From Russia With Claws

by Jacey Conrad

  “Someone close to the family had to put it there.” Her eyes narrowed. Nikolai had his own place, but Alexei would occasionally spend nights in the house with Papa. And then he’d gone on a business trip so he had an alibi.

  Viktor nodded sadly. Galina looked from him to Andrey.

  “So let’s say Alexei planted it.” She frowned. “How was he able to trigger it or set the bomb to go off when he was out of town?”

  “Your father always went to play chess with Petyr at the same time every week. That’s where Ilya was going when the car blew up.”

  Galina leaned back in her chair. She closed her eyes briefly. “Do you have proof?”

  Andrey answered. “That’s what we’re working to find. Alexei has covered his tracks remarkably well.”

  She sighed. It figured. The one thing Alexei turned out to be good at was covering up patricide. Turning to Viktor once more, she asked, “When did you get in touch with Andrey? And why didn’t you contact me or Nikolai?”

  “A few days after the funeral.” Viktor stood and began to stalk around the room, covering the distance in a few quick strides. “I needed eyes on Alexei and I couldn’t risk being seen. Andrey seemed the likeliest candidate. Everyone knows he and Alexei can’t stand each other.”

  Galina quirked her brow at him. He frowned at her. “I couldn’t risk getting in touch with you or Nikolai or Irina. Not if I wanted Alexei to keep thinking I was dead.”

  She nodded. This she understood. If Irina had known he was alive, she wouldn’t have been able to contain her joy. She might be a good actress, but no one was that good—not with Alexei obsessively watching her.

  “So you helped him,” Galina said to Andrey. “You falsified his dental records for identification.”

  He nodded. “I didn’t tell you. Viktor was correct in keeping things quiet.”

  Galina wanted to be angry, but she knew that Andrey and Viktor were right. She wouldn’t have been able to keep this news from Irina, not if she could have eased her suffering. Still, she was still displeased to have been left out of the search for her father’s killer, even if it led to her brother.

  Andrey’s phone beeped. While he stepped out to take the call, Galina tried both Nik and Irina’s cell phones. Both went directly to voice mail. She shook her head at Viktor, who looked like he wanted to punch his fist through the cheaply hung drywall of the motel room. She left a quick message for Nik to call her back, and then hung up. Viktor being alive was news she wanted to deliver herself.

  “Did Andrey tell you he called off the engagement to Irina?”

  Viktor nodded. His mouth was pressed in a grim line. “He may have said something.”

  Galina rolled her eyes. “Then I hope you’ve picked out a ring because if you don’t propose to my sister, you are a deeply, deeply stupid mammal.”

  Viktor looked like she’d hit over the head with a piano. “Wh-What?”

  “You are planning to marry Irina, right?” She stared at him, waiting for an acceptable answer.

  “I…I didn’t, I mean, I hadn’t expected I’d be allowed to.” He didn’t drop his gaze from hers, even though a flush crept up his handsome face.

  “Buy the ring.”

  Andrey returned before Viktor could say anything else. “I need to go. Sit tight. I’ll be back later. And you, my dear stalker, need to get back to work.” He held the door open for her.

  Galina gave Viktor a wry smile before following Andrey out to their cars.

  22

  Is That a Knife in Your Pocket or Are You Just Happy to See Me?

  GALINA KNOCKED ON THE DOOR to Maksim’s room at the Hotel Andra. He had the penthouse suite in one of the poshest hotels in Seattle. She hadn’t seen him since Papa’s funeral. Between the FBI inquiry into her father’s death, Alexei’s absence, and the need to keep the business running, she hadn’t gotten a chance to speak with Maksim to iron out the final details of the caviar import deal.

  He ushered her inside, placing his hand on the small of her back. She could feel the dampness of his palm through the thin fabric of her blouse. Galina moved away from him, walking over to the window that looked out over downtown.

  “Thank you for coming,” Maksim began. “I wanted to speak with you before I leave.”

  “You’re going back to Russia?”

  “Eventually.” He joined her at the picture window, standing easily beside her. “First a trip to New York, and then home.”

  “I’m sure you’ll be happy to get back.” She turned her back on the view. “So what can I do for you?”

  Maksim’s slap came out of nowhere, stunning Galina. He backhanded her, the force snapping her head to the side. Galina gasped, staggering. Maksim grabbed her hair, yanking her head back. She slammed her palms against his chest, shoving him away, taking a lock of her hair with him.

  “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” she shouted, anger and fear sparking along her nerves.

  “блудница!” he yelled back, grabbing for her again.

  He’d called her a whore. She dodged, feeling the ache in her cheek. She wanted to work her way back to the door of the suite, but he blocked her way.

  “You and that Rom, spreading your legs to him,” Maksim spat, eyes glowing with fury. “You think you can embarrass me? I am Federov!”

  Galina jerked to the side, hoping to make it past him, but he grabbed her upper arm. “You will not make a fool of me,” he hissed, spittle landing on her face. “I will show you your place.”

  “Like hell,” she snarled, ripping free from his grip. She was too angry to be afraid.

  He snatched at her again, dragging her against his chest. Galina brought her knee up to catch him in the groin, but he twisted away. “Alexei told me you would need to be broken in,” he whispered against her cheek. “That you need a firm hand.” His hand slid down to her ass.

  Galina snarled, lifting her foot and slamming her heel down on his instep. Maksim howled in pain. She broke away from him, running for the door.

  She’d only made it a few steps when he tackled her from behind, throwing them both to the floor. “чертовски сука!” he yelled. His hands tore at her clothes, his claws ripping her blouse.

  “Get off me!” she screamed, unable to trigger her change with him on top of her.

  “Bitch!” Maksim lifted her head in his hands and slammed it into the floor.

  Fireworks went off behind her eyes. An icy spike of fear speared through her. She needed to get out of this room, away from Maksim. He was crazy, his eyes wild and unfocused.

  He bent over her. Galina reared up, smashing her forehead into the bridge of his nose. She saw stars, but it was worth it when she heard the satisfying crack of Maksim’s nose breaking. She shoved him off of her and managed to get to her feet as he screamed behind her.

  She was out the door, her phone from her pocket now in her hand. She hit Andrey’s speed dial number as she raced to the elevator. She slapped the down button as Andrey answered.

  “Galy—”

  She cut him off, panting heavily. “I’m at the Hotel Andra. Maksim…”

  Something sharp and fiery plunged into her back. Galina screamed as pain flowed through her, hot and wet and burning like a brand. The elevator dinged, and she stumbled through the open doors. Galina spun, dropping the phone to the elevator floor so she could use both hands to fight to fight off Maksim.

  Blood covered his face from where she’d broken his nose. He swung at her again, dagger clutched in his fist. The blade slashed across her forearm and Galina felt like she was igniting from the inside out. Another stab to her upper arms, then a swipe that missed. She saw the red blood turn black as it poured out of her.

  Silver! Maksim was stabbing her and he was doing it with a silver blade. It was weakening her rapidly. Galina snarled, lashing at him with her claws. She caught him across the face, raking down his forehead and across his nose. The knife went flying as he threw up his arms for protection.

  Galin
a shoved him away weakly, but it was enough. Her muscles were getting harder to control as the silver scorched through her system. Maksim stumbled backward, out of the elevator. The doors closed in his face.

  “Son of a b…” she managed to get out before she felt bile rise in the back of her throat. Galina leaned over and threw up, feeling the silver working into her bloodstream, poisoning her system.

  Hitting the button for the lobby, Galina slumped against the wall. The world was spinning too fast, just one big mass of light and color. She heard Andrey’s voice shouting at her from somewhere very far away.

  Then everything seemed to telescope inward, turning her upside down and she tumbled into darkness.

  She heard a frantic voice, shouting her name. Galina wanted to open her eyes, but it seemed to take a thousand years and all of her energy. It took her a few moments to recognize the voice, and to realize there were hands on her, gently cupping her face.

  She managed to crack open one eye. “Andrey?” she croaked, barely able to see his stern face. He looked so worried. It took her a minute to wonder why, her brain a thick and sluggish thing. Before she could figure out what was wrong, the blackness of unconsciousness pulled her under again.

  23

  Chicken Queen

  THERE WAS BEEPING. It annoyed her.

  That was the first real coherent thought she was able to process. Where the hell was that beeping coming from? Who the hell had thought that was a good idea? Was it her alarm? Was she late for work?

  Galina tried to lift her arm and couldn’t. That sent a bolt of panic through her, which should have done something—made her move, leap to her feet, jerk upright in bed, something. Instead she lay wherever she was like a dead fish. What the hell was wrong with her? Why couldn’t she feel anything?

  She managed to open her eyes. They felt dry and gummy, her eyelids as heavy as wet snow. Taking a minute to focus, Galina slowly looked around the room. White and steel and industrial greeted her. Hospital. The word floated to the top of her mind, like algae on a lake. She was taking entirely too long to process things.

  She tried to turn her head, then realized it was well beyond her in her weakened state. She had to settle for what she could.

  “Galya?” Andrey’s voice whispered. He sounded exhausted.

  His face hovered above hers. Galina had never been so happy to see anyone in her entire life. His jaw was covered in stubble, his eyes were dark and shadowed from lack of sleep and worry, but he was beautiful. “Andrey?” She licked at dry, cracked lips.

  He kissed her softly, his hands clutching at her. “Сладкая.”

  “What happened?” There were gaps in her memory. She had no idea how long she’d been unconscious.

  He lifted her hand to press kisses on each of her knuckles. She saw an IV taped to the back of her hand. “You were stabbed. It was a silver blade.”

  “Maksim,” she gasped, remembering her meeting with him in the hotel.

  Galina looked around nervously. She hated hospitals—if she was afraid of anything, it was being stuck in one, unable to escape as she was poked and prodded and experimented on. She shifted, trying to push herself up. Then she realized she was wrapped up in plastic tubes and monitors and wires, and her mind blanked. She began to bat at the tubing.

  “What are you doing?” Andrey pressed her hand down on the bed gently. “You need to rest.”

  Galina shook her head. She couldn’t rest in a hospital. “What I need is to get out of here.” She pushed weakly at his hands.

  “Galya,” he warned.

  “Andrey, I can’t stay.” Her voice rose higher as she began to feel panic skim along her nerves. The beeping was going to drive her crazy.

  “What are you talking about?” Andrey asked, voice tired and rough. He brushed hair from her eyes.

  Galina subsided back into the bed, exhausted. All she wanted to do was sleep, but she couldn’t, not here.

  “I hate hospitals. Like hate hate them.” She couldn’t say she was scared. Galina hated being afraid. “I have always been…concerned that someone would find out, you know, what the family was, and they’ll lock me up and do experiments on me.”

  “You’re afraid of hospitals.” His voice was soft, almost loving.

  Galina tossed her head weakly on the pillow, even hating to just hear it said out loud. She closed her eyes, feeling exhaustion sweep over her. Just the few minutes she’d been awake had tired her beyond imagining. Her limbs felt heavy and numb; she suspected the silver still hadn’t worked its way out of her bloodstream yet.

  “Please, Andrey,” Galina whispered, managing to twitch her fingers. Her eyes pleaded with him.

  He ran a hand through his black hair. His blue eyes were clouded, tired. He nodded once. “Very well.” Andrey clasped her hand. “Nik can handle the paperwork of discharging you. I will need to make sure my house is ready for you.” He stood up to leave.

  “Your house?” Galina asked, voice weak even to her ears.

  “My house.” Andrey leaned down, brushing hair away from her face. “It’s the only place I can keep you safe. No arguments, Galya.”

  She managed a small smile. “I wasn’t going to argue. I just never thought this would be the way I got to spend a night at your place.”

  He gave her a tired smile in return. “I will need to make some calls to make sure everything is prepared for your arrival.” Andrey looked down at her fondly. “I’d tell you not to go anywhere, but it looks like we’re in no danger of that.”

  “Just for that,” Galina began, eyelids growing too heavy to lift, “I’m going to drag myself out of here…by my teeth.” She felt his lips graze her forehead before she knew nothing more.

  The sheets she lay on were much softer than those of her hospital bed. The pillows were plumper. The scent of the room was no longer medicinal; rather, the smell of…vanilla cookies?…tickled at her nostrils, along with something sharper, more herbaceous. Galina flexed her fingers, feeling pain spark along her nerves. The silver was still moving through her.

  She moaned. Wasn’t she supposed to be feeling better by now?

  “She’s this way.” Andrey’s voice came to her from somewhere else, nearby but not in the room.

  The door to her room opened, revealing Andrey and a heavy set, squat woman wearing a nubby cardigan with chickens embroidered on it. Her iron grey hair was pulled back in a bun, her dark skin wrinkled like a raisin. “Mama Yaga?” she whispered, attempting to push herself up on elbows that wouldn’t support her.

  The full lips split into a wide smile. “Yes, child, that is my name these days.” She looked up at Andrey, who was holding her bag. At least, Galina thought it was her bag; last time she checked, Andrey didn’t have a tote bag with chicken tracks sewn all over it. “This young man was most insistent that I come right away.” She shot Andrey a dark look.

  “It’s silver poisoning. She was stabbed,” he tried to explain before she shushed him.

  “I have eyes. They may be old, boychick, but they still work.” Mama Yaga stood over her bed and softly brushed the hair from Galina’s eyes. “Your young man says that you do not care for hospitals.” She winked at Galina. “Smart girl not to trust them.”

  Galina stared up at Mama Yaga, amazed by the presence of this woman. She was a force, a howling vortex of power that filled the space around her. Galina understood now why everyone went to Mama Yaga for healing, for spells, for potions. “Can you help me?” For the first time, she wasn’t ashamed that her voice shook. “It really hurts.”

  “Of course, my dear.” Her hand was gentle on Galina’s forehead. “But know this: often the cure is more painful than that which it is supposed to help.”

  Galina hesitated. She thought she could handle pain, but the silver inside her made her wonder. The stab wounds hurt more than she thought possible. Was there something that could hurt worse than that? Was it something she really wanted to attempt?

  A knock at the door interrupted them. Konstantin sto
rmed in, not waiting for Andrey’s approval. All eyes turned to him. “I said I was not to be disturbed!” Andrey shouted, his voice a roar.

  Konstantin winced, but held his ground. His handsome face was flushed, his clothing wrinkled and torn, and his normally perfect hair was a matted mess. He leaned against the doorjamb, breathing heavily, his arm pressed tight against his side. “Alexei…” he began, then had to stop to gulp for air. “He’s got Irina.”

  “WHAT?!” Galina tried to push herself out of bed, but all she managed to do was sit upright for a few seconds before falling back in bed. “She’s supposed to be at the safe house with you!”

  “You were already out of it when this happened. She stole my car when I was on patrol. I took off after her, but even at my fastest, I’m no match for a car. I called someone to come and get me and tried to get her scent again.”

  Galina glared at all of them, but Andrey headed off her angry words. “I called Viktor at the motel and told him to watch Alexei.”

  Konstantin dropped into a chair, exhaustion set in the line of his shoulders. “Irina went to Alexei’s club. I didn’t get there until after they’d already left.” He shook his head, and then looked at Galina. “Some of the men there said he was bragging about your unfortunate run-in with a silver knife.”

  Galina nodded. It didn’t surprise her in the slightest. She wondered when Maksim had thrown his lot in with Alexei. Her brother must really be feeling threatened to try something like this.

  Andrey’s jaw clenched in rage. “Son of a bitch.” He took Galina’s hand in his. “What else?”

  “Irina apparently came in to the club, loaded for bear. The old guard are not all that impressed with Alexei’s stability, and his behavior tonight didn’t help. He and Irina left. Once I found out all I could, I came here.”

  Galina looked at Mama Yaga and nodded once. The old woman began to take bags and jars of herbs and other less wholesome things from her tote. Galina interrupted Konstantin before he could begin his tale. “Call Nik. See if he can run interference. I don’t think Irina should be alone with Alexei.”