by Jacey Conrad
“Viktor!” she screamed, as she stepped around Marty’s left side and grabbed the back of his neck, smacking his face against the side of the car. As he toppled to the ground, he landed on her legs and dragged her to the ground.
“Bitch.” Spitting blood and several teeth on the blacktop, Marty rose to his knees and pulled his arm back. Irina saw the blow coming, ducking her head out of the way before he could smash his fist into her face. Marty’s dark eyes went wild with rage as he cradled the hand he’d rammed into the pavement. But before he could lunge at her with his good hand, a wolf leaped from the side, tackling him. The wolf’s jaws snapped around Marty’s neck as he passed, dragging Marty and Irina’s purse with him as they rolled away in a blur of gray fur.
Irina sat up, watching as the wolf tore into Marty’s throat, cutting his screams short with a sharp yelp.
The wolf shifted, stretched and became a human. A very naked Viktor rose to his feet, his jaw and chest covered in blood. Irina expected to feel a cold rush of panic, for her hands to shake and her teeth to chatter. But she was fine, steady and calm. After seeing her husband murdered before her very eyes, watching someone dispatch a drug dealer who tried to smash her face didn’t have much of an impact.
“Rina, you okay?” Viktor asked, cupping her face between his palms, checking her for injuries. She nodded, handing him a handkerchief from her purse. “I’m taking you to see Mama Yaga.”
“You didn’t have to kill him,” she croaked, rubbing at her aching throat as she shook her head.
“He hurt you,” Viktor responded, as if that explained his actions.
“Well, the kid at Starbucks shorted me on caramel in my macchiato the other day, maybe you should go after him next,” she muttered, yanking her hair out of its messy bun.
“Do you know this guy?” he asked, wiping at his mouth with the hankie and ignoring her sass.
“Yeah, he’s human. A corner boy for the Italians, sells dime bags down the street, even though it drives my dad crazy. He’s a smartass about it, doesn’t even try to hide what he’s doing. He’s…he wasn’t smart enough to try to come up with something like this on his own. Someone had to have put him up to it.”
“Well, we’ll worry about that later. Let me have your phone.” He dialed a few numbers and pressed it to his ear. “Yeah, it’s Zhukovsky. I need you to send someone to the jewelry store for a cleaning job. Now. Just one. A simple turn and burn should do it.”
Viktor rolled the body to search for Marty’s wallet, pinching the phone between his jaw and shoulder. “No, she’s fine. Thanks.”
“A cleaning crew’s on the way,” he said after hanging up the phone. “Unless you want your security detail tripled, don’t let them see you bruised and banged up.”
Irina nodded, pushing to her feet. She hissed as her skinned knees made contact with the cool air. Viktor stood and picked her up bridal style. “Don’t,” she grumbled, even while she was settling her head against his shoulder.
“Why not?” he asked, freezing in place. “Am I hurting you?”
“No, because you’re naked and we’re in a parking lot and it’s weird.”
Viktor rolled his eyes. “I just killed a guy in front of you and you’re okay with that, but a little full frontal and you’re squeamish?”
Irina glanced down. “Well, I wouldn’t call it a ‘little’ full frontal.”
“Really, you’re choosing right now to flirt with me? Now?”
“It kind of fits with our history thus far.”
He chuckled, bumping his forehead against hers. She shifted up, parting her lips to kiss him. But as he shifted them toward the moon, Irina saw the rusty slick of blood drying on his face and pulled away.
“Oh.” She shuddered. “You’ve got a little…” She waved her fingers toward her mouth.
He nodded, propping the back door open with his bare leg. “Later.”
“Yeah.”
“Thank you, Vitya,” she whispered, the fond diminutive of his name feeling natural as it rolled off of her tongue.
“Never thank me for taking care of you. Though, to be fair, you did a decent job of taking care of yourself,” he told her, tucking her into the car and kissing her forehead. “Honestly, woman, you’re a handful.”
Irina hid out in the town car while Viktor located a pair of backup pants in the trunk and waited for the cleanup crew. Irina tried to fix herself up the best she could with her purse sized makeup kit. But there was only so much she could do with wet wipes and concealer.
Viktor explained matters to the Dalansky crew, a pair of Polish brothers who were handy with boric acid and didn’t ask inconvenient questions. With his superior vision, he was able to track down all of the far-flung rings and tuck them into Irina’s case. He was climbing into the driver’s side when Irina heard the squeal of tires in the parking lot. Alexei’s Escalade rolled into the parking lot, barely stopping in time to avoid hitting her car.
“Oh, shit,” she said, ducking down, praying that the tinted window was enough to hide her from her werewolf brother’s eyes. If Alexei found out that she’d been injured on Viktor’s watch, he’d have Viktor fired, if not seriously hurt. And she would be locked up in the Russian werewolf equivalent of a convent for her own protection.
“Where is she?” Alexei bellowed. “You think you can call a cleaning crew in this town and I won’t hear about it?”
“She’s fine,” Viktor growled as he stepped out of the car. “She’s resting in the back of the car.”
“You let her get hurt!” Alexei howled.
“I stopped her from getting hurt.” Through the window, Irina watched Viktor step between Alexei and the backdoor of the car, blocking his view. Alexei darted from side to side while Viktor stood still as stone, clearly unconcerned about Alexei’s ability to get by him.
“I won’t leave until I see her. I want to see for myself that she’s all right.”
Irina sighed. Alexei wasn’t going to go away. He was going to make a bigger scene and make the Dalansky brothers’ job that much more difficult, making the hot bath and hot meal she wanted so desperately a distant dream. She reached for the window controls. Maybe in the dim light, she could explain away the bruises. But Viktor put his hand on Alexei’s chest, pushing him back.
“No,” Viktor said. “You will leave. I have this under control.”
“Perhaps you misunderstand me,” Alexei seethed. “I’m telling you, I’m going to see Irina, right now.”
“And you misunderstand me. I’m acting with your father’s approval, which means that as far as you’re concerned, I am your father. And Daddy is telling you to get back in your car and go home, Alexei.”
Alexei drew himself up to his full height, attempting to stare Viktor down. “Well, someday, the old man won’t be in charge and then where will you be?”
“Standing right here,” Viktor assured him. “Between you and Irina.”
Alexei snarled and darted toward Viktor, as if he would attempt to knock him back. But Viktor stood his ground, maintaining eye contact and glaring for all he was worth. Alexei huffed, looking around for minions to help him out, but he was all alone. Alexei huffed again, and jutted his chin up, as if he didn’t want to get past Viktor anyway. Then he climbed back in his Escalade and peeled out of the parking lot with a petulant squeal of tires.
Irina peered out of the back window, watching Viktor speak to the Dalanskys. She sighed, sinking back onto the seat and wishing for an ice cold vodka…to press against her aching cheekbone. She pulled her phone out of her bag and texted Nik.
Had a problem at the shop, but mess being cleaned.
Nothing lost.
Nik responded almost immediately.
You sure you’re okay? Do I need to come down there?
Irina texted back.
V. took care of it, but Al. showed up and went nuts.
You may need to get to Papa first to explain.
He’s gonna make it look like V. fucked up. He didn’t.<
br />
Will do. You sure don’t need me?
Nope. I’m good. V. is taking good care of me.
I’ll bet he is. You dirty ho.
Man-slut.
She laughed, despite the way it made her face hurt.
Viktor slid into the driver seat and turned, checking Irina’s injuries. “Are you sure you don’t want to go see Mama Yaga?”
“I’m fine,” she assured him. “You stood up to Alexei.”
“Yes, I did.”
“What kind of Beta are you, if you’re able to stand up to an Alpha?”
Viktor scoffed. “Who told you that Alexei was an Alpha?”
He turned the ignition. Frowning, Irina tried to think of any time anyone had every directly called Alexei an Alpha. But she couldn’t remember a single occasion. Ilya was an Alpha. Galina was an Alpha, anyone could tell just by looking at her. Nik was an Alpha, but had zero interest in leading. But Alexei? Papa had never actually called Alexei an Alpha. He had always just implied it.
“Holy shit,” she said, clicking her seat-belt into place. “What else don’t I know about my family?”
Irina pulled out her phone and texted Galina.
Did you know that Alexei isn’t an ALPHA?
Duh. It’s the family’s best-known secret.
You okay? Nik called.
Fine. Viktor’s got me.
Galina sent a series of increasingly obscene smiley icons.
Irina texted her back:
Gross.
Before she could tuck her phone back in her bag, it rang, showing Papa’s number on the screen.
“I really hope that Nik got to him before Alexei,” she muttered. “Hi, Papa.”
“Irina, Nik says you won’t be able to make it to dinner. Are you all right?”
“I’m fine, Papa, just a little difficulty at the shop. Viktor took care of it. But I think it would be best if I just turn in for the night.”
“Well, that’s a shame,” Papa sighed. “Young Andrey stopped by the house and was going to join us for dinner. He will be so disappointed that you won’t be here. He was just telling me how much he enjoys your company.”
“He just happened to stop by the house, huh?”
“What?” Papa asked, though she could hear the defensive amusement in his voice. “I can’t control when a young man makes and excuse to see my daughter.”
Irina considered asking whether he was sure Andrey was there to see her and not Galina. But she thought better of it.
“Tell Viktor I expect a full report as soon as possible.”
“Yes, sir. Good night, Papa.”
“Good night, my girl. Andrey says good night, as well.”
Irina hung up the phone and groaned.
Viktor dropped her off at home, and she couldn’t help but notice that there were now two cars full of goons parked out in front of her house. Viktor’s hand were gentle as he helped her undress, slide into some pajamas and get settled into bed with a cold compress on her cheek and ibuprofen in her system. She woke up just before midnight, with Viktor curled around her back, the warmth of his naked skin soaking through her Smurf pajamas.
She turned in his arms and watched him sleep. His face was relaxed and untroubled, and his mouth soft. She stroked her fingers along his cheekbone and swiped her thumb along his bottom lip. Without even opening his eyes, he leaned forward and kissed her.
“Go to sleep, Беда,” he murmured against her mouth.
She nodded and allowed him to turn her, tucking his chin over her shoulder and pulling her close to his chest. Trouble, he’d called her. Mischief. Well, he was probably right. She did seem to cause chaos wherever she went.
What about the men outside, she wondered. Would they report back to her father, telling him that Viktor stayed all night at her house? Would Alexei show up at her door unannounced? She knew she should be worrying about all of this, but for right now, she was content to spend what could be her only night in her bed with her werewolf.
10
Rules of Engagement
IRINA SAT AT HER WORKTABLE, twisting coils of gold into an abstract bangle structure. This was the part of the work that she loved, turning raw bits of metal and rock into something beautiful. Despite Viktor’s protests, she’d insisted on coming into work that morning, just to assure herself that Marty’s assault hadn’t frightened her away from her domain. Of course, she had persuaded Viktor by waking him up with sex. She didn’t consider that a misuse of her feminine wiles.
Irina secured another loop of gold wire into place. The bracelet was going to be a birthday present for Franny, who’d already received earrings in this style from Irina for Christmas. This was exactly the sort of piece Papa loathed and refused to let her carry at the store. He said it would attract the wrong crowd. But he never clarified what that meant, exactly.
Outside, she could hear the booming voice of the man in question fill the showroom.
She frowned, setting her tools aside and whipping her leather apron over her head. She sprayed the wolfsbane in a cloud in front of her and stepped into it. And then she sprayed around her thighs for good measure. Papa didn’t come down to the shop often. He preferred to conduct his business in his plush home office or the backrooms of any number of restaurants on Bodden Street.
Irina straightened her hair and dusted her hands on the apron. She turned to her tiny tabletop coffee station and started some tea. Papa appeared in her doorway, a big smile on his weathered face. “There’s my bobochka. Viktor tells me you have some trouble last night.”
Irina nodded. “But I’m fine now, Papa. Nothing to worry about. Viktor will drop the engagement rings by your place later today.”
“Don’t worry about the jewels,” Papa told her, cupping his face in her hands. “As long as my most important jewel is safe, that is what I care about. And on that note, darling, I have wonderful news for you. I have spoken to Andrey, and he has agreed to marry you.”
Irina’s mouth dropped open, falling against Papa’s palm. Papa certainly worked fast. Did Galina know about this? What was Andrey thinking, agreeing to marry his secret girlfriend’s sister? Or was this some sign that the relationship didn’t mean as much to Andrey as it did to Galina? Given Galina’s relative cynicism when it came to romance, that seemed unlikely. What the hell was happening to Irina’s life? “But, Papa—”
“I assure you, Andrey is thrilled,” Papa assured her. “He has spoken of nothing but your sweetness, your beauty, what a wonderful mother you will make for his cubs.”
As soon as she got to know Andrey a little better, she was going to smack him.
“But, Papa, it’s so soon. I’m still wearing the mourning band!” Irina exclaimed. Over her father’s shoulder, she saw Viktor, standing in the hallway, his face frozen in a grim expression. Irina couldn’t breathe.
“So it will be a long engagement, at least six months. But we should spread the word soon, to cement the relationship between the families.”
Why would they need to cement the relationship so quickly, she wondered? Was he afraid that Andrey would change his mind? Was there a deal in jeopardy? Or was Papa trying to get ahead of something? The Bullet. The missing Bullet. Sonofabitch.
“You’ve already made an announcement, haven’t you?” she gasped.
For just a moment, Papa looked somewhat ashamed of himself. It passed quickly. “Nothing formal,” he protested. “I just mentioned something to your uncle Petyr.”
Irina groaned. “Uncle Petyr is like a thirteen-year-old girl! He’s going to have the news out to every major family before sunset!”
“What is the problem?” Ilya demanded, his tone more irritated with every word. “You will be marrying Andreyev anyway, so what does it matter when it is announced?”
The fire she felt while she was wrestling with Marty the previous night flared inside of her, stoked by the indignation, the desire not to be controlled. Irina was tired of pretending to be the obedient daughter. Obedience was a lie. It was the mos
t dangerous, fucked up lie of them all and she was tired of telling it.
“Papa, I can’t go through with this marriage,” she told him. “I can’t. I don’t love Andrey. I can’t marry someone I don’t love. Not again.”
“Irina, there are many factors involved in the situation, you can’t just decide not to cooperate.”
Right, the factors involved, like the fact that her slimy late husband had stolen Andrey’s drugs.
“Isn’t there some other way to settle those other matters?” she asked.
“It isn’t just that,” he said. “When I said I wanted you to be settled, I meant it. The attack in the parking lot last night, if you’d been under Andrey’s protection, it would not have happened.”
“Why? Because Andrey can provide better security than you?” Irina scoffed. “I think you’re selling yourself short, Papa.”
“No, because you will not continue to work for me when you are married to Andrey. You will be in his home, safe.”
Irina watched the pained expression on her father’s face as he said those words, and dozens of little puzzle pieces inside her head fell into place. “I won’t be working for you, because I would be part of Andrey’s family, if I married him, right? And your people wouldn’t trust me to handle Sudenko business if I am married to Andrey…because he’s Rom. He’s Rom…and he’s good enough for me to marry, but not enough to trust with your jewelry business.”
“Irina, darling, that’s not true.” Papa stroked her uninjured cheek with his thumb, making soothing chuffing noises.
“It is true,” she seethed, stepping out of his embrace. “I’m the scapegoat. Again. I’m paying for someone else’s fuck-up. Again.”
“Do not speak like that in front of your father!” Papa shouted.
“Would I be marrying Andrey if Sergei hadn’t ‘misplaced’ that shipment of Bullet?” Irina demanded, raising her voice to her father for the first time in her life. “Admit it, Papa. I married Sergei because of Alexei’s mistake, and now I’m marrying Andrey because of Sergei’s mistake. It’s my role in the family. Is that why you adopted me? So you’d have a spare daughter to throw at problems when they came up?”