"All of you are married or committed with the exception of me. To a Prakenskii." It came out an accusation. "How did that even happen? It's inexcusable."
Judith didn't say a word, which was just as well. Blythe knew she wasn't making any sense, throwing seemingly random comments out, but it all made sense to her. Viktor's brothers were probably in on the conspiracy. Judith parked in front of Blythe's house and they sat in silence just looking up at the two-story structure.
The house suited Blythe. It was too big for one person, but she didn't care. It was completely different from everyone else's and she liked it that way. It was all cool Mediterranean tile, thick walls and banks of inviting windows facing the forest. The views were incredible. The house was in a U-shape, giving her the courtyard she'd always dreamt of having. She'd wanted a houseful of children and a husband she adored. She thought she'd found that in Viktor.
A fresh flood of tears came and she leapt out and all but ran up the wide stairs to the wraparound verandah. The upper story had a surrounding balcony to match the decking on the lower story. Judith followed her in and went right to the kitchen. Blythe loved the kitchen.
"You know why I love the kitchen, Judith?" she asked. "Because he's never been in it, that's why. I love every single room in this house because he's never been in it. And neither has his old lady. She hasn't been in my house either."
"All right, Blythe," Judith said as she filled the kettle with water. "You're not making any sense, and honestly, I don't think you want to, but you're going to have to tell me what's going on with you. Who did you run into today?"
Blythe pressed both hands to her stomach. She'd wanted a child so badly. His child. Viktor's. Now it was too late. She wasn't a young twenty-year-old. She wasn't going to have a baby with anyone, let alone Viktor. He had a young twenty-year-old riding on the back of his bike. She'd give him babies. That gorgeous woman. They'd be gorgeous together. Viktor and his old lady. Dried-up-prune Blythe would be a spinster.
"Can you be a spinster if you're married?"
"Blythe. Tell me what happened."
Blythe took a breath. She hurt. Her entire body, as if she'd been beaten with a baseball bat. Just breathing hurt. "I saw him today. He rode in on a motorcycle with another woman on his bike."
Judith glanced up from where she was putting loose leaf tea in a wire basket. "Him? A name would be nice."
"Viktor. Viktor Prakenskii. That's who." She dropped the bomb, knowing it was going to be an explosive one.
Judith gasped and spun around. "No way. Are you sure? Very, very certain it was Viktor?"
"I'm certain."
"We have to tell the others. Stefan is going to lose his mind. He hasn't seen his brother in years. Not since they were children. What did he look like? Did you talk to him?"
Blythe nodded slowly. "We talked. It wasn't pleasant. He claims we're married." That was the second bomb.
Judith spun completely around and leaned against the sink, gaping at her. "Oh. My. God. Are you? Are you married to him?"
Blythe rubbed her palm along her thigh to try to relieve the terrible itching. Sometimes at night . . . She blushed and shook her head. He was messing with her. Right now, he was making her palm itch. "I don't know. We were married quietly, running away together to Vegas, but a few weeks later, he insisted we marry again in a church."
The kettle whistled and Judith poured water into the teapot before turning back to her. "A church?" she prompted.
Blythe's gaze met Judith's. "In San Francisco. The same church all of you were married in. With the same priest. I recognized it and the priest. It was five years ago, but you don't forget that sort of thing. Everything was in Russian. I couldn't understand a single word. He had me sign a piece of paper that was written in Russian. At the time, I was so in love with him I didn't think to question anything. It was a church ceremony, and I thought maybe his family was religious."
"Why did you think you weren't married if you married him in two ceremonies?"
"He murdered Ray. My stepfather. It was so ugly, the entire thing. He was gone without a word and then Mom . . . It got worse from there." Blythe ducked her head again. "Really, Judith, if I'm going to talk about my past, we should call the others. They need to know Viktor's in town. Everyone is married to or living with one of his brothers. They'll want to know."
Judith nodded. "I agree. You go into the great room and I'll make the calls. Stefan is really going to lose his mind when he finds out his brother is here. They talk about Viktor all the time, but kind of in awe, sort of . . ." She trailed off, at a loss for words.
"Fearful," Blythe supplied. "Like they do with Gavriil." Lexi, the youngest of her "sisters of the heart," was living with Gavriil Prakenskii, a very scary man. He was devoted to Lexi, but anyone else was not so lucky. Gavriil let few people into his world. She liked to think he was becoming fond of all of them living on the farm.
Each had their own homes and five acres, which gave them privacy and separate lives, but they came together often and worked together to make the farm a success.
"Is Viktor as scary as Gavriil?" Judith asked.
Blythe nodded slowly. "In a different way. Viktor's covered in tats. He looks like the epitome of a very scary biker. The bad kind." Her chin jerked up. "He acts worse."
She turned away from Judith, feeling tears burning behind her eyes. She wasn't going to cry again. She'd given enough tears to Viktor Prakenskii. She couldn't get the sight of the woman on the back of his bike out of her head. "Do you know what he is, Judith? A bigamist, that's what. I know what it means when a man has a woman on the back of his bike like that. His old lady. His wife in biker terms. Oh. My. God. He committed bigamy. Why not? He's a freakin' criminal anyway. Bigamy would be just like him. Right up his alley. He's good at seducing women. I ought to know. I should have warned that poor girl."
Judith picked up the phone. "Honey, you might be going off the deep end, just a little. That's not like you. You never judge people before you know the facts. She could have just needed a ride somewhere and he was being kind."
Blythe gave a little sniff of disdain and stomped into the great room. It was massive. She liked it that way. She liked space, lots of it. High ceilings, lots of room. The house had a warm feel to it, very inviting. Her sisters often gathered in her home to visit. She was never going to have children of her own, so she enjoyed mothering all the women she'd come to love.
Recently, one of them, Airiana, had begun the process of adopting four children she'd helped rescue from a human trafficking ring--the same ring that had taken Elle Drake. Blythe spent as much time as possible with them, enjoying just being around them. She liked children and had always envisioned having several of her own.
She pressed a hand to her stomach, listening to Judith calling each of her sisters, telling them to come immediately without their men. Gavriil and Lev wouldn't like it, but they wouldn't protest. They never did. It wasn't that they didn't want their women to have fun without them; it was that they were insanely protective--at least Gavriil was. With Lev, Blythe sometimes thought his wife, Rikki, somehow kept him grounded, which was odd since Rikki was autistic.
The view was gorgeous; she could watch the sunset and see the forest so close, all the trees swaying in the wind. It gave her a sense of freedom. She could see anything coming at her, and she needed that. She needed to be able to know what she faced every single day, good or bad. Inside her home or out of it.
She hadn't seen Viktor coming. She hadn't even had an inkling of danger. Wrapping her arms around her middle, she wandered closer to the window. She'd been so in love with him. She'd never thought she'd ever find a man she wanted to be with. She tasted him in her mouth. Some nights she couldn't lie in bed alone without him and she'd go out running, a practice the other women didn't like, but one she couldn't stop. She'd never been able to stop thinking about him, even after the terrible chain of events he had set in motion.
"Viktor." She whispered his name and pre
ssed her thumb into the center of her palm. She'd loved him with everything in her, and he'd used her and left her without a word. Without one single word. He'd never looked back. She'd never been able to move on. Maybe his coming back was a good thing. Maybe now she'd be able to finally just close that door. She hoped so.
5
LEXI handed Blythe a cup of tea off the gold, polka-dotted tray. She smiled, that sweet Lexi smile that always made them love her all the more. Lexi had green eyes and a little pixie face surrounded by masses of wild auburn hair. She didn't just have a green thumb; her element was earth and it spoke to her. She could grow anything, and the farm thrived because of her.
"You should taste the lemon bars, Blythe," she encouraged. "Lucia made them. She's becoming quite a baker."
Blythe took the bar and placed it on a napkin. "Lucia's already a wonderful chef."
"She rivals Lev," Rikki said, snagging a lemon bar. "And that's saying something."
Blythe raised an eyebrow, shocked that Rikki was eating something other than her beloved peanut butter. "When did you start eating cookies? Other than peanut butter cookies?" She'd tried for years to get her "sister" to eat more foods.
Rikki had dark, almost black eyes and sun-kissed dark hair she wore in a ragged cut that suited her. A sea urchin diver, she was bound to the water. She didn't like to go anywhere other than her boat, and her sisters' homes. She had a difficult time with textures and foods, so Blythe was very happy to see her eat something different, even if it was a cookie.
Rikki shrugged. "Lev and Lucia cook together, and lately they've been baking. Lucia gives me those eyes of hers and I make myself cave and Lev . . ." She blushed, the color creeping up her neck to her face. "He likes games."
The women burst out laughing. Blythe took a sip of tea and found herself relaxing for the first time since she'd seen Viktor Prakenskii. It felt good to be with her sisters in their circle. They were there for her. They'd come immediately at Judith's call, dropping whatever they were doing to be with her.
"That sounds intriguing," Airiana said. An air element, she was small and fragile looking, young to be the mother of teenage Lucia and her three siblings. Still, she seemed to thrive in the role. "Do you want to tell us what that means, hon?"
Rikki made a face at her and bit into the lemon bar. "I've added lemon to my list of good things, especially if it's in the form of this cookie."
Blythe laughed softly. "I guess anything added is an improvement."
"Lev is always cooking now that Lucia comes over," Rikki confided with mock disgust. "I think he got her to enter into a conspiracy with him to get me to eat, although neither will admit it."
Blythe was fairly certain that was not only possible, but probable. Like Blythe, Lev and the others always worried about Rikki's eating habits. She worked hard underwater, collecting sea urchins to sell. It was difficult work with the waves constantly battering her. Before she met Lev, she dove alone, a terrifying thing for Blythe and the others to endure, worrying every single time she went down. Now, Lev dove with her. He was an experienced diver and had learned to harvest the sea urchins nearly as fast as Rikki.
"I met him, Blythe, before, in Italy. He came to the wedding," Lissa confessed. A fire element, Lissa was all flame. Red hair, small and curvy, she helped support the farm with her glassblowing business.
Blythe swung her gaze to Lissa, feeling a hard punch to her stomach. "You met Viktor and didn't tell us?" Lissa had no way of knowing that Blythe was maybe--okay, probably--married to him, but still, shouldn't she have told them?
"He's been on a very dangerous undercover assignment, and he made it clear to us that we couldn't blow his cover. Any leak, no matter how small, might get him killed."
Intellectually, Blythe understood, but it still hurt. Everything to do with Viktor hurt. He was invading her world again. Last time he had all but destroyed her. This time, she couldn't let that happen.
"Blythe, honey, I didn't mean to hurt you," Lissa whispered, her blue eyes wide with compassion. "Please don't be upset."
Of course she was upset. They were loyal to one another, that was how it worked. Now, Viktor had managed to drive a wedge between them. She felt eyes on her, the others watching her closely. She took a sip of tea, concentrating on keeping her hand steady. She wasn't going to allow anyone to see just how much Lissa's betrayal hurt.
"I'm upset that he's here. He claims we're married." She said it aloud, staring directly at Lissa, watching her face. There was no shock. No surprise at all. Lissa knew because Viktor had to have told her. "How strange that you didn't even tell me that. Don't you think I should have known I was married? What if I'd decided to date someone?"
For the first time Lissa looked uncomfortable. "I would have stopped you. I struggled with this. Casimir said we couldn't tell his brothers, let alone all of you. Viktor made it very clear it was life or death. Is he still undercover?"
That was a good question but . . . "You know something, Lissa? I don't care if he is or isn't. In the morning I'm calling an attorney and immediately filing for divorce. Viktor can carry on with his life, undercover or not, and it won't have a thing to do with me. I don't want to see him again. Not. Ever." There was a part of her that knew that Lissa made a convenient target, but right then it didn't matter. She felt hurt and betrayed, all the same things she felt when she found Viktor gone and Ray Langton dead.
The knots in her stomach told her she was a liar, but no one else--not even Viktor--ever had to know that. She took another sip of tea to try to remain serene. In the face of a crisis, Blythe was always cool and calm. She couldn't be any different now.
Judith leaned forward. "Tell us what happened, Blythe. All of it."
She pressed her hand deeper into her stomach. Her womb. Her empty womb. "I met him on a Sunday. I was running in the park, and he was running too. He nearly knocked me over, and the next thing I knew we were running together, then lunch and then we were inseparable. He was . . ." Is. "Extraordinary. Tall, and I'm tall so that's saying something. Good-looking. His scars only make him rugged. He looks like a man. He had tattoos everywhere." She blushed thinking about all the times she'd traced those tattoos with her tongue. She'd practically devoured him. At the time, nothing they did seemed wrong.
There was silence, her sisters waiting with rapt attention. She took another sip of tea and a bite of the lemon bar. It tasted like dust in her mouth and she pushed the napkin away from her. She felt so empty all the time. Half alive. Just enough to walk through the motions. She'd been getting better, slowly, coming out of that dark place Viktor had left her in.
"I thought we were happy, made for each other. He seemed happy with me." She couldn't keep the hurt out of her voice. "He's a great actor, and he takes his undercover roles very seriously. I certainly believed him. We were married very quickly, after only four weeks. I should have known because he was the one pushing to get married. My mother and Ray lived a good distance from me, but Viktor wanted to meet them. I was . . . reluctant."
"Why?" Judith asked. "You told us Ray was a pedophile, but you didn't know that until he was murdered."
"My mother drank a lot, I told all of you that, but I didn't say how bad it was. When I say a lot, I mean she binged. Sometimes she was sober, but when she drank it was ugly. I thought after she met Ray she'd back off, but instead, they drank together. I didn't like him at all, and my relationship with my mom deteriorated even more than it already had. I tried once going to her sisters to talk to them about it. They hadn't seen her drinking, not since high school and college. She took great care to always appear perfect around them."
Blythe tried to keep the bitterness out of her voice. "I was an only child, and life growing up with an alcoholic parent wasn't a picnic. My mother thought nothing of throwing things or hitting, slapping and even punching me when she was drunk. When she was sober, she 'couldn't remember' ever doing such a thing. She would cry sometimes and beg forgiveness, other times she'd call me a liar."
; She didn't look at her sisters. She couldn't. She didn't want to see sympathy; she wasn't telling them for that reason. They had to understand why Viktor had become her world. "I didn't date, because if I did, I'd have to bring my date home and Mom would be awful. Later, I just couldn't trust anyone enough to bring them into my life. I tried taking care of Mom, I even put her in a rehab or two. She walked away from both of them and refused to talk to me for months because I called her an alcoholic."
She drank the last of her tea and put the cup carefully back on the tray. It was impossible not to glance around the room. Each of them had a horrendous story, but this was her own. She'd gotten through it, and she'd thought it had made her stronger. And then she'd met Viktor.
"I thought I was whole again by the time I met Viktor. It's really no wonder that I fell for a man like him." It didn't matter that it wasn't any wonder; she still felt guilty for falling like a ton of bricks, for bringing him into her mother's life. "He was attentive, always careful of my comfort, and he acted as if he would protect me from anything or anyone--and he did. When we finally met my mother and Ray, things didn't go well. Both drank with dinner, and then drank after dinner. Mom grew belligerent with me the way she always did, and Ray followed her example. Viktor told them both to go to hell and took me out of the house. We didn't go back."
She found herself rubbing her thumb into the middle of her palm. When she was anxious she often did that, a bad habit she wished she could break. It was a telling sign in front of her sisters. They all wore the mark of a Prakenskii, two circles intertwined that faded beneath the skin and only came to the surface when one or the other brought it forward. She rubbed her palm on her thigh, forcing herself to stop touching that exact center where it felt as if she were touching Viktor.
"Keep going, Blythe," Lexi encouraged.
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