Empress of Poisons ARC

by Bree Porter

  “She’s far from home,” I noted, not showing my surprise. Why was Natalia here? She had plans to take over Russia–which was hard to do when you were an ocean away.

  “Did she tell you she was coming?” Artyom asked.

  Elena watched me out of the corner of her eye.

  “No, she didn’t.” I cupped the back of Elena’s head, bringing her closer. Thoughts of how she felt around me, muscles contracting and warmth radiating, threatened to consume me whole. If I let them, then audience or not, I was having my Elena here and now. “This discussion is over.”

  “No, it’s not.” Was her sharp reply.

  26

  Elena Falcone

  Natalia Tarkhanov stood in the foyer, now a beautiful 20-year old woman. Her long blonde hair was in two braids, the girlish hairstyle failing to dim the cunning that laid in her eyes. When she turned to look at me, slyness curled her lip but the laugh she let out was light and youthful.

  Tarkhanovs, I couldn’t help but think.

  “Natasha,” Konstantin said affectionately as soon as he saw her. The two embraced.

  Together, Konstantin and Natalia did look striking. Their height matched with the champagne blonde hair and deep brown eyes made them look almost like identical copies of each other, if Konstantin had been a woman and thirteen years younger.

  Natalia spotted me instantly.

  “Elena,” her accent caressed my name like we were long lost friends. “I’m so happy to see you.”

  “You, too.”

  She surprised me by wrapping her arms around me in a hug. She was oddly cool to the touch, just like the cold-blooded animals she favoured.

  “You’ve grown up,” I commented. “How are you bugs?”

  “They’re well very well, Auntie Lena,” she crooned.

  My brows furrowed. “I’m not your auntie.”

  Voices sounded from behind us, the high-pitched chatter around sand and tag told me who it was.

  I looked over my shoulder. “Niko, come say hello to your cousin.”

  Nikolai came bouncing over to me. Evva and Anton followed closely. All three of them were covered in dirt, with twigs sticking out their hair and spiderwebs caught on their clothes. I almost laughed at the state of them.

  “Niko, meet Natalia. Natalia, met Niko.”

  Niko, ever the charmer, gave Natalia a big rosy grin. “’Ello.”

  She stood still for a moment, staring and processing, before she leaped forward. “Cousin!” She leaned down and kissed him on both cheeks. “I’m so excited to meet you, little Tarkhanov heir! You and I–” Natalia softened her voice, convincing Niko she was sharing a secret “–are siblings in arms. The next era of Tarkhanovs. We will do great things together.”

  In response, Nikolai stuck his hand into his pocket and pulled out a handful of mushed blueberries.

  “Oh, God, Niko. You’re going to stain yourself.” I muttered.

  He offered one to Natalia.

  She didn’t even flinch at the smooched nature of it. Just popped it into her mouth and grinned. “Thank you, cousin.” Natalia kissed him on both cheeks again. “Do you like spiders?”

  Nikolai nodded vigorously.

  “Oh, he’s perfect, Elena!” She rose to her full height and wrapped a bony arm around me. “I was so worried Uncle Kostya would knock up some idiot woman and I would have to kill my own cousin to protect our lineage, but no, no! He has exceeded my expectations.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “Watch how you speak around my son.”

  Natalia looked thoughtful. “No one ever censored themselves around me but for you, Auntie Lena? I will make an exception.” She looked down to Nikolai. “Murder is bad, Kolya. Don’t do it.”

  Luckily, Nikolai was too invested in the berries in his palm to listen to Natalia.

  Konstantin sighed. He had been standing off the side, watching Natalia meet her cousin. “I love you, Natasha, but Nikolai is not even three. Watch your mouth.”

  “I know, I know.” She laughed. “Apologies.”

  “And I am not your aunt.” I corrected. “Konstantin and I aren’t married. Besides, I’m only six years older than you.”

  Her eyes twinkled. “Not yet, maybe. But soon.” She petted Nikolai’s head. “Kolya, come with me. I bought something from Moscow I want to show you, yes?”

  “Kolya?” I asked Konstantin as they disappeared further into the house, Evva and Anton hot on their heels.

  “His Russian nickname,” he replied. “Natalia’s is Natasha, mine is Kostya. It is used to show affection and intimacy.”

  “I see.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “She’s grown into quite the woman. When is she taking Moscow?”

  “Soon,” Konstantin replied. “She’s been...hesitant.”

  That surprised me. “Natalia? Hesitant? That isn’t something I would usually associate with her. Is she being hesitant or patient?”

  “It remains to be seen.”

  I cut him a look. “We need to revisit what we were talking about earlier.”

  “I think I’d much rather prefer to revisit what we were doing earlier.” His eyes gleamed in the light of the foyer.

  A flush rose up my cheeks at his meaning. I could still feel him inside me, the press of him against my inner flesh. When had had to untangle from each other like Christmas lights–and from the disgusted look Artyom threw our way, he had known exactly what had been happening beneath my blanket.

  I wasn’t embarrassed. Everyone knew that him and Roksana had done worse.

  “You know that’s not what I’m referring to.”

  Konstantin slipped his hands into his pockets. “Why are you so dead set on this, Elena? I have made how I feel clear.”

  “I’ve made how I feel clear too,” I sniped. “I’m the only with any semblance of a plan, Kon. It’s been three years and not a single one of you have gotten close to her.”

  A muscle in his jaw twitched. The argument was grating on him. “She is active now, Elena. She will fuck up and we will be there to catch it. Eventually, we will defeat her.”

  “How long, Kon? Another three years? Should I leave and come back with a six-year-old?”

  He sent me a dark look. “There is no way I’m letting you risk your life.”

  “I have the best plan and you know it. You hate it but you know it.” I tapped a finger to my temple. “Who else do you think weighed the pros and cons, the problems and solutions? I have answers to questions you haven’t even asked.”

  “It is not your intelligence I doubt, Elena.”

  “Clearly it is.” I snapped. “You let Roman help you against Tatiana. Put us up against each other in a spelling bee and see who wins.”

  “And if I put you up against each other in a fight?” Kon inquired. “Then who would win?”

  “Tatiana prefers brain over brawl.”

  His laughter danced off the marble and plaster. “Power is not giving to you at the end of a quiz, Elena. This is not a world that values the brain, but one that values violence. If anyone tells you different, they’re lying.” He added, “I have deep respect for your genius, Elena. You know I do. But you’re smart enough to know the world orbits the sun coated in the blood of innocents.”

  I didn’t back down. Kon was right–this was not a world that valued intelligence, especially smart women. I had known that my entire life.

  But this world was shaped by men.

  Tatiana was no man.

  If you wanted to beat a woman, you had to fight like a woman.

  I had lots of experience, more than any Vory of the Tarkhanov Bratva. I had been fighting like a woman since my first breath.

  “I’ll beat her, Konstantin. I’ll keep us safe.”

  “And if you don’t?” He asked. “If she wins? What will you have me tell how son when he asks why his mother has not returned?”

  Leaving Nikolai...It hadn’t truly crossed my mind. Separating from my baby was like pee
ling the skin off my bones. But to keep him safe? I would make a bonfire of my skeleton.

  Like he heard his name, Nikolai came bumbling back into the foyer. Konstantin and I stopped our conversation, not risking our son overhearing anything.

  “Mama, Mama, look!” Nikolai laughed as he bounded over. He held out his palm, revealing a dead cockroach in the center of it.

  “No!” I smacked it out of his palm. “We do not pick-up dead animals.”

  “Why ever not?” Natalia came floating out of the dining room. Evva held her hand but had no bug of her own.

  Nikolai looked at the fallen cockroach, crestfallen. I heaved him up onto my hip, almost tipping over with how big he was getting.

  “I don’t want him getting sick, Natalia.”

  “Cockroaches are actually very clean,” she told me. “It is a myth that they are disgusting.”

  “I don’t think it is.” This came from Danika as she entered the room. She stopped beside Natalia and threw her a charming smile, showing it was all in good fun. “They look gross.”

  Nikolai showed his cousin his empty palm. “Uh oh.”

  “Uh oh, indeed, Kolya.”

  I took him into the kitchen to help him wash his hands. God forbid he put them into his mouth with the remnants of a dead cockroach left on them. Konstantin remained in the foyer, speaking in a low voice to his niece.

  Niko was upset with me for getting rid of his ‘new friend’ and made a show of wriggling in my arms until he was using me as a lever to lean as far away as possible.

  Any other bug would’ve been completely fine. Preferably alive, but I could make exceptions. All bugs except cockroaches.

  I sat him down on the bench and washed his hands with soap. He put up a fight until I coaxed him with bubbles. Eventually, he obeyed even if he did try to eat some of the bubbles.

  I sighed and turned off the tap, towelling his hands dry. “What are we going to do, my wild boy?”

  Nikolai smiled at me. “Wash my hands.”

  Some part of me crumbled beneath his innocence. Nikolai had no knowledge of Tatiana or her wickedness. He didn’t know his father and I were fighting over his future–and the future of his family. In Niko’s world, his hands needed to be cleaned and they had been. Simple and efficient.

  “We’re done. You’re free.” I kissed him on the cheek, breathing in his baby scent. “I meant about everything else.”

  He held up his hands. “I dunno.”

  “You don’t know, mm?” I tickled his belly and he leaned back, giggling. “I was relying on you to have the answers, baby.”

  “Dunno!” He repeated.

  “Yeah,” I laughed but sobered as I said, “I dunno, either.”

  When we came back out to the foyer, Evva was hiding behind Konstantin’s legs. He had a comforting hand over her head.

  The reason Evva was hiding was because Natalia had a golden yellow scorpion in her palm. It’s tail curled upwards, the claw catching the light.

  My son went towards it immediately.

  I grabbed his shoulder but couldn’t help my own curious self-asking, “What type of scorpion is that?”

  Natalia was happy to answer my questions. “A deathstalker. But I call her Lada.”

  “I’m not going to ask how you brought that into the country.”

  She smiled. “Let me worry about my business, Auntie Lena. Do you want to hold Lada, Kolya?”

  He started forward but it was Konstantin who dragged him back. “My three-year old is not holding a scorpion.”

  Nikolai’s jaw dropped. “Why not?” He whined.

  “Yeah, Kostya, why not?” Natalia repeated.

  He sent his niece a warning look–the harshest I had ever seen him with her. Natalia fell silent but her saccharine smile told me she hadn’t given up.

  I joined Kon in telling Niko it wasn’t safe and that you should only touch scorpions if an adult says it’s safe. “Either Mama or...” I trailed off before the word dad. Niko hadn’t said it, Kon hadn’t said it. It felt like an elephant in the room, one we were doing a terrific job at ignoring. “Either me or your father.”

  Natalia rose her eyebrows but restrained herself from saying something.

  Dinner that night was filled with laughter and joy. Natalia told us elaborate stories of her adventures back home, detailing all the parties and people she met–with some adjustments for the sake of the toddlers. She answered all Niko’s questions about bugs excitedly, the two bonding over their love for the outdoors.

  After the meal, we parted ways. The children wanted to run around outside so I packed them into their winter coats and set them free on the grass. Natalia and Roman joined them, kicking around a ball and throwing them into the air.

  Konstantin was pulled away into discussions about Tatiana, but he pressed a kiss to my forehead as he went. “I’ll see you later,” he said.

  “And we’ll finish our conversation.”

  He didn’t reply but his expression told me what he thought about my persistence.

  Konstantin was king, the Pakhan. His authority and decisions weren’t to be questioned. But I wasn’t one of his little Vory or canine guardians, if I wanted to say something I’d say it. The man I loved could bite but I had fangs too.

  A ball went flying into Roman and he doubled over in pain as it hit its target. For a second, I thought he might vomit but then he yelled, “Who kicked that!”

  Natalia and the children scattered, their laughter piercing the night.

  He wobbled over to me, collapsing on the grass by my feet. “Got me right in the dick,” he grumbled. “Right in the fucking dick.”

  I crouched down beside him, showing both my amusement and empathy. “Aw, you were taken down by a toddler.”

  Roman glared at me, hand still cupping his balls. “Fuck off, sister.”

  Sister. I held the word carefully in my mind like it was a baby bird in my palm. Three years ago, Roman had called me sister for the first time. It was the first time someone had ever expressed enough love for me to give me a familiar title. From Roman, it was a term of endearment and a sign of proof about how he had accepted me into the family.

  Growing up, my cousins had never treated me like a sister. I was the weird awkward girl who could do the older kids’ homework and came to dinner with twigs in her hair. I didn’t care for them either, to be fair. They were boring and dumb, pretending to be scary because they were big–I had a body count before elementary school. I wasn’t afraid of any of them.

  “Have you forgiven me for leaving?” I asked.

  “I forgave you the moment you leaped from a tree onto Konstantin like a big cat,” Roman said. His dark eyes glinted in the darkness. “You’re my family. I love you no matter what. Even when you’re acting like a bitch–which is always.”

  I turned my head to hide my smile. “I never thanked you.”

  “For what?”

  “For believing me when no one else did. Not even Konstantin.”

  It was Roman’s turn to look away. We were both thankful to the night for its darkness–we were able to hide our wet eyes and trembling bottom lips.

  Droplets began to fall from the sky. Soon the ground was slick with mud and we were soaked to the bone. The children didn’t run inside, instead drawing dirt on their faces like war paint. Roman and I joined them in their game of tag, racing around the garden until we looked more like swamp monsters than humans.

  In a trickster’s move, I scooped Nikolai into my arms before he tagged Evva. He cried out, laughing too hard to say anything. I cradled him in my arms like I used to do when he was a baby.

  “Are you happy?” I cooed.

  He stopped laughing, his eyes bright like a pair of stars. “Yes, Mama. I’m happy.”

  26

  Elena Falcone

  The sun bled over the sky in pink and gold as the new day began. I curled up beneath the window, book in lap. The words had been forgotten in excha
nge for watching…not the beautiful horizon waking up but instead Konstantin and Nikolai. They slept peacefully as the room began to lighten, Niko’s head resting in the crook of Konstantin’s arm. Both worn identical expressions, and both had bedhead. They had never looked so alike.

  Home.

  The word sat in my mind like the bulb of a flower, blooming every time I saw my son and the man I loved.

  Home, home, home.

  I was finally home.

  Konstantin’s eyes peeled open, the dark irises latching onto me immediately. A slow sleepy smile grew over his face.

  “How long have you been up?” He grumbled as he rubbed his eyes.

  I leaned my head against the wall, affection warming my chest as I watched him. “Just for a few hours.”

  “You didn’t wake me?”

  “And risk interrupting my peace and quiet?”

  “Cruel woman.” Konstantin lifted his head, spotting Niko asleep in his arms. His entire expression softened, looking at a son with such love and devotion that I fell in love with him all over again that quiet moment. “He’s drooling.”

  “He was snoring before.”

  “Little devil.” Kon kissed him on the head before carefully moving his arm. Niko didn’t stir as his father rolled out of bed, just burying himself into the warm space left behind.

  “You’re not tired?”

  He approached me. I tilted my chin up he looked down at me, the air leaving my lungs as his presence loomed around me. Tattoos gleamed in the golden light, the images of knives and scars and serpents looking more menacing.

  I pressed a kiss to his chest, right over the head of a snake.

  Kon ran his fingers through my hair. “Let’s go outside,” he said softly.

  “It’s too cold.”

  “I’ll keep you warm.”

  I thought back to the dawns before I had met Konstantin. The cold had never bothered me, most days I could hardly feel it. I could feel the chill now, feel it wriggling into my bones as the dew melted off petals in the morning light. It’s funny–almost like learning to love, learning to care more about myself, also allowed me to feel the cold…and feel warmth.