Bargains and Betrayals (13 page)

I changed for bed—a pretty ridiculous idea considering the same fashion options were available both day and night. Slipping into my bed, I pulled the covers up and grabbed the cell. I dialed Pietr’s number, wanting to hear his voice. Straight to voice mail.

“Pietr, I’m sorry. I know things are crazy.” I paused, noting the irony. “I just wanted to hear your voice. So it’s okay that I’m going to ring straight through to your voice mail again in a moment. At least it’s something. I love you.”

I redialed.

“You have reached the voice mail of Pietr Rusakova,” the recorded voice purred. “Leave a message.”

I slid the phone away, holding the sound of his voice in my head as long as I could before sleep snatched it from me.

CHAPTER NINE

Alexi

Pietr had drifted into my room several times already to carefully pick through my belongings and nearly as carefully put them back. He grew increasingly slicker with his ability to leave things looking untouched, but I had an eye for details—and knew how to set things to see if they’d been disturbed.

He’d been working his way methodically in a clockwise manner so I knew what remained for him to search.

And I knew he’d never find what he was seeking.

One didn’t leave a Mafia contact’s number sitting out.

But he had no way to get it from where the information was truly stored—in my brain. And I didn’t want to wait for him to grow desperate enough to realize and try to find it there.

Being a coward had saved my life before.

He was so young at such a dishonest game. But as young and new as he was, he was also right.

We could not free Mother by ourselves. And there was no other group willing to help us.

As I tucked the small black notebook into a section of my closet yet untouched by Pietr I prayed that being a wretched brother willing to sacrifice Pietr to the mob I might yet become a better son—able to free the only mother I’d ever truly known. And the only person still living who’d ever truly known
me
.

Jessie

I woke to the buzzing of the cell phone as it trembled beside my hand. I couldn’t remember turning it on. Wary of the camera, I opened the cell and put it between my ear and the pillow.

“Jess.”

“Oh, God, Pietr!” I nearly sat up, but fought down any reaction that might telegraph the truth to the camera. “I love you.”

“You have an odd way of showing it,” he returned, “turning your back to me so the dogs nearly caught me.” I heard the corner of his mouth turn up, the smile unmistakable in his tone. He’d already forgiven me, knowing why I’d done it. “I love you, too,” he said with a sigh. “I had to call. Jess…”

“What?”

“There’s nothing Max and I can do to free her.…”

“Alexi and Cat,” I reminded him.

“
Nyet
. There’s no other choice. I’m going for help. I shouldn’t be long.…”

“What? Where?”

“Not far. But I may be out of touch.…”

“No, Pietr. Don’t cut me out.”

“I could not cut you out if I wanted to,” he said, his voice tight. “How would I live if I cut out my heart?”

My breath caught.

“You’ve done well without me. You’re a survivor. Even when things seem impossible, you hold on to hope. I need you to have a little more faith in me—”

“I have all the faith in the world in you,” I confessed.

“
Horashow
. Good. Then have faith in my choices and trust I’ll come back for you. Soon.”

And then there was just the echo of silence coming back to me.
Dammit
. I tossed and turned the rest of the night, imagining a multitude of horrible scenarios. The worst always ended with Pietr dead.

And all my hopes of happiness died alongside him.

CHAPTER TEN

Alexi

I was not surprised when Pietr announced he was going hunting late that evening; I was pleased.

I watched him leave, saw Max slink off after Amy was asleep, and caught the smell of popcorn.

Cat emerged with a bowl brimming with the stuff, light on butter but heavy with salt. Though she no longer hunted and no longer changed, she still craved the occasional late-night snack, especially when she knew her brothers were roaming the old abandoned park and nearby woods looking for prey.

I couldn’t be sure if it was a psychological need or a physical one still linked to her tweaked genetic code. I only knew she complained about it frequently.

“Studies have shown people tend to put on more weight if they snack after seven in the evening.” She settled onto the couch beside me. “And here I am, seventeen and starving at nearly midnight! I am too young to have my body ruined by the tinkering your grandfather did.”

“
Da
,” I said. Nodding, I changed the channel.

“I am getting fatter.”

“To get fatter you must first be
fat
,” I pointed out, switching channels again. “You are not even approaching plump.”

“What are we going to do, Alexi?” she asked.

“You are going to pass me the popcorn and we are going to watch some horrible infomercial on a channel that has embraced capitalism beyond all reason,” I said, reaching for the bowl.

“
Nyet
,” she said.

I looked at her.

“What are we going to do about Mother?”

The couch felt suddenly too soft to be comfortable, so I tugged myself free of it and handed her the remote.

“Alexi.”

“I do not know, Catherine. I do not know.” I left the room and headed for my own instead. I straightened some things—trinkets and junk—and then thought of the small notebook I had left intentionally in Pietr’s way.

I opened the closet and moved a shoebox aside.

Gone.

Hunting
, he had claimed.

Pietr had lied.

I sat down with a sigh on my bed, playing with my lighter and waiting for his inevitable, and angry, return.

Alexi

“You knew,” Pietr accused me from my bedroom’s open door.

I flipped the lighter closed and looked at him. “
Da
. Of course I knew. I have played this game far longer than you have.” I studied him, noting the bruises healing on his face.

I hardened my heart. If their initial rejection could change his mind I would know I had at least gone as far—pushed as hard—as
I
could.

It would be Pietr who stopped the insanity.

“You were not welcomed,” I said coolly, touching a finger to my cheek so he knew I saw his battered one.

“Of course I was not welcomed,” he snapped. “You knew that, too, though, didn’t you?”

“
Da
.”

“Why, Alexi? Why waste my time?”

“In hopes it is enough to save your soul. This is no game these men play. If they want you, they will want to keep you until you’re no longer of use. Or until you betray them. And then they’ll still want you—but
dead
.”

“My
soul?
What about our mother’s
life?
”

I winced.
Our
mother’s. It was odd how different he and Max could be. Same bloodline, same genetic code and upbringing, and yet—there were things science could not account for.

“What if we can still save her?”

“What if. What if!” I stood, anger straightening my spine. “We don’t know the cure will do her any good. And we don’t have any more blood to make the cure. What if she finds out what you’re thinking? What then, little brother? You saw what she thought of
me
—the Rusakova
outcast
—taking a bullet for her. It turned her stomach! What would she think of a plan including her youngest son and the Mafia?”

“I don’t know,” Pietr barked. “But at least we’d have time to ask her and find out!”

“Damn it, Pietr.”

“I need a proper introduction, don’t I?”

“
Da
.”

“Then arrrange it,” he commanded, rolling the words into a seamless growl.

The little black book struck me in the chest as he strode out the door.

Jessie

I did laundry detail and returned to my room to read until it was time for my session. Then I returned and read some more. Reading
Bisclavret
I gained a better understanding of Pietr’s desperation to be understood, to be accepted although he struggled to accept himself.

Bisclavret
was every bit the tragedy Pietr hoped to avoid. And whereas the hero in
Bisclavret
had years to win his wife’s trust and love, it took moments for her to decide to betray him.

Pietr’d never had the luxury of such a lengthy time line to find someone to understand him. His life was destined to be cut short if he continued to refuse the cure.

And he would continue to refuse until his mother was free.

So to feel so deeply for me so quickly and risk his heart by showing himself—a move that might have made most girls agree he was nothing but a monster—took real guts.

That night, with only a few chapters left to read in
Bisclavret
, I chose to try and be as brave as Pietr. I set aside the novel, picked up my journal, and wrote about losing my mom.

About the last time I’d seen her before the accident.

The fight we’d had.

And the fact I really believed obeying her the very last time I’d seen her had been the biggest mistake of my life.

When I finished, my eyes stung. Exhausted, I crawled into bed and checked the phone. No message. But I was certain that whatever Pietr was doing, wherever he was, he was okay.

He had to be.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Alexi

I had consumed so much vodka between Pietr’s rejection, my request of an introduction, and the actual event I was amazed I was not yet blind. My head ached and even the scent of food sent me into heaves. I patted the cigarettes again in my pocket. So sleek, small, and potentially deadly. What was better when choosing one’s death, I wondered, the hacking and wheezing of ruined lungs or the hardening of a vodka-soaked liver?

Peering through the windshield into the dark I realized at the rate things were going, I wouldn’t live to see either choice take its final toll.

Riding shotgun was Pietr, the sole reason I was here, sober and sickened—by my own willingness to sacrifice him at least as much as by any drink.

I turned the steering wheel and we headed down a pockmarked dirt road. Our destination loomed ahead—an old dumping ground for far more than the wrecks of cars that towered haphazardly throughout the dump.

“Any advice?” Pietr asked me.

“
Da
. Tell me to turn the car around.”

“I can’t do that.”

“I do not think you know what you’re getting into, little brother,” I whispered, reaching across to open the glove box.

Pietr barely twitched when I pulled out the gun. “If they find that on you—”

“I guess we’re both taking some risks.” I popped out the gun’s clip, slid my finger along the slot windowing the rounds, spinning each a quarter turn, reassuring myself. This was all about things going smoothly. I chambered the first round. “They’ll want a show. Things will get bloody.”

From the corners of my eyes I noticed the way his Adam’s apple slid in his throat as he swallowed, taking in my words. Nervous. If I noticed, they might notice, too.

It would be like blood in the water.

“Tell me to turn the car around.”

But we both knew what his answer was going to be—what it had to be. And I was enough of a bastard I was ready to sacrifice my youngest brother to gain even a thin chance at freeing my mother.

“
Nyet
.” His eyes closed.

He was thinking. Of what? Or whom? Jessie? “There are some things—some alliances and choices, you may not ever be forgiven for. Regardless of how forgiving the girl seems.”

“I’ll deal with the fallout after Mother’s out. I have to … prioritize. There are always other girls, aren’t there?” he asked, his lips twisting in a cynical smile that mirrored the one I turned so often on the world.

A car pulled into the area ahead of us from a different entrance. It stopped, still a distance off, and faced us. Its headlights blinked twice. Then three more cars joined it.

I kept my voice steady. “
Nyet
,” I confided. “Sometimes there is only one girl.”

He glanced at me. But only briefly. “I thought this was to be a small meeting.” He motioned with his chin to the waiting cars.

I flicked our lights off and on, answering their summons, as my stomach roiled. “A small meeting about a big deal,” I muttered. “It’s not every day the Mafia gets exactly what it’s been wanting.” There were more cars than even I’d anticipated.

“Then let’s give it to them. Get this over with. Let’s make this deal.”

I nodded. “Follow my lead and stay cool.” Opening my door, I slid out of the car.

Briefly blinded by the glare of headlights, I realized if this didn’t go just right it meant the end of the both of us. Quickly. And without us the Mafia would feel even less reason to pause in going for Max and Cat.… A kidnapping would be quieter without the threat of an alpha in the house.

There were things I hadn’t dared tell Pietr. He needed to be as natural as possible. If I’d told him how I expected this to go down he’d have overanalyzed things. And one moment free of pure instinct—a heartbeat’s worth of thought—of recalling what you’d believed was the right decision when you ran the scenario through your mind: It became the difference between life and death.

Pietr mustn’t hesitate when it came down to it.

My contact, Ivan, according to the name he most frequently used, met us in the intersection of the awkward spotlight the cars’ headlights cast, his face dripping with shadow. I put my game face on. “Where’s Dmitri?”

“In the car. He wants to see your boy before he bothers getting out.”

“Pietr.” I snapped my fingers.

Pietr snarled at the insult, but came around from behind me, eyes glowing and jaw set grimly.

Ivan looked him up and down.