Chapter 29 THE MESSAGE
NIGHT AT THE VOLKOV'S
The grand doors of the Volkov mansion opened, and Nikolai walked in.
The entire family was already gathered in the living room.
Damian leaned lazily against the arm of a couch, eyes sharp with mockery.
"Here comes the mad man"
Mrs. Volkov shot him a warning glare.
"Behave"
Mr. Volkov stood slowly, his face dark with fury.
"You know why I called you here," he said coldly. His gaze locked on Nikolai. "You are testing me. You killed ten students in my school. Ten. What right do you think you have?"
Nikolai said nothing.
"And now," Mr. Volkov continued, his voice rising, "I hear that something happened to a group of friends in the woods last night. That style of killing can only be done by a demon. I said no using of our powers. What part of that is too difficult for you to understand?"
Still, Nikolai remained silent.
The lack of response was what finally broke Mr. Volkov.
"Get out of my sight!" he snapped, turning sharply and storming out of the living room.
The room fell into heavy silence.
Mrs. Volkov walked toward Nikolai, her expression softer, worried.
"Nikolai, you should listen to your father. I know you are thirsty, but you must lay low for now"
She reached for his hand but Nikolai shoved it away.
"Have some respect for Mother!" Damian yelled.
Nikolai slowly turned his head toward him. His eyes glowed faintly.
In the next second, Damian was hurled across the room and slammed into the wall with a painful groan.
Leonid, who had been glued to his phone, finally looked up and laughed. "That was impressive"
Mrs. Volkov gasped.
"He's your elder brother!" she scolded.
"Alexei is," Nikolai replied with a crooked smirk. "Don't give that title to that fool"
"The same elder brother you killed?" Damian spat, pushing himself up.
Alina finally snapped.
"That’s enough!"
"It is not enough!" Damian shot back, his voice shaking with rage. "Let us stop pretending like we do not know he killed Alexei. I hate this fake family act. I keep saying it and nobody listens. We should lock him up in an asylum. He is insane. He should have been the one dead, not Alexei!"
The words hung heavy in the air.
Nikolai slowly turned toward him, completely calm.
"It is not too late to go back in time and change that, you know"
Damian froze, his breath hitching.
Mrs. Volkov clutched her chest.
"Stop it, both of you. You are brothers for crying out loud. Damian, stop making it so obvious that you hate your brother. It is getting annoying, please"
She shook her head in distress and walked away toward the hallway.
Leonid smirked and pushed himself off the couch.
"Big brother, do not mind Damien. You know he is a fool at twenty four"
Damian snapped and stepped toward him. "What did you just call me?"
Leonid lifted his chin, completely unbothered.
"Oh, you think I will be scared of you? That is bold"
The two glared at each other, tension crackling between them.
Alina ignored them and walked over to Nikolai.
"Hey. I know you did not kill Alexei because I trust you. Just ignore Damien"
Nikolai looked at her for a long moment.
"Oh please, do not trust me," he said quietly. "You know nothing about me. You might get disappointed in the end"
He gently tapped her shoulder and walked past her, leaving the living room in silence.
Alina stood there, watching him go.
•••
AT NIKOLAI'S MANOR
The door creaked open and Nikolai walked in.
The manor was quiet in that eerie, unnatural way and the fire in the hearth crackled softly.
Anya was seated on the couch.
In her hands was Nikolai’s black book.
Its leather cover was cold and smooth beneath her fingers, the pages yellowed with age, filled from top to bottom with names… hundreds of them… written in neat, merciless ink.
Some had dates.
Some had places.
Some had strange, disturbing symbols beside them.
It wasn't a diary but rather a record.
A record of the people Nikolai had killed including those that bullied her.
Her eyes widened as she slowly turned another page, her fingers trembling.
"So many…" she whispered.
The door clicked shut behind him.
Anya gasped and turned sharply.
Nikolai was standing there, watching her.
She was still holding the book when their eyes met.
For a moment, neither of them moved.
The fire popped loudly as her heart slammed against her ribs.
"How… how old are you?" she blurted out, her voice shaking as she held up the book. "There are names here from over a hundred years ago…"
Nikolai did not answer.
He walked toward her, his gaze never left her face and Anya swallowed hard.
"I know you're not human, but this…" She gestured helplessly to the book. "This is centuries of blood"
He stopped in front of her.
"You should not be touching that"
Nikolai didn't even reach for the book. He simply stood there, watching the color drain from her face as she processed the dates she had seen... dates that went back long before her great-grandparents were even born.
"I stopped counting after two hundred years, little doll," he said, his voice as cold and steady as a tombstone. "Numbers become a burden when you realize you will outlive everything you touch"
Anya’s hands shook so violently the book nearly slipped from her grasp. "Two... hundred?"
"Closer to three," he corrected, "I have seen empires rise and crumble into dust. I have watched cities burn and forests grow over their remains. And through all of it, the one thing that never changes... is the taste of human fear"
Anya felt the room spin. The book in her hands suddenly felt as heavy as a mountain, its pages carrying the weight of centuries she couldn't even fathom.
She looked at his face... his smooth, flawless skin, the sharp structure of his jaw, and those eyes that held the depth of a thousand storms.
"Closer to three hundred..." she repeated, her voice barely a breath. "That’s impossible. It’s physically impossible"
She looked back at the book, then at him, her shock turning into a frantic sort of disbelief.
"If you're that age right now... then how old are your parents? Or Alina? She literally looks like a teenager! You all... you all look so young!"
She stood up, her legs feeling like jelly, forcing her to lean against the table for support. The reality of what she was entangled with was finally sinking in.
Nikolai tilted his head, a small, ghost of a smirk playing on his lips.
"I am immortal, Anya," he said. "Time does not touch us the way it withers you. To the human world, to the records in the university and the IDs, I am twenty"
Anya opened her mouth to speak, a thousand more questions bubbling in her throat... how? why? but the sharp ping of her phone cut through the heavy silence of the manor.
Her heart skipped a beat. With trembling fingers, she pulled the device from her pocket. The screen lit up her pale face, revealing a new message.
She knows the sender already.
Will be seeing you in a few hours, dear niece. I hope you've been a good girl.
The blood drained from Anya’s face instantly. A violent shiver racked her small frame, and the air in the room suddenly felt like ice. The phantom sensation of his hands, the memories of the dark cellar in Canada, and the reason she had fled across the ocean came crashing back.
She didn't reply, she couldn't. With a frantic motion, she held down the power button until the screen went pitch black, then shoved the phone into her jeans as if it were a burning coal.
Nikolai’s eyes narrowed, tracking every flinch, every drop of sweat that beaded on her forehead. He saw the way her pupils dilated with a primal, human terror that was different from the fear she felt for him. .
He chose to say nothing, but his gaze lingered on her pocket.