Chapter 37

Chapter Thirty-Seven

T atyana woke the following night with electricity in her veins and a new resolve to make her life—whatever it was going to be—work for her. She sat up in bed, looking at her body for marks Oleg might have left, but there was nothing. No bruises, no scrapes from stubble against skin.

Her body had healed itself as she slept, and the only evidence of sex with Oleg was a new hum in her blood, as if the amnis that animated her had been fed by his own.

For a moment after their sexual storm, she had panicked, keenly aware that she’d abandoned herself to pleasure in a way she’d never done before.

She’d wanted Oleg for months. He’d teased her in the backs of cars, drugged her with gentle kisses at odds with his gruff persona. And last night, as he spun her around in the Amber Room, she’d finally been able to imagine it.

What could her life be? What could she do?

Was this what freedom felt like?

It was a heady drug combined with potent, nearly animalistic desire for the vampire who had been her captor and her protector.

So Tatyana had taken what she wanted. There had been no caution or calculation. No careful weighing of consequences as she’d done as a human.

No condom.

She stopped breathing for a moment.

No condom because she could not get pregnant from a vampire. Nor could she carry a baby. Ever.

There was a twisting ache in her chest when she realized that—despite her own complicated relationship with her mother—she’d wanted to have children of her own. Someday. She’d never thought about it with any seriousness. She wasn’t married, and she’d never been in a long-term relationship.

Motherhood was something she’d pushed to the back of her mind, and she was a little surprised how hurt she was at the thought of losing the chance.

You could have died, and you didn’t. You should be grateful.

Her mother’s practical advice slapped her out of her reverie.

New life. Immortal life. The idea of family had to die if she was going to move forward.

“I could have died. I should be grateful,” she whispered. Even though being grateful for her immortal life meant being grateful to the woman who nearly murdered her, she was going to try.

Zara .

A wave of irrational longing grabbed her by the throat. She closed her eyes and remembered the feel of Zara’s hands braiding her hair.

“I love your hair.”

They were sitting in Tatyana’s bedroom, and Zara was looking over her shoulder as Tatyana worked on the books.

“Do you? I like your curls.” Tatyana glanced over her shoulder and saw Zara playing with the ends of her blond hair. “I always wanted curly hair. My grandfather had curly hair, but I take after my mother and my grandmother.”

“I can tell.” Zara heaved a huge sigh and pulled at Tatyana’s blond ponytail. “I should shave your head while you’re sleeping and make myself a wig.”

Tatyana laughed. “Oh, I’m sure that would look beautiful.”

“Let me braid it for you.” Zara scooted closer and tugged at the hairband around her ponytail. “I’m very good at braiding.”

“Oh?” Tatyana felt a silly burst of pleasure.

On most nights Zara could be mercurial and demanding, but every now and then they’d share a night like this when Tatyana could imagine they were two friends. It felt like being back at university in the dormitories.

“Yes, I’m an excellent braider.” Zara loosened Tatyana’s ponytail and combed her fingers through her hair. “I used to braid my girlfriend’s hair. She had beautiful blond hair like you.” Zara’s voice grew soft. “She looked a little bit like you. Maybe that’s why I noticed you at the club that night.”

“Your girlfriend?” Tatyana’s cheeks grew warm. She had known girls in school who preferred women to men, but they weren’t open about it.

“You didn’t know that I prefer women?” Zara asked. “I’m not coming on to you, by the way. You’re my employee, so that would be stupid.”

“Right.” Tatyana laughed a little bit. “Where is she? Your girlfriend. Are you still together?”

Zara’s hands moved quickly through Tatyana’s hair. “No, she died. She was far too young, but she died.”

Tatyana’s heart ached. “Zara, that’s terrible. I’m so sorry.”

“Thank you.” Her voice was soft. “I can tell that you mean that.” Zara’s fingers rested briefly on Tatyana’s shoulder. “I miss her every night.”

“How long has it been?”

Zara let out a long breath, her fingers still moving through Tatyana’s hair. “Years. But then sometimes I wake up and think she’s right next to me.”

“I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine losing someone like that.”

“You will though.” Zara’s voice grew clipped, and she reached for the hairband on Tatyana’s desk, twisting it around whatever braid she’d created. “We all lose people. You lost your grandparents. You’ll lose your mother someday. Death is inevitable.”

“I suppose you’re right.” Tatyana could feel the turn in Zara’s mood the way a flock of birds wheeled and changed direction in the sky.

She stared ahead, busying herself with the numbers on her computer. “The business is doing well. Your second quarter numbers are really impressive.”

“Yes.” Zara’s voice was cold again. She stood and walked to the door. “I’m too busy to stay here all night talking with you. Finish the accounts and send the printouts to me. Call the regular number.”

Moments later, Tatyana heard the front door of the apartment close, and everything was silent again.

Tatyana pulled her long ponytail over her shoulder and tugged it hard. Zara was her sire, she reminded herself. Oleg said it was normal to feel this affection. It was a result of her amnis, not because she had gone insane or was suffering a mental breakdown.

There was a tapping at the door, and a woman’s voice roused Tatyana from her memories.

“Tatyana?”

It was Oksana.

It was not Oleg, who had carried her back to her room before dawn and left her alone. She didn’t know how she felt about that. Maybe she didn’t feel anything.

Or maybe… a little bit of relief?

She was still processing what had happened in the Amber Room, and she wasn’t sorry that he’d left her on her own. Being anywhere near Oleg was consuming in a way that still frightened her. As much as she wanted him, that desire was tempered with caution.

Her body and her amnis were reckless for Oleg, hungry for him.

Her mind?

Eh, she could wait.

“Tatyana?” Oksana’s voice came again. “Are you well?”

“Yes.” She stood and threw on a robe. “I’m awake.”

“I have your blood. Oleg says you must drink at least a liter before you leave your quarters.”

Tatyana was undoubtedly thirsty, but even in two weeks of vampire life, the burning at the back of her throat had lessened. She felt more in control. More rational.

Except for the random longing for her homicidal maniac sire, of course.

Tatyana walked to the door and opened it to see Oksana standing with a silver carafe.

“You’re not snapping at my hands,” the other woman said. “Progress.”

Tatyana had to smile. “Thank you.” Suddenly she realized something. “Oksana, you’re a water vampire.”

“I am.” Oksana smiled. “Are you looking for a few pointers?”

“From someone who has the same element and isn’t always snapping his annoying fingers at me?” Tatyana raised an eyebrow. “What do you think?”

“Finally! It’s past time that you asked.” She pointed to the carafe. “Drink your blood and get dressed. We can work in the ballroom.”

Tatyana and Oksana worked for hours, and while the older vampire’s lessons weren’t as explosive as Oleg’s, Tatyana’s analytical mind ate them up. It helped that while no one even came close to her when she was training with Oleg, the moment she started working with Oksana, a small crowd formed along the edge of the ballroom.

Far from being intimidating, the vampires who watched them often called out encouragement or clapped when Tatyana did something correctly.

“Well done!”

“She’s sharp.”

“Not terrible for a newborn.”

The last compliment came from a stocky man with a long beard who leaned in the doorway. He looked older than the others, and he was significantly shorter. His arms and legs looked powerful, and Tatyana didn’t know how she knew, but the man wasn’t a water vampire and he was far older than any other vampire in the room.

If Tatyana had to guess, she’d say he was an earth vampire, though she had no idea what instinct told her his element or his age.

“Explosions of amnis are powerful, and right now you have a lot of energy because you’re young,” Oksana explained, ignoring the audience around them. “Energy is good. Control is better.”

“Okay.” She nodded. “Control.”

“You want to work toward a whisper, not a shout.” Oksana stood beside Tatyana and raised her hand, putting Tatyana’s right palm against her own. “Feel my amnis?”

She nodded, and her own energy immediately reached for Oksana’s.

“Rude,” the woman snapped.

Tatyana pulled her hand back. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Oksana grabbed her hand again. “What you did? It’s like going up and hugging a stranger. Think of your amnis as an extension of your body. It’s there to protect you and to feel others out. But you meet someone and you don’t go up and kiss their face, do you?”

She felt a burning embarrassment. “Did I just kiss your face?”

Oksana gave her a wink. “I promise I won’t tell Ludmila.”

A low rumble of laughter from around the room, but once again it was congenial, not scornful.

“Don’t worry,” someone called. “We’ve all tried to kiss Oksana one time or another.”

“Until she mated Ludmila, and now we’re afraid of a bullet to the back of the head.” More laughter from the edges of the room.

Their lesson continued, and after several hours, Tatyana was starting to droop and her throat began to burn.

Oksana tapped her chin. “Your body can’t get tired anymore, but your amnis can.” She nodded to the fountain. “Go sit in the fountain and recharge.”

“Sit in the…?” She looked over her shoulder, then down at the sweatpants and T-shirt she was wearing. “Really?”

“If you want to get naked, no one will care and you’ll recharge faster.”

Tatyana glanced at the line of four men and two women standing along the wall of the ballroom. “I don’t think I’m that comfortable with everyone yet.”

Oksana laughed and clapped her on the shoulder. “At least take off your shoes. I’m going to go check on the perimeter with this gang. I’ll have someone send over another liter of blood.”

“Thank you.” She walked over to the marble fountain in the center of the ballroom and sat on the edge, leaning down to take off her shoes before she sank her feet into the cold water.

The relief and refreshment were nearly instant.

She closed her eyes and felt her amnis react to her element like a dry plant sucking up moisture through the roots. A moment later she smelled fresh blood at the door, and her head swung toward the scent.

The stocky vampire paused, lifting one eyebrow before he spoke to her in Russian with a heavy accent. “Your senses are good for a newborn.”

“Thank you?”

The older man grunted. “I’m Lazlo.”

“Tatyana Vorona.”

He set the silver carafe on the marble ledge where Tatyana was sitting. “I’m Oleg’s brother. I live in the forest behind the house.”

“Really?”

“Yes,” he growled. “And I’m older than him, so if you want to complain about his manners, talk to me.”

Tatyana couldn’t stop her smile. The vampire was dark-haired and olive-skinned. He appeared to be in middle age, but for vampires that could mean anything. Elene had once told her the older a vampire looked, the younger they might have been when they were turned since people historically aged so much faster.

Elene didn’t know how old Oleg had been in his human life, but since he appeared to be in his forties, he was probably only in his twenties or thirties when he was changed.

Tatyana held her hand out to Lazlo and snapped. “That thing he does when he wants your attention.”

“The snapping?” The older vampire grimaced. “It makes me want to grab my axe.”

“ Yes . Every time.”

“He’s an annoying shit. But we pay attention to it because…” He shrugged. “Who knows? Because we do.”

“At least I know he doesn’t only do it to me.” Tatyana angled herself toward Lazlo as she took the carafe of blood. She was too hungry to be polite, so she simply twisted off the top and drank straight from the pitcher.

It wasn’t delicate, but she was too thirsty to care.

“You have an appetite.” Lazlo grunted. “That’s good. Sometimes the young ones? They are too busy mourning their old life to care for themselves. They pine and complain. It’s very annoying.”

“Is it common? To pine like that?”

He sat next to her, leaving his feet outside the fountain. “Not so much anymore. Now the world is more civilized. It’s not typical for a vampire to be turned against their will like you were.” He lifted a finger. “I’m sorry I didn’t find you before you killed Gregor. Oleg says you feel guilty about that.”

“Yes.” She wished he hadn’t brought it up, but maybe it was a good reminder. “I’m going to have to live for eternity knowing that I’m a murderer.”

“I mean, eternity is optimistic.” Lazlo shrugged. “Aim for twenty years of this and see how you feel then. You can always walk into the sun. Or ask someone to behead you—that’s probably less painful than burning.”

“Right.” Tatyana felt strangely comforted by the older man’s morbid ruminations. It felt more honest than people painting a rosy picture of living life in darkness. “How about you? What made you decide to live?”

“My brothers.” Lazlo curled his lip. “Mostly the one you’re having sex with.”

“Oh God.” She put the carafe to her lips again and gulped the blood, which had cooled and coagulated a little bit. “You really have to drink blood fresh, don’t you?”

“It’s much better when you do.” His bushy mustache twitched. “Everyone knows about you and Oleg. Don’t feel embarrassed about it.”

“Okay.” She finished the carafe of blood and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “Did he say something?”

“No, everyone can smell him on you.”

“Right.” And now she wanted to bury herself in the garden and remain there for around twenty years. “Good to know.”

He pointed at the door. “Half of Mika’s crew are having sex with each other. Oksana and Ludmila are the only ones mated. Most vampires view it as an amusing way to pass the time when you’re bored. Don’t be too human about it.”

Oh right. Well, that probably shouldn’t be surprising. And it left her with a fresh perspective on Oleg. “Good to know.”

“My brother though?” Lazlo squinted. “He’s odd.”

What did that mean?

Tatyana turned toward the rough man. “You really don’t need to tell me… anything. About Oleg. I know…”

Lazlo looked amused. “What do you know? Or think you know?”

Honestly, not much.

“He kept me from dying,” Tatyana said softly. “I guess right now that’s all I need from him.”

Lazlo nodded. “He does that.”

“Keeps people from dying?”

“He puts things back together,” the old vampire said. “Broken things.” He narrowed his eyes. “Are you broken?”

None of your business.

Tatyana forced a smile. “Isn’t everyone?”

Lazlo picked up the empty carafe and stood. “Probably yes.” He lifted it and gave Tatyana a small salute. “You’re alive, Tatyana Vorona. You should stay that way for a while. No need to make any rash decisions.”

Tatyana didn’t see Oleg that night, and she wondered if the man was avoiding her after a long night of very passionate sex or if she was putting too much importance on it and he was simply busy.

She got half an answer when she walked out of the ballroom after her last hour with Oksana and nearly ran into Mika Arakis.

“Oleg is away from the house,” he said. “In case you were wondering.”

“Okay.” She wasn’t going to tell him she had been. It was none of his business, and she didn’t have the warmest regard for the Estonian vampire who hadn’t kept Elene and her alive.

It seemed like Mika was having thoughts along the same lines. “For the record, I am deeply sorry that you and Elene were taken by Zara’s people. I take full responsibility for that failure.”

She hadn’t expected that .

Tatyana looked over Mika’s shoulder to avoid his unnerving gaze.

She couldn’t forget what Oleg had told her. That Mika had loved Elene deeply for many years. “She didn’t blame you if that’s what you were wondering. She said it was her fault. That she didn’t think Zara would have so many people working with her.”

“I see.”

Now they were both avoiding each other’s eyes, and Tatyana was fine with that.

“Also for the record, I think Oleg should send you to the citadel for a year to let you recover and train. You have little to no survival skills for our world, and it would be best, but he is ignoring my advice.”

What Mika suggested sounded a lot like being locked up. “Well… I’m working on the survival skills. Oksana has been helping me train.”

Mika nodded sharply. “She is very competent. I’ll get a report from her on your progress. Let me know what kind of weapons training you would prefer and I will arrange it.”

“Uh…” She frowned. “Weapons?”

“You’re small, so some light sword training would probably be advantageous to increase your reach. Judo would also be good. Oleg prefers an axe, but he’s a barbarian.”

Tatyana shook her head. “I feel completely lost in this entire exchange. Can you get me a computer or smart phone that won’t blow up in my hands? That’s about the only kind of weapon I have any experience using.”

Mika cocked his head. “I can.”

Tatyana blinked. “Seriously?”

“There are devices made for us now. They are not elegant like your human electronics, but you would be able to use them with the proper precautions.”

“That’s the kind of weapon I want then.” She held out her hand to shake his.

Mika reluctantly reached out his hand and allowed Tatyana to pump it up and down. “I don’t like shaking hands.”

“Well, I don’t like drinking blood.” She let his hand go. “Get me a computer and a smartphone that I can use with an internet connection, and I’ll forgive you for letting me die.”

Mika sneered. “Fine.”

“Good.”

He looked at her with narrowed eyes. “I don’t know what you and Oleg are, but if you act cruelly toward him, I will finish the job that Zara started.”

Tatyana blinked. “You’re giving me the ‘if you hurt my friend, I’ll kill you’ speech?”

“Yes.”

“You’re giving that to me ?”

Mika nodded and said nothing else.

Tatyana lifted a hand and shook her head. “Everything in my life is officially backward.” She started walking back to her room. “Light is dark. Up is down. Night is day.”

“Drink the rest of your blood before dawn,” Mika called down the hallway.

“I was going to do that anyway,” she said. “So when I do it, do not think it was because you told me to.”