After closing, I counted out the few bills I had been tipped. It had been a dismal night. Jude walked over to the bar after locking the front door. He scoffed and shook his curly, gray head.
“You know, you'd have better luck if you smiled more."
I blinked up at him, “The tables were almost all Regenian Police. It was everything I could do to not spit in their drinks.”
Jude shrugged off my searing tone, “Bank in that fire, Miss Roux. You’ll have your chance.”
I met his dark eyes, his mouth curling up in a cruel imitation of a smile. Jude was the notorious zealot of town. It was common but hushed knowledge that he worked intimately with the Resistance, while serving the men he plotted against at his establishment. It made it easier for me to work there and was perhaps the reason why I had gotten the job. Heaven knew I wasn’t cut out for waitressing but Jude was aware of my involvement with the Cat and Resistance cell of Belnon.
“Clean up the kitchen before you leave tonight. I have some business so I’ll be seeing you, Georgie.”
I tucked the money into my apron pocket, “I won’t be met by any unexpected guests tonight, will I?”
“Why? Expecting any?” Jude winked slyly, flipping a fedora onto his head and whistling his way out the door.
Once alone, I traced the outline of my lips. It had taken me nearly the entire evening to calm down from the day’s events. What I had done in the town square had been stupid and impulsive. I wouldn’t be surprised if I heard from the Cat scolding me for drawing attention to myself.
However, the results of it would probably hearten her. Viktor had kissed me, soundly and out of the blue. He had feelings for me that could be manipulated to our means.
I groaned and grabbed a shot glass, pouring myself a swallow of schnapps. It burned away the guilt rising up in my throat. Stacking dirty glasses onto a tray, I swept into the kitchen.
Flicking on the overhead yellow lamp, the light showed no wolf dog waiting for me. Sighing with relief, I set the dishes on the square table.
A brusque knock sounded at the door.
I paused.
Certainly if the Police were here to arrest me as a suspected partisan they would not be so polite. A minute passed and I knew they wouldn’t be so patient either.
Another knock. Swallowing hard, I approached the door.820Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ9uvslejhSF
As I opened it, the frigid night breeze slinked in through the crack. A flurry of snow drifted through the air, the first of the season. A figure had its back to me but turned at the creak of the door hinges. My pulse hitched a beat as I spied Viktor in the faint light.
“Miss Roux,” he stepped forward, his breath misty and cheeks pink with cold, “I hope I am not disturbing you.”
I shook my head, resting a hand on the doorframe, “No. Can I help you, Sergeant?”
“It’s Lieutenant now, actually-“
“Congratulations.” I interjected, “What are you doing here?”
He relaxed as my politeness waned. He climbed the first step to the kitchen door, holding a lump under his coat, “Miss Roux, I wanted apologize for... earlier. I just wanted to keep you from making a mistake you would regret.”
“By kissing me? Without my permission?”
He colored a deep red, “I cannot tell you how sorry I am. I was out of line. I only hope you can forgive me,” he pulled out a bumpy linen bag from under his coat, “I bring a peace offering for the groceries you lost in the square.”
I took the bag from his outstretched hands. There was considerably more in it than I had bought that afternoon. I wasn’t in the habit of taking charity from anyone, much less a Berchten soldier. However, the Cat’s ominous encouragement to profit from Viktor’s feelings for me rang in my head. I broke into a weak smile.
“This is very kind of you,” I choked out of a constricting throat, stunned by what I was doing, “Won’t you come in?”
Shock flitted over his face but was quietly replaced with suspicion. Fearing I wasn’t convincing enough, I stepped away from the threshold and opened the door wider, “May I offer you a drink on the house in return? On a night like this, I’m sure you would appreciate it.”
He took a tentative step, his gaze darting inside the warmly lit room. I wondered if he was expecting some kind of trap. I winced, knowing the trap I was setting wasn’t so obvious.
“Thank you, Miss Roux. I’ll come in for a moment, if only to get out of the snow.”
Once inside, my mouth went dry. Certainly I wasn’t going to sleep with the man but I didn’t know the first thing about manipulating one. I was much too blunt for this sort of work.
I set the bag on the table and excused myself to fetch us glasses and a bottle. Viktor was stoking the fire in the stove when I brought him a shot. He held his cap in his hand, his hair damp from melting snow.
“What shall we drink to?” I asked calmly, “War’s end? Peace?”
Viktor scoffed, “The war may end, Miss Roux, but don’t deceive yourself that any of us will find peace.”
Struck speechless, in my heart I knew he was right. I would never forget Maier’s excitement over getting to see his Greta again. Viktor threw back his drink without a toast, his eyes avoiding mine. I drank silently.
“Don’t you want to see what I brought you?” He motioned to the bag on the table.
I smiled softly and walked over to the table. Several cans of vegetables, canned ham, beef loaf, biscuits and even bullion packets. My stomach growled and I remembered I had gone without supper.
“Oh and these are for Edgar,” Viktor produced a couple chocolate bars from his pocket and tossed to me from across the table, “With my compliments.”
He poured himself another drink. I wondered if he realized he was only making my job easier by doing so. I tapped a finger on a can of ham.
“Are you hungry?”
His eyes shot up to my face, “What?”
“I never ate. There are a couple eggs I brought from our chickens at home, I could make us something,” I shrugged, biting my lower lip and widening my eyes.
Viktor eyed me steadily before unbuttoning his coat. He slipped the sleeves from his arms as he stripped down to his linen undershirt and suspenders, “I’ll help.”
I cut the silence with the radio, scanning the frequency till I picked up a gay little tune. Stirring the eggs with some water, I slicked a pan with fat. Viktor broke open the can of ham.
“So I hear the partisans responsible for the train are to be shot,” I commented dryly, cracking an egg.
Viktor didn’t look up at me, “Punishment will be given accordingly to the guilty parties.”
“What an unromantic and Berchten way to say it, Lieutenant. If they are to be shot at dawn, say it with gusto!” I couldn’t help adding, my tone twisting to sarcasm. I grimaced. I knew I was too blunt to perform a proper seduction.
“Haas was the son of a pig farmer from the Egova region. He refused to eat this stuff. I think it’s pretty good,” Viktor grunted, “And yes, they are to be shot at dawn.”
I tucked the tidbit of information away and casually cracked another egg, “Who was Haas?”
“One of the boys I trained with, he was killed at Drumon,” he replied succinctly, licking the juice from his fingers.
I stiffened at the mention of that place. Striking a match, I lit the gas eye on the stove and set the pan on it. Glancing over my shoulder, I felt his eyes on me before I saw them. He quickly peered back down at the wooden cutting board as he sliced up the ham.
“Drumon,” he ventured, "Did you know someone who fought-“
“My brother.” I interrupted.
“Was he-“
“Yes, he was.”
Viktor’s knife scraped the board, “War is hell.”
“That’s what they keep saying,” I snorted, “What did you do at home?”
“I had just graduated from school when I volunteered. Two whole years ago.”
“Was that when you got married?”
He barked out a laugh in surprise, “How did you know that?”
“Edgar stole your picture and when I gave it to Maier to return to you, he told me,” I explained, the eggs sizzling as I poured them onto the pan, “Well was it?”
“Marthe was young and I was too. We went to school together but I don’t believe we had ever spoken more than a few sentences to each other before we started dating two weeks before I left. We decided we were in love and wanted to be married. And now, she’s decided she doesn’t want to be married to me anymore.”
“And you? Do you want to be married to her?” I asked, bringing the empty egg bowl back to the table.
I set it down, standing a hand’s breadth from him. He had not realized I was so close. He straightened his posture, pupils dilating as he looked down at me. He wet his lips, eyes darting across my face as my pulse sped up.
"Marthe is a stranger to me now. Two years married and I have been home for leave two times. Was there ever anyone for you?”
Quieting the leap in my pulse at his nearness, I drew back towards the stove, “No, there was always the farm to consider. Sid went to school up north and father didn’t know the first thing about crops or livestock. We lost it all to his drinking and cards, our family fields, flocks. I fought for our land tooth and nail. My blood is in this earth.”
“I fear mine might come to be as well.”
“And what if it doesn’t?” I turned towards him as I stirred the eggs out of the way. He brought the ham over and put it onto the pan to cook, “What will you do?”
“Become what my father always hoped I’d be, an honest clockmaker like him. But I doubt that will be the case.”
“Why?”
He leveled me with a gaze heavy from what he had witnessed, “Because I am going to die in this war. I’ve always known it.”
I shuddered, recalling my brother’s letters from the front. Sid had said the same thing many times and his premonition had come true. Thinking of this enemy soldier being shot or blown to pieces on the battlefield was just as jarring.
With a lurch in my gut, I realized I didn’t want Viktor to die. I wanted him to live. His eyes searched my face as I lifted a hand, resting it against his cheek. He eased his face into my palm.
“Don’t say things like that. They can’t take all of you.”
As the pan sizzled next to us, it was me who kissed him without warning this time. He reciprocated, his solid form melting into mine as he pulled me close. The kiss deepened and the Cat’s words returned to me unbidden.
I’m sure he would not make it difficult to get what you want if you give him what he wants.
“I can’t," I gasped, lightly pushing him away.
Without knowing what I meant by it, he retreated and nodded in agreement. His labored breathing evened. He let me loose and I was left standing cold despite the heat from the stove.
“I understand,” he swallowed and made his way to the table. He drew his arms into his coat quietly, “I believe it would be wise if I bid you good night, Miss Roux.” He gripped his hat as he walked towards the door.
“Georgiana.” I replied in a hushed tone. He looked at me quizzically, “Call me Georgiana when we speak, Viktor."
Viktor pursed his lips and tipped his hat to me before disappearing out into the night. Not willing to waste the food, I ate what I could and bundled the rest into the linen bag Viktor had left.
The snow was falling heavily. A downy blanket covered the dirt road home. I carried an electric torch with me these nights, having received permission from Gruber to break curfew due to my job. Holding the light directly to the ground in accordance with the blackout laws, I spied another pair of boot prints in the snow. Someone else had been on this road.
Wind brushed a glittering mist of frost before me as I entered the farmyard of my home. I was fumbling for my key when a hulking figure shoved me against the wall of the farmhouse, the chickens muttering inside in annoyance.
Heart thudding, I winced into the alcohol soaked breath of Maxim Gruber.
“Mistress, you are coming home late. There is no need to fuss, I only wished to speak with you," he slurred.
I struggled against him, “Let me go-“
“I know what you have been up to, this afternoon it became very clear to me.”
I froze, my head pounding with adrenaline. My brain frantically shuffled through excuses and lies concerning my involvement with the Resistance. They had never told me what to do in this case but I could guess the Cat’s suggestion. Death before betrayal.
Gruber leaned forward and touched his brow to mine. He was very drunk. I wondered if he even realized what he was doing, “What makes you think you are so much better than me?”
Despite trembling, I summoned one last surge of gumption, “Because you are Berchten-“
“You see, that’s the wrong answer,” he replied in a low growl, “Because Viktor is Berchten as well. I know where you have been tonight. Don’t tell me it wasn’t with him.”
My mouth went dry, thoughts spinning. So this wasn’t about me and the Resistance. Gruber was still sore about me not wanting to bed down with him for the winter. I almost laughed at the ridiculousness of it but his grip on my arms tightened vicelike.
“You are hurting me.”
He snagged my jaw between his thick fingers, “So high and mighty but you are no better than those other girls in the village, pimping themselves out for packs of gum and cigarettes.” He forced his liquor sodden mouth to mine.
Before I could fight back, there was a loud thunk. Gruber jolted then fell hard into the snow. Gasping, I lifted the electric torch into the darkness. I gaped at what I saw.
A man with sunken cheeks and a thick layer of scruff brandished a shovel. His Regenian uniform was in tatters and hands wrapped in cloth as makeshift mittens. I met his sharp, gray eyes.
“Father?”
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