Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen

T atyana spent the night listening to Oleg reassure her mother that Tatyana would be safe with vampires. All his arguments were rational, and her mother had seemed reassured, and Tatyana felt like she was in the middle of someone else’s life.

When he was finished telling her mother how things would be, Oleg walked down the porch steps and looked over his shoulder. “I will see you in Sevastopol tomorrow night, Miss Vorona. Please be ready to travel.” Then he turned to Anna, who was peering over Tatyana’s shoulder. “Miss Asanov, your new assistant will meet you in Sevastopol on your return.” He glanced at Tatyana. “She’s a professional and will be able to assist you with anything you need while I am borrowing your daughter.”

Bookkeeper acquired. Mother assuaged.

He was efficient, Tatyana had to give him that.

After Oleg left the farm, efficient professionals appeared as if by magic, setting up a communications center near the barn, sending out dark-clad individuals to patrol the orchards, and bringing in a black Land Cruiser to drive Anna and Tatyana back to Sevastopol the next morning.

Anna stared at the midnight bustle on the quiet farm. “I hope they don’t disturb the neighbors.”

Tatyana stared at her mother. “Are you actually okay with this?”

Her mother spared her a glance before she returned to surveying Oleg’s people. “You made an agreement with a vampire. He’s not asking for your blood or your firstborn child, is he?”

“No.”

She shrugged. “You were a bookkeeper for a packaging manufacturer, you can be a bookkeeper for a vampire. You needed a job, didn’t you?”

Part of Tatyana couldn’t believe her mother was being so casual about this, but the other part of her realized that Anna Asanov had seen more change in her life than Tatyana could imagine. A new dictator rolling in to run her life probably felt more normal than not.

“That assistant is probably a bodyguard,” Tatyana said. “She’ll be watching your every move. You know that, right?”

Anna looked at her. “And? I’m still going to make her clean. Your boss said she was going to work for me. So she can watch me while she cleans pigeon shit.”

The allure of a private jet was significantly less impressive on Tatyana’s return to Odesa.

The plane was just as luxurious, but instead of going home, Tatyana was returning to Odesa for an unknown period of time to work with a creature she didn’t fully understand, trying to accomplish a job she wasn’t sure she could actually do.

The plane was dimly lit and occupied by four other passengers: Oleg’s driver Seban and three other people she didn’t recognize. No one was speaking to the others; all of them appeared to start working the minute they sat down.

Tatyana sat on her own in a seat that faced backward, staring at a soft taupe curtain. Her messenger bag was next to her, but she didn’t open it.

She had things to do. She had a book her mother gave her and the files Elene had sent with her to Sevastopol, but she found herself staring at the curtain, determined to not work as long as possible.

“Miss Vorona.” Roman, the lovely steward, bent down and spoke softly. “Would you like a drink while the pilots prepare the plane?”

“Yes,” she said softly. “Just water, please.”

Nothing in Tatyana’s life seemed real, but as her mother had pointed out the night before, there were countless times when Oleg could have killed both of them and didn’t.

She’d become a target, and Oleg was probably the only one who could protect her.

Even though he’d been the one to make her a target in the first place.

“You were going to use me as bait.”

“I’m still going to use you as bait.”

Her mother, ever the pragmatic, reminded Tatyana that she had signed up to work for Oleg and she had to finish the job. As much as Tatyana had wanted to argue, she couldn’t.

Besides, if a monster was chasing her, she needed a monster to protect her.

“He’s coming.” A woman’s voice cut through Tatyana’s exhausted daze.

A female steward walked to the back and drew a curtain aside, revealing a strange contraption built into the back of the passenger compartment.

What the hell?

It looked like a very fancy silver… cage. The cage extended around four seats at the back of the passenger compartment, wrapping around everything—the floor, the windows, everything. There were large openings between the metal strips and a large door.

Just as Roman brought her a bottle of spring water and a cut-crystal glass, she heard footsteps on the stairs leading to the plane. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Oleg enter, followed a few moments later by Mika.

“Mr. Sokolov, welcome.” Roman gave him a deep nod. “Good to see you, Mr. Arakis.”

Pleasantries were exchanged, but Oleg’s eyes scanned the plane with clear intent, settling on Tatyana immediately. He gave her a curt nod, then greeted the other passengers like a courteous boss and ignored Tatyana.

He walked down the aisle, opened the cage, and sat in a seat, picking up a newspaper and opening it. Mika followed a few minutes later, chatting with no one but Oleg’s driver before he also entered the cage and closed the door behind them.

The moment the compartment closed, it was as if a switch flipped.

Dim lighting brightened, and the hum of electrical appliances and instruments started.

Roman and the second steward started moving around the compartment, handing out drinks and securing the compartment for flight.

Oleg called from the back compartment. “Blood-wine, Roman. Two glasses and a bottle.”

“Right away, Mr. Sokolov.”

Tatyana looked up and realized that Oleg’s seat was opposite hers, separated by four rows, but she was directly in his line of sight. Was it intentional?

“I protect my assets. And you are one of my assets now.”

She didn’t feel like an asset. She felt trapped.

Tatyana looked away from the strange man who now dictated her life and back at the book in her lap. It was a bestseller that her mother had picked up and shoved at Tatyana as she walked out the door.

Roman walked down the aisle with an open bottle of wine and two wineglasses, passing them through the slats of the metal cage without opening it.

“Thank you, Roman.”

“Of course, Mr. Sokolov.”

Oleg caught her curious stare. “It’s a Faraday cage. The only way I can fly.”

Tatyana said, “I thought vampires could fly.”

There was a low sound of laughter around the plane, and she felt her cheeks heat.

Oleg looked at her, the hint of a smile touching his lips. “Come.” He flicked two fingers at her in a come-hither gesture. “Take one of the back seats and talk with me. I cannot open the cage while the electronics are active, so you’ll be very safe.”

More quiet laughter.

Tatyana was tempted to ignore Oleg, but she had questions and she didn’t want people laughing at her. She grabbed her old messenger bag and her glass of water, moving to the farthest seat in the back that butted up to the cage where Oleg and Mika were sitting.

As soon as she sat, he held his hand out.

Tatyana stared at the hand. Mika was studiously ignoring both of them, sitting across the aisle in a chair that faced to the back and reading a book.

“Come on.” A snap of Oleg’s fingers and he held out his open palm. “You can reach in; I cannot reach out.”

“I told you the snapping was going to annoy me,” she muttered.

The corner of his mouth turned up, and Tatyana tentatively put her hand into the cage. She looked Oleg in the eye. “Why do you need a Faraday cage on an airplane?”

“It’s a special modification so I can fly.” His fingers wrapped around her hand. “Do you feel it?”

Tatyana frowned. The moment Oleg’s hand touched hers, there was a slight buzz, as if she were touching a covered wire. Gradually she felt the buzz move up her hand and her arm. At the same time she felt her heart start to race, and the hairs on her arm stood up. Her skin was impossibly sensitive when he rubbed his thumb over her knuckles. Her lips tingled.

Tatyana pulled her hand away, shocked by the sudden arousal Oleg had provoked with a single touch. “What is that?”

“Amnis. Human stories call it glamour. Magic. Enchantment. It’s the current that connects us to our elemental power.”

“Your fire.”

“Not all of us are flammable,” Mika muttered.

Oleg smiled. “Mika draws strength from water. My sire drew it from earth. Every vampire in the world gains their power from an element.”

I am Oleg Sokolov, immortal lord of Kievan Rus, sired of earth and born to fire.

Tatyana said, “You were born to fire.”

“A genetic quirk if you can believe it. Vampires also have their… recessive genes.”

“I thought vampires gained power from blood.”

“Blood is the embodiment of all the elements.” Oleg leaned back and lifted the wine bottle that Roman had brought, tipping it. “Iron, water, oxygen.” Brilliant red wine poured into his glass, but it was a little darker, a little blacker than most wine she’d seen. “And of course the heat of living fire.”

He handed the wine to Mika and reached for another glass.

“Blood-wine is exactly what you think it is,” Oleg continued. “Human blood preserved in fortified wine.”

Tatyana watched the glass. “So you drink that instead of fresh blood?”

Mika chuckled a little as he sipped his wine. “Like a weight lifter surviving on Caesar salad.”

“That’s not a bad comparison,” Oleg continued. “Blood-wine is convenient, and it will sate your hunger for a time.” He put the bottle in a bucket on the side table. “But it’s not a true meal.”

Tatyana watched him take a long drink, then lick a drop of blood from his lower lip before he spoke again.

“We still need to feed from humans,” he said. “Depending on our age, we don’t have to drink very often. Maybe once a week or so.”

She opened her mouth and closed it again.

Oleg had already guessed her question. “I don’t drain a human unless I want to. I don’t have to kill to survive.”

She kept her voice soft. “But you do kill.”

“When the situation warrants?” He lifted his chin. “You should be glad I killed the other night.”

Tatyana didn’t know how to feel about that night. She glanced at Oleg’s wineglass and remembered the black blood dripping down his chest and the scent of iron in the air.

She looked away. “I saw you eat food too.”

“We have stomachs, don’t we? If your stomach is empty, it groans. Besides that, our tastes are heightened. Our senses are better than yours. Good food is highly enjoyable.”

Tatyana glanced at him again and saw his eyes settle on her face.

He said, “Anything that appeals to the senses is more pleasurable for vampires.”

She didn’t like the way her cheeks flushed. She sat back and crossed her arms over her chest. “Clearly the stories are not correct if you can’t fly.”

Oleg smiled. “Disappointed?”

“Some of us can.” Mika glanced over his shoulder. “Wind vampires, remember?”

“And you’re a fire vampire.” Tatyana looked around the plane. “You have electrical currents under your skin. If you weren’t in that cage, you’d short-circuit all the electronics on this plane, wouldn’t you?”

“You’re very bright.”

“That’s why you hired me.”

“No,” Mika said. “He hired you because Zara will want to kill you when she hears that you’re working for us.” He glanced at Tatyana. “Don’t worry. I won’t let you die. He’ll be annoyed if I do.”

Oleg barked something at Mika in a language Tatyana didn’t understand, and the other vampire muttered something, set his book down, and closed his eyes.

“Forgive Mika,” Oleg said. “He has no manners. He will protect you though. All of my people will protect you.”

“Why?”

“As I told you last night, you’re an asset to me. And you are very bright. I fully expect you to find my money.”

Tatyana swallowed. “If I can’t?”

“Given enough time and resources, I have every confidence in you.” He lifted his glass. “I will give you everything you need.”

“But until then I’m a captive?”

Oleg took a long drink of wine, and Tatyana saw the corner of his fangs peek out from behind his lips. “I suppose that depends on how you define captive.”

Oleg’s driver dropped her off at the Admiral Hotel, and Tatyana collapsed in a room that felt at least a little bit familiar even if it didn’t feel safe. She dragged pillows and blankets over to the window and fell asleep with a guard outside her door.

When she woke, she felt the warmth of the late-morning sun bathing her skin.

She rolled over and closed her eyes, reveling in the security of the light.

She hadn’t asked anyone directly, but judging by the fact that she’d only seen Oleg and Zara at night, she suspected the stories about sunlight burning vampires was based on fact. In the sunlight, she was safe. During the day, she didn’t have to worry about monsters lurking.

A tap at her door. “Miss Vorona?”

The voice was familiar, and when Tatyana went to open the door, she was pleased to see Lorala’s bright smile.

The woman was also holding another rack of garment bags. “Coats,” she said. “Mr. Sokolov said you needed a coat.”

Tatyana looked down at her sweatpants and her favorite black hoodie. The coat she’d been wearing that fateful night in Sevastopol had stayed in her bedroom, stained by mud and vomit from her traumatic night.

“Come on in.” She opened the door. “It’s been a rough few days.”

“It’s nice to see you again.” The woman bustled into the room and immediately went to the kitchenette to turn on the coffee maker. “Marina tells me that you are aware of Mr. Sokolov’s nature. How are you feeling?”

Tatyana gaped. “You mean… You know Mr. Sokolov is…”

“Vampire.” Lorala smiled politely. “Of course. This hotel is actually a converted mansion that once belonged to a vampire. It’s owned by the Wallace Conglomerate and caters to all guests but specifically those in the immortal world—vampires and their day people.”

“Oh my God.” She sat on the edge of the bed. “They’re everywhere, aren’t they?”

“Take a moment and breathe.” Lorala brought her over a cup of strong black coffee. “I can see that you’re still processing all this. I put two sugars in your coffee. If you’d prefer something with milk or tea?—”

“No, this is good.” Tatyana sipped the coffee and immediately felt better. “This is great.” She looked at Lorala with new eyes. “Are you a vampire?” Tatyana shook her head. “No, of course not. It’s daylight, so unless I’m wrong about?—”

“No, you are correct.” The woman nodded. “Vampires cannot be in sunlight without damage, and most of them sleep very deeply during the day. Almost as if they’re dead.”

She took another long drink of coffee. “But there are a lot of them, aren’t there?”

Lorala walked to the table and angled a chair toward Tatyana. “Not as many as you probably think but more than you knew before. If you have questions, I’m happy to answer them.”

Tatyana blinked. “Uh… how do you know about all this?”

“My father worked for an immortal. I’ve known since I was quite young. There is a whole community of day people in most large cities.”

“How many vampires are out there?” Had she been passing them in the streets her whole life and not knowing?

“I have no idea. I doubt anyone does.” She smiled. “I’m sure it’s very overwhelming. And you might be scared, but there is no reason to be. Mr. Sokolov is a very powerful man. Taken under his protection, you’re probably one of the safest women in the world right now.”

Safe from others maybe, but what about from him?

Tatyana finished her coffee and set it to the side. “He’s very rich, isn’t he?”

Lorala said, “I would assume so. He’s the vampire lord in this area.”

“This area?”

“Vampire territories rarely follow human borders. Mr. Sokolov has been the immortal ruler of Odesa, Kyiv, and much of the northern Black Sea region for far longer than it has been part of any modern state.”

“How old is he?” Tatyana asked.

Lorala shook her head. “I have no idea. Most vampires hide their age because it’s an indication of power, but I know he’s quite old.”

Hundreds of years? Maybe longer?

How old do you think I am?

I am very bad with guessing ages.

I’m eleven hundred and thirty-seven.

Tatyana had thought he was joking, but she had a suspicion that she knew exactly how old Oleg was.

Why had he told her?

And how did anyone wrap their mind around being that old? “Is he Russian?”

Lorala cocked her head, considering the question. “He would probably be considered Russian now. I believe his corporate headquarters are in Saint Petersburg. But remember modern borders—even modern languages—are new for many immortals.”

I’m a captive?

I suppose that depends on how you define captive.

Who was Tatyana in comparison to someone who was more powerful than human governments? She was a state-educated accountant.

“My life is over,” she whispered.

“I promise you, it is not.” Lorala’s face was sympathetic when she rose. “Ms. Beridze left a message that you’d be going into the SMO corporate offices today but she didn’t expect you until later. Would you like me to have one of your suits pressed while you get ready and eat breakfast?”

She looked up at Lorala, suddenly suspicious. “Are you here to make sure I follow directions?”

Lorala smiled and her eyes were soft. “I understand your suspicions, but I’m here to help. I hope you can trust me even though I know that everything must feel very strange right now. I promise though, you’re quite safe at the Admiral. This is neutral ground. All humans and vampires are safe in this hotel, and no violence is allowed on the grounds, not even between rival vampires.”

“Neutral ground?”

Lorala nodded. “I don’t work for Mr. Sokolov. I work for Marina, and Marina works for Wallace Hotels. And Wallace Hotels are neutral territory. You can trust us.”

Tatyana had no way of knowing if Lorala was lying or not, but she wanted to trust her. She had no idea if she was being a naive fool, but the woman seemed honest.

“And who is paying the bill for my room?” Tatyana asked.

“SMO International has an account at the Admiral.”

“Right.”

And SMO International was Oleg.

Tatyana was going to find out how much her room cost—or maybe how much a smaller room was. As long as Oleg controlled her money, he controlled her.

“Still, I think it’s quite telling that Mr. Sokolov brought you here.” Lorala walked back to the kitchenette. “He has multiple properties in Odesa, but instead of taking you to his people, he brought you to the Admiral.”

“Why?”

“I have no idea.” Lorala started the coffee maker again. “But if he wanted to control your every move, he wouldn’t have brought you here.”