The Crown and the Key

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The Crown and the Key Page 28

by Andrey Vasilyev


  “Barefoot?”

  “You know, you’ve gotten dumber since we last saw each other. Didn’t you notice her taking her shoes off before your dance so she wouldn’t be taller than you?”

  I really hadn’t.

  “That says a lot,” Marina continued. “She didn’t want anyone to laugh at you. If she hadn’t, there would have been a clear difference between you two, and everyone would have been smiling and laughing. She wasn’t worried about herself; she was worried about you. She was flawless.”

  Huh. I must have been blind to not see that. What if I’d stepped on her foot?

  “If you’d stepped on her foot, I’m sure her face wouldn’t have betrayed a thing,” Vezhleva said, reading my mind. “That’s exactly why I’m wondering where she came from. If she were from Raidion, I’d have heard about her.”

  “Nikita brought her,” I said unwillingly. “She’s one of mine, from the paper.”

  What else could I do? She would have found out on her own, sooner or later.

  “Well, look at that. She isn’t Nikita’s kind of person, anyway—he prefers the girl, just like you,” Vezhleva said with a shake of her head. “You have quite the interesting staff over there. But, whatever, that’s fine. You can’t escape my clutches either way, and interacting with a woman like that will only do you good. That’s just less work I’ll have to put in later.”

  I had the feeling nobody really cared about what I wanted.

  “Oh, and one more thing,” Vezhleva said, snapping her fingers. “Make sure she knows not to go where there aren’t many people and to stay away from dark alleys.”

  “Are you talking about Valyaev?”

  “Oh, please. He wouldn’t do that—it would hurt his self-esteem too much. No, I saw your Vika’s face. If she’d had real bullets in her Nagant, oh, how she would have pulled that trigger without giving it a second thought. I’m serious. And what if she does find some real bullets?”

  “Really?”

  “Don’t believe me if you don’t want to,” she shrugged. “But it is what it is. You didn’t see her face, though she definitely saw yours, and it was the kind of face you neither forget nor forgive. Even if she is cheap, we all have our pride.”

  “Marina, can we skip those little remarks? I realize that’s your opinion, that even a cat can look at a queen, but I live with that woman, she’s mine, and I don’t like—”

  “Like pearls before swine,” Marina sighed. “Fine, enjoy your freedom with that idiot—I don’t have time for this right now. We’ll make a man out of you later.”

  “I’m standing right here!” She was starting to get to me.

  “Oh, look at you, getting all excited,” she said, flicking me playfully on the nose. “You aren’t just promising anymore; the Old Man himself tagged you. It’s a great challenge for me—I can get a boost for my career, and the whole thing will be great. For both of us! You’ll get my support within and outside Raidion; I’ll get to use your status since you’ll be able to take a leap forward in the very near future. It’s a win-win. We can discuss the terms of the marriage later, and even get them notarized.”

  “I object,” I said in a voice that seemed firm enough to me. “Just for the record.”

  Vezhleva laughed and walked away as Vika stepped over from the other side. She was drunk, if happy.

  “I got one!” she exclaimed, collapsing on my chest.

  “That you did…”

  The party was going strong. Some people left, figuring that attendance wasn’t being tracked anymore, while others were having fun drowning themselves in alcohol. The lights were turned up, the entertainment program came to a close, and the dances started back up.

  “Hey, what did you do with Lena?” a plastered Valyaev asked me, having left the crowd of dancers to throw himself at me.

  “Me?” I didn’t even have to worry about looking surprised. “I assumed she was with you. We haven’t seen each other since we danced.”

  He stepped closer, blasting me with the smell of vodka and menthol. “She’s mine, got it? The fact that the Old Man pointed you out doesn’t mean anything. You know how many of you there have been? Legion. And where are they all? Dust and ashes, every last one. Remember that, and don’t get in my way.”

  “Nikita, are you crazy?” I asked, feeling nervous as I realized how drunk he really was. “You’re talking nonsense. Look, over there, that’s my girl dancing to the music.”

  Valyaev eased his head in that direction to see a no-less-drunk Vika dancing in the middle of the crowd. She’d lost her leather jacket, though she had her revolver in her hand.

  “Oh, right.” He rubbed his face. “So, you don’t know where Lena is?”

  “Not at all. I swear!”

  “You’d better not,” he shot back, shaking a finger under my nose and staggering off.

  Marina could have been wrong, and he was out of control. He’ll throw Shelestova up against a wall, and that will be it. I didn’t want that, both because I needed her and…well, I just didn’t want it.

  My phone was in Azov’s office, though I’d noticed Vika take hers with her. She never went anywhere without it.

  Walking over to our table, I was happy to see Vika’s jacket lying on it. Being anal certainly has its benefits. Even with how drunk she was, she’d put her coat where it belonged. Sure, the logic she used to decide where her things belonged didn’t always make sense. You could pick up on the general idea with a little study, though.

  Her phone was where it was supposed to be, as well—in her pocket—and she had Lena’s number. She was an employee, no matter how much Vika disliked her.

  “Vika, what can I do for you?” Lena asked with some surprise.

  I didn’t hear the sounds around me, so she was apparently not in the hall.

  “It isn’t Vika; it’s me, Harriton.”

  “Oh, boss,” Lena said, different notes appearing in her voice. “I certainly didn’t expect to hear from you, and especially not from this number.”

  “My phone’s upstairs. Where are you right now?”

  “In a taxi,” she replied, a bit nervously. “What happened?”

  I exhaled in relief. “Nothing. I’m just glad to hear it.”

  “Ah-h,” Lena said. “Is my cavalier worried about me? That makes sense—he brought a ticket to the office for me and then sent a car round to pick me up. You take a girl out to dinner, you expect…”

  “Worried isn’t the half of it,” I replied darkly. “He already grabbed me and told me to give him back what’s his.”

  “Don’t give me back,” Lena said after a pause.

  “I won’t,” I replied with an ease that surprised me.

  “Excellent.” The line went dead.

  Things were looking all right. Shelestova had gotten away, her instincts good; Vika was going full-tilt, but that was fine—nobody would try anything with her there. It wasn’t that kind of place, and they weren’t that kind of people. Vezhleva, needless to say, had me a little nervous, but that was nothing I couldn’t handle.

  “Hey, Kif,” Azov called as he walked over. He was pretty inebriated, as well, though people like him can drink a whole keg and still be standing firmly on their own two feet. They don’t make them like him anymore. “Go take our girl home. She’s taking it too far—a little more, and we might have another incident like the one at the dacha. People like her shouldn’t drink at all, what with how they lose their heads. There are plenty of unsavory characters here even with my guys watching her. Everyone saw her come with you, too, so she’s more than just a drunk body; she’s a lever they can use to get to you. Remember that. Everything around you is now liable to be used by someone in their own interests.”

  “We still haven’t been able to find that rat, and now this,” I replied sadly. “Thanks for the good news.”

  “You’re the one who can’t find the rat. Don’t go lumping the rest of us in with you.”

  “Wait, so…”

  “Go get your
girl,” Azov said firmly. “Have I ever led you wrong?”

  “Got it,” I replied. I went in, grabbed Vika by the elbow when I saw my chance, and pulled her back to our table.

  “Come o-on!” she pouted. “I’m not done yet!”

  “It’s time to go home. Little Vika needs to get to bed—you’re going to need a drinky tomorrow when your head is going boom-boom.”

  “I’m not tired,” she shot back indignantly. “I sit at home alone all the time, and I don’t want to go back there. You have your stupid game. I want to have fun and—”

  “Vika, you already had the kind of fun you’re in for,” I said sternly. “Put it this way: I’m leaving, and you’re either coming with me now or going home alone later. You pick.”

  “You’re a monster,” Vika sighed sadly. “A tyrant. Nebu…Nebuchaddn…chadnez… Whatever, you know what I mean.”

  “I do. Let’s go.”

  “Boys!” she yelled suddenly. “Hey, you guys are awesome!”

  “Vika!” the Makhnovists waved back. “See you! If you’re ever around, drop by. Anarchy—the mother of order!”

  Vika yelled something back that I couldn’t make out, waved, and kept trying to dance the whole time I was dragging her toward the elevator.

  Once there, she tried to change pursuits. Something in her head clicked, a stereotype she’d probably picked up somewhere kicked in, and she tried to push me against the wall of the elevator as we traveled upward, her palm pushing past my belt.

  She clearly didn’t have much experience there, because, even though she did get past my belt, it was nearly impossible to work in the little space it left. With a sniffle, she sank down to the floor.

  “That’s okay, we’ll practice another time,” I said, picking her back up, waiting for the doors to open, and practically carrying her down the corridor to Azov’s office.

  Still not satisfied, when we arrived at the office, she started waving particular articles of clothing at me and offering a variety of delights. I felt a twinge of jealousy for Ilya, who was in for quite the viewing the next day—I was sure there was a camera filming away where we were. Finally, she settled down, collapsed on a chair, and even nodded off.

  ***

  “She’s wiped,” Alexey said with awe in his voice when I loaded Vika into the back seat. She was muttering something unintelligible. “That woman had some fun tonight.”

  “A drunk mother is a grief to her family,” I grumbled, remembering the smiles and looks I’d gotten from the girls at the reception desk when we went by. Given how carelessly I’d buttoned Vika up, I was pretty sure there were spots where things weren’t held together the way they were supposed to be. I’d spent my years learning how to take clothes off, not put them back on, after all.

  Alexey didn’t say anything, and the car headed toward the exit of the garage. Vika snuffled even harder and cuddled up to me.

  The city was once more covered in snow, and it was coming down harder and harder. It was almost midnight, there were hardly any cars on the road, and people hurried up and down the streets around us. The women were talking about how the prices had gone up for New Year’s; the men were already trying the vodka they’d gotten for their New Year’s parties, just to make sure it hadn’t gone bad.

  Girls were hard at work packing up the presents they’d been carefully storing up in a special cabinet throughout the year, while boys… No, they didn’t care about nonsense like that. They were doing the same thing they always did—for example, playing Fayroll.

  My thoughts wandered back to the game. I wonder what’s going on in there. What if the Lords of Death have gotten to my village? Or the MacPratts? The latter option wasn’t too bad since we had quite the army lying in wait. That reminds me—I need to extend my contract with the Northerners. They were there with the inquisitors, not to mention Lossarnakh and the remainder of the gelts. They can handle themselves.

  I’d picked up too many quests. Besides the clan problems and our plan to settle Lossarnakh on the throne, there was the baron and his claims on the necromancer’s territory, the bow Hassan ibn Kemal needed lying somewhere in that same territory, and the third part of the key it was supposed to get me. Then, there was the quest from the order to see who was dispatching all their knights. They weren’t the kind of people you forget about and let slide, either. They’d come knocking to remind me of my promise sooner or later.

  So much had built up, so much that was needed and important, that I had no idea how I was going to cope with it all. I needed to figure something out for Kasimov, too. There wasn’t a capsule there, and I had clan responsibilities to think of.

  ***

  “Something’s wrong,” Alexey said softly.

  The car stopped, and I noticed that we were home.

  “What is it?” I asked, looking out the window.

  It was the same as always: nighttime, the street, the streetlight, our entrance. Okay, so the bulb above the entrance had burned out, but that was normal. Or maybe it was broken?

  “The entrance light is off,” Alexey replied.

  I let him know what I was thinking, but he shook his head.

  “If something’s wrong, I need to go check it out. Don’t get out of the car. Oleg, if anything happens, you know what to do.”

  The driver nodded silently, started up the car, and turned it around to make sure it was facing away from our entrance.

  “I want…” Vika suddenly woke up and whispered what exactly she wanted in my ear.

  “You’ll have to wait,” I replied.

  “What, it’s my fault?” she asked, blinking sleepily.

  Alexey walked along the length of the car to the entrance and finally ducked into it.

  “That guy knows how to make you nervous,” I said, a shiver running down my spine.

  Oleg said nothing, instead pulling out his pistol and slipping a bullet into the barrel. Vika saw the weapon and perked up.

  “Oh, hey, I have one of those!” She dug around in her bag and pulled out her Nagant.

  “Wait, you took that with you?” I asked in shock.

  Vika was hurt by my assumption. “They gave it to me to remember the evening by.”

  “You’re kidding me,” I said, taking the revolver away and putting it into my coat pocket. “Don’t be ridiculous—toys like this aren’t for women or children.”

  “Quiet!” Oleg said suddenly. “I think I heard a shot.”

  The door to the building burst open, and Alexey plunged out. He was wobbling, one hand holding his pistol and the other holding his neck.

  “Damn it!” Oleg’s fingers paled as they tightened around the wheel.

  Alexey took five steps away from the entrance and was almost to the car, though I could see the blood leaking out between his fingers.

  “We have to help him!” Vika shrieked. She leaped for the door, though it was locked. Just then, light flooded the area around our bodyguard—several cars had turned their headlights on.

  He waved his pistol at us, giving us the order to go, and that was the last thing he did. Several bullets ripped through the chest and side of his coat. He fell to one knee, the pistol holding firm in his hand.

  Vika screamed, her hand clutched to her mouth, and the car pulled quickly away from the home that no longer felt like a castle.

  Through the dancing snowflakes out the back window, I saw Alexey collapse onto his side. Some black shadows dashed over to him.

  “Go, go, go!” Vika called piteously to Oleg in horror, though he already had the pedal pressed as far as it would go.

  I yanked the hand with the watch backward, turned back one more time, and immediately regretted it. It only made things worse for me to see the bright lights of the cars that had set out in pursuit of us.

  Chapter Eighteen

  In which our hero tries to escape his fate.

  “Oleg, someone’s following us, and I suspect they don’t have the nicest intentions for us,” I said as calmly as I could to the silent dri
ver, who had become one with the wheel.

  “I see them,” Oleg replied. That didn’t make me feel any better.

  “Who’s chasing us? Where?” an alarmed Vika asked. She turned to stare out the back window, after which she curled up on the seat next to me. It was a terrifying sight, indeed.

  “Vika, stop it,” I said, trying to cheer her up. “They won’t catch us, and even if they do, they’re looking for me, not you.”

  “But what happens to me if you’re gone?” Vika asked quietly.

  Suddenly, I felt embarrassed—I’d gotten her involved in the whole mess. If it hadn’t been for me, she’d be living peacefully and quietly without all the dubious adventures we had, one after another. On the other hand, she wouldn’t have gotten as far in her career.

  “They won’t catch us,” my Valkyrie announced suddenly. “Our driver is better.”

  The car roared, almost like it heard her, and we surged ahead.

  “Where are the police?” I asked. “There’s a chase going on right here, and I haven’t seen hide nor hair of them. Where are the flashing lights and ‘Stop your car’?”

  Nobody answered my rhetorical question. It was just a few cars driving, after all. Nobody was shooting, and we weren’t going too far over the limit. And what reason would the police have had to venture down the side alleys Oleg was taking? There wasn’t anyone to catch there like there was on the main streets. As far as the people living there, plastic windows do wonders for keeping out the sound. It’s night out, too…

  Bang, bang! Something smacked against the back window and what I thought was the trunk. I jinxed us. They were definitely shooting.

  “Damn,” Oleg muttered. “Shooting away out here like it’s nothing.”

  Vika whimpered softly. She looked really scared.

  “Bulletproof?” I asked the driver, and he nodded.

  “Excellent,” I exhaled and patted Vika’s head. “You stay down there.”

 

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