Chapter 5

"Where do you think you're going?!" I wanted to scream after him, but it was too late—the retribution already in flight couldn't be stopped.

With the briefcase raised over my head, I crashed into the trio and… hit my boss over the head. Or, to put it more simply, I hit Voronov in the back of the head with the decanter.

Honest to God, it wasn't on purpose! I wanted to save him! But even if someone had asked me to pull off that running maneuver again, I doubt I could have managed a more perfect hit the second time.

Oh, my God! What had I done?!

Voronov staggered but stayed on his feet. He slowly looked around and blinked in surprise…

"Rooster, is that you?" he breathed softly, then closed his blue eyes… and dropped like a stone, face-first into the snow.

Well, there. I'd finally patted my boss on the head, just as I'd recently dreamed of doing.

The briefcase slipped from my weakened fingers and landed at my feet. The blood drained from my cheeks, which had been burning with excitement, and froze in my veins. After everything that had happened, I was ready to pass out and collapse if a man's grumbling voice hadn't come from beside me and brought me to my senses:

"What are you staring at? Turn him over, quick, or he'll suffocate!"

"Oh, my God… What? Did I kill him?!"

"Hmm. Most likely!"

"And what happens now?"

"You'll be held responsible for the crime, that's what!"

The shaggy little man bent over the injured man and grabbed him by the shoulders, and I helped him turn Voronov onto his back. I came to my senses when I noticed how intently the man was brushing snow from my boss's face and neck. As if he meant to get at his throat…

"Stop!" I grabbed the stranger's arm and turned him toward me. "You're the killer! I saw everything! You had a knife, and you were going to kill him!"

"Easy there, citizen! Don't shout!" The accusations didn't frighten him. "Who was I going to kill?"

"Andrey Igorevich, of course! Don't play dumb!"

"Voronov?" The shaggy man, of indeterminate age, looked surprised and snorted unhappily. "Why would I want to do that? And keep your voice down," he grumbled angrily. "I asked you nicely!"

"Aha! See? You even know the victim's last name! And I am not going to keep quiet! Because you're a killer! As for why, you know that better than I do!"

The little man clearly knew a great deal, but he didn't even think of taking offense. Instead, he pulled a uniform cap onto his head (where had he gotten it from?), slipped a hand inside his coat, and suddenly flashed an ID in front of my face. It must have been very important, judging by the serious expression with which he shoved it under my nose and the nimble fingers with which he tucked it back into his pocket.

"Sergeant Leshenko! Thirteenth Police Precinct, Lesnoy District! For your information, citizen Rooster, my partner and I are here on official business! We were assigned to a secret investigation—secret!—at your boss's personal request. And I intend not to commit a crime but to prevent one! So, Daria, you're very much mistaken about me. And you're shouting and threatening to blow our cover!"

"Me?" I breathed, stunned. "You know me, too?"

"Of course!" Leshenko nodded calmly. "I've read your personnel file. It's part of my job!"

"So… you weren't going to kill him? Not at all?" I was completely flustered. "Then what about the knife in your hand? I saw it!"

Snow was blowing over the lamps positioned at the corners of the parking lot, and the lighting in the shadows beneath the tall firs left much to be desired. It was hard to say how old Leshenko was, but the sergeant unexpectedly had kind eyes. You looked into them and immediately understood: this was a man you could trust.

"It was a radio, citizen. I've been watching Sezam's building for a long time and using it to contact my superiors. Today I discovered that a hitman had gone hunting for your boss…"

"What?!" I gasped.

"Unfortunately!" he confirmed. "I'm afraid his enemies have resorted to extreme measures! I was trying to warn him! And then you came out of nowhere and charged at him with your briefcase! Were there any Furies in your family tree? The ones with brooms? I wouldn't be surprised. So what am I supposed to do now?"

I had no idea what to do, so I turned to my boss in a panic. I took off my gloves and shoved them into my pocket, then grabbed Voronov by the chest and shook him. I lightly patted his cheeks with both hands.

"Andrey Igorevich! Sweetheart, wake up! I didn't mean to, do you hear me? I didn't mean to hurt you! Please, open your eyes! I can't go to prison, I have children! Three of them, do you understand? Rita, Stepa, and Sonia! Andrey Igorevich…"

Voronov lay there, as white as the snow falling onto him, dark-haired and astonishingly handsome in that frozen moment. He showed absolutely no sign of life. None. At. All!

I gasped and clutched my heart.

"Oh, citizen sergeant, I think I killed him! What a disaster!"

"Don't give up yet!" The sergeant bent down and patted Voronov's cheek too. He pressed an ear to the man's chest and listened to his heartbeat.

"Maybe I should give him mouth-to-mouth?" he suggested unexpectedly, pinching Voronov's nose and letting go. He looked at me hopefully. "Maybe it'll work?"

"Why me?"

I turned toward the representative of the law, but he had already stepped back and was briskly adjusting his cap.

"Because!" he answered authoritatively. "He's your boss—or mine, Rooster? And besides, you're the one who disabled him, so you're the one who saves him!"

All right. Me. Fine.

I was scared to death, but there was nothing else to do. The sergeant was right: I'd made the mess myself, so I was responsible. I just had to stop thinking about how this looked like a kiss—the first one I'd had in forever—and everything would be fine!

I breathed in the freezing air, bent down, and pressed my lips to Voronov's cool mouth.

"Pinch his nose!" Leshenko ordered, taking charge of the operation.

I obediently pinched the goblin's nostrils and breathed into him.

"Let go!"

I let go.

"Pull away and try again!"

I pulled back, filled my lungs, and pressed my lips to his again, this time more boldly.

"Breathe harder!"

How?

"Mmm-hmm," I hummed in reply.

"Hey, Rooster! What are you doing over there? I didn't ask you to kiss him! You forgot to pinch his nostrils!"

His lips moved. Beneath mine, Voronov's lips suddenly twitched and warmed. I pulled back, felt his breath against me, and wiped the tears from my eyes. This time, I kissed my boss on the cheek out of sheer joy.

"He's alive… Alive! Hooray, citizen sergeant!" Without thinking about what I was doing, I threw my arms around Leshenko's neck. "I didn't kill him! See? He's alive!"

I let go of the sergeant and hurried back to Voronov.

"We need an ambulance right away! Andrey Igorevich, can you hear me?" I asked hopefully, but he clearly couldn't hear me. "He needs to go to the hospital, immediately! Ah…"

At that moment, somewhere out on the street behind the parking lot, I heard the now-familiar cat's shriek, the screech of emergency braking, the dull impact of cars colliding, and right after it the clatter of broken glass and a loud blaring horn.