ways to sneak in. We did a sweep of the campus, and everything is clear. Whoever did it was out of there as quickly as they came in. But the threat still remains.”

The rest of Damon’s bodyguards crowd around us.

“You guys take Damon to the safe house we planned,” he says. “Until Kazimir and Mikhail is contained, the school is not safe.”

Damon’s bodyguards start to push him back towards the car.

“Wait,” he says.

West doesn’t stop. He goes towards the car to start it while everybody else stands protectively around Damon.

“Why isn’t Katerina coming with us?” Damon asks.

“As long as she is with you, you’re not safe,” Tristan says. “I can’t risk the safety of the president’s son. I can keep Katerina safe on my own.”

West starts the car, and suddenly, I am knocked back a few feet.

I can’t hear anything but ringing in my ears.

Everything is fuzzy, and I think I’m about to pass out again.

I try to sit up but can’t.

What the heck is going on?

I look over and see that I’m not the only person on the ground. Tristan is too. He sits up and looks around. I can tell he’s confused for half a second before he jumps into action. He gets up, runs to me. He doesn’t take the time to ask me if I’m okay. He just swoops me up into his arms and starts running.

I don’t protest because I’m not even sure I can talk yet. I’m still so confused.

Why are my ears ringing?

And why did I fall down?

Wait, I didn’t fall. I was thrown backwards.

I look behind us and see that the car Damon was about to get into is on fire.

And Damon is being carried away from the scene in the opposite direction.

I try to open my mouth to speak, but I can’t. I can’t even move. I’m dead weight to Tristan. And I know that I shouldn’t let him carry me, but I’m not sure that my legs would even work to run right now.

Tristan, still running, carries me down a flight of stairs into some kind of a tunnel.

A subway station
?

Tristan stands me up against a wall, supporting my weight so I don’t fall. My legs feel like jello.

“Katerina, are you hurt?” he asks.

His voice sounds muffled, and my ears are still ringing.

“I don’t think so,” I answer, but my voice is quiet and sounds distant. “What happened?”

“We have to get on the next train. We are going to ride up a few blocks, get off, and find a way to get out of here. Do you understand?” he asks.

I nod.

“Can you walk?”

I try to take a step and nearly fall. Tristan puts an arm around me to support my weight.

“Don’t talk to anybody,” he tells me.

I hear the train coming.

“Only in a British accent, right?” I ask, mimicking my mum’s accent that I’ve hear so many times.

I miss her.

He smirks, but I can still see the worry in his eyes. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

I nod.

As we walk, he half-carries me. I wonder what we look like to other people for a few seconds, but I’m too out of it to really care.

“I’m so dizzy,” I tell Tristan, once we’re on the train. I remember to use my British accent.

“You’re going to be okay,” he says, but I can hear the worry in his voice. “With a little luck, we will be okay.”

Luck.

I know better than to believe in luck.

Everything happens for a reason. I know that.

But if luck did exist, I would definitely
not
consider myself lucky. Watching my brother die. Finding out my dad is a terrorist. Nearly dying from an exploding car. That is not lucky. Though one could argue the fact that I’ve been so close to death and haven’t died yet is lucky.

I
could have
died the night my brother did. Actually, I should have. But I didn’t. He died and I didn’t have a scratch or a bruise on me. All I had was some sore muscles for a few days after the accident. And a hole in my heart that I don’t think will ever fully heal.

Eduard was everything to me. He was my reason for existence. Without him, I am lost.

Or I was.

Until I came here.

I fit in at
New Hope Academy
. With Savannah, Kaiden and Madox. Sure, we don’t have a lot in common, but they’re my friends. I fit in with Damon, who will probably be my first boyfriend.