Dirty Passions

by Wright, Kenya

  With Emily, it will always be different.

  An hour later, I ordered food and we lounged in my bedroom, spending the rest of the night going over more of my old times in the castle. And I was starting to realize that Pregnant Emily had a serious appetite. She ate most of the food, consuming all of her plate and even sampling some of mine.

  I loved this new hunger burning inside of her.

  Time passed.

  She fell asleep in my arms.

  And I wondered how her body would change with our baby inside of her. Those breasts would get bigger. Those hips would curve and widen. And surely, her belly would be round and full.

  I smiled as I imagined placing my hand on her stomach and feeling the baby kick. I had only done it once with Valentina. My niece had been an active little child.

  And now I will be feeling the movement of my own.

  Chapter 11

  The Funeral

  Emily

  On the day of the funeral, we all sat down for a family breakfast. Misha, Ava, her grandmother, Rolan, Valentina, Kaz, and me.

  As soon as the food came out, my stomach punched into itself. I jumped up, raced to the bathroom, and threw up twice.

  When I cleaned up and left the bathroom, I expected to see Kaz, but it was Mrs. Jones that met me at the door. “Are you okay, baby?”

  “Oh, yes. I’m pregnant.”

  With a warm smile, she hugged me. “I had no idea you were pregnant. You’re such a little thing.”

  “I’m in the first trimester.”

  “Oh yes. That’s why you can’t keep anything down. It will go away. Saltines may help. Keep some with you.”

  “Okay. I’ll try that.”

  “Stay away from eggs. That always triggered me.”

  I thought about Paris, when Natalie offered to cook breakfast for everyone. “Yeah. I’ve learned that lesson.”

  “Stick to the B.R.A.T. foods too—bananas, rice, applesauce, and toast.”

  “Okay. Never heard of that.” I made a mental note to stick to those foods, when I felt nauseous.

  “Your mother must be so excited.”

  “My mother passed away.”

  Her voice wavered. “I’m so sorry to hear that.”

  “My father too, but I’m fine. It was a long time ago.”

  “You didn’t grow up with them?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  “You’re like Ava in some ways. Both her parents passed away when she was young. I raised her.”

  “I wasn’t so lucky.”

  Mrs. Jones patted my back. “I’ll give you my number, before you leave. Call me anytime you need some advice. A new mother should have an older woman she can talk to for advice. If not, then people will be up in your air telling you all types of crazy things to do with your baby. You’ll run yourself ragged trying to keep up with everybody’s opinion.”

  She walked me back to the table, telling me stories of her pregnancy with Ava’s father.

  The breakfast continued with less drama. Luckily, I had some of Baba’s tea with me. Once I sipped two cups of that, I was able to eat a croissant and half of a slice of bacon.

  I can’t wait until this ends.

  Later we dressed and headed to the church.

  Kaz and I rode in our own limo following the long procession of cars.

  As we drove along, I began to notice these odd little structures on the country roads. They were long wood columns. Some reached over five feet. A large box sat at the top of the column. A beautifully painted model of Jesus decorated the front half of it. Flowers and prayer candles lay at the foot of these columns.

  I pointed at one. “What are those? We’ve passed a few.”

  Kaz looked out of the window. “Some are wayside shrines. Others are column chapels.”

  “Wayside shrines? Column chapels? I never heard of any that.”

  “Well, the concept of wayside shrines descended from Slavic pagans. They were little houses, which were built for the souls of the dead.” He pointed at another one as we drove by.

  I studied the new one. An elaborate crucifix sat inside a small shelter—complete with a tiny painted roof. A wood pole kept the shelter up.

  “Slavic pagans cremated corpses in order to free the soul from the body, so that the spirit could travel into the afterlife,” he continued. “There were those that wondered what would happen if the soul became tired on his or her journey. Therefore, Czech pagans set up shelters at the junction between two or three roads for the comfort of spirits.”

  “So, little spirit hotels?”

  “Pretty much. When Christianity started to become more popular, the wayside shrines took on deeper meanings and transformed into Column Chapels.”

  “Now, I’m understanding.” I gestured to all the candles and flowers on the ground. “People go here and pray?”

  “Yes. You will see a lot of these on small country roads. Some have only flat painted surfaces, while other shrines are decorated with religious statues. In Czech, column shrines are traditionally called boží muka.”

  I tried to say it, “boží muka.”

  “Not bad.”

  “Are most people religious in the Czech Republic?”

  “It’s actually the opposite. Close to eighty percent are atheist or non-religious. Here, secular funerals are common.”

  “I never would have guessed that with your Uncle’s castle.”

  “He’s not from here, and I don’t know why, but Uncle Igor has always chased spirituality. That was his favorite past-time. It was why he had so many odd things within the castle. He always looked to the mysterious of the world to give him an answer to the afterlife.”

  “Do you think that was a result of him losing his wife?”

  “It could be.” He leaned back in the leather seat and closed his eyes. “For some reason this makes me think of past funerals today.”

  I gave him a sad smile. “It’s because you’re at one. It’s hard not to think of how we’ve lost others.”

  “We still have to take care of Xavier’s ashes.”

  My stomach twisted. “We do. Part of me wants to keep them as long as I can. The other part knows that he wanted to be put in a beautiful body of water.”

  Kaz opened his eyes, took my hand, and squeezed it. “Then we will find one that is worthy.”

  “If you don’t mind me asking. . .how was your parent’s funeral. Did you do anything special in their memory? I was too young to remember my mothers. And my father never had one. Because of the fire’s intensity, all that was recovered were his ashes from the building fire. X gave Darryl, Max, and me a small ceremony in the living room. We dressed in black, ate a big thanksgiving dinner, and played jazz all night.”

  “Xavier was a good man.” Kaz looked out at the window as we passed another column chapel. “My mother had a grand ceremony. It must have been over three hundred people. She had instructed Valentina on every single detail. It was a two day affair—a ball, a feast, and even an opera.”

  “Holy cow.”

  “My mother was eccentric and liked to do things in bold and elegant ways.”

  “So, you’re a lot like your mother?”

  “I am.” He turned back to me. “My father’s funeral was very different.”

  “In what way?”

  “Although my father was a violent man, he had a best friend that he had met in jail. He was Mongolian. If I remember correctly, his name was Chingis. I never saw him after the funeral, and I was so young at the time.” Kaz ran his fingers through his hair. “But my mother thinks my father got his funeral idea from Chingis, and she always hated Chingis for it.”

  “Why?”

  “My father had a sky burial.”

  “I’ve never heard of that.”

  “In many ways, it’s not a burial at all. You leave the corpse exposed to the elements, often in an elevated location. My family left him on the top of Belukha Mountain. It’s one of the highest mountains in Siberia.”

  I wi
dened my eyes. “They just placed him on the ground?”

  “That’s what I was told. My mother was very angry. She refused to let Valentina and I go. Uncle Igor, Uncle Rolan, and many other men that I don’t remember, carried him up. Uncle Igor told me later that they chopped him up.”

  “Why did he want that?”

  “Chingis was a Buddhist and convinced about being kind to animals. For him, the body was just a shell of your spirit, which reincarnated into another shell in another life. Once that spirit left the shell, the body should be left to nourish another creature.”

  “Now, I understand.”

  “Uncle Igor said that the vultures feasted for two days. He went up each time to make sure all of my father was gone.” Kaz grinned. “Only Uncle Igor would want to go and look at a scene like that over and over.”

  “I was just thinking that.”

  “But to him the sky burial was a romantic idea. He would always think that my father died like a warrior on a battlefield. Blood spilled on the earth. Vultures and other creatures devouring the flesh.” Kaz laughed. “My mother didn’t talk to Uncle Igor for a month after that. She was so pissed that he carried out my father’s instructions.”

  “I imagine she would have had a huge ceremony.”

  “Yes. Indeed. We didn’t have the money, but she would have found a way.”

  The limo followed the line of cars toward a massive church in the distance.

  The architecture of the building had a decorative and theatrical style. Grand domes, cupolas, and twisted columns.

  Kaz gestured to the grand building. “This is the Church of Our Lady of Victory.”

  “Did your Uncle go to church here?”

  He laughed. “No. In his will, my Uncle requested a fire ceremony in the woods with thirty nude eighteen year old virgins, and seven blood sacrifices.

  “Say what?” I joined his laughter.

  “Thankfully, Misha is more conservative. He found a nice church and is having the funeral ceremony here.”

  “But will we at least get the virgins?”

  “Regrettably that is a no.” Kaz chuckled some more.

  I turned my attention back to the beautiful structure before us. “At least Misha has taste. This is a captivating place.”

  “The Church of Our Lady of Victory is known by many, especially Christians. It is a famous pilgrimage site of the Infant Jesus of Prague, and it’s one of the oldest Baroque buildings in the city.”

  “I’ve never heard of the Infant Jesus of Prague.”

  “It’s a famous carved statue. Many European Christians trek here to see it.”

  “Not bad.”

  “It’s better than the woods.”

  When the limo finally came to a stop and parked, the driver let us out.

  Kaz kissed my cheek. “I will see you later, mysh.”

  “Love you.”

  He gave me silly grin—an expression I rarely saw on his face. “Love you too.”

  It was odd how good I felt considering I was at a funeral. But Kaz and I had been through a lot, and for once, there was a bit of peace. Boris and Max met me at the side of the limo. Marijuana smoke radiated off both of them. Clearly, they’d been having a little session on their way to the church.

  Whatever. Unfortunately this funeral was probably the only vacation we would have for a while.

  We met Ava and her grandmother in the front. Valentina stood on the side, holding her little girl Natalya. Kaz’s niece was a precious sight to behold—a welcoming bundle of cuteness among so many gangsters. Those bright blue eyes studied me. She giggled, puffing up those rosy cheeks and reaching her tiny hand my way.

  Valentina grinned. “This is your new Auntie, Natalya.”

  I stepped to them. “Hello, little one. You’re so adorable.”

  “Like her mother.” Valentina beamed. “Let’s go inside. You should sit next to me.”

  Ava watched us and then stared at Natalya for several seconds.

  She must be very taken aback with this group.

  I gestured to Ava. “Do you want to come with us? You’ll be in the front row too, right?”

  Ava looked at me and nodded. “Oh. Yes. That would be nice.”

  Valentina huffed, but didn’t say anything else. However, she did hook my arm possessively with hers, as if there was some competition going on between Ava and her. Therefore, Valentina and Natalya walked on my right. Ava and her grandmother strolled on my left.

  Tension radiated off both groups. For some reason, I felt like something else was going on between them.

  What could it be?

  We entered.

  While I found the outside of the church stunning. The inside was even more striking. The ornate interior boasted an elaborate décor. Clusters of sculpted angels and painted figures crowded the ceiling. Light bathed the area in a dramatic effect. I spotted the famous Child Jesus of Prague statue. Unsurprising, the entire room held statues of other famous saints too. I wanted to take my time and explore, but this was a funeral after all—no time for gaping and gawking. We were all supposed to be in contemplation about life and mourning the deceased.

  We arrived at our seats in the front. Again, I remained in the middle of the two groups, sitting between them. Ava was on my left. Valentina sat on my right.

  I glanced behind me. Several older women packed the second row.

  Ava whispered in my ear, “Those are all of Igor’s lovers.”

  “It must be thirty.”

  Ava nodded. “He had a serious appetite.”

  “He did.” I faced the front. “What do you think about Prague?”

  “It’s fascinating. Magical at times.”

  “That’s one way to describe it. Definitely different from New York.”

  More people continued to fill the place.

  I looked back again.

  Valentina smirked at the tons of people dressed in black and crying. “Those are all of Igor’s followers.”

  “I forgot he had a little religion happening.”

  “When a man buys a castle, he thinks he’s the king. Never let Kazimir get one.”

  “Valentina, I think Kazimir already believes he’s king.”

  “But you’re showing him that he has to bend to someone.”

  “I’m trying.”

  “You’re doing a good job.” She nudged my shoulder. “If not for you, there would be no Paris. My brother can have serious temper tantrums. Worse than mine.”

  “Any advice for dealing with him in the future?”

  “Let him have his way on some things, but the most important stuff, put your foot down. And always assert your independence. If not, he’ll keep you locked away forever.”

  I nodded.

  And then the ceremony began. An organ player began a song. A woman appeared in the front with a microphone, singing notes in Czech.

  Once they were done, silence filled the sanctuary.

  Noise sounded from somewhere in the back.

  We all turned.

  Six muscular men carried in the coffin. Misha and Kazimir were among them.

  They brought it to the altar and placed it down upon the catafalque.

  I studied it. The coffin was dark stained cherry and it was perfectly polished. They didn’t open it. Kazimir told me that Igor’s body was missing. Apparently, his followers took the corpse, liquified, and drank it.

  Valentina whispered, “Misha did a good job.”

  “He did.” I gazed down at Valentina’s lap. Natalya had fallen asleep in her mother’s arms. Her small head rested against Valentina’s chest.

  Valentina noticed what I was looking at. “Are you ready?”

  “I will be one day.”

  “Get prepared soon. It’s a lot, but you’re rich. You’ll have help.”

  Nervousness hit me, but I shook it away.

  “I’m excited. A little Kazimir running around. It will be fantastic.”

  The image played out in my head. “A prince.”


  “Definitely a prince.”

  A man walked up to the altar and spoke in Czech. Kaz, Misha, and the rest of the men remained, standing by the altar.

  Valentina leaned my way. “Have you thought of names?”

  “Not yet.”

  “You should have a list. Let’s think of some right now.”

  “We’re at a funeral.”

  “But, I’m so excited. This is a happy occasion.”

  “Again, we’re at a funeral.” I tried to remove my smile as I shook my head.

  “Fine. We’ll think of names later.”

  Kaz and the rest of the men left the altar. They headed our way. Some of us scooted over, giving the men space. Kaz walked over to us, sitting between Ava and me. He leaned forward and eyed Valentina, “Stop smiling like it’s a party.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Our uncle is fine. He’s having a blast in heaven. . .or hell.”

  A woman went to the altar and spoke. Meanwhile Kaz and Valentina rudely continued to talk. I shook my head at the both of them.

  “Are you done with Paris?” Valentina asked him.

  “Not yet.”

  “Leave the pansies alone. They’re so cute.”

  Frowning, Kazimir held his hands out toward her. “Be quiet and give me my niece.”

  “Good. She’s getting heavy.” She handed the sleeping baby over.

  There, little Natalya rested in Kazimir’s massive arms. My whole body warmed from the cutest sight I’d ever seen. Had I not been pregnant, I might’ve jumped his bones this evening with the sole purpose of getting a baby. Kazimir landed a soft kiss on Natalya’s forehead and beamed. He looked completely infatuated with his niece.

  Oh. He’s going to be a good father.

  Misha came over to Ava and sat down. Despair filled his eyes. One tear showed, reminding everybody of why we were in the church. He wiped it onto the end of his sleeve.

  I thought a priest was going to stand in front of us and do a sermon. Instead, a woman with gray braids that fell to her hips strolled to the front. She wore a silver and purple robe. For thirty minutes, she spoke Czech.

  I wish I knew what she said. I almost asked Kaz, but he spent the whole time ogling his niece and playing with her hair.