Karolina Dalca, Dark Eyes

by M. R. Noble

  “No! There’s someone still there.” He headed to where I just left.

  I dragged him toward the door, just in time to see Roman’s silhouette in the doorframe.

  “It’s go time,” Roman said.

  Andre fought against me, this time using Roman’s werewolf strength. “There’s one more!”

  Roman grabbed Andre underneath the arms. With our combined strength we schlepped Andre out into the light of day. The festival attendees had gathered in the street to assist the people we saved. I looked down to Andre’s hand to see what he held. He had the set of deer antlers, which had belonged to the blonde doe who flashed the men outside the van. The one who was dead. He fought against me to go back inside.

  “She’s gone!” I said. “The other vampires drained her before I even got there.” I lost my grip on his arm.

  He hung his head in his hands and crouched to the ground. For a second, he looked like he’d be sick. “Fuck!” He exploded upward and whipped the deer antlers against the wall. “Damn it!” He walked forward into the crowd. “Let’s get out of here.”

  Roman and I followed, and the three of us rushed into the camouflage of the onlookers.

  “Where’s the van?” I said.

  A black van beeped and appeared through the swarm of people. The door of the van gaped half open. Tod hit the gas when I still had one foot left on the ground. Andre hoisted me in and slammed the part of the door that still remained shut. We sped off into the winding alleys.

  “What were you guys doing?” Tod turned his head to Roman. “No time to be heroes when you’re on a schedule!” He mocked Andre’s voice. “Those are your words! Precious Cargo, Tod! No stops, Tod! The wolf goes running off, and next you guys have set a building on fire for a crowd of people to see!”

  “We.” The image of the blonde girl flooded my head. “Those people would have been drained dry by vampires if we didn’t help them.”

  “Do you know who they work for?” Andre asked.

  “Their leader said it was the First Command’s blood stock for the Harvest Festival.”

  Tod squeaked and veered the van off course, sideswiping the narrow backstreet wall for a millisecond. The side view mirror flew off and clattered onto the street. We all grew silent, letting Tod regain control.

  “Harvest Festival? Was it not the celebration today?” Roman asked.

  “No,” Andre said. “Today was a bit of a pagan tradition, The Autumn Equinox. The Harvest Festival is October first.”

  “Guys!” Tod made another sharp turn.

  “What?” Andre asked.

  “Did you let any of the vamps escape?” Tod asked.

  I looked around the van. “Why?”

  Tod accelerated. “Because we’re being followed!”

  An engine roared behind us. A jarring impact sent the van skidding onto two wheels. The metal on the other side of the van peeled back, producing a fire show of sparks as it scraped along the wall. Our bodies jolted forward and then slammed back against the seat. Roman took the wheel.

  “Hold it straight, Tod!” Roman bellowed.

  Andre looked to the back. “Punch it!”

  “I already have!”

  The engine revved again behind us.

  “Then turn!” I cried out.

  “They’re coming in again!” Tod turned the wheel, but Roman stopped him.

  “Not yet!” He’d leapt out of his seat to hold the wheel with Tod. “Hold it straight when they hit.” Roman turned over his shoulder. “Hold!”

  The van jolted from the impact and skidded forward. The squealing of tires on pavement echoed through the alley over the noise of the engines. My hands flew to my ears to shield from the screeching, which didn’t stop. I looked to the back of the van. A large black SUV had fully collided with our trunk and was still driving full speed behind us. I turned to the brick wall ahead. “They’re driving us into the wall!” I screamed.

  “Tod!” Andre cried. “Get ready to turn!”

  “There’s no place to turn!”

  “There’s a small lane on your right!” Andre pointed over Tod’s shoulder.

  “It’s too small!”

  “Do it, Tod!” Andre shouted.

  “You got this, Tod. You’re a bad ass!” Roman inched closer to take over the wheel completely if he failed.

  The wall flew to us.

  “Now, Tod!” Andre screamed.

  Tod turned the wheel into the mouth of the hidden laneway. We soared sideways. The noise of the van’s roof crunching inward popped my ears. The screeching of tires and a large crash echoed behind us. I waited for a tangled mess of steel to cave in and crush me, but the moment never occurred. I opened my eyes. We drove down a brown brick tunnel, which looked more like an oversized storm drain.

  The large SUV was stopped at the end of the tunnel, much too tall to come after us. Pieces of the vehicle littered the ground, and smoke rose up from its crumpled hood. The driver, when he no longer had our van as a buffer, had collided with the wall once we’d turned. I looked again at the crumpled front end of their vehicle. “They’re not going anywhere.”

  Andre leaned in beside me. “No, princess, they’re not.”

  “Way to go, Tod!” Roman shouted.

  The tunnel opened to a highway on the other side of the town. Tod slammed on the brakes and swerved up the shoulder of the road. The van fishtailed out into the highway. The scenery was a drastic change from the old town of brick buildings and narrow streets. The highway ran along green hills which lined the base of the mountain. We had to be directly opposite to Sochi now. I anticipated the view on the other side of the mountains would be bland. I was wrong. The tall stone peaks rose up, high above an evergreen forest. Mist poured down the slopes and spilled into the land, whiting out the road ahead.

  “How long to Kislovodsk?” I asked.

  Andre leaned back in his seat. “Forty minutes,” he said and glanced down at my chest.

  My ripped bra and top were hanging loosely and flapped in the breeze of the torn door. “Give me a second, everyone, while I get changed.”

  Tod and Roman looked ahead. Andre looked out the window.

  My next set of lingerie was a black and baby pink number. Only a man would pair a thick lace bra with a thin tank top.

  A hint of a smile touched Andre’s mouth in the reflection of the window glass.

  “Yes, I’m wearing what you picked for me,” I muttered. “I have no choice.”

  Andre leaned into my ear and whispered, “I’ll replace your boots again too.”

  I pulled away. Men who liked to clothe women fit into one of two categories: men who like to control their women, or men who give gifts to obtain the affection of women.

  Roman looked back at me after I’d pulled on a new pair of jeans. “Do you feel the essence of the wolf wearing off?”

  I bit my lip. “Not really.” Worry turned my stomach like an eggbeater. But as the minutes drawled on, I felt the adrenaline fade from my body. As did the tingle of the tracking spell. I would soon be vulnerable again.

  It felt like only a few songs on the radio had passed by the time we drove by a sign which said Kislovodsk. The eggbeater in my stomach turned on again full blast. I traveled over an ocean, a sea, and miles of land to finally arrive here. I retrieved the piece of paper from my pocket and unfolded it. Kurortniy Bulevard 14, Kislovodsk 357700, Russia. I read the address over and over and studied the unknown handwriting until my eyes strained.

  As we drove deeper into the city, I noted the street signs. Kislovodsk was a stone city. The buildings oozed nineteenth-century charm. Smooth rock set into intricate patterns made up the main streets. Any spare piece of land was covered with unruly flower gardens. Tod turned onto a street checkered in a pattern of cream and pale yellow stone. I looked out the window to a sign which read Kurortniy Bulevard.

  The street numbers slowly ticked down to fifteen. I closed my eyes and thought of Grandpa Dalca. His memory rallied my courage. We approached a pale
stone building which looked like the set for an old romance movie. It stretched out four blocks long, with arched windows facing the street. Sports cars lined the strip. The walkways were filled with people, who dressed to show their wealth. I looked at our clothes, which smelled slightly of sea water.

  Our crumpled van squealed to a halt in front of the main entrance. Directly outside my window there was a plaque mounted on a pillar. The number fourteen written in gold inlay glittered in my face. Andre and Tod had taken me to the address in my emergency box.

  Above the covered entryway, there were big letters mounted on the roof above the entrance. I strained to recall my Russian History class. Piece by piece, I translated the Cyrillic letters in my head, then Russian to English.

  “The Grand Hotel,” I said out loud.

  Andre took the piece of paper from my hand. “You won’t be needing this anymore.” He ripped it up.

  “No,” I said. “I guess I won’t.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Home Away From Home

  Roman and Andre turned to each other. Tod tapped his fingers against the steering wheel and looked at the hotel.

  “What?” I asked.

  “As fun as our power swap was, I want my body back,” Andre said.

  “Is there anything we can do to trigger the change?” I asked.

  Roman produced his keychain out of his pocket. “I don’t know how to use it other than the way we already have.”

  “Right,” Andre said, “take my hands.”

  Roman recoiled in his seat as Andre leaned in.

  “I’m not going to bite, wolf. I just need to access my power.”

  They clasped hands. Andre closed his eyes and within seconds a golden light hovered over his skin. The light snaked out to Roman, just as a heavy cloud of smoke puffed from Roman’s chest.

  “What the hell.” Tod scrambled up against the door but didn’t abandon the van. I didn’t know if he stayed out of loyalty to Andre or fear of attracting more attention to the stolen vehicle.

  The light and smoke swirled around us, expanding into the crevices of the van. I couldn’t see through the smoke to see if pedestrians saw us. With vacuum-like pressure it sucked inward to both men with a whooshing sound. The air around us was once again clear. Andre and Roman fell back into their seats. They were glassy-eyed and panting but appeared to be within their own skins once more.

  “Not too shabby,” I said.

  By the time we got out and rounded the van, Andre was gone. Tod snapped at us to wait on the street and got back inside the van. A new pair of boots were delivered to me. The battered vehicle rattled to life, and with a painful screech drove from the drop-off point and out of sight. The gilded doors of the hotel sparkled in a come-hither manner.

  I emerged from the doorway, not into a room, but into a foreign realm of pure luxury. That which could glitter, glittered gold. The crown molding, the chandeliers, mirrors, tables, and candlesticks all sparkled in the bright afternoon light. Footsteps tapped against the marble floor, adding to the low, sultry music playing in the lounge. Guests chattered amongst the velvet drapes and upholstered furniture.

  I locked eyes with a woman in the back of the room. Anger flared in my belly, until I realized her blonde hair and blue-eyed features were just akin to Bronwyn’s. She stood behind a desk in a black uniform with gold buttons down the front.

  “Dobro požalovat.” Another woman wearing the same uniform handed me a flute of champagne.

  “Thanks.” My gaze drifted to the buffet spread, and I almost dropped my glass when I saw a stuffed leopard mounted to a stand in the middle of the table. I walked over to the cat. It stood with one paw lifted amongst the platters of caviar, its eyes frozen in place and its mouth wrenched back exposing its fangs. I downed my champagne.

  “I said to wait.”

  I turned and found Tod behind me. Roman followed him, holding a glass of champagne in each hand. With a little gesture of cheers, he shot down the champagne, and coughed when he saw the leopard.

  “Sorry,” I said. “What now?”

  He led us to a corner. “We wait.” With his back to the wall, he watched the doors.

  Poor Tod. Andre had coaxed him into being our wheelman, and now the van he borrowed was totaled.

  “So…how did a nice kid like you get all caught up in this vampire business?” I asked and got an eye roll from Tod. “I ask because your accent sounds almost Canadian.”

  “I’m American.”

  “Oh yeah? How’d you get here?”

  Tod stuck out his chin. “My parents owed a debt, so they paid it with me. They didn’t want their perfect little lives disturbed by my presence.”

  “Oh. I see.” It seemed like lots of people made a habit of owing Loukin a debt.

  Tod brooded in the silence.

  Roman jumped in. “You did great today, Tod.”

  “A compliment from a wolf is about as rewarding as a broken fang,” Tod said.

  Andre entered the room. He made his way to our corner, giving greetings to people along the way. One woman trailed a finger across his chest as she passed. When he joined us, he removed some gold paper wristbands from his pocket.

  “This is so the staff can tell you’re special guests,” he said. “Now you have full rein of the hotel. Follow me.”

  “Full access,” I said to Roman. I shouldn’t have been surprised by the privilege. Andre had said he was Loukin’s top man. He led us through one of the arched doorways, and we wound through the crowds of people. We descended a staircase with crimson carpet down the center. A set of doors encased in stone loomed at the bottom. As we drew nearer, I looked up at the charmed carvings etched in the stone. They were worn and covered with layers of dust which only time could produce.

  Andre rapped the brass doorknocker and a sliding panel opened to reveal a set of eyes. He and the anonymous man whispered in Russian and the metal clicked loudly on the other side. The heavy doors swung open.

  Andre’s hand blurred out in front of Tod blocking his path. “Not yet, mini-me. Your time will come.” Tod glared at him, but paled when he caught the bouncer’s attention. He backed up and headed into a passageway I hadn’t seen.

  We squeezed by the bouncer who ran a hand over his lumpy bald head. Our footsteps echoed down the hall which stretched upward into a ceiling of carved stone roses. Vines wound in mounds around chandeliers which dangled crystals in the low light of their bulbs. Sun angled in from slit windows, illuminating long patches of the creamy stone floor.

  Three quarters into the room there was a lineup. People spoke softly as they waited. Every moment or so, the line shrank. Only as we merged with it did I clue into the shuffling of feet behind us.

  I turned and saw two young men with a small brunette.

  Andre tensed. He stepped forward into the line.

  Roman and I followed behind him and waited.

  The two men in front of us whispered back and forth between quiet laughs. They looked to be around Andre’s age, which on the outside, was early twenties. One held the arm of the small woman they were with. Another brunette. She stood with a clenched jaw and nostrils fuming. She tugged her arm back, testing the hold of the man.

  I stepped out and looked at the people ahead. The men all ranged in their looks. Their ages maybe between late teens and early thirties. The women, however, were all petite with dark hair, dark eyes, and fair to medium skin.

  “Andre,” I said. “Why do all these women look the same?”

  He drew me to him and whispered, “Don’t say anything about yourself.”

  “Andre!” One of the men ahead of us turned around. He ran his hand through his sandy blond hair which poofed up in the middle from the short choppy sides. His friend snickered, like a joke had been told. The woman with him glared and spat out some words in French.

  “Where did you find this one? Let me guess?” the blond asked. “She’s a townie whore from some dirt stop in the north.”

  I recoiled. Not from hi
s obvious intent to get under Andre’s skin, but from the fact he’d spoken in English to insult me as well. “I’m from Canada,” I said, “and your flat-top haircut is older than the woman you’re with.”

  His dark-haired sidekick turned to Andre and burst with laughter. “Canada! You think Aleksandr’s lost daughter hid in Canada!”

  Aleksandr. My father’s name was Aleksandr.

  The woman on his arm spoke in broken English. “I not the daughter you seek!” The toe of her strappy sandal flew out and nailed him in the shin. She tried to run free, but he dragged her backward.

  “That’s exactly what you would say if you were her,” he said.

  “I’m Karol—” Andre held his hand over my mouth.

  Roman nodded to the woman. “Where’s she from?”

  “Paris,” the blond said. “We tracked down a lead on a woman in Paris two years before Aleksandr was assassinated.”

  “When it comes down to the underground spy game, Andre, you’re always going to be on the D-list. But hey, baby,” the brunet grabbed between his legs, “if you ever want to find out what the A-team is packing, you know who to see.”

  The woman wormed away again. Her cries of pain shrieked out as she was yanked back to the brunette man.

  Roman straightened up in front of him. “You tug on her arm like that again, and I’ll break yours.”

  He took a whiff of the air close to Roman. “Wolf!”

  The blond shot in front of Andre and me in a blur of vampiric speed. “You’re pathetic. Now you’re using wolves to fight your battles?”

  My skin heated. It was like booking the flasher in my internship all over again. Only this time, I didn’t have to abide by rules of the law. I yanked at Andre’s hand on my mouth and was puzzled to find him using his full strength to keep me from talking.

  “You there!” A uniformed man stalked over, dressed similarly to the women upstairs. My senses noticed the smell of human blood on him, before my eyes found the dark stains on his dress jacket.

  “What’s going on here!”

  “Andre thinks he’s found Aleksandr’s lost heiress. We explained we had her, and he tried to start a fight. It’s okay, we understand when you’re a bottom of the barrel snake, you’d do anything to change your position, including executing your own. Which is why no one will work with you.”