Killing Eve: Bloodline (13)

The thirteenth episode of a new Killing Eve adventure, published exclusively on Substack

            At eleven pm, Nikolai Dominik calls a meeting in the ground-floor drawing room. As Eve walks in with Villanelle, she sees Johnny seated in an armchair, his expression blank, and Nikolai standing with one hand on the mantelpiece, staring distractedly into the empty fireplace. Sergei Stepanenko, whom she hasn't seen for twenty-four hours, is occupying a second armchair. As the two women cross the floor towards an unoccupied chaise longue he stands, and delivers the ghost of a bow.

            'Has anyone seen Valentin?' Nikolai asks. He looks as if he is staying awake by the force of will-power alone.

            'He's still in bed,' Sergei says. 'Pavel took him up some breakfast.'

            'I don't want him leaving the house.' Nikolai turns away from the fireplace and glares at Eve and Villanelle, who are taking their places on the chaise longue. It's upholstered in slippery damask, and Eve wriggles uncomfortably.

            'About last night,' Nikolai says. 'I'm confident that we've managed to contain things for now, but it's not going to end there. There will be further attempts.'

            'Do you know who those men were?' Eve asks.

            'We have a pretty good idea,' Johnny says.

            'Russian government people,' Nikolai says. 'Tikhomirov's people.'

            'So can you tell us what they wanted with Valentin?' Villanelle asks. She folds her arms, clearly exasperated at being kept in the dark. Eve darts a warning glance at her but Villanelle doesn't attempt to hide her annoyance. Instead, she glares at Sergei, who smiles back uneasily, his spectacles gleaming palely in the subdued light.

            Johnny starts to reply to Villanelle, but at that moment the doorbell sounds in the adjacent front hall. Dimitri hurries in and whispers to Nikolai, who nods. 'Someone for you,' he says to Johnny.

            Johnny looks surprised. He stands, and follows Dimitri into the hall. There's the sound of muted conversation, then Johnny re-appears with a poised, slender figure who marches confidently into the room, ignores Eve, Villanelle and Sergei, and holds out her hand to Nikolai. 'Hello,' she says. 'We haven't met. I'm Balice St Clair.'

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           Eve stares as Balice exchanges a few words with Nikolai, then turns to Johnny, who for once appears at a loss for words. 'How have you been?' Balice asks him. 'I did enjoy meeting your delightful Bulgarian friend, so thank you for arranging that. But please, don't think that our encounter gives you any kind of leverage. My private life is my own, and I have nothing whatever to hide.' She looks around the room, dispensing smiles as if she's at a cocktail party. 'Sergei Stepanenko, how nice. I've got quite a substantial file on you, so it's good to finally meet in person. And Oxana.' She walks over and gently trails her fingers across Villanelle's face. 'How are you, sweetie?'

            Villanelle's expression doesn't alter. 'I'm fine, Balice. How are you?'

            The bitch ignores me, needless to say. She acts as if I simply wasn't there, and it's all I can do not to leap at her, to head-butt that elegant nose into a smashed mess, and claw her pretty face open. The nerve of the woman. The sheer fucking effrontery of her. A tiny, disconnected part of me admires her brazenness, but most of me hates her with an intensity of which I've never known I'm capable. She slept with Oxana. She held her and was held by her. She... Oh God, I can't go there. I just can't.

            It's not so much the actual sex, although that's unbearable, it's the closeness. It's the kissing that preceded the sex. It's that she knows Oxana's body, Oxana's taste and Oxana's smell, and will always know them. It's that she's breathed Oxana's breath, seen Oxana wake and stretch and smile that vague, sleepy Oxana smile. It's that those things are now imprinted on her, on Balice, and she wants them again. She has the air of one waiting patiently - but not infinitely patiently - to reconnect. I want to kill her and erase those memories forever. I mean it. I want to kill her.

            'Eve!' Villanelle says, her eyes concerned. 'Eve.'

            Eve blinks. 'Sorry. I just felt a bit, um... faint.'

            Sergei appears at her side, holding a tumbler of water. Eve sits up, feels herself sliding on the slippery damask, and reaches for Villanelle's arm, just as Villanelle places her hand firmly on Eve's thigh. For several heartbeats they stay like that, holding each other. Eve reaches for the water, thanks Sergei, and sips.

            'Is she still with us?' Balice asks Villanelle, who ignores her, and gives Eve's thigh an invisible squeeze.

            'I'm sorry,' says Nikolai, crossing his legs and leaning back in his armchair with barely concealed irritation. 'But I have absolutely no idea who you are, Miss St Clair, or what's going on.'

            'It's Mrs St Clair,' Balice says, and Eve audibly sniggers. 'Let me explain. I'm a British intelligence officer - quite a senior one - and Mr Fernandes, as I'm sure you know, works for an organisation called Dvenadsat, the Twelve. He, and they, are running an operation called Sanctify, whose broad purpose is to ensure the success of Anna Volkonskaya in the upcoming Russian elections. The sitting president, Vadim Tikhomirov, is naturally opposed to this idea, and will do all he can to thwart both Volkonskaya and the Twelve.'

            Balice looks around. She's still standing, and she has the absolute attention of the room. 'Last night, two GRU operatives, whose names are known to me, attempted to abduct Mr Dominik's son Valentin from the Poodlefaker nightclub. They were prevented by the timely actions of Miss Vorontsova. Yes, I know that there's a so-called 'official' version of events that tells a very different story, but I have the resources to establish the true facts, and I've done so. And let me say, here and now, that I'm very glad that Valentin Nikolayevich is safe. Because we're all on the same side here. I'm not betraying any national secrets by telling you that London would very much like to see Tikhomirov unseated, and if that means Volkonskaya taking his place, so be it. My enemy's enemy, and so on. So, Mr Nikolai. You have me and my organisation in your corner, as well as Mr Fernandes and the Twelve. But in the opposite corner you have The GRU's Second Directorate, their overseas operations and assassination arm, and that is a very considerable opponent.'

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            At this moment, Anastasia Dominik walks into the room, carrying the declawed cat. As Nikolai and Sergei stand, she stares confusedly at Balice. There's a moment's silence, and Nikolai introduces them.

            'Kak zovut koshku?' Balice asks, running a hand down the cat's back. ‘What’s his name?’

            'Mishka,' Anastasia says, peering at Balice's suit. She turns to Nikolai. 'Have you seen Valentin?'

            'Still in bed, I believe.'

            Anastasia nods. 'Well, if he comes down, tell him... tell him that lunch is on the table.'

            'I will.'

            Anastasia casts a last uncertain glance at the assembled company, and leaves.

            Balice watches her go. 'Where was I? Yes. I was saying that I am prepared to offer an alliance. Our interests here are parallel. But I must impose one condition: full disclosure.' She looks from Nikolai to Johnny. 'I must know the details of operation Sanctify. I must know why the GRU are so anxious to get their hands on Valentin. I must know everything that I don't already know.'

            Nikolai turns to Johnny, and then to Sergei. A series of nods passes between them. He glances at Villanelle and Eve.

            'Full disclosure,' Balice repeats. 'From everyone in this room. Oxana?'

            Villanelle stares back at her. Then she takes Eve's hand, and very deliberately slides her fingers between Eve's. Holding Balice’s gaze, she lifts the hand to her mouth, and brushes her lips across Eve’s knuckles. 'Fine by me.'

            Balice's expression hardens. 'And... Eve?'

            Eve's mouth twitches into the faintest of smiles. 'Whatever, Balice.'