by Dima Zales
Golem falls to the side.
Koschei rushes toward me, but Golem races at him with the three remaining limbs, like a wounded Terminator.
In a heartbeat, a metal arm clutches Koschei’s ankle.
Koschei uses the ripped-off leg like a club, delivering a devastating blow to Golem’s head.
Adrenaline overrides pain as I crawl toward the shotgun with renewed determination.
The sounds of robot being torn apart intensify.
I crawl faster.
The sounds stop.
I’m a foot away from the weapon when rough hands roll me over, slamming my damaged back against the marble.
I yelp in pain.
Leering, Koschei grasps my neck with one hand and lifts me into the air.
Chapter Fifty-Five
Sadistic pleasure gleams in Koschei’s green eyes as he watches me dangle in front of him.
His grip on my neck is cutting off all air and crushing my trachea.
Based on my encounter with drowning and my training for a water escape, I know I don’t have much time.
Desperately channeling all my martial arts lessons, I aim a punch at Koschei’s face with my right fist.
My knuckles connect with his jaw, and my hand feels like I broke it.
Wincing, he tries to smack me with his free hand.
Just as Thalia had taught me, I block his blow with my right forearm. Something cracks, but I ignore the pain and punch him with the left fist at the same time as I kick with my legs.
Face contorted by an ugly grimace, Koschei squeezes my neck even harder. I think he intends to break it in order to speed up my demise.
Leaning in, he whispers, “I didn’t think I’d enjoy this so much. You’re—”
I’ll never know what he was going to say because I choose that moment to attempt one last gambit.
Just as I’ve practiced so many times for my needle-swallowing effect, I spit out the needle from Buyan, aiming for the bastard’s right eye.
The needle goes into Koschei’s iris like an icepick into Jell-O—and as soon as it does, the still-exposed part of the needle begins to glow.
Chapter Fifty-Six
Letting go of my neck, Koschei roars like a wounded bear and drops to his knees.
Falling to the ground on all fours, I grit my teeth against the agony and crawl for the shotgun.
Koschei’s screams intensify.
Using all my remaining strength, I pick up the weapon.
Koschei’s Mandate aura seems to be flickering.
I put the shotgun point-blank against the needle protruding from his eye and squeeze the trigger.
Half of Koschei’s head disappears, and glowing needle shards spread through the rest of his body.
“This is for Rose,” I hiss and put a hole in his torso. “And this for Kevin.”
I shoot until the gun clicks empty, and Koschei is lying prostrate on the ground.
The shiny needle shards seem to absorb what remains of his aura; then his body turns into ash in front of my eyes.
A second later, the ash disappears without a trace.
Staring at the empty spot on the floor, I toss the now-useless shotgun away.
Wait a minute. An empty shotgun was in Kit’s hand in my vision, so does that—
“Poor Koscheiushka,” Baba Yaga says from behind me as something hard slams into the back of my head. “Not so immortal after all.”
I just got hit by a giant skillet, I realize dimly.
This is how I ended up in the heap on the ground in my vision.
And then all my thoughts go away as my consciousness dives into blackness.
Chapter Fifty-Seven
I wake up to pain.
Horrible pain.
My head feels like my brains are leaking out, and my back is one giant spasm.
But on the plus side, I’m not dead—though I almost wish I were.
Opening my eyes, I find myself cradled in the arms of an orc, being carried out of the Izbushka restaurant.
“Kit,” I croak out, then wince as my ribs scream in protest.
“You’re alive,” Kit’s orc voice booms out. “Keep it that way.”
“You were there,” I rasp out, “right after Baba Yaga knocked me out with that skillet. Then you turned into a drekavac and killed her, didn’t you?”
“How did you—”
“Probably a vision,” Felix says in our ears. “Sasha, I’m so glad you’re okay. I hope you don’t mind, but I texted Nero when Baba Yaga was killed. He asked me to do it. I believe his limo was parked just out of reach of Brighton Beach, waiting for her death to be rid of the contract so he could swoop in and help.”
The pain makes it difficult to parse Felix’s words.
Kit exits the restaurant, her uneven stride a torture for my broken body.
Vlad is lying on the sidewalk, already looking better. Lucretia is still holding down writhing Ariel.
A limo screeches to a halt next to the curb.
Right.
Felix mentioned a limo a second ago.
The driver’s door opens, and Nero jumps out with supernatural speed. A familiar-looking woman exits from the passenger side.
She’s the one I bumped into on the way out of the office.
Now that I’m not running, I recognize her as Isis—the healer with prices only Nero could afford.
Pain makes it hard to think, but I still wonder what Isis was doing walking into Nero’s building just as I was running out. Did he summon her ahead of time? That would make him more psychic than I am. Also, it would imply that he knew I’d escape my cell. But if that’s true, why not stop me? And how could he have—
“Put her in the back,” Nero growls. “Carefully.”
Kit picks up her pace, and everything hurts so badly I stop thinking and pray to pass out.
The agony grows almost intolerable when Kit places me on the seat.
I must have countless broken bones, or worse.
“You’ll have to quadruple the usual rate,” Isis tells Nero after she gives me a quick scan. “This is going to hurt me a lot.”
“Fine,” Nero says without a moment’s hesitation. “Hurry.”
Isis demonstratively sighs, then points her hands at me.
The golden energy streams out, and I feel my wounds closing and broken bones straightening.
When she healed us the other week, Isis’s skin had a healthy olive tint. Today, she’s paler, and the more of her energy she sends out, the sicklier she looks. Before my very eyes, a couple of her jet-black hairs turn gray.
A pleasant warmth flows through me, and my pain morphs into pleasure.
“Make her sleep,” Nero commands.
“Wait,” I say, reaching into my pocket to pull out the smoke grenade. “Throw this into the restaurant and have Vlad toss in his firebird egg.”
Nero takes the grenade, removes the pin, and tosses it at the glass above the door.
The glass shatters into tiny pieces, and a few breaths later, the fire alarm activates.
“Do it,” Nero commands, looking at Vlad on the pavement. “Erase this place.”
Grunting in pain, Vlad takes out the firebird egg and pitches it inside the restaurant.
My lips curve in an evil smile as I watch the Izbushka go up in flames.
“An hour nap will do you good,” Isis whispers, shooting me a stronger pulse of her energy.
“Wait,” I want to say again, but my eyelids grow heavy and I sink into a healing sleep.
I open my eyes to find Nero holding me above my bed.
Nero in my bedroom?
“This must be a dream,” I mutter as he gently lays me down.
“Yes.” His deep voice is a croon. “This is just a dream.”
“I like dreams like this,” I say dazedly and grab his collar. “Are you sure it is a dream?”
Nero doesn’t reply, but his limbal rings almost overtake his eyes.
Pulling on his collar, I raise myself up so t
hat our lips nearly touch.
He doesn’t pull away, but he doesn’t lean down either.
That’s fine. All the healing energy roaming through my body is giving me an almost superhuman strength—and the libido of a succubus.
Easily lifting myself the rest of the distance, I lock lips with Nero. They’re surprisingly soft, his breath vaguely minty-tasting—
Someone clears her throat nearby. “Is this why you wanted me here?” Isis asks. “Because I’m not sure I have enough strength left to heal her if—”
“No.” Nero reluctantly pulls away from me. “Finish your job.”
The healing energy makes my lids heavy again.
“Sleep tight,” Nero says from far away, and the warm energy leaves me no choice but to obey.
Chapter Fifty-Eight
I wake up to the feeling of something furry snuggling at my chest and back.
Wait, chest and back?
I lift the blanket.
Yep. There’s something furry on both sides.
A cat and a chinchilla.
“Good morning,” Fluffster says in my head.
“Hey, bud,” I whisper back.
Lucifur looks at me with green eyes that seem to say, “If you wish to keep your intestines, vassal, you will cover me with that blanket at once.”
I cover her back up, happy to see her doing better.
“How are you feeling?” Fluffster asks, standing up on his hind legs. “I heard you got really hurt.”
Swinging my legs off the bed, I examine my body for damage from last night.
Nothing.
No, much better than nothing.
“I feel like I’ve been on a two-year vacation,” I tell him. “With spa treatments, cabana boys feeding me grapes, white sand—”
“Sasha?” Felix yells from outside the door. “Fluffster tells me you’re awake.”
I give the traitorous chinchilla a narrow-eyed stare. “What if I wanted to nap some more?”
“It’s one p.m.,” Fluffster replies without remorse. “You’re lucky Nero excused you from work; else you’d be so late, you’d lose your job.”
“He excused me from work?” I say, perhaps too loudly. I vaguely recall a wet dream that was stranger than usual, as it featured Isis in addition to Nero.
Wait a sec. Could that kiss have been real?
If so, what did Isis mean by her weird comment? She almost made it sound like I’d need healing if we got it on.
And that leads to a question I never thought I’d ask about my boss.
Exactly how big is he?
“You’re talking about Nero?” Felix says from behind the door, and I feel my cheeks start to burn. “He said you can come back to work when you feel up to it.”
“Nero is being nice?” I push all thoughts of phallic sizing aside. “I must’ve been hurt really badly.”
Neither Fluffster nor Felix say anything, so I get up and look for something to wear.
“We’re in the kitchen having lunch,” Felix says as I pull on my robe. “Join as soon as you can.”
With a post-healing bounce in my step, I rush into the bathroom and quickly take care of business before heading to the kitchen.
A whole chorus of voices greets me as I approach.
“If I were you, I’d always make myself look like one of the Batmans,” I hear Ariel say. “Or at least like Christian Bale.”
“No, you should look like one of the Matrix characters,” Felix counters. “Particularly Neo.”
“I get bored looking the same way for too long,” Kit says as I walk in.
“Sasha!” Ariel puts down her fork, jumps up, and gives me a tight hug. “I’m so glad I caught you before I left.”
“Left?” I take in her appearance. Leave it to Ariel to look ready for a cover shoot, even after yesterday’s ordeal. “Just checking—you’re not under glamour anymore, right?”
“No. After Gaius died—” She stops talking, her expression turning somber.
Is she actually mourning Gaius after everything that he’s done? I’m tempted to ask but suppress the urge.
She probably needs some time to come to grips with it.
“She came to her senses an hour after we got home.” Felix gets up, grabs an empty plate, and walks over to the stove. “Now, thanks to Nero’s healer lady, she’s almost as good as new.”
“And I decided to go back to rehab.” Ariel’s face smooths out as she sits back down and resumes eating what looks like Felix’s famous Mushroom Stroganoff.
I take a seat as well.
“Kit and I will take her to Gomorrah as soon as we’re done.” Felix puts a plate full of Stroganoff in front of me, then hands me a fork.
“So.” I stare down at the food, unsure how to best put my question without insulting my friend or bringing up any painful memories. “Did Gaius—”
“I don’t think I drank any more of his blood,” Ariel says, her face unreadable. “Or anything else like that.” She gathers a large pile of noodles on the edge of her plate, then stabs them all at once with her fork. “The cravings are much more tolerable now. I feel almost like a normal person again, which is why I think I should get away from temptation and get fully clean. Besides, Bailey’s dream therapy is helping me with other stuff…” She puts the fork in her mouth, then starts gathering the noodles into a big pile again.
Felix and I exchange furtive glances. This is as close as Ariel’s ever gotten to admitting her PTSD—which is great progress in and of itself. If I ever meet Bailey, I’ll have to thank her.
“I’ll go with you guys.” I spear a heaping serving of Stroganoff with my fork. “Just let me finish.”
“Sorry, but no,” Felix says without meeting my gaze. “Nero asked me to make sure you take it easy today.”
“Nero isn’t the boss of me,” I say. “Neither are you.”
“Well, strictly speaking,” Felix says. “He is your—”
“Just chill at home for a bit,” Ariel says conciliatorily. “Nero might hurt Felix if your bodyguard sees you leave the building.”
Fuming, I stick the fork in my mouth and chew violently.
“Speaking of Nero,” Kit says and makes herself look like my boss, only shirtless. “He, Vlad, and I made a deal that concerns you all.” She turns into a shirtless Vlad. “If the Council ever learns about all the murders we partook in—and that’s an unlikely ‘if’—Vlad will assume responsibility for it all, even Koschei and Baba Yaga, if you catch my drift.” She looks at me with Vlad’s piercing eyes.
I finish chewing and swallow. “This is so that I don’t get into trouble for killing Koschei, a Cognizant under the Mandate, and same for you and Baba Yaga?”
“Exactly,” she says. “It’s just a precaution because no one should even realize they’re dead.”
“Oh?” Felix says curiously.
“Pada visited the burned-up restaurant, cleaning up the remains,” she says. “And I’ll use my powers to make sure all the dead blip on the Council’s radar from time to time.” She briefly makes herself look like one of the Enforcers Vlad killed on the pier, then even faster like Gaius, Koschei, and Baba Yaga.
Seeing the last two sends a shiver down my spine, even though I know it’s just Kit. I’ll have to talk to Lucretia about this.
Assuming new vampires do therapy, that is.
“We can make it look like Baba Yaga and Koschei took a trip back to Russia,” Felix says excitedly. “I can even create an electronic trail.”
“That’s good,” I say with a grin. His proposal reminds me of a magic effect, and nothing cheers me up like designing a good deception. “Gaius also could move someplace. Then, in a while, a rumor could spread about how they all went on a trip to an Otherland with a weird time flow.”
“That could work.” Kit’s sneaky expression rivals mine. “Vlad and Lucretia already glamour-wiped the memories of the surviving humans, but we can have them go back and implant memories consistent with this story. Same with any human cops look
ing into this.”
“I’m sorry to interrupt the fun, but I’d really like to get going.” Ariel puts down her fork. “Even that casual mention of vampires…”
“Say no more.” Felix stuffs the rest of his food into his mouth, and Kit follows suit.
“We’ll be back soon,” Felix says, getting up.
“When you see Lucretia, can you please thank her for convincing my med school program to give me a deferment?” Ariel stands up as well. “I don’t know if I’ll ever feel safe talking to her face to face.”
“Of course,” I say. “Funny it should take glamour to get that deferment.”
“That’s what I said.” Felix chuckles and heads out of the kitchen.
Kit clears her throat and looks meaningfully at Ariel.
“Oh, right,” Ariel says with an almost imperceptible eye roll. “Kit can crash in my room until I need it.”
“We should burn the sheets after,” Fluffster says mentally—presumably to everyone but Kit.
“I’ll see you at the funeral.” Ariel gives me a peck on the cheek and follows Felix out of the kitchen.
I sit there, stunned, my appetite gone without a trace.
Ariel meant Rose’s funeral.
An event I’ve put out of my mind, probably to stay sane. Now that—
“I’ll come back with Felix.” Kit interrupts my thoughts with a peck on my sauce-smeared lips.
They leave, and I poke at the rest of my meal in gloomy contemplation while Fluffster eats his hay.
When we’re both done, I clean up the kitchen, which makes me feel a little better.
That is, until I return to my room and see yesterday’s tattered clothes neatly folded on the chair.
Huh.
I woke up naked and didn’t even question it, but I probably should have.
Did Nero undress me?
My cheeks turn hot again, as do other parts of my body.
Pushing away the X-rated movie in my mind, I rummage through the pockets of my bloodied pants, take out the map that leads to Buyan, then toss the rags into the garbage.
“Are you about to play with Headspace again?” Fluffster asks when I take a seat and start meditative breathing.