From Russia With Claws (12 page)

It’s Like a Greek Tragedy but with More Fur

T
HE
W
ATERFRONT
I
N
D
OWNTOWN
S
EATTLE
glittered like jewels strung on a necklace as Galina walked in the morning sun. She ignored the white panel van that had become an almost constant companion in her daily outings, and enjoyed the sunshine. She’d jogged to the harbor, reveling in the pleasant weather.

Exercise wasn’t the only reason for her visit to the harbor. Galina wanted to visit the boat slips, to check for the missing Bullet in the false panels and bottoms of the Organization boats docked there. She was running out of ideas. It was possible that Sergei—or Alexei—had already unloaded the drugs, getting them to the street or sending the Bullet out of the city. She doubted he’d have had the time to do so before his murder, but it was a possibility.

She started with the two boats her family had docked there. The false wall panels slid back when she hit a pressure switch, but revealed empty space. The other smuggling holes were also empty. Galina opened every cabinet and drawer, even checking the anchor line in case Sergei had hidden the drugs below the waterline. She found nothing.

It was the same with the Volkov boat, her search enabled by a bribe. Discouraged, Galina stepped onto the dock, shading her eyes from the light splintering off the water. She could see the top of the Great Wheel, the buildings of downtown behind it hugging the coast.

“Galina?”

She turned toward the sound Andrey’s voice. His black hair was all wind-whipped snarls, blue eyes bright and cheeks red as he looked down at her. He wore casual clothes suited for sailing. “Good morning,” she called. “Coming or going?”

Andrey smiled, a flash of white teeth more dazzling than the light off the water. “Just got back in. You?”

“Calling it a morning,” she answered, feeling her spirits lift just from seeing him.

“Then I hope you will let me buy you breakfast.” He offered her his arm.

Galina hooked her elbow into his. “I accept. I’m starving,” she admitted with an embarrassed laugh.

“Do you usually run around here?” Andrey asked as he led her out of the harbor. He seemed to have a breakfast destination in mind, so Galina followed contentedly. “I haven’t seen you.”

“Trying a new route.” She noticed the white van had pulled away from the curb to follow their path. “Just so you know, we have company.” Galina jerked her head toward the street.

Andrey turned, frowning at the van. “Are they after anything in particular or is this a courtesy call?”

Shrugging, Galina pulled away from him to walk on her own. She would have loved to stroll the streets arm and arm with Andrey all day, but they were supposed to only know each other professionally. “They try every few years to dig up something on Papa.” Her warning delivered, she changed the subject. “I didn’t know you sailed.”

He nodded, gesturing her inside Roxy’s Diner. The scent of cooking meats and bread assaulted her nostrils, making her mouth water. They sat at a table near the back, out of view from the windows.

Once they were settled, Andrey said, “I like to go out on the water as much as I can. Unfortunately, I do not often get the opportunity.”

“I’m surprised Konstantin isn’t with you. Or any bodyguards, for that matter.” Galina peered around, as if they were going to pop out of thin air.

“I prefer to go out by myself,” he said, pausing to order for them when the waitress stopped by their table. “I like to wander, and it is easier to do without an escort.” He shared a private smile with her. “I am Rom after all. We have a need to move. Itchy feet.”

Galina nodded, doctoring her coffee. “It must be nice, to be able to do that.”

“I don’t see your guardians anywhere either,” he pointed out.

She looked up from her mug, meeting his frank blue gaze. “I called them off. I don’t trust them.”

Before she thought about it, Galina told him what had happened on the trails at Papa’s house. “I need to find a detail loyal to me, not Alexei. Right now, I’m not sure there are any.”

Their food arrived: plates of bacon and sausage, scrambled eggs with chives and sour cream, roasted potatoes, pancakes, and piles of toasted brown bread. It looked like Andrey had ordered everything on the menu. Twice.

He waited until she’d begun to eat before answering. His eyes were dark, anger swirling in their silvery depths. “I want you to stop looking for the shipment. If Alexei finds out what you are doing, he will not stop as he did at your father’s house.”

Galina stopped with a forkful of pancakes halfway to her mouth. “I made a deal with you. I’m not going back on it.” She continued eating. If she stopped doing things for fear of Alexei’s reaction, she might as well buy herself a casket and plot.

Andrey captured her free hand in his. “Let me put my men on you.”

Raising an eyebrow, Galina said, “There’s a visual my father would love.”

His throaty chuckle sent a thrill through her. The sound of it made her wish they weren’t in so public a place so she could engage in some less than professional behavior with him. She contented herself with devouring her breakfast.

“You know what I meant.” He took a bite of sausage and egg. “You need to have some protection, Galya.”

Eyeing him curiously, she asked, “Won’t your people be upset with you, putting security on a Russian?”

He took a sip of coffee before answering. “My people have any number of reasons to be upset with me.” At her frown, he continued. “I am thirty years old and have no wife. That is a sin to the Rom. I should have a handful of children by now. I am not doing my duty.” He shoveled another forkful of eggs into his mouth. “What’s one more offense?”

She bumped his leg under the table. “I’ll think about it.”

Later that day, Galina let herself into Irina’s house, surprised when no one was there to greet her. Irina was still in seclusion, unable to go out on social calls for the length of her private morning period, so Galina stopped by whenever she could. Today, she came prepared with pastries from her favorite French bakery.

As she dropped off the box of goodies on the kitchen counter, she heard Alexei’s angry yelling coming from upstairs. What was he doing here? Where was Viktor?

She raced up the stairs, following the shouting to Irina’s bedroom. Viktor caught sight of her when she was almost to the top, gesturing for her to hurry. She heard Alexei say, “I would not do such a thing to you, Irina. I want you to paint the world with all of the colors of your soul.”

Galina stopped in the doorway, taking in the scene before her. Her brother clutched Irina in a tight hug. Shredded clothes covered the floor. Irina’s closet stood empty, all of her red dresses and skirts and blouses lying in ruins at Alexei’s feet. Irina was trying to reach for a statuette sitting on a nearby table to presumably brain their brother with it, but it was just out of her reach.

“What in fucking fuck are you talking about?” Galina asked from the doorway. She leaned against the doorframe, arms casually crossed over her chest, glaring at Alexei. Blood stained the arms of Irina’s shirt.

Galina stepped over the ruins of Irina’s wardrobe, nudging the sleeve of a Calvin Klein dress with her toe. She kept her voice light, breezy. “What is going on in here? Irina, did you decided to do a makeover without me? I’m hurt. I make a much better fairy godmother than Alexei here.”

Alexei’s eyes flashed at the word “fairy.”

“This is none of your concern, Galina,” Alexei snapped. “Get out of here.”

“Oh, matters of fashion are always my business, brother dear.” Galya smiled ever so sweetly as she wandered closer. She allowed her claws to extend, smaller and more oval-shaped than Alexei’s, but twice as sharp. Her brother was too caught up in…whatever he was doing to notice. He was an idiot.

“You don’t know what your business is,” Alexei snarled.

“Oh, I think what is and isn’t my business is about to be redefined, Alexei.” She felt her smile fade from her face, turning her expression feral. The chase at her father’s house came thundering back to her and she fought from growling at him.

Alexei roared with rage at the insult. Snarling, he tossed Irina aside like a ragdoll, sending her sailing. Viktor was already moving, interposing himself before Irina could collide with the bedroom wall. Galina watched him cradle her sister’s body against his protectively as they fell.

Galina scowled, unable to believe her brother was so out of control. Alexei swung his massive hand toward her face, and Galina easily side-stepped the swipe. She stuck out her Louboutin-shod foot to catch Alexei’s ankle, sending his over-extended frame toppling to the floor in a heap.

“Are you ever not going to fall for that one?” she asked him as he howled and beat his paws on the floor. He reminded her of a toddler who’d been told he couldn’t have a sweet. She watched as Viktor hauled Irina out of the room, then turned her attention back to her brother.

“What the hell are you even doing here, Alexei?” Galina demanded, staring down at him. Her voice was poisonous with scorn. “You haven’t bothered visiting Irina during her whole seclusion, but you swing by now to rough her up and play Edward Scissorhands with her work clothes? What the hell is wrong with you?”

“You have no right to question me!” Alexei exploded. He climbed to his feet, face red. “My relationship with Irina is none of your business!”

What the hell? What relationship was he talking about? “There are not enough Greek tragedy jokes in the world to cover what’s going on with your brain, is there?” Galina said, shaking her head in mock dismay.

“Watch your mouth when you talk to me!” Alexei barked.

He began to unbuckle his belt, pulling it from the loops of his pants. Galina stared in shock. Alexei was going to try to whip her with a belt? The idea was utterly ridiculous. He had completely lost the plot.

“Really, a belt, Alexei?” Galina scoffed. “You’re relying on an arsenal of accessories? What’s next, you’re going to come at me with your necktie?”

She hadn’t thought it possible, but his face flushed even redder. “Mark my words, Galina, you will learn your place!”

She laughed outright at that. Alexei thought he was going to be the one to teach her? Unlikely. He and Maksim had so much in common, it was no wonder they were bonding.

“Yeah, yeah,” Galina said, waving him away like he was an annoying mosquito. “Hey, instead of hitting you with my shoe, you don’t mind if I shift into a state in which I have claws and fangs and twice your body mass, do you,
genius?”

Galina smelled her father well before his booming voice shouted, “What do you think you are doing? Is this how my children behave when I am here?”

She crossed the room and kissed her Papa’s cheek, as if this were no more than a simple friendly conversation about the weather. Galina brushed imaginary fuzz from her jacket.

“Papa, so good to see you. Alexei was just having a little temper tantrum. I think he needs a nap.” Condescension practically dripped from her voice.

“I was not having a temper tantrum,” Alexei snarled. “I was teaching your little princess how to speak with respect to her betters!”

“Tell you what, you bring me my betters, I’ll be sure to speak to them respectfully,” Galina retorted.

“You see?” Alexei snapped. “You see how she speaks to me, Papa?” His voice was almost a whine.

“Everybody will calm down now,” Papa yelled. “Where is your sister? Have you forgotten that you are standing in her bedroom, screaming at each other like a couple of fishwives?”

Irina walked out of the bathroom in a clean white button-up shirt. Viktor followed a few seconds later. “I’m right here, Papa.”

“Irina, what is this madness? Why are your clothes in ruins on the floor? Why are your brother and sister fighting? Tell Papa—” he demanded before stopping mid-sentence and inhaling deeply. He snarled. “Why do I smell your blood?”

“She fell,” Alexei said quickly. “It was an accident.”

“If by
fall
, you mean Alexei getting rough…” Galina began, but her father shot her a warning look. She subsided, incredulous that Alexei was trotting out that old saw again. It was his excuse when they were all kids, every time he “played” too rough and one of them got hurt. Papa couldn’t actually believe that lie.

Papa turned to Irina. “Irina, how did you fall?”

“I tripped, Papa, and cut my arm. Viktor patched me up. I’ll be fine,” she said.

Galina stared. Irina was backing him up on his lie? She huffed out a frustrated breath. If Irina wouldn’t tell Papa, then she would.

But then she saw the resignation on Irina’s face. Her sister knew that Papa would buy whatever lie he had to in order to keep from admitting what a mess his oldest son was. No matter what Galina or her sister said, he would always back Alexei.

Ilya examined Viktor’s face, which remained blank as a slate. “Well, Irina has always been a bit clumsy.”

Galina huffed out a frustrated breath. Well, if he was going to be willfully blind, he could at least handle the expense of furnishing Irina with a new wardrobe. “By the way, Alexei destroyed all of Irina’s clothes, Papa.”