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going to do a split second before she did it. “No!” I

screamed.

She jumped. Hung there in that magical, weightless way

she had, as graceful as if she was on stage. Her hair

fanned out around her, rising and then sinking in slow

motion….

And then she fell. Down, down, down, her head

disappearing below the roof.

Mikhail cried out and jerked as the handcuffs went taut

and he was pulled off his feet. His shot went high and

he fell back towards the edge….

My heart stopped. I forgot how to breathe.

Mikhail thumped down on his back, still on the stone

walkway that ran around the edge of the roof. Irina’s

momentum had been enough to pull him over but not

quite enough to pull him with her. His arm stretched out

above his head and he grunted as he took her weight. I

could see his arm flex and twist—she must be swinging

from side to side.

I scrambled the rest of the way out of the hatch and ran

along the stone walkway towards them. That’s when I

found that the whole roof was covered in a slick layer of

ice. Towards the center, the fire had melted it away but

the cold stone at the edges was still slippery as hell. My

legs shot out from under me and I almost went over the

edge into the blackness beyond. Shit! I started moving

more carefully, but that slowed me down. Irina and

Mikhail were on the far side of the fucking building. It

was going to take forever to work my way around the

edge.

And I saw to my horror that Mikhail wasn’t just lying

there, supporting Irina, as I’d thought. He was moving,

inch by inch, towards the edge. The weight of Irina’s

swinging body was dragging him over. He was trying to

stop himself, but he only had one hand free to grab with

and there was nothing to hang onto but smooth, icy

stone.

There was no way I could get there in time, not if I

followed the walkway all the way around. The only

chance was to go straight across the middle of the flat

roof, right over the fire.

I changed course and stepped onto the tiles. The

timbers beneath my feet sunk sickeningly, throwing

fresh sparks into the air, and tiles tumbled down into

the fire, opening up holes that led straight down into

hell. Fuck.

Behind me, I heard Luka and then Vasiliy climb out of

the hatch. “Stop!” yelled Luka.

Vasiliy cursed in Russian. I could hear the frustration in

his voice: he wanted to do whatever it took to save

Irina, too, but what I was trying was suicide. “It’ll

collapse, you crazy bastard!”

He was right. It probably was suicide. And I probably

was crazy. But I was crazy for her. And if she died, life

wasn’t going to be worth living anyway.

I stared right at Mikhail’s sliding body, shut out

everything else and ran.

The first few steps weren’t so bad. The tiles sunk and

cracked but I was past them too quickly for it to matter.

But then my weight made one of the big roof timbers

shift and it tipped to the side, tearing a hole the size of

a sedan in the roof. Flames and heat blasted up, so

bright I couldn’t look at them. I fell sideways and rolled.

Shit! The tiles were as hot as a griddle pan! I could see

steam rise from my clothes. I put out a hand to push

myself up and—

Fuck. I actually heard the sizzle. I staggered to my feet

and ran on. The tiles I was stepping on didn’t feel like

they were attached to anything, anymore: they just

pushed down into nothingness as I stepped on them

and I could see the light growing around me as more

and more of the roof disintegrated. Don’t look down.

Don’t look down. I sprinted towards Mikhail. The

bastard’s head and shoulders were off the roof, now,

and he was picking up speed. Fuck!

I felt my feet start to fall through the roof. I launched

myself forward with everything I had and landed on

Mikhail’s legs, stopping his slide just in time.

I lay there for a second panting, clutching at him like a

lover. Then I started to haul him in. It wasn’t easy,

because I was moving his weight and Irina’s, but I

slowly got his shoulders back onto the ledge and then

his head—

He spat at me. I wanted to slug him but I needed both

hands just to stop him slipping off the roof. I wondered

why he hadn’t shot me with his free hand—had he lost

his gun? Why wasn’t he trying to hit me?

Then I saw that his free hand was stretched out over his

head, alongside the one that was chained to Irina. He

was fiddling with something that glinted in the darkness.

A key.

He was trying to open the handcuffs.

58

Irina

Chyort!

It was difficult to think through the pain. All of my

weight was hanging from one wrist and the sharp metal

cuff was pressing so hard into my flesh that I couldn’t

feel my hand anymore. I was trying to keep still

because every tiny movement made me swing, and

when I swung it felt like my arm was being ripped out

of its socket.

Most of the heat from the fire was rising straight up

through the mansion, so now I was completely at the

mercy of the wind. My almost-naked body was

splattered with snow and I couldn’t stop shaking.

Then I saw Mikhail start to fiddle with the handcuff lock.

No! I made the mistake of looking down. The fire was

throwing out just enough light that I could see the

jagged rocks three stories below. Mikhail almost had the

tiny key in the lock: I could see it scraping all around

the dark hole. In another second he’d get it in—

Angelo’s head appeared over the edge of the roof. He’d

thrown himself atop Mikhail’s chest, using his body

weight to try to pin the big Russian in place. Like an

avenging angel, silhouetted by the blazing roof behind

him, his fists swung down in arcs and slammed into

Mikhail’s face: right, then left, then right again. Mikhail

grunted, his head whipping from side to side.

I willed him to drop the handcuff key...but he didn’t. His

head lolled for a second and then he turned to the side

and spat out a tooth. “Fuck you,” he yelled over the

wind. And I saw the key finally slot into the hole. And

twist. The cuff around Mikhail’s wrist loosened, the tiny

click of the mechanism reverberating through my whole

body.

Angelo launched himself forward, scrambling along

Mikhail’s body.

“No!” I yelled. “Don’t!” I could feel Mikhail resume his

slide off the building as Angelo moved. He’s going to get

himself killed!

Angelo ignored me. He was face-to-face with Mikhail,

now, his arm stretching down towards me….

Mikhail shook his wrist and the cuff popped open. I

screamed as I fell into space.

Angelo made a final lunge, his fingers brushed my

wrist...and then that big, warm hand I loved so much

was holding mine in a death grip. But all three of us

were now sliding off the roof: Mikhail’s big body was

slipping on the ice and Angelo was still lying atop him,

riding him over the edge with no way to stop their

forward momentum.

“Let me go!” I screamed, desperately trying to open my

fingers. “You have to let me go!”

Angelo shook his head, his jaw set like iron. “No fucking

way.”

I looked up into those brown and amber eyes and

tightened my fingers around his, my heart swelling. But

Mikhail and Angelo’s slide continued, a slow-motion car

crash none of us could stop. More and more of them

passed over the edge: torsos, then hips, then legs...I