Dirty Passions

by Wright, Kenya

  I shook my head. “My mighty lion? Really, Kaz?”

  I missed the mornings where he woke me up with his cock. Granted, there could be no sex for a while. At least several more days.

  After the medical appointment, the nurse had talked to me without Kaz in the room. She had explained that a miscarriage could be destabilizing, even if I had not been trying to get pregnant. That truth had made me feel better. I had felt stupid for being so sad.

  The nurse had also explained that not wanting to be intimate after experiencing a miscarriage was totally normal.

  “Give yourself permission and room to grieve your miscarriage.” She patted my hand which rested on my lap. “You may not even want to be touched, intimately or otherwise, let alone engage in intercourse. How long this grieving process takes varies greatly for everyone. It is important that you take as much time as you need to.”

  “Thank you for talking to me.”

  “You can call anytime.”

  So far, Kaz’s arms provided strength and comfort. I also enjoyed his touching me and those lips all over my skin. But at the moment, I knew my body wasn’t ready for his cock. I felt too sore. I still bled.

  We’ll have to wait.

  A knock came at the door.

  Yawning again, I said, “Come in.”

  Friedrich walked in with a large green cup. Steam rose from it. “Good morning. I was told that you were up and would need this.”

  I rubbed my eyes and sat up. “Who told you that?”

  “Mrs. . .Baba.”

  I smirked. “And this must be her tea.”

  “Yes, it is. She said the baby would like it.”

  I guess Baba isn’t crazy after all.

  Shaking my head, I took it. “Thank you.”

  When Stanly left, I had a sip. The warm liquid coated my tongue. I had to admit it’s smooth taste was a highlight of the morning. I tasted chamomile with some lemon and maybe lavender. More flavors tickled me, but I couldn’t lock them down.

  No wonder she kept pressuring me to take that damn jar of herbs. She knew I was still pregnant.

  I sipped some more, delighted in its warmth and comforting flavor.

  I don’t know, if the baby likes this, but I’m absolutely addicted.

  Drinking more, I gazed around the room. Somehow Harlem had gotten on the bed and lounged by my feet. He lay on his back with his round tummy up in the air and all four paws spread out.

  “I hope you’re comfortable over there.”

  The window was half open. The silk curtains flowed up and down with the wind. Birds chirped outside. In this moment, I felt like one of those Disney princesses.

  Once the tea was done, I set it down, headed to the shower, and got ready. The flight would be relaxing, but the stay in that castle of horrors would be a bit much. With Uncle Igor gone, I had no idea what to expect.

  Last time we arrived, they had been holding some sort of odd ceremony for Kazimir, thinking he was dead. People had worn animal masks and all types of things. Deeper in the castle, there’d been men chained and hanging on the wall. And even further, a delirious looking girl sat on the floor with her mother eating red pie.

  I hope the crazy is toned down today.

  On top of all that, there’d been a big assassination of Igor. X had been killed in the crossfire. The one man I considered my father.

  I was not excited to return to Prague.

  Everything will be fine.

  I left the shower and dressed in all black due to the mood of the trip. The full sleeved blouse had pleats at the neckline. Elegant and supremely feminine without looking like a costume. I wore it tucked into charcoal trousers that hugged my hips. I threw on some heels, knowing that in the months to come I probably wouldn’t be wearing them. Most of those pregnant women that Max and I had helped, wore sneakers on the train.

  I’ve got to get some books on being pregnant. I have no idea what to expect. No one to talk to about what to do and how to prepare.

  These were one of those times, when I wished I had a mother around to ask for advice.

  Forget that. I’m dressed. Now what?

  After that large tea, I didn’t have much of a hunger for breakfast. I also felt a bit queasy, but I knew the tea had settled it.

  I stared at the empty cup.

  “I brought my special tea, Emily. It will be good for you and the baby. Come sit. I can read your fortune.”

  I raked my fingers through my hair and headed out of the bedroom.

  Boris stood outside.

  I crossed my arms and stood in front of him. “Tell me that you didn’t stay out here all night.”

  “No. I was here until midnight and then I had two men stand guard. I got a quick nap and—”

  “No quick naps.” I pointed at him. “You need full rest.”

  “I’m rested.”

  “Boris, if you are not in top condition then you can’t protect me. You personally don’t have to stand outside my room for hours. You’re my top guy. Assign people that you trust to do it.”

  “I don’t trust anyone at the moment.”

  “But. . .when I wake up, I would love to have you by my side, refreshed and in tip top shape.”

  He nodded.

  “Are you packed for Prague?”

  “I am.”

  “Cool. Then, let’s find Baba. Do you know where she is?”

  He quirked his brows. “You want to talk to King David’s grandmother?”

  “Yep. I want to get my future read.”

  “The lion wanted you to have breakfast with him on the balcony.”

  “I will, after I’ve explored future.” I strolled down the stairs. “Where is he by the way?”

  Boris followed me. “Kazimir is in the gym boxing with King David and Pavel.”

  “I don’t think you have to call that guy King David.”

  “I like to. I respect him and it’s a cool name.”

  “Why?”

  “King David was one of my favorite characters from the bible.”

  “You’re a Christian?”

  “I try to be.”

  I smiled. “Why do you like King David from the Bible?”

  “There’s so many stories. First he started as a young shepherd and musician. Next, David slays the champion Goliath. Much later, he’s anointed as King.”

  “For some reason, I never connected that the David that beat Goliath was also King David. I thought it was two Davids, but I didn’t grow up in the church.”

  “Oh yes. Same David. But my favorite stories are when David is King.”

  “Why?”

  “I loved his love affair with Bathsheba. It was the most interesting story, while sitting during boring church service.”

  “Your mother took you a lot.”

  “All the time.”

  When we hit the bottom of the stairs, he guided me toward Kazimir’s office, passed that door, and stopped us right at another room. “She has her place here.”

  “Interesting.” I looked at Boris. “Kazimir put Baba next to his office?”

  “I heard he did it last night. The staff are gossiping about how the lion is consulting with a witch. Some are scared to go in her bedroom or new office.”

  “And this is her new office?”

  Boris nodded.

  “Really interesting.” I knocked.

  The old woman’s voice sounded from the other side. “Come in, mouse.”

  “Wow.” I widened my eyes. “She’s good.”

  “No,” she said from the other side. “I can hear you talking outside. The door is thin.”

  I laughed as Boris opened the door for me.

  On the inside, Baba sat behind a desk that looked to be constructed from birch trees. Images of birds, leaves, and insects had been carved into the wood. A brass dragonfly rested on the left corner of the desk. On the right, a crystal crucifix stood—a glittering Jesus nailed to the cross. And next to that an apple made of crimson red glass.

  Large boxes
scattered all around the room. Labels had been scribbled on them in English, Russian, and French. I read the few that had English words.

  Parsley, Sage, Rosemary, and Thyme.

  Shelves covered three walls. A large window was behind her.

  “Excuse the mess.” Baba lifted her cup and took a sip of tea. “I am still organizing everything.”

  “You had the shelves put in here? They look new.”

  “They are.”

  “You like books?”

  “No. I am not a fan of books.” She set the cup of tea on the desk. “My Baba had an old way of thinking, when she raised me. She said that writing stories down kills them. I never could get that out of my head.”

  I leaned my head to the side. “I never heard that books could kill stories?”

  “She argued that words are not meant to be stiff and unchanging things. Stories are meant to come from lips not pages. They’re supposed to tickle your ear drums.” She shrugged. “Again, my own Baba had old thinking. She also could not read so there was some bias.”

  “She raised you?”

  “Sadly, it is my family. For some reason, mothers tend to skip a generation somehow. It is an old curse. I raised my grandson David.”

  I turned my attention to her. “An old curse?”

  “That is a story that you did not come to hear. You finally want your reading?”

  “I do. I also wanted to tell you thank you for the tea.”

  “The baby loves it.” She took a sip of her own. “Promise me that you will tell him that he had a twin. If you do not, then he will forever be confused not understanding why he feels so alone.”

  I stiffened. “That sounds sad.”

  “It won’t be, if you tell him right in the beginning. Then he won’t search for something that is not there. Twins are different. Ones who have lost their other halves, even in the womb, can suffer throughout their lives, not even knowing why. If he’s prepared, then he’ll be fine.”

  “But. . .would my baby even realize it?”

  “Imagine lying less than an inch apart from another human being in a snug, enclosed space, four, six, or even seven weeks. If they were identical twins, then it is the same egg. The same sperm. The same genetic material. How could this not be the most profound experience of anyone's life?”

  “Okay.” I swallowed. “I’ll tell my child about the lost twin.”

  “Good. It would be the right thing to do. Already, you are changing his future.” She gestured at the chair next to me. “Please, sit. Boris, you can rest your feet on the couch by the wall.”

  I sat, and Boris did as she said, although he didn’t look pleased to be so far away.

  Relax. Baba is not dangerous. At least I don’t think so.

  She went into her desk, pulled out a drawer, and brought a deck of regular playing cards out. “Well. . .this is interesting.”

  “What is?”

  She stared down at the deck and shuffled. “This will be a different sort of reading. Shuffle them.”

  I picked up the playing cards and did as she asked. When I gave them back, I smirked. “Are we about to play spades or hearts?”

  “For some reason, the tarot cards did not come for you.”

  “Why do you mean?”

  “The cards pick.” Baba suspiciously eyed the ones in her hands. “These cards came out, so these are the ones we will do.”

  She shuffled some more, tapped the deck’s bottom on the desk, and shuffled again. I swore the air cracked.

  I checked one of the boxes. Paintings lay against them. The first displayed a moth sort of man. Fur covered most of him, although he wore a suit and top hat. His eyes blazed orange like firelight.

  Baba caught me staring at it. “I painted that. I heard that you are quite the artist too.”

  “I do my thing every now and then.”

  “Will you create here in Moscow?”

  “If Kaz and I can stay out of trouble.”

  “Then, let us see how we can keep you two out of trouble.” Baba set the deck of playing cards down.

  “Wait. We really aren’t doing tarot cards?”

  “No.” Baba gestured to the deck. “Pick one.”

  Confused, but still intrigued I pulled from the bottom of the deck.

  “This card will represent Kazimir to you.”

  I flipped it over. “The King of Hearts?”

  “You may be the only person on this earth that thinks of the lion that way.” Baba shuffled again. “Pick another. This car will represent you.”

  I pulled from the center of the deck and flipped it over. “Queen of Hearts.”

  “Very beautiful. You both match. Now we will go over your present and future.” She shuffled some more, lay the deck on the desk, and spread a fan of cards on to the surface. “Pick seven more. Anywhere you want.”

  I did as she requested, didn’t turn them over, and placed the cards in front of me.

  Baba pushed the rest of the fan into one deck and set it on the other side of the desk. “Okay. Let’s see. Where did your little girl go?”

  I froze. “Excuse me?”

  “Where did she go?” Baba grinned. “I was sure she wanted to stay with you, but something made her hop away.”

  I swallowed. “Can you. . .explain?”

  “The twin that you lost was a girl. She left. Do you want to know where she went?”

  “I. . .I don’t know.”

  Baba flipped the card over. “She’s with the King of Diamonds. Hmmm.”

  Okay. I was with Baba up until now.

  I glanced over my shoulder and checked Boris’s reaction.

  He shrugged.

  Baba continued. “Before your baby left, you were with a man that had diamonds. She must’ve been captivated by him because that is who she is with now.”

  “Well, I don’t know who that is.”

  “Are you sure?”

  I thought back to the past weeks. My men had been straight out of Kapotnya. None wore diamonds, not even after I’d given them a high pay and put them in suits. Kaz’s guys didn’t have them on either—too manly and rough around the edges. Gold and other fine metals, but not glittery diamonds. They would have assumed that it made them appear soft. The Brotherhood had a strict way of thinking about the concept of men.

  Yet, something hit my mind.

  It was the first few moments I was kidnapped.

  Jean-Pierre had towered over me. “Listen. I hate getting aggressive with women. Let’s not change my view tonight. Clearly, I could’ve broken your arm and tied it around your neck as a leash to drag you forward. I would rather you walk next to me.”

  I remember thinking that he never could, but I kept my comment to myself and rose.

  In the next instance, Jean-Pierre straightened and dusted off his jacket. The bastard had had the nerve to have diamond cufflinks and even more diamonds in his watch. He had really dressed up to kidnap me.

  Leaning back in my chair, I crossed my ankles in front of me. “No. That’s not it.”

  “Who? Did someone come to mind?”

  I thought about the rest of the day, during the kidnapping. Those diamonds had sparkled during our fight in the bathroom. They’d glimmered in the kitchen of his cook’s apartment.

  “No way.” I shook my head. “I don’t know who it is.”

  “Perhaps, you will figure that out one day.”

  “I don’t know about that.”

  “Let’s look at your daughter’s future. Who will she be?” Baba flipped the other card over. “Of course. The Queen of Diamonds.”

  “My loss twin daughter will be the Queen of Diamonds one day?”

  “She will.” Baba went to the third card. “And then we have your son.”

  I’m having a boy?

  “It’s the King of Hearts.” I checked the other side of the desk, where the cards for Kaz and I were—King and Queen of Hearts. “So. . .you have two king of hearts in the decks?”

  “I have whatever is there to t
ell the story.”

  “So. . .I’m having a boy and he’ll be the king of hearts while my lost daughter will be the queen of diamonds?”

  “That is what the cards say.”

  Alright.

  “Let’s look at who is around you.” She flipped over another. “Two of Spades.”

  “Is that good?”

  “No. Low numbers speak of danger. Dark cards represent death. Especially with the point of this spade.” She picked up a stick that had some sort of odd jewel on the end and tapped the jewel against the card. “Lots of blood and danger. People will not want you to have your baby or even be with Kazimir. Some lurk around you. Some are trying to distract you. Many are in this house. Others are throughout Moscow. But I am certain that all of your enemies remain in this city.”

  I stared at that spade. “How do I find out who these people are?”

  “These next four cards will give you assistance.” One by one, she flipped over all four. “These people will help you. The Joker, the King of Diamonds, the King of Hearts, and Ace of Hearts.”

  “O-kay.”

  Baba hit me with an intense stare. “These four will help you. Keep them safe.”

  “Who the hell are they?” I lowered my voice. “I’m sorry. I just don’t get it.”

  “There’s no Joker in your life?”

  I put my hand on the desk and tapped the polished surface. “Maybe, the Joker is Max. I can see that. He has my back and he thinks he’s funny.”

  Baba pointed at Boris. “I believe he is your Ace. That I am sure of.”

  I looked back at him.

  Beaming, he muttered, “I am the Ace.”

  “Okay. Max is the Joker. Boris is the Ace. I assume Kaz is the King of Hearts. He’s not letting any other king around me.”

  “Yet, there is another king around you. Here, we have the King of Diamonds again.” With the jeweled stick, she tapped that card. “Who else is near? Does he wear diamonds?”

  Another king? Who the hell? I mean. . .it could be. . .

  Jean-Pierre’s face flashed in my head.

  No. He needs to be far away from me.

  “Whoever he is,” Baba tapped the card again, “he has your lost twin too.”

  This is just fucking weird. What kind of reading is this?

  As if she heard me, she explained, “All walk away from my readings thinking I am crazy. But they all return for more. Do you know why, mouse?”