Empress of Poisons ARC

by Bree Porter

  “But you’re staying, right?”

  I won’t ever leave again. “I am.”

  Ever since I had spoken those words to Konstantin, I had been locked in a suffocating stalemate. Not because I regretted them–no, in fact, I had felt pure euphoria as I had said the words. My entire heart had eased knowing that there was no heartache for us in the future and that I got to stay with my family for many decades. My son would stay his family, and I would stay with him.

  It was Konstantin who was keeping me stressed. I don’t know what I had expected but I knew I had expected more. I had thought my words would ignite our past love once more, would bring us back together over the ocean of time and pain.

  Instead, Konstantin had nodded his head and said, “I’ll let Nikolai pick which room he wants.” I had been too emotional to truly absorb his lack of reaction until afterwards.

  Why hadn’t he invited me back into his bed? Why hadn’t he taken me in his arms and declared his intentions?

  Had…had he changed his mind?

  My entire body prickled at the thought. Now that the chase was over, was Konstantin no longer interested? He had caught his prey–what did I had left to interest him with?

  Stop thinking stupid things, I told myself sharply.

  I looked down to my arms. The words were faded against the olive skin, but I could still make them out.

  ...you are the most beautiful creature that has ever walked the earth...

  ...all the languages in the world could never find a term to do you justice...

  ...describing you commands one’s entire mouth and an essay of idioms...

  ...you have been a creature of love your entire life...

  These were not the words of a man who had lost interest. Besides, Konstantin had just finger-fucked me in public…surely, that meant something.

  Maybe it was my turn to hunt, to make the first move. Maybe I was the predator and–

  The bathroom door opened, the clacking of heels filling the quiet space.

  “Elena, Danika, it’s been too long.”

  Her voice echoed throughout the room, silky and accented.

  I snapped my head to the side as my brain filled with denial. It can’t be, it’s not her, there’s no way she would dare–

  Tatiana stood by the door, dressed in a blush pink dress that she had matched with a large fascinator with flowers dripping over the sides. To the casual onlooker, she looked like a wealthy woman attending the races.

  But her smile made her stand apart from the crowd. The smug curl to her lips was nothing but pure evil.

  It had been three years since I had seen her, when she was been clutching her bleeding stomach and promising revenge on us all. She had changed slightly, her cheeks bright with health and her stomach no longer swollen with a baby. She didn’t look like the mad villainess I had painted in my mind. No horns, no fangs. Just a beautiful woman with a very dark heart.

  “Loss for words?” Tatiana stepped forward, each movement slow and purposeful.

  Thoughts raced around my head. Where’s Konstantin? Where are the guards? Why is she here? Who is she after?

  Them or you them or you them or you.

  “What are you doing here?” I hissed.

  Her teeth flashed as her smile grew. In her elegant movement, she swept off her hat, revealing her golden-brown locks. Thank God, Anton doesn’t look like her, a stray thought said in the back of my mind. “Is that anyway to greet an old friend?” She inquired.

  Danika grabbed my wrist, squeezing it tightly. She was scared–not of Tatiana. No, the little interrogator was scared of what she might have to do to her. “Where are the guards?”

  Tatiana’s expression didn’t flinch. “Don’t worry about them, Danika, worry about yourself.” Her blue-grey eyes roamed over the pair of us. “You’ve both changed and yet remained exactly the same. Though, Elena, you look a little tireder these days.”

  “It’s called being a mother.” I bared my teeth. “Don’t you remember?”

  A shimmer of anger passed over her face. “So volatile,” she muttered. “But I suppose you’ve always been so, haven’t you? After all, you did kill your father.”

  Danika frowned. “What is she talking about, Elena?”

  I felt my molars grind together as I reined in my temper. “Why are you here, Tatiana?”

  “I won’t stay long.” She mused. “I just came to speak to you. Unfortunately, I want you alone.”

  I yanked Danika back as soon as I saw the glint of silver beneath the fluorescent lights. The bullet was too fast to see, but the impact shattered the room.

  I heard her cries before I saw the blood.

  Danika hunched over–I grabbed her before she hit the ground, my own cries rising up fast in my throat. I couldn’t hear anything, feel anything. Some instinctive part of me was reaching forward to try and help. Blood soaked my skin as I put pressure on the wound. It trickled down my wrist and arms like red paint.

  “You bitch!” I realised I was screaming. “Why would you do that–!”

  Tatiana crouched down beside us, holding the gun lazily. “I want to speak to you alone, Elena.” She sounded so calm, so casual.

  “You raised her.” I hissed. “You fucking raised her, and this is what you do? Hurt me but don’t touch them!”

  Danika’s eyes were fluttering close.

  “Hey, hey, no, no, stay awake.” I shook her cheeks, slapping her into consciousness. “Stay awake. You’re okay. Danika. Stay awake.”

  Tatiana regarded me. “How much you’ve changed,” she murmured. “Ah, well. Nobody can change that much, can they?”

  “Get out.” I spat. She flinched when I got her, wiping her cheek in disgust. “Get the fuck out.”

  “Not until we have a little talk.” She aimed the gun at Danika’s forehead, a deadly shot. “Now, shh, Elena. Or else the little interrogator never wakes up again.”

  Danika let out a raspy breath, eyes pleading. “I...I don’t–want to go.” She breathed. “I...I’m not r-ready.”

  I smoothed down her hair with a spare hand. “You’re not going anywhere. You’re staying right here.” I snapped my blazing stare to Tatiana, letting her see all the vengeance and hatred that raged inside of me. “I’ll kill you. I swear I’ll fucking kill.”

  Tatiana smiled. “Such savageness. Which leads me to the topic I wanted to discuss with you.” I hated her, I hated her–“I want to offer you a job.”

  “A job?”

  Even Danika turned her head.

  “A job.” She confirmed. “This world isn’t for you, Elena. You’re too wild and violent to ever be accepted by these men. I’m going to create a new world–and it has a place just for you.”

  I let out a shaky breath. “What do you mean?”

  “You’ll work for me as my lead scientist. You can go to any college you want, and no man will dare question your expertise. Can’t you just picture it? Dr Elena Agostino, famous scientist and unstoppable woman. You’ll write books, lead research and never have to succumb to a man again.” Tatiana reached over and gently grabbed my wrist. “Come work for me, Elena, and you’ll never have to bow again.”

  “Except to you.”

  Her lips twisted. “Do I look like some self-conscious man to you? I do not need you to bow–only to help me change the world.”

  A hand twisted around mine. I looked down to see Danika’s band aid-patterned hand covering my blood-soaked one.

  I squeezed her back gently.

  “What do you say?”

  I met Tatiana’s eyes. “You’re a bitch and I will see you in hell.”

  She pursed her lips. “Such a pity. You could’ve been something more than a Pakhan’s whore.” She rose to her feet, sending Danika a pitying look. “Both of you could’ve been something more.”

  “You could have, as well. So much more.”

  Tatiana laughed. “I am something more. I am everything more.” Sh
e turned, heels clacking as she went to leave. Before the door closed behind her, she looked back at me, eyes all-knowing. “Let me know if you change your mind, Mrs Falcone.”

  I didn’t have a second to process her parting words. I leaned over Danika, tearing off the ends of my skirt and using it to soak up the blood. The red ichor stretched over her yellow dress, blooming like a rose against her stomach.

  Danika’s eyelids grew heavier.

  “Help!” I screamed for anyone, for anything. I couldn’t leave her, couldn’t take my hand off the wound– “Help, please!

  I shook her. Her brown eyes narrowed. “Stay awake, you hear me? Do not go to sleep, Danika. Do not fall asleep.”

  She smiled sleepily.

  “Dani, I’m serious.” I turned my head to the door again and cried out for help. My throat scratched with pain as I got louder and louder.

  Danika’s head got heavier, lolling to the side.

  “Hey, hey!”

  “Tell him...” She whispered. “Tell… Roman.”

  “He’s not here. You have to tell him yourself.” I slapped her but she didn’t budge. Her eyes closed peacefully, her breathing becoming shallower and shallower–

  “No, no, no.” I scrambled to my feet. The blood pooled out the wound as soon as I took pressure off. I slipped on the floor, crawling to the door. “Help! Help!”

  A stray patron noticed me with a blue fascinator and her eyes popped open when she saw me crouching in the arch of the door, covered in blood. Her screams joined mine, catching the attention of more people. I heard someone saying something about an ambulance.

  A familiar shout rose in the air. Roman burst from the crowd, shoving people into the ground. His face went as white as sheet where he saw the red ichor.

  Roman is here, my instincts soothed.

  I crawled back to Danika, pressing my hand against the waterfall of blood.

  I rested my forehead to hers as the bathroom filled with noise. Tears slid down my cheeks and onto hers.

  “Please, Danika. Please.” I whispered. “Please, please, please.”

  I heard his voice as he stepped into the bathroom and then felt the world shatter as his roar tore through the air.

  “No! No!” Roman skidded over the blood, his knees hitting the ground with enough force to dent the tiles. He crawled to her side, begging with the universe and God and whoever would listen. “Oh, God, no. Dani, baby, wake up, baby, please–”

  I watched as he brought her onto his lap, his cries piercing the room. I felt like I was standing at million miles away, a casual onlooker on the tragedy that was unfolding.

  “Danika, wake up!” He was screaming now. “Wake up! Baby, I’m here–I’m right here. Please, don’t leave me. Don’t leave me without you.”

  Strong arms came around my back and Konstantin crouched down beside me. He wiped my hair away from my face and thumbed away the tears dripping down my cheeks. “What happened, lyubimaya?”

  I clung to his voice like a raft in a storm. “Tatiana.”

  His jaw tightened but his touch remained gentle. “Is this only Danika’s blood?”

  I nodded.

  “Okay.” Konstantin cupped the back of head. He turned and barked orders in Russian, tone changing from the caring one he had used with me to the tone of a king giving commands.

  Time moved in a blur as Vor flooded into the room. Whenever someone tried to approach Danika, Roman swiped and roared, nearly shattering a soldier’s kneecap. He was dragged away–fighting and screaming–so someone could gently pick-up Danika and leave with her. Konstantin held me to his side, supporting my weight more than I wanted to admit. Faces melded together as we left the hippodrome, and voices became a rush of sound.

  The next time I found myself in a moment of lucidness, I was standing in a bathroom. Konstantin was rubbing my hands with soap, his soothing voice running over my arms and neck.

  My baby. I want my baby.

  I didn’t realise I had spoken out loud until he replied, “I’ll bring Nikolai up when you’re clean.”

  My head grew too heavy and I dropped it onto his chest. His warmth surrounded me as he held me close, the thrum of his heartbeat the only detail I could focus on.

  “You’re okay, Elena.” He murmured.

  “Danika.”

  His arms tightened. “She’s in surgery.”

  My insides were tearing apart in agony, my heart was caving in. I could feel her blood on my hands, hear her crying out that she wasn’t ready to go just yet.

  “I can’t take this.” I whispered. “I can’t take all this pain.”

  Konstantin pressed his lips to the top of my head. “You can and you will.”

  I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to feel like this.

  Make it stop, make it stop.

  A new word came skidding into my brain. Despair.

  Konstantin helped me into bed, wrapping me up in the blanket. He whispered something to me before disappearing. When he returned, Nikolai was with him.

  “Hop into bed with your mother,” Konstantin was saying.

  Niko crawled to me, burying himself deep in my waiting arms. He asked me what was wrong, then talked about his day with Evva. Eventually, his voice trailed off and little snores began to fill the room. I held him to my chest like I used to do when he was an infant, soothing him to sleep with my voice and heartbeat.

  “Go to sleep, Elena.” Konstantin said. He was sitting in an armchair beside the bed, eyes dark like the shadows. “I’ll keep you both safe.”

  “He used to sleep like this when he was a baby.” The words came out of me on their own accord, like my co-pilot was now running the show. “On my chest, his head against my heart. He wouldn’t settle in the crib, or with the babysitter.”

  “That sounds nice.” Konstantin’s voice was strange. Almost…jealous.

  “Only my arms…” My voice grew weaker and weaker. “He would only sleep in my arms.” Before my sentence ended, I was swallowed into the land of nightmares.

  I dreamt of my father leaning over Danika’s bleeding body. He was holding a bouquet of foxglove held together by a black ribbon. When he looked up at me, he smiled, revealing his toothless mouth.

  What do I call you, daughter? His words were gurgled speech. Dr Agostino or Mrs Falcone?

  23

  Elena Falcone

  I woke up alone.

  My first thought was: Nikolai didn’t wake me up. Which was quickly followed by: Nikolai didn’t wake me up.

  My eyes snapped open as I sprung upright. The room was completely empty, not even Babushka lurked in the corners.

  I realised immediately: This isn’t my room.

  There was no pile of books on the bedside table or toy trucks scattered around the floor. No little shoes or dirt tracks or vases of wildflowers. The room was clean, neat, with the only sign of personalisation the family photographs on the wall and green tie hanging loosely over the armoire mirror.

  I was in Konstantin’s room.

  The rational part of me argued that we already knew this fact. After all, it was Konstantin who had washed my bloody hands the night before and watched over my son as I had slept–or so my memories told me. I hadn’t realised we were in his bedroom, in his nest.

  I looked down at the sheets, my mind suddenly filled with images of Konstantin stretching over the silk, his naked form unfurling after a long day of work. He would rest his arm over his eyes, taking a deep breath, causing the muscles on his chest to tighten and loosen. I could head his deep groans; picture the hand he would take to cup his cock–

  My entire body heated with embarrassment and desire.

  I was daydreaming like a horny teenager who had a racy magazine stuffed beneath the mattress and bedframe.

  To avoid any more stray thoughts, I slid out of bed, wrapped the blanket around myself like a huge shawl and went in search for my son. My first instinct wasn’t to panic, but I did move quickly out
of the room and into the hallway on my quest to find him.

  It didn’t take long.

  Niko’s laughter came from Konstantin’s informal study. He didn’t sound like he was in distress or searching for his mother. He sounded…happy.

  I peeked through the crack in the door. In hindsight, I wish I had taken a moment to collect myself, to recover from the emotional night before because the scene that laid before me brought a fresh set of tears to my eyes.

  Konstantin was sitting at his desk, Nikolai beside him, their blond heads gleaming in the growing sunlight. Whereas Konstantin had a laptop and documents in front of him, my son had a colouring book and array of colourful pencils.

  It was clear immediately that Nikolai was copying everything Konstantin did, from the shift in his chair to the tilt of his head. When Kon reached for a new pen, Niko reached for a new crayon. When Kon took a sip of his tea, Niko chugged his juice box.

  Seeing them together like this…so relaxed and happy, not only did it make it obvious how much they looked alike, but it also reminded me how much Niko had missed out on. How many mornings with his father had I taken away from him? How many memories did I steal away from my son?

  My chest cramped painfully.

  It was Babushka who revealed my position. She meowed loudly from where she was nestled on the bookshelf, causing both my boys to lift their heads and spot me.

  “Mama!” Niko grinned.

  “Good morning, my wild boy. Did you sleep okay?” I stepped into the room, trying to shrug off Konstantin’s gaze.

  He nodded, eyes alight. “I did. Did you sleep okay?”

  I smiled. He had repeated my question in the exact same tone I had delivered it to him in. “I did. I dreamt of you.” A little lie but one I would rather than the truth.

  “I dreamed of chocolate.”

  I nodded sagely and reached the desk. “Chocolate dreams are very important.” My eyes darted to Konstantin. He was leaning back in his chair, watching us. “How did you sleep?”

  “I haven’t yet.” He smiled at Niko, who grinned back. “Hopefully, I dream about chocolate, as well.”

  What do you dream about, Konstantin? I felt tempted to ask but remained quiet.