by Bree Porter
Konstantin had made sure he regretted that decision.
"And you will make these problems disappear, Anatoly?" I inquired.
He thinned his lips. "Someone needs to. We can't go on like this. It took us too long to get to where we are to have it all ripped away–"
"I completely agree."
The sentence cut through the room.
Only one man could command an entire room with a handful of syllables.
I turned and saw my Pakhan and brother standing in the doorway. He had changed from his blood-soaked suit into a fresh clean one, but he hadn't showered. The ichor remained in his hair and on his skin. It had the desired effect; the men in the room shuddered to themselves, suddenly reminded of who they served.
Anatoly realised the same time as his fellow Vory.
"Please," Konstantin smiled slowly, "don't let me interrupt." He waved a hand towards Anatoly, an almost mocking gesture to tell him to keep talking. "Come on, Anatoly. I wanted to hear what you were saying."
The brigadier swallowed. "Sir, I–" He broke off as Konstantin's smile darkened.
I had known Konstantin for a long time. We had been inseparable since we were children, spending every waking moment together and bonded by the fact we were both too ambitious to resign to an average life of mundanity. I had seen him at his best and at his worst...but looking at him now, seeing him now, sometimes I didn't recognise the man in front of me.
There was only one reason for this change in him.
Elena.
Her name wasn’t said out loud these days–especially not in front of Konstantin. But she remained in these halls. Her empty chair remained at breakfast, Anton slept with her pillow and the library stayed untouched–like we were afraid she would return and be angry we had messed with her categorising system.
Everything led back to her leaving.
At first, Konstantin had seemed withdrawn, sad even. The betrayal of Tatiana could be to blame why I didn't catch it earlier, because slowly, Konstantin became harder and crueller. His punishments had never been kind but now they borderlined on horrific. He preferred to deal with matters himself now, even interrogating lowly associates–and those interrogations often led to bloodshed.
When Olezka had found the FBI rat, a man who worked in our lawyer’s office and had been secretly sharing our legal information to the Feds, he had called me before delivering him. He had been worried about Konstantin, but I had ignored him.
Danika had interrogated him first...but once Konstantin had gotten wind of our little snitch, he had gone right away. I don't know what he said to Danika or what she had seen in his expression, but Danika had left immediately.
Some part of me wished I had followed her out.
Konstantin took a seat amongst the men. Not at the head of the table, but in between two brigadiers. Both of them looked down at his arrival, prey cowering to the predator.
"Nothing to say, Anatoly?" He inquired. "If you're going to bother everyone, you must have something to say. It is good manners."
Anatoly audibly gulped.
"If you're done..." Konstantin waved a hand towards him.
The brigadier sat instantly, the chair groaning over how fast he dropped into it.
Feodor and I shared a look.
"Does anyone else wish to volunteer themselves for my position?" Konstantin asked the room. "Does anyone think they could be a better Pakhan?"
The drop of a pin could be heard the room was so quiet.
"No?" He mused, eyes gleaming. Not with humour...but with something much darker. On instinct, my eyes went to Roksana, assessing she was fine.
Her attention was trained on Konstantin, her face filled with nothing but worry and concern.
We were past worry, I feared. Now it was time we were wary.
“If that has been dealt with, then let me take full advantage of this meeting and let you all in on a little secret.” Konstantin straightened his cuffs. “Those who ask for power never amass it.”
I heard the gunshot before I saw the gun.
With the same precision as the strike of a snake, Konstantin had fired his weapon and lodged a bullet straight into Anatoly’s head.
My boss was right. You didn’t ask for power; you took it.
My phone buzzed at the same exact moment and a discreet look let me see who had contacted me.
Only one vague message greeted me.
I’ve found her.
1
Konstantin Tarkhanov
She stood in the garden.
I glanced out the window, expecting to see nothing but overgrown bushes and wildflowers, but a lone figure caught my eye. Beneath the moonlight, still like a statue but relaxed, was my love.
It’s not really her, a voice said faraway, faint enough it could’ve been the wind.
I paid it no mind.
She looked up at me, meeting my eyes through the windowpane. Come outside, her expression seemed to beckon. Come and stand beneath the stars with me.
I was never one to deny her and accepted her summons, walking through my quiet manor and into the night-covered garden.
“Lyubimaya?” I called. “Come inside. You will get cold out here.”
She didn’t move.
I tried to approach her, but she grew further away–or maybe my legs stopped working. The distance between us suddenly seems impenetrable.
I called her name, but she didn’t respond.
“Come inside,” I repeated. “Come back into the warmth.”
Still, she did not respond.
“Come home.”
She turned to me suddenly, but it wasn’t the women I loved who looked back at me. Tatiana’s grey-blue eyes were bright with hatred, her lips downturned into a snarl.
I yelled out in fury, a wolf protecting his pack.
“You dare–!”
“Konstantin,” She said, her voice strange and deep. “Kostya, brother, Kostya–!”
Anger thundered through me, and my arm came up and swung–
My knuckles hit flesh and bone, eliciting a loud yell from the face I had connected with.
“What the fuck, Kostya?” Came the loud rough voice of Roman. He looked up at me, nose bloody. His brown eyes peered at me in disbelief, no longer Tatiana’s grey blue. “You can pay for my nose job, you motherfucker. Shit I was trying to help you–!”
I stepped back.
Sounds of the night came flooding into my senses. The wafting breeze, the music of the crickets. I could even hear the dogs pattering around and my men stalking in the trees.
Slowly, lucidness settled over me, bringing with it clear thoughts and the realization of what I had done.
“Roman.”
I had just hit the boy I had raised since he was 15 years old, the man I had trained into a warrior and considered one of my closest companions.
I didn’t respond. All I could think about was my mother.
Tarkhanova women are cursed, my father had once told me. Your mother is cursed, Natalia’s mother was cursed and so is Natalia.
Cursed with what? I remembered asking.
My father had laughed. Madness.
Some part of me wondered if perhaps it wasn’t only the women whose minds became dangerous. Perhaps my mother had given me one last gift.
Perhaps, I too carried the gene for madness and it was slowly growing inside of me, mutilating my cells and infecting my blood flow.
Would it even be worth trying to fight it?
2
Elena Falcone
Bugs died dramatically as they hit the zapper, falling to the ground as little balls of electricity.
My son watched fascinated as the insects refused to learn their family’s lesson. His green eyes lit up whenever it made a sharp zapping noise, almost like he, too, was surprised by the bugs failings.
I pulled the blanket higher over him as the cold air brushed against me.
The flicker
ing bulb of the gas station was struggling to keep the convenience store illuminated, much less the surroundings wood. The inky darkness made the hair on the back of my neck stand up.
Someone was watching, my instincts told me.
Rationality threatened to take over. No one is following you. You lost the tail days ago.
I held my son tighter.
The gas station attendant looked up as I entered, nodded in hello, before turning back to his riveting motorcycle magazine. When I caught sight of the sultry images of women spread out like eagles and tigers on the vehicles, I covered my son’s eyes.
There wasn’t the highest selection of healthy foods, but I made do. Quick easy meals that could be eaten immediately and didn’t go off filled my basket, plus some brightly colored candies my son grabbed off the shelves.
Nikolai didn’t fuss and cry like he had the first few gas station visits. He had grown used to them, even anticipated them. All day he had asked about the ‘gas saytion’–until I had agreed (in a state of irritation) to stop at the next one we passed.
It was a chance for him to stretch his legs, and more importantly, cause some trouble. Even in my arms, he tried his hardest to get a reaction out of me, from swiping food off the shelves to stealing food from the basket and putting it in the freezer. Much to his chagrin, I caught him every time.
When I went to pay, the attendant felt the need to start up a conversation.
“You just passing through?” he asked, peeling his eyes away from the magazine.
“Yes.” I grabbed Nikolai’s wrist before he could grab a candy bar.
The chatty attendant took his time scanning the items. “Not sure how safe it is to be out here travelling alone,” he said. “The woods here got a mind of their own.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m sure they do.”
He only huffed and racked up my total.
We were beginning to run low on cash. I had a solution, but it wasn’t very ethical, and I was already dreading it. But whatever it took to keep my son safe, was something I would do.
As I watched the slow movements of the man in front of me, I thought, perhaps this should be my first attempt. He would be an easy target; he was stupid and geographically miles from any law enforcement or help.
My eyes darted to the security camera positioned in the corner. It was dusty and old, but the flickering red light indicated it was alive and well.
Plus, there was the issue of my son. Nikolai didn't deserve to see his mother rob a store, besides he would only be a distraction.
My plan to fill up the non-existent coffers faded into the wind as I noticed the obstacles and we left the store. Outside had only grown colder and darker, with the woods surrounding us growing more frightening and looming as the night drew on.
"Mama," Nikolai whispered. "Who's that?"
I turned my head to where his little hand was pointing.
A second and third car had joined us at the empty gas station. Neither of them moved but instead sat deadly still in the middle of the road.
Blocking the exits.
I pressed a hand to Nikolai's head, holding him closer to me and hiding him from sight. It wasn't like they didn't know who he was or who he belonged to, but I didn't want Nikolai to see them. He deserved a few more hours of innocence–which was much more than anyone ever gave me.
Or ever gave his father.
"Shh," I murmured into his hair. "Quiet now, my wild boy."
Nikolai didn't speak but I felt his little body tighten in fear.
The cars remained stationary.
I could feel my brain furiously tumbling over solutions and rationality. If I alerted the gas station attendant, it would force the enemies into action, plus it would take a while for the police to get out to us. And what good would a few country cops do against highly-trained soldiers of Titus herself?
A thought came to me suddenly. What if they weren't Titus's men...but Konstantin's?
There's no way, I quickly assured myself. Konstantin would've come and got me himself. If he knew where I was.
I looked to my car. They had both blocked the exits and I didn't know the area well enough to endure a car race–especially with my two-and-half year old son in the backseat.
In the window, I spotted Babushka lift her head up. Her beady eyes took me in before she glanced out the rearview mirror and took notice of the newcomers. Her bushy tail swayed irritably.
One of the car doors suddenly opened, revealing a fearsome man. He stepped out, legs like tree trunks and called, "Come quietly, and we won't harm the boy."
There's no fucking way, I thought.
"Let me get my cat," I yelled back. "We can't leave the cat."
I ventured slowly to my car.
"STOP!" He shouted. He ducked his head back into the car. I heard him discussing something with his unknown teammate, their voices and words blurred, before he looked back at me. "I'll grab the cat."
"I don't think that's a good idea," I said.
The man strode towards us and my entire body tightened. Poor Nikolai probably couldn't breathe in my grip but I was relying only on my instincts now, and my instincts were screaming at me to protect my son.
"Don't move," he growled, taking charge of this situation. One of Tatiana's smarter lackeys then.
The man tore open the car door–it was old enough that the locks had become insufficient to opening it–and stretched out a hand. "Come here, you stupid cat."
Babushka lunged.
Every cell in my body sparked, filling me up with fire and adrenaline, and I ran.
I didn't head for the store or the road or the car. I went straight for the woods. The dark green flora that looked like something out of a Grimm's fairy tale, and here I was, the naive princess running straight into its embrace.
But I wasn't the princess; I was the witch.
Nikolai cried out in surprise as I took off. He clung to me tightly, his little head resting in the crook of my neck.
Men shouted from behind me and their footsteps grew louder over my shoulder, the earth giving way as they tore through it. Twigs snapped, leaves crunched, but I did not stop, did not even consider slowing my pace.
If they got us, they would kill us.
They would kill my son.
A leap over a log sent pain ricocheting through my knees to my back. I had lost the spriteness of my youth when I had given birth to Nikolai–and my bones reminded me of this now.
I sucked it down, refusing to let it slow me.
Rationality took a hold of my brain. I wasn't going to be able to outrun these men, especially not tree-trunk legs.
I needed to hide.
Trees blurred as I pumped my legs, but a sharp left took me clattering to the ground. I twisted, forcing my back to take the brunt of the fall, my grip on Nikolai not faltering for even a second. Air left my lungs and pain spurred through my ribs.
"Mama?" His little voice piped up in fear.
"Shh, shh." I dragged us to the side, tucking us under a log. The moist dirt soaked my jacket, and a stick of bark was jabbing into my back, but I didn't move.
Nikolai squirmed in my arms, but I held fast.
"Do not move."
The shouts of the men neared, and my son slackened in my grip. Their footfalls echoed through the earth as they bolted past us.
But they didn't spot us tucked away in the dark, shivering from the cold and clinging to each other like we were each other's lifelines.
Soon the forest quietened around us, the only sounds our rasping breaths.
"Mama?"
"Yes, baby."
"Where's Baba?"
I squeezed my eyes to hold back the sudden flood of emotion. "She'll find us," I said. "Don't worry, baby. She's fine."
Nikolai looked around, eyes darting around the dark. "I don't see her."
"No, you won't. She's not here. But she will be soon." I rubbed his back. "Mama needs to make
a call."
"To Baba?"
"Cats don't have phones." I fished out my phone, fingers shaking in both anticipation and cold. I had memorised the number to protect us both instead of saving it into my phone.
It rang.
And rang.
The beep sounded, indicating to leave a voice message. His familiar voice said, "You know what to do."
Nikolai lifted his head, eyeing the phone but amazingly didn't speak.
"Hey, it's me." I breathed after the tone. "Titus found us. I'm on the run. I don't know where..." I pressed a hand to my mouth, overwhelmed by the sudden emotion. There were so many things I wanted to say, wanted to express but the words felt stuck in my throat. "If something happens, promise me you'll take care of him. Promise me."
Nikolai reached out and pressed his thumb to my cheek. "Mama, you're crying."
I was. Tears had begun to spill over my cheeks.
“I’m fine, Nikolai.” I held the phone out to him. “You need to look after this, okay, Nikolai? Listen to me, this is very serious. You need to keep this with you at all times, yes?”
“Okay, Mama.”
“Okay?” I tucked the phone into his jacket, securing it in place. If they didn’t find me...they would find Nikolai. Oh God, please let them find my son before she does.
I brought Nikolai to my chest, his little head resting against my heart. Soot and dew stuck to his hair and dirt stained his shoes and pants. I tried to brush the earth off him, but it didn’t change the fact that both of us were still filthy and would be filthy for many days to come.
When my son fell asleep, his little arms clinging to me even in his dreams, I sorted through what we had. A phone, food from the gas station, and the keys to the car we would no longer be needing. We didn’t have much cash but there wasn’t exactly an abundance of outlet malls in the woods we could spend it at.
The sound of rain grew heavier as the night wore on, the droplets breaking through our shelter until my hair was soaked. I undid my jacket and wrapped it over Nikolai, preventing as much water reaching him as possible but it left me shivering and covered in goosebumps.