“There is no such thing as a dead end,” Sergei said, pulling his wife closer to his side and wrapping his arm around her waist. “Whoever this is wants vengeance for a wrong they feel has been done to them. Enough to take another’s life. Motive and anger will win out over cleverness and patience, eventually. Until then, we remain vigilant and ready.”

Kir covered Cassie’s hand on the table with his own and gave a gentle squeeze. “We will keep you safe, malyshka. This level of security will not always be necessary.”

This level of security.

Not that the security would go away after they found whoever they were after.

A minor nuance to be sure, but one her mind latched onto. Much the same way her parents would have jumped in to add their own censure.

We can’t change who our parents are, or what we like and dislike, but we can choose happiness.

Did she really mind having someone watching over her? Evette dealt with it every day and didn’t seem to mind. Emerson, too. And Sam, Patrick and Abel had been anything but a burden the last several days. More of a security blanket than a hindrance. Who cared about details like that if it meant time with Kir? If it meant enjoying family dinners like tonight and trips to festivals with people who knew how to enjoy themselves?

“I don’t mind the security,” she said. “I’m adjusting, even if it is a little weird.”

“Good.” He palmed the back of her neck and pulled her in for a quick kiss. “Then, how about if we get you back to the carriage house so you can rest?”

“Sure.” She stood, picked up her plate and reached for Kir’s. “I’ll just help Evette clean up first.”

“Oh, no.” Frieda hopped up, hustled around the table and took both the plates from Cassie. “You two go and take a load off. I’ll help Evette, then I’m gonna hit Olga up about seeing a movie.”

The comment earned her aunt more than one surprised look.

Cassie opened her mouth to ask when those plans had come about, but her aunt shot her a don’t-even-think-about-it look.

Ah.

Ever the sneaky one, her aunt was either in matchmaker mode, or flat-out consorting with Kir to give them some alone time. Not that he’d let Aunt Frieda’s presence be a deterrent for sleeping in her bed the last four nights. He’d also proven himself adept at using hands-on sexual attention to ensure the recent changes in Cassie’s life didn’t impact how soundly she slept.

“Well, okay then.” She stood and looked to Kir whose smirk clearly indicated he was aware of what her aunt was up to. “Looks like I’m all yours.”

“That, vozlyublennaya, has never been in question.” He stood, kissed the back of her hand and offered the table at large a semi-bow. “If you’ll excuse us?”

The walk along the meandering flagstone path was quiet, only a few cicadas filling the summer night with their songs and the dwindling hum of cars winding through the neighborhood. Kir ambled beside her, his gait unhurried. He covered her hand notched in the crook of his elbow with his free one as if he had all the time and patience in the world.