Contents

Prologue

The blood is rushing in his ears. His vision is blurred and flashes. But yet he finds her. There she is, standing in front of him, smiling tenderly. Saintly. She is illuminated by an inner radiance, an unearthly light seems to flow from her divine red hair. She looks only at him. For the first time in so many years, she looks only at him, and at no-one else.

She is dressed in white, like angels on icons. Behind her, he sees flickering pearl-white wings fluttering in the air. She opens her arms to embrace him and hug him to her chest. There are terrible wounds on her palms. She had suffered so much, his poor girl. His only love. His eternal love, for which he would do anything. For her he would kill, betray and destroy anything and anyone. She was his bliss.

She calls him and he heads to her, bursting into tears. Now he knows what happiness feels like. His love has embraced him. He goes to her, seeing nothing but her. He has found her and he would never let her go. She has embraced him and loved him. Tears roll from his eyes but he does not feel them.

One step, one more step. That’s how those who reach the gates of heaven feel, he knows for sure. He ascends to her. His body feels light as air. He shines in the light coming from her.

Out of the corner of his eye, he notices something that could not be real. The world around him freezes like an ice block. Everything around is grinning and laughing at him. He turns his head and sees blood. Blood on the bedsheets. Almost losing consciousness, he sees bloodstains spreading, flooding everything around with an unstoppable endless crimson stream. He hears a crash and the sound of thunder. It was pieces of his body falling into hell. He is falling apart, revealing his immortal soul.

Brute!

A roar of pain escapes from his throat. His heaven bursts into flames of Gehenna, and he burns alive in them. He feels his hopes burning in the flames. His whole life burns. His blood boils and evaporates, leaving only bubbling stinking acid behind.

Fallen!

He looks at her and sees signs of decay on her face. The decomposition peels the skin off her darkened skull. Her eyes burn with a devilish light. She has betrayed him. She lied to him.

Harlot!

His hands shake feverishly. The hot air cannot get past his throat, causing him to choke. A red veil covers his eyes. The gun in his hand dances, bursting with life. But it’s all right, she is close enough. He will not miss.

He sees the horror on her face, and this horror spreads over his broken heart like molasses.

He pulls the trigger.

Chapter 1

“Hermes” was uncommonly crowded today. Lera virtually hopped into the busy office and beamed at everyone.

“Ciao tutti!” she blurted out, searching for a free hook on the coat rack.

“Hola!” Lena was the first to respond.

“Grüß!” The elfish Tasia replied after her.

“Hi!” miniature snub-nosed Alissa waved her hand.

Greetings in different languages came from all directions. Lera shook off the snow from her shoulders and tried to dust it out of her hair. Her mood was great. You bet it was! Today it was the last working day of the year and, let’s face it, it wasn’t really much of a working day.

Even half an hour before the start of the working day, it was impossible to find sufficient space to as much as drop an apple. Frankly, their work as simultaneous interpreters is done not in the office, but rather while travelling. And, generally speaking, freelance staff do written translations right from home. Therefore, usually, “simultos” appear in the office only for a short period of time, just to sign documents.

Well, sometimes Vasilisa can be found here, with her Greek, which is a very refined language but not very popular. Or Karina, who specializes in North Germanic languages could be here. Lera, on the other hand, rarely visited the office as she works with Romanesque languages. She simply never had enough time.

In general, two tables were usually more than enough for the entire staff. However, today, the stars aligned in such a way that almost every employee was gathered in the office. After all, with the end of the year approaching and the long weekend coming up, it was time to extend the fixed-term contracts. So, Irina Konstantinovna gathered everyone together in one day to, as they say, kill all birds with one stone.

“Salut!” their regular sylph, Sveta, exclaimed, a little out of breath.

Sveta’s cheeks, chilled by the frost, turned rosy, giving her a fleeting resemblance to Degas’ delicate dancers. The girl unwound her huge scarf and, standing shoulder to shoulder with Lera, carefully inspected the hanger filled with jackets, coats, and fur coats. The December day had turned out to be cold and the lack of a proper wardrobe had suddenly become very noticeable.

“Impossible!” Sveta said thoughtfully.

“Sono d’accordo!” Lera replied gloomily, and the girls turned and walked harmoniously towards the “changing room”.

The “changing room” was a separate tiny chamber that housed a collection of formal wear, evening gowns, cosmetics, and hair styling products. At the dawn of Hermes’s existence, the boss ordered the decoration team to fence off and equip a dressing room. She motivated this decision by saying that her employees should always be ready to perform any job in an any event dressed in an appropriate fashion.

The girls giggled at the idea. Lera could not recall a single instance of anyone ever getting ready for a business meeting in the office. However, Irina Konstantinovna was adamant about not expanding other areas at the expense of the “changing room”.

Despite this, no one objected, as if the employees were ashamed to take dresses without permission, it was still a privilege for the girls to prepare themselves here for a date. As a result, the supply of cosmetics was gradually dwindling, which only reinforced Irina’s belief in her decision.

Lera squeezed into the “changing room” and hung her coat on the hangers, carefully pushing aside the silk dress next to it to avoid getting the expensive fabric wet from the melting snow. The Sylph glided in after her and also hung her coat. The ephemeral Sveta had an amazing quality — she didn’t make the tiny “changing room” feel any smaller with her presence.

“How are you?” Sveta asked with a smile.

“Fine, thanks! What about you? Do you have any plans for the holydays?” Lera replied.

“Oh, yes! I’m going to the countryside, to a cabin in the woods. I’ll wrap myself in a warm scarf and sit by the fire and just be quiet for a whole week!”

“Isn’t that boring?” Lera smiled.

“Bof! It’s better to get bored than get myself into the same thing that I had last time! I’m deliberately going to get as far as possible to be definitely out of cellphone range. You know, Irina Konstantinovna would find anyone of us with satellites from space if there was even the slightest chance.”

“You are probably right,” Lera drawled.

Sveta’s indignation was understandable. Last year, during the New Year weekend, their boss dragged her out of a quiet vacation with her husband in Marseille for some work trip to Normandy. Sveta caught a terrible cold there, and then spent two weeks in bed suffering with the flu.

Of course, Irina Konstantinovna then categorically declared that it was Sveta’s own fault, because she should have dressed more warmly. Sveta in her turn objected, quite reasonably, saying that she had clothes only for the weather that she had actually expected. They didn’t agree, the boss was unshakable, but she still paid Sveta a more than enough fee to demonstrate that the company was not going to shirk its responsibility.

“And what about you? Are you going anywhere?”

Lera smiled dreamily and said, “Yes, I’m leaving tomorrow.”

Sveta opened her mouth to say something else, but then they heard the sound of heels clicking in the hallway.

“That’s how fate knocks on the door!” Lera said, and the two girls burst into laughter.

It was easy to recognize the boss — even her walk was somehow unmistakable. It was time for them to leave the “changing room” and wait near the boss’ office so they wouldn’t miss their turn to sign the contract. For some reason Irina Konstantinovna didn’t hand out copies of contracts for the staff to sign at their own workplaces, but called them in her room individually. Every year.

Sveta was the first to leave. Lera checked herself in the mirror and saw a red-haired, wide-eyed version of herself staring back at her with bright turquoise eyes. After a long ride on the Moscow subway, Lera felt quite disheveled, curly red hair sticking out in all directions, and her beige outfit made her look like a lit matchstick. Smoothing her hair while walking, she hurried to the common area.

“Lera, here is… for you… again…” Lena said from the corner of the office.

The girl was holding a small box in her hand. Lera sighed and walked towards her. The other girls around began to chat with interest:

“Again?”

“Who is it anyway?”

“Maybe pretty-Marat?”

“Nah, he wouldn’t be shy.”

“Then Kostya, maybe?”

“Which Kostya?”

“Yeah, the driver of Irina Konstantinovna…”

“It doesn’t match. He’s only been working here for six months, and Lera’s been receiving gifts for more than a year…”

Lera ignored the usual banter. With a soft, tired sigh, she took the box, untied the ribbon and looked inside. At the bottom was a little velvet case evidently brought from a jewellery store. Lera froze.

Karina asked impatiently, “What’s there?”

Lera shuddered, but she did not take her eyes off the case. Jewellery? Well, this was too much! At first, she was even pleased with those presents. She and her colleagues wondered who could be so shyly courting her.

Lera even tried to catch the glances of her male colleagues, but they answered her with polite curiosity. None of them looked away shyly or blushed. Lera quickly became convinced that the secret admirer was not a colleague, which didn’t bring her any closer to understanding who it could be.

She didn’t really get along with men. A couple of male friends who tried to date her somehow faded away. This was also the same at university. A few attempts at dating, which never worked out. Lera had never had a serious boyfriend, or even an unserious one. It was like she was in a bubble, where only women seemed to be allowed. The thought of a woman sending those gifts made Lera uncomfortable. That would have been too much.

Basically, the list of suspects was very short and consisted of exactly zero people. For a while, Lera was suspicious, but then she just got tired of worrying about it. The stalker didn’t show himself in any other way, except for those small, meaningless gifts. Lera gave up and simply left the flowers on her desk or took them home. She also treated her coworkers to sweets that appeared out of nowhere.

But this!.. Lera pulled out a velvet case and looked at her colleagues with a somewhat anxious expression. The girls fell silent and responded to her with wary glances.

“It looks like Romeo is taking things to the next level,” Alissa drawled.

Lera stammered, “Girls, I don’t know what to do with this… I just can’t take it…”

Tasia said darkly, “Open it. Maybe there’s just a penny-worth pendant inside.”

Please, not the ring! Lera swallowed hard. She had a bad feeling about it. She didn’t want to open the case, but Tasia was right. If it was just some small item that was being pushed at the jewellery shop as the change or some free gift, then that would be fine. It would be no worse than a box of chocolates, maybe even cheaper. However, such trinkets are usually packed in plastic bags, not cases. But she could hope, right?

Finally, Lera snapped open the lid and gasped. The girls stood up and stared inside. On a cushion of dark blue velvet lay earrings, shaped like bird wings or laurel branches. The noble gleam of reddish gold was barely visible behind the sparkle of countless definitely non-glass stones. Lera shut the case with a snap and threw it onto the table, as if it had stung her. The girls watched Lera intently and in silence.

“Well, at least it’s not a ring,” Tasia said almost plaintively.

“If it were a ring, it would be a good time to be scared,” Sveta agreed.

“And now? Isn’t it a good time?” Lera asked nervously, not addressing anyone in particular. “These earrings are worth more than my monthly salary! No one makes such expensive gifts without serious intentions!”

“I agree,” Karina nodded.

“Maybe you should go to the police?” Vasya said uncertainly.

To her own surprise, Lera liked the idea very much. The gift had, frankly, scared her. Suddenly, Irina Konstantinovna’s voice rang out from the door, stern and authoritative.

“What do you all have here? Why are you huddled together like kittens around a bowl of milk?”

The girls jumped in surprise and turned around. They really looked like naughty preschool kids. The boss, stood in the doorway. She was a stern, gray-haired skinny lady, dressed in her usual elegant outfit. Marat loomed behind her.

Without waiting for a response, Irina Konstantinovna marched into the room. Having adjusted her glasses on her nose she looked at the centre of the spontaneously formed circle where the ill-fated case lay. She didn’t share her employees’ reverence for jewellery gifts so she snapped the lid, then she blinked and chuckled after a barely noticeable astonished pause.

“And who is the lucky one?” the boss said after having managed to control herself.

All eyes instantly turned to Lera, unwittingly giving her away. Lera’s cheeks flushed treacherously. Like many redheads and pale-skinned people, she blushed incredibly easily.

“A rich admirer?” the boss asked a little more dryly. “Remember, Larina, if you go on maternity leave…”

“Irina Konstantinovna, I don’t know who this gift is from,” Lera said hastily, with fervour.

For some reason, Lera was very embarrassed because Irina Konstantinovna thought she was openly being given expensive gifts. The woman’s eyebrows rose in disbelief, and then she took a closer look at the girl’s concerned face, she chuckled again and drawled.

“Really? Well, well… Then, come on in, you’re the first to enter my office. We can talk about it along the way.”

The boss occupied the largest office space in the company — the meeting room. She hosted particularly demanding clients here to discuss business, having seated them exactly facing a wall densely covered with certificates and photos.

And in honesty, she had a lot to be proud of. Only Lera had brought Irina Konstantinovna seven copies of her language certificates and diplomas. Other girls, too, were also not limited to one language or one educational institution.

Along with the diplomas, Irina Konstantinovna also hung particularly successful photos of events where her “kids” had the honour to participate. Exactly like a grandmother, proud of the success of her grandchildren. Any accusations of sentimentality were dismissed by Irina Konstantinovna as nothing but dirty insinuations. Of course.

There were three Leras there. One in a formal suit — from some Terribly Important Business Negotiations, one in an evening gown — from the premiere of a film in Venice, and one in a fancy outfit — from a fashion show in Milan.

Lera was uncomfortable with this “showcase” where she and her colleagues were displayed as simple products. Many girls disapproved of this Glory Wall, but there was nothing they could do about it. Irina Konstantinovna was deaf and blind to requests to remove the photos and leave only the diplomas.

Their boss was completely devoid of mercy when it came to ways of increasing profit. By the way, Irina Konstantinovna unfailingly conducted the personnel selection process personally, and did it with such care and attention as if she were choosing not just translators but, at the very least, secret agents.

Staff seriously suspected that her preferences were not only based on the academic achievements and merits of candidates, but more than that on their external qualities and charisma. Even their sole male interpreter, turkophone-Marat, was a notably handsome guy. This is without even mentioning the attractiveness of the girls.

Naturally, the boss denied having such a biased attitude towards applicants, pointing out that not all employees looked like they were from the podium. Technically, it was true. Not all the girls were long-legged makaroni-models with a hungry look, but Irina Konstantinovna was still lying.

Lera, with her bright red curls turquoise eyes, struck customers on the spot. Alissa was so petite and feminine that everyone fussed over her like a delicate crystal vase. Sveta simply charmed everyone with her warm tenderness, and clients usually looked at her, rather than the contracts.

Inessa, full-blooded, was so all roundly beautiful that men hardly looked above her cleavage, but since she specialized in Arabic, clients — due to their national preferences — permanently salivated over her exceeded “thirty-three inches” and strictly kept “twenty-four”.

As soon as Inessa lowered her thick silver braids that played around her coccyx when she walked, they signed documents without looking, confusing Arabic script for Cyrillic when writing their own names. In general, Inessa’s non-standard appearance was absolutely appropriate, Irina Konstantinovna had her advantages here too.

Lera waved off annoying thoughts about Inessa’s admirers out of her head and plopped down in her usual spot opposite the boss. Irina Konstantinovna quickly rifled through a stack of employment contracts and handed Lera a pile of papers. The girl quickly scanned them and signed both copies. There wasn’t much to review.

“Well, now tell me more about your secret Santa”, Irina Konstantinovna said sternly, placing the contracts in a separate folder.

“Well… I don’t even know where to begin…” Lera hesitated.

“At the beginning!”

Lera jumped slightly at her sharp voice, but when she looked into the woman’s eyes, she saw genuine concern and worry in them. Overall, despite all her flaws, Irina Konstiantinovna took care of her employees like a mother hen.

“I often receive small gifts from someone at work. It came today”, Lera blurted out.

“And you have no idea who it is from?” The boss asked in disbelief.

Lera vigorously shook her head, making her red hair even more messy.

“What about a signature?” the boss pressed.

“Firstly, I thought it was one of my coworkers, but no one admitted to it. The packages were always delivered by a courier, according to the girls…”

“A courier? According the girls?” Irina Konstantinova’s eyes narrowed. “So, do you mean the presents have never been delivered to you personally?”

“Well… Y-yes…” Lera stammered.

She suddenly realized this simple fact too. True, for over a year and a half, the courier had never delivered gifts to her in person. All that while, the box had either magically appeared on her desk or been passed on by one of the employees.

“What about any notes?”

“There were always stickers on the boxes with my name printed on them. That’s all.”

“Hmm…” Irina Konstantinovna tapped her manicured fingers on the table. “How long has it been going on?” she asked almost without interest.

“For about a year and a half.”

The woman jumped up, “Anonymous, fabulously expensive gifts have been arriving for a year and half, and you aren’t surprised? Are you crazy? Russia isn’t a habitat for any Robin Hoods!”

“Until today, it has been just worthless things!” Lera interrupted her again, “Cheap flowers, I don’t know, a box of chocolates, a little key chain with an angel on it. Really, it’s never been anything so expensive!”

The woman slumped slightly in her chair and bit her lip. “Have you told anyone?” she asked more calmly.

“Yes,” said the girl sadly. “To my mom.”

“And?”

“She said, ‘Don’t worry about it! What’s the problem? They give, you take.’”

The boss chuckled dejectedly, rolling her eyes slightly. Leaning towards Lera, Irina Konstantinovna began to speak in an admonishing tone. “Normal men don’t send flowers without a note for a year. Courting openly for a year is something I can understand. There are some men who act like unbelievably stubborn screw-horned sheep. But doing it quietly? I don’t believe it. What if it’s some kind of maniac, have you considered that?”

“But no one kills for a box of chocolates.” Lera said spreading her hands.

“Actually, I don’t know. I didn’t communicate with maniacs much. But, please note, there isn’t merely a box of chocolates on the table right now!” Irina Konstantinovna pointed her finger at the door of the conference room. “Can you imagine how much these earrings cost?”

Lera shook her head and bit her lower lip. It felt like she was being scolded for something that wasn’t her fault.

“Red gold, diamonds, fluorite of the exact colour of your eyes’. I would say they are worth five thousand dollars.” Lera looked at her boss, hiccupping. And then Irina Konstantinovna nodded and said, “Maybe even more.”

Lera sat there, mouth open, not knowing what to say. She had only ever seen those sums in movies. The boss chewed her lips and casually asked, “What are you doing this weekend?”

Lera felt scared. This is it… Now she will offer some kind of work in such a way that it will be impossible to dodge… Poor Sveta’s fate has caught up with Lera right on the very edge of her vacation! Lera started babbling confusedly in fright:

“Irina Konstantinovna, I have plans! I very very much have plans! I can’t work!”

The woman suddenly laughed genuinely, and Lera paused. “Don’t worry about it!” The boss said with a smile. “That’s not why I’m asking. Are you going to leave the city, by any chance?”

“I am going to!” Lera blurted out. “Tomorrow! To a very distant place! The phone will not work there, it is in the middle of nowhere!”

The woman continued to look at her subordinate with amusement, then slammed her hand on the table and said sharply: “Great! Firstly, bring the box here, I will hide it in the safe. Then, sit in the office motionlessly until I let Marat go. He will escort you home. Thirdly… How will you get there, in your middle of nowhere?”

“B-by p-plane” Lera stuttered, pinned down by the commanding voice. “From Domodedovo.”

“That’s even better! It’s nice to realise that Russian airlines have developed to the point where planes from Domodedovo fly to the middle of nowhere.”

At these words, Lera flushed and looked away.

“So, I will ask Kostya to pick you up at home and meet you upon your return. Don’t argue!” The boss growled, raising her eyebrows when Lera tried to object. “He will not just take you to the airport, he will meet you at your apartment and take you back! Door-to-door! No arguments!”

Lera’s face fell.

“And finally, while you are in your ‘middle of nowhere,’ I will make a request to the security company. They must be keeping the CCTV recordings for a while. Can you roughly tell me when the other presents arrived?”

“Uh-huh” Lera replied meekly, apparently resigned to her fate.

“That’s good to be ‘uh-huh’. Here you are the paper, write the dates and approximate times. After you come back, we will watch the videos and, if we recognise your admirer, we can take him over his boll… humm… we’ll talk anyway… If not, we should go to the police.”

“To the police?!” Lera became nervous.

“Of course! It’s pointless to apply now anyway. The earrings will be taken, but policemen still won’t start moving until after the holidays. That’s right, Larina! Write down now!”

The boss thrust a piece of paper in front of the girl, got up abruptly, and went to call the next person over. Lera, meanwhile, buried her head in the blank paper and started writing…

Chapter 2

Lera was spinning around in front of the mirror, smiling at her reflection. Her blue-green eyes were shining with amusement today. The girl had already been dressed and was ready to go a long time ago, and while waiting for her escort, she enjoyed picking out a scarf to match her coat.

After all, Irina Konstantinovna’s idea of a voluntary-compulsory escort was a good one, although Lera initially still tried to protest. Hearing the combat mission “the beautiful lady is in danger” announced, Marat, as a true son of his nation, activated knight mode and joined forces with the boss to press Lera.

Upon hearing Lera’s confused objections, Marat threatened to ensure her compliance by force if necessary. Specifically, by immobilizing her with swaddling. He vowed to bring immediately his entire brood of brothers to protect his beloved colleague, one brother for guarding each of Lera’s limbs. At this point, Lera babbled even more desperate. When Marat, stern faced, reached for the phone to call for help, Lera realized it was pointless to resist. She gave in with a sigh. Marat smiled with satisfaction looking at Lera with his hazel eyes and put the phone down.

Ten minutes later, Lera realized that walking home with a tall, broad-shouldered, athletic guy supporting her gallantly on the icy sidewalk was much more enjoyable, calmer, and safer than hobbling home alone. Marat smiled and joked, but his bright tiger-coloured eyes carefully scanned the street from under his hair that fell on his forehead. Looking at him, Lera felt cheerful, and smiled. She hadn’t realised until that evening how much she had been putting her head down and hurrying to and from work.

The evening passed much more calmly for Lera than usual. Now the girl looked at the two packages of pills on the table in the hallway with hatred, and then still shoved them in her bag, along with the prescriptions.

Strong sedatives. Those that needed to be taken daily and those that were only needed in cases of breakdowns. She hated the sight, taste and smell of them. Lera shuddered each time at the clicking of the foil as she removed the pills.

Only half an hour ago, she had coped with nervous nausea that came every time she took these damned pills. Her therapist said that it happened to her because she had not yet accepted her illness, or come to terms with the fact that taking the drugs was a continual and strict necessity

Yes, she had not come to terms with it. She still did not accept it! Lera still didn’t believe that she was ill, even though everyone tried to convince her that she was mad. She was tired of proving her point to everyone and would just look like a monster when someone tried to have a heart-to-heart talk with her.

It felt like she was drowning in fear but still didn’t fully believe in her disease. She still didn’t, although no one else seemed to notice the things she told her mother and doctor about. No one listened to her. Sometimes she was tormented by doubt and had a pathetic tantrum. Especially after her periodic visits to the therapist, a kindly fellow looking like Santa who, with warmth in his voice, urged her to devote herself fully to the treatment.

In a few days everything would pass and she would find her inner strength again. Despite that, she took the pills because they helped her cope with persistent anxiety and fears. Lera was alone. Surrounded by all these therapists and relatives, these liars with caring faces, she was still alone. Alone, resisting them all and resisting her fear. Face to face with her terror.

Every time she felt nervous, they dragged her to the doctor again, and Lera had learned to hide her emotions behind a stone mask. She had learned to control her breathing, to calm the trembling in her hands by sheer willpower. This had worked. Visits to the doctor had been reduced to a minimum. However, it was all a lie, because the things that scared her had not disappeared.

Lera shook her head and said, “Don’t think about it!” No thoughts of illness today! She was going to Rome and wanted to enjoy her vacation. Oh, beautiful Rome! With these thoughts Lera spun around in the hallway, almost tripping over a suitcase that was lying by the door.

Almost packed, it had stood in the most prominent spot for a week, with its wide mouth agape as if with anticipation, it seemed to be waiting for Lera. All this time Lera had been seized by the very mood that appears when the tickets are playfully sticking out of the passport, and the vacation date is getting closer. In a fit of fashion excitement, she packed her suitcase several times, she put clothes in it and then picked at and reviewed everything inside, selecting carefully what to wear for the trip.

Just think! A vacation! A real vacation with travel, and not for work. No more meetings that made her brain burn and required long stretches of sleep to recover. No more business trips where she has to talk so much that she is silent for days afterwards.

She will relax and enjoy walks around the ancient city, exploring monuments and eating real pizza. On Lera’s left shoulder, the devil danced and provocatively tugged her earlobe, urging her to perform mischief.

In her excess of emotions, she