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"What is going on?" Harry whispered

Alexei handed him a piece of paper Harry took it over to the candle and looked down It ritten in Cyrillic; Harry didn’t protest This was not the time to pretend he could not read it

The lady will live if you cooperate She will be expensive Tell no one

Harry looked up "Hoe know it’s her? They don’t mention her by name"

Wordlessly, Alexei held out his hand Harry looked down It was a lock of hair Harry wanted to say that it ht not be hers, that there could be another woman with hair that color, that unbelievable shade of sun and butter, with the salet but more than a wave

But he knew

"Who wrote this?" he asked In Russian

Vladimir spoke first "We think-"

"You think?" Harry roared "You think? You had better start knowing, and da happens to her…"

"If anything happens to her," the prince cut in with icy precision, "I will cut out their throats myself There will be justice"

Harry turned to hi acid in his belly "I don’t want justice," he said, his voice low and flat with rage "I want her"

"And ill get her," Vladi "She will not come to harm"

"Who are you?" Harry demanded

"It does not matter"

"I think it does"

"I work also for the War Office," Vladied a little "Sometimes"

"Pardon me if you fail to capture ain, that hard, direct stare that had unnerved Harry back in the ballroo manservant he pretended to be

"I know Fitzwilliam," Vladimir said in a low voice