Sazon (Bratva Blood Brothers Book 4)

by K. J. Dahlen

  He turned his mind to upcoming challenge. Starting over in a new country. All human beings are born free. This, they all fought for. They weren’t born free where they started. They fought for their freedom.

  To go to America was a golden opportunity to start his own life, yet be part of a family too. Glancing around the small plane, he saw the faces of the men that rescued him. He wasn’t alone anymore and hadn’t been from the day he found Yuri and the others. They accepted him into their little group and from that day to this, he hadn’t been alone anymore and it was wonderful. Something he’d never had before, a family.

  Now they would all begin a new life together. Despite the flying terror, he felt good about this chance. They said America was the land of opportunity, well he was praying they could make a good life for themselves there.

  Mikial smiled to himself as the plane flew toward their new life. He was a grown man now and while his life hadn’t been easy when he was a kid, it had been better recently. He’d found the others as a preteen and never looked back. He had become part of them through thick and thin and some days, the think almost broke them but they hung together and now this was their reward. A new life. He couldn’t wait to find out what life would be like in America. He didn’t think it would be the same as Russia. This, he felt would be an adventure he wanted in on.

  All in all, Mikial felt the five of them had done well together before they met Nikoli. The real challenge had been after they met Nikoli and Sergi. Under the rules of the Bratva, their training had been complete. They’d grown strong and disciplined. Under the Bratva, their lives had taken on a whole new meaning.

  His worst nightmare had been pushed to the back of his mind and there it stayed. He never had bad dreams anymore. He actually looked forward to each new day now. Looking around the plane again, he knew he finally had friends and these men were the only family he would ever need. He would die for them and he knew they would do the same for him.

  Brothers. And should act towards one another in a spirit of brotherhood.

  America would be a challenge for him to conquer and he felt a new hope building in his chest. Suddenly, he couldn’t wait to get there and begin his life.

  When the plane landed in New York, the sun was coming up in the eastern sky. It was the dawning of a new day and a new life for the six men that walked off the plane.

  Each of the men had their own dreams, their own goals and their own hopes in their quest to begin their new life. They would experience joy and despair, broken trusts and betrayal, new hopes and shattered dreams but they would do it together. They would never be alone again.

  At special times or when they’d achieved another goal. They often would toast vodka with,

  “We are brothers by choice. Blood has brought us together and will forever hold us strong.

  Brothers we are and brothers we will always be.”

  And they would find the love of their lives here in the new country someday. All they would have to do was grab hold of it and hang on tight…

  Bratva Blood Brothers

  “We are brothers by choice. Blood has brought us together and will forever hold us strong.

  Brothers we are and brothers we will always be.”

  Sazon

  Bratva Blood Brothers Series

  Book Four

  K.J. Dahlen

  PROLOGUE

  May 13th

  The old man lay dying on the floor of his showroom. His blood seeped from his mortal wound along with the other wound he sustained, spreading to cover his body like a dark red blanket. Ivan Petroff felt himself growing weaker as the afternoon sun crept toward evening but he didn’t give up.

  He hung on. He had to. He knew one or both of his grandchildren would come for him and he had to tell them what happened. He had to tell them who killed him and who took their finest treasure.

  Ivan tried to sit up a little straighter. His mind was willing but his flesh was weak. The massive gashes in his side, chest and back began leaking again. He felt so tired, all he wanted to do was to close his eyes and slowly slip away into the darkness that he knew was waiting for him.

  He could hear whispers calling out to him, voices from his past calling his name and he knew he was close to dying. He didn’t want his grandchildren, Ana and Drago to suffer the same fate as he. He had to warn them.

  Then he heard footsteps approaching. The bang of a door opening and closing and he tried to call out but no words would come.

  “Pops,” a shrill voice called out.

  Then suddenly the air around him was disturbed as his granddaughter rushed to his side. The old man lifted his eyes to see her face. Ivan saw her horrified expression and her tears.

  “What happened to you, Pops? Who did this?” Ana asked him. Her trembling hands were touching his wounds as if she could stop the bleeding or push the blood already spilt back into him.

  He raised his blood covered hand. “It’s all right child. It’s t-too late to save me… but you must save yourself and… your brother…” His words were broken and nothing more than whispers.

  Tears drenched her cheeks. “What happened to you?” She touched the sides of his face with her blood stained fingers. Stroking his cheek with the back of her fingers in a gentle manner. “I love you Pops. I don’t want you to go, not yet. I can’t lose you.”

  Lifting bloody hands to cover her own Ivan smiled. “I’ve been ready to go for a long time now, but I stayed so you and your brother wouldn’t be alone. I stayed to watch you grow into the fine woman you are and I am so proud of you two. You have made this old man very proud. But now you must also be careful. A man named Michael Tabrone has killed me. He ordered one of my finer blades then instead of paying for it, he used it to strike me down.”

  “What?” Anan whispered. “Why would he do something like that?”

  “He claimed he was looking for something but I knew that wasn’t the real reason.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I could see the look of death in his eyes. He enjoyed creating the carnage he did here today. He enjoyed too much spilling my blood in his quest to find and steal something that doesn’t belong to him.”

  Ana gasped. She knew what her grandfather was referring to. “He didn’t.”

  Weaker now, Ivan nodded. “He knew they were here and he didn’t stop searching for them until he found them.”

  Ana grasped the old man’s hands. “How did he know they existed?”

  He shook his head. “There have been rumors for almost a hundred years now child, you—know that. W-we both knew this. The secret our family never told anyone but everyone knew it.”

  Her hands trembled as she soothed his brow. “I thought the world would have forgotten by now.”

  His breathing caught short and he smiled. “The world never forgets a treasure such as this one. There would always be someone after it.” He tried to look around the place he called home, the home his own father build out of nothing but determination, sweat, his own blood and the tears he’d spilt when he knew the world he’d always known was gone. “When my father fled to this country from Russia, he told me he brought his two greatest treasures with him. One of those treasures was the skills he used to bring his creations to life and the other was the pair of daggers he crafted for his king. He told me he wept the day the world heard the news that his king was dead.”

  Ana curled her hands around his and whispered. “I know Pops, you told me this story before.”

  He glanced over at her and smiled as blood dribbled from his lips.

  His eyes held a glow now that frightened her.

  “Pops, please don’t go, not yet,” she whispered. “I need you, Drago needs you. You haven’t finished teaching us all you know yet.”

  He hesitated for a moment then spoke, “I-I have taught you well child. You two know better than I ever did—what the metal holds. You and Drago are my finest works of art. I did well with your father but after he died and you came to live here—I did the
best I could with you and your brother. N-now it is time for you to teach others the same way—I taught you.” He closed his eyes for a moment then opened them again; there was fire enough left his gaze to bring forth his vow, “You must get back what we lost. You must return the daggers to Nikolas’ remaining family. We have held this secret for too long. Promise me you will do this. Promise me.”

  Ana locked her eyes with his. “I promise. I swear to you I will do as you ask.”

  Ivan nodded then closed his eyes and began slipping away. He could welcome death now with no regrets. The whispers he’d heard earlier were back and this time, they called out to him a bit louder.

  Ana sat there helpless to stop her grandfather from taking his last journey. She held his hand as tears rolled down her cheeks. She was unaware of anything happening besides this. She nearly missed her brother joining them. She scarcely heard his growl of rage as he took in the scene in front of him.

  Entirely numb, she barely felt his hands cover hers as they both witnessed the last breath the her Pops took into his lungs. Ana turned into her brother’s arms and wept for the old man.

  Drago gently laid their grandfather on the cold floor and taking off his jacket, he covered the old man’s face in respect. Helping his sister to her feet, he led her over to the table in their kitchen. Sitting her on a chair, he knelt beside her and lifted her face to his. “What the hell happened here? Who did this to him?”

  Ana took a deep breath and let it out while trembling. “He said the man’s name was Michael Tabrone. He’s been working on a special order for weeks now, remember? This man wanted a blade fit for a king. I knew grandpa had a meeting about the sword today that’s why I stayed away from the house. You know his rules. His damn rules of keeping us hidden from the world, that’s what got him killed today.”

  Drago brushed a lock of hair off her forehead. “No little one, it didn’t. He had his rules in place for a reason. They were to protect us from harm. His father put those rules in place in order to protect his own family. He didn’t want the rest of the world to know about this place. That rule protected his father a very long time ago when he was in hiding from KGB.”

  Ana shook her head. “Those days were over a long time ago. Nobody cares about that stuff nowadays Drago!”

  Drago shook his head. “Obviously, that’s not true. Someone killed Pops today for the secret our family had held for a hundred years.”

  Ana gasped. “But how would anyone even know about it?” She grabbed her brother’s hands. “No one really knew about the daggers before, not for sure. No one knew if they really existed, they only heard rumors and great grandfather changed his name when he came to live here. No one ever knew who we really are.”

  “Maybe this guy just got lucky, I don’t know.” Drago shrugged his shoulders as he got to his feet. Then a hard look came into his eyes. “Whatever happened here today, this man’s luck has just run out. Come, we have work to do. We must prepare grandfather for burial then we begin our hunt. I must let Gretchen know what happened here. She can help.”

  Ana looked up and shook her head. “Please… this is a job for you and I. As much as I love your wife, this is for us to do.”

  He paused then nodded briefly. “Okay, but she will want to be there tomorrow when we bury him.”

  “I know and she should be but for now, let’s just you and I prepare him.” She stood up and went over to the sink. Washing her hands clean of her grandfather’s blood, she prepared a large basin with warm water and fetched clean clothes for cleaning his body. Draping the table with a clean linen, she watched as Drago carried their grandfather over to the table and gently laid him down on the hard surface.

  Ana moved over and gently began cleaning off the blood on his hand while Drago cut his clothing away. It wasn’t until they turned him over that they knew what really happened here today.

  Ana’s eyes flew over to her brothers as they both saw the evidence.

  Drago stared at the wound to his grandfather’s back and side. His hands curled in his rage. “This man Michael Tabrone is a dead man walking for now. He will live only long enough for me to find his cursed soul and then I will send him to hell,” he vowed.

  “Not if I find him first,” Ana whispered under her breath. “Not if I find him first,” she repeated.

  Drago left the room and Ana carried on with her preparations. Soon, she could hear the sound of nails being pounded into wood and she knew her brother was building their grandfather a simple casket in accordance to his wish.

  They lived in a remote area of the Catskill Mountains. Here, was where her great-grandfather had come when he fled Russia all those years ago. Here, it was rugged and more than a little wild and while life was hard and uncompromising at times, it was also a good life. These mountains held many secrets and would continue to hold them as long as time allowed.

  Her great-grandfather’s name was Vladimir Curcovic. When he left Russia in 1917, he brought with him his skills, his tools and a secret he would hold for a hundred years. This place had been carved with the hopes of renewing life, as he knew it way back then. He took his little piece of wilderness and made a home for him and his family. There were rumors about what else he brought with him but it was never proven, so no one knew for sure but Vlad and his family was well known for what they did. They were the finest blade makings in all of Europe and had done so for generations.

  Early the next morning, just as the sun peeked over the eastern horizon, Drago led the team of dogs hauling the sled. Six of their best dogs carried their grandfather to his final resting place. Drago led the team and Ana and Gretchen followed the sled.

  Ana held the hand of her brother’s wife but she shed no tears this morning. Her amber eyes burned with rage with each step she took. Gretchen rubbed her big belly as they entered the cemetery that held the three generations of their family.

  Drago led the dog sled right up to the open hole in the ground. He was met there by two of his friends and men that worked under their grandfather. Mitch and Abel assisted getting the coffin off the sled and into the hole. Ana and Gretchen watched as they lowered her grandfather into the ground.

  Her eyes found the tombstone with his name on it. Ivan Petroff. That was the name he’d been born with but not the name his father had been born to. Beside his name was the name of her grandmother, Jillian.

  The next headstone was the one that held her own parents names, Alexi and Glory. They had died in a car accident when Ana and Drago were children. The driver of the car had been drunk at the time of the accident and he walked away without a scratch while her parents laid there broken and bleeding. Her eyes moved to the last headstone in the small picketed space. That belonged to her great grandfather and his wife. Vladimir Petroff was the name on the tombstone but again, that was not his real name.

  Ana shook her head in frustration. She hated the fact that her family hid behind a false name. The Curcovic name had meant something in the world at one time but nowadays, it was just another name.

  She tuned to watch the three men shovel the dirt on top of her grandfather’s coffin. When they were done, the sun had been up for a while and the day promised to be a warm one. There was no priest to officiate and no other mourners except for family. That was just the way it was here.

  Mitch and Abel left them alone for a moment.

  Gretchen waited for Drago and Ana to say their final goodbyes to the man who taught them everything they knew.

  Ana walked up to the headstone and silently made a vow to find the man who put her grandfather here. Then she took out a small knife and slid the blade along the palm of her hand.

  When she went to pledge her oath on the headstone, Drago grabbed her wrist and their eyes met in a challenge. Drago took the knife on his other hand and letting go of her wrist, he slit his own palm and grasping their hands together, their blood intermingled then as one, they laid their bloody hands on the headstone.

  “We swear to find the man responsible and tak
e our revenge,” Drago whispered his oath.

  Waiting just a moment, Ana repeated his oath. Then they both turned and walked away.

  A moment later, Drago turned to his sister. “You will not do this on your own. You can search for this man while I make the blade that will take his life but we will be together when he’s confronted.”

  Ana nodded. “Okay, but we have to find the daggers he took before we can confront him about murdering our grandfather. Grandfather asked me to turn them over to the proper people, which means we have to find them, once we have the daggers back. Along with the sword used to kill him.”

  Drago nodded. “I might know how to do that. But as you’ve said, we have a lot to do first.”

  Ana glanced back at the headstone they’d just left. “Yes we do. First, we have to find a murderer and you have to make a worthy blade for revenge.”

  CHAPTER ONE

  July 11th…

  Ana stared at her laptop and snarled at the image she saw. It was a face she knew well. She’d seen it before on the surveillance tapes from her grandfather’s workshop. She’d found him, Michael fucking Tabrone. The rage inside her had been building since the day they’d seen the tapes of their grandfather’s murder.

  His portrait was grainy but she could see every line in his face. His face was long and drawn out. His hair was sweaty looking in the photo, dark and curly. His eyes were what bothered her the most. Even in the photo, there was nothing behind the blue orbs. No sign of life, just an emptiness like someone with no soul would have.