The Nightlife Moscow (Urban Fantasy and Paranormal Suspense) (The Nightlife Series Book 5) (6 page)

“When is it going down?”

Urvashi’s brow creased and she looked past Aaron, deeper
into the warehouse towards the other office cubicles the wolves had converted
into makeshift bedrooms. “They agreed to wait for Renault, but no longer.”

“What about Nikolay?”

Urvashi shrugged. “He’ll be fine once he changes. They are similar
to vampires in that respect. If he’s strong enough to change, the process is a
rebirth. His flesh will be made new again.”

Aaron nodded. He’d heard this before from Ivan – after he’d
saved Katya, and made her a bloodslave. From Urvashi’s wry grin, Aaron
suspected she knew exactly what he was thinking. Time to change the subject. “How
are we getting into Dmitri’s mansion?”

“It’s not really a mansion, though it looks that way from
the outside. It’s a fortress.”

“You’re not helping my confidence.”

Her finger tips slipped down around his waist as she moved
in to mold herself against him. She was wearing a black body suit and an ermine
fur coat. She might as well have been naked beneath the fur, for all the suit
hid of her lush curves. Her smooth sultry voice purred into his ear, almost a
whisper. “The wolves tried to waltz through the front door, thinking their
whore, Kristina, had paved the way. That was a trap. Now, without an insider,
the choices are limited. Unless we go in from the roof, we would need a battery
of tanks to get through Dmitri’s fences and walls.”

“Renault’s not bringing a tank? Not even a little one?” Though
teasing, Aaron would much rather roll through Dmitri’s fortress in a tank. He
didn’t care for the idea of reenacting a Jason Bourne film with some bullshit
roof assault. Vampire he may be, fast, strong, and wicked vicious, but bullets
hurt,
a lot
. He still remembered the bullet Jamison had put in his
shoulder and the other bullet he’d taken in the Vegas desert, the same shot that
had killed Anastasia. He had no desire to repeat the experiences.

Urvashi smiled and shook her head. They were going in
through the roof for lack of other options. Cuddled up against his master,
something she said struck him as strange. “What do you mean
their whore?
”

She sighed. “Katya never told you the story of Kristina?”

“She said Kristina was her niece …”

“Yes, but there’s much more to it. Over the years, Katya maintained
contact with her human family in Russia, mostly through letters. Some of them
know what she is. One of her distant family relations came to the pack for
help. Family drama, I guess. The wolf pack adopted the girl as their pet, a
cute little thing at the age of fourteen. Katya kept to herself in London,
visiting her great niece only occasionally. The girl grew up rather fast. A few
years later, before Katya knew what had happened, Kristina was banging half the
pack, passed around from bed to bed.”

Aaron shook his head, smiling.

Urvashi’s lips parted in a half-smile. “They are wolves,
yes, but still men. Don’t believe any of that ‘mated for life’ nonsense. The
girl didn’t mind the arrangement. She had all their affections, and they spent
money on her like a daughter.”

“Sounds like something the mafia would do.”

“This pack is old, Aaron. They come from a time when such
things were commonplace in Russia. They protected the girl as one of their own.
Everyone enjoyed her company, and it worked, until they recruited her to spy on
Dmitri.”

Aaron already knew how this story ended, but she held his
attention, and he needed to hear the rest. “He made her a bloodslave, right?”

“Of course. Dmitri surrounds himself with bloodslaves. Isn’t
that what you would do, if you had the chance?”

“Hey! Don’t compare me to …”

“Stop pretending.”

His mouth opened in defense, but she was right. If allowed
to follow his natural instincts, Aaron would collect all the women who caught
his eye, and spend his nights
entertaining
them. It seemed to be the
thing he was made for, collecting women.

“Sure, if Michelle wasn’t trying to hammer it out of me, and
if I was on my own, without you to answer to, something like that could happen.
But I do answer to you, and Michelle would never let me live in peace if I
tried to grab another bloodslave. You know this. It’s not my reality, so you
can stop throwing it in my face.”

She softened instantly. Instead of rising to his rebellion,
she sucked him in with delicious caresses and a juicy kiss. “My poor, sweet
Aaron. It’s easy to forget how very young you are. So much power and potential,
so little experience. I would never compare you to Dmitri. You are not cut of the
same cloth, and for that I’m grateful. I only want you to acknowledge the
truth. This is the path to acceptance, enlightenment, wisdom. We must all face
who we are, or forever live a lie.”

As usual, to Aaron’s chagrin, Urvashi’s council was sound. Her
seduction irresistible.

* * * *

Aaron caught Ivan coming out the door to Michelle’s room
with a shit-eating grin plastered on his face and his hands still working to
tuck his shirt into his half-buttoned jeans. A look of guilty apprehension
crossed Ivan’s face for a moment, then his grin resumed. He clapped Aaron on
the shoulder. “I think she is good. Like new again.”

He positively stunk of Michelle. Not just her perfume, but
her scent. The unique flavor of her body. Aaron had tasted every inch of
Michelle, and he knew that scent, intimately.

Aaron smiled back at Ivan. “I never doubted she’d recover
quickly. But will you?”

The big man paled and his eyes darted away from Aaron’s
piercing gaze. “I only gave her a little taste of blood. She is careful, no?”
Ivan looked worried.

“Sure thing. She’s more careful than I am. Just make sure
you’re careful too.” Aaron nodded at him and Ivan finished buttoning his pants.

“I have been dealing with vampires for a very long time.
Didn’t Katya tell you about Dmitri? Come, sit. Michelle is fine. Let me tell
you a story of Russia that’s not in the history books.” The wily old wolf
walked with freshly-fucked swagger as Aaron followed him over to the table.
Ivan pulled the cap off a half-full bottle of vodka, took a swig, and glanced
back at Aaron. “Well, it is Katya’s story, but I can tell you the beginning,
before she became involved.”

Aaron sat down for this. Ivan held his full, undivided
attention.

“You know of the royal family? The Czar, his wife, and their
son, Alexie?”

Aaron nodded. “Yeah, only what’s in the history books. I got
a C in history. They were killed by the Bolsheviks or something, right?”

Ivan snickered. “Or something. It all began with the man
named Rasputin.”

* * * *

“Historians call Rasputin a gypsy, a con artist. Some even
said he was a vagrant. None of them understood the power of the man I knew, his
charisma, his generosity of spirit. He was a born leader – not of countries or
politicians – a leader of friends and family. People came to him to solve
problems. He was the alpha of our pack, our leader. He was my father.”

Aaron could hardly swallow the idea that Ivan was related to
this infamous historical figure. “You mean biological father?”

“No.” Ivan chugged a couple more swigs of vodka and wiped
his mouth with the back of his hand. “He gave me the gift of his blood, the
gift of the wolf. Saved my life.”

Now that, Aaron could identify with. Michelle’s blood had
saved Aaron’s life, literally. Blasted in the chest from a police handgun,
Aaron had been bleeding to death in Michelle’s arms when she made the decision
to give him her blood.

“I had pneumonia. Often fatal in those days. On my death
bed, Rasputin gave me new life. In return, I pledged my life to his service, to
the pack.”

A sense of reverence poured off Ivan as he spoke of Rasputin
as though he’d been an anointed saint. Ivan’s eyes twinkled in reminiscence.
“Mother Russia was a very different place then. Life was hard and the nobility
held little respect for the rest of the country, but I wonder if it was a better
time than this post-Soviet mess we have now.”

Ivan downed another gulp of vodka. “We were happy, the pack.
There were many back then, well over twenty. If only he’d stayed away from the
royal family…” Ivan shook his head. “But Rasputin was convinced he could gain
the Empress’s favor and reveal himself to her, to save the boy, Alexie.”

“Huh?”

“Imagine if Emperor Nicholas had been given a chance to
raise a young, healthy, educated Alexie, strong enough to stand up to the
people, strong enough to bring his country into the twentieth century without
all the bloodshed and revolution. Imagine the young prince as a wolf, with
Rasputin at his side.”

“Weren’t there a bunch of revolutionaries, angry mobs?
Bloody Sunday and all that?”

Ivan nodded and chugged back more vodka. “Everyone was angry
with the mess of World War I. Poverty, starvation, the economy was in ruin. Our
cities had factories everywhere, thousands of men toiling away their days for
meager paychecks. Most were foreign owned factories. We were the cheap labor of
Europe, producing goods for everyone else, yet we walked home on dirt roads and
traveled in horse-drawn carts. The Russian people did not reap the benefits of
our own industrial revolution. Labor Unions screamed in the streets as workers
who earned too little and paid too much taxes listened to new ideals of
strength
in unity
and political reform.”

“Bloody Sunday only made it worse. The nobility, once
respected and feared, had become hated. They sat in their mansions and
pretended the problem didn’t exist. They had not learned the lessons of France
two centuries earlier. Sometimes I think that humanity is doomed to repeat the
same mistakes of history, over and over again.”

“Our pack had evaded the war. We slipped between the cracks
of society and roamed the countryside with the Gypsies, but Rasputin felt a deep
sense of responsibility to the people. He envisioned dark days to come, a great
political upheaval. There was truth to the rumors that he was a
Staret
,
a mystic, psychic. He had clairvoyant visions and insisted on working his
way into the social circles of the Czar. He thought he could help.”

Aaron glanced at the early morning dawn creeping through the
cracks in the boarded up windows. The daylight lethargy was on him, but, unlike
Michelle, he could function during the day. Another side effect of Urvashi’s
blood in his system. Still, he hated being awake in the day. It just felt wrong.

Ivan noticed the dawn’s rays piercing the dusty interior of
the warehouse and grinned like the wolf hiding beneath his skin. Ivan’s fingers
traced the light, and Aaron rose to the challenge by dipping his hand through
the sunbeam that once would have roasted his skin.

“This I still do not understand, how you can walk and talk
in the daylight. You are very different from other vampires. Dmitri was the
first vampire I met, at court, in St. Petersburg. Rasputin dragged me to court
many times, but I am a simple wolf. The world of the wealthy and influential is
not for me.” Ivan shook his head.

“Dmitri moved among the nobles and attended their parties as
though born to it. I had no idea what he was back then. I only knew he smelled
different. I hated him, instantly. Of course, he knew what we were, just like
you did.”

Aaron recalled the precise moment he’d met Ivan and Katya in
London. Their scent alone identified them as something more than human.
Michelle had seen it in their auras, and dropped her teeth, ready to brawl. The
old legends and Hollywood films are at least partially true, vampires and
werewolves are a natural enemy of sorts.

Ivan watched Aaron, as if reading his thoughts. A sly grin
reached his mouth. “Dmitri hated Rasputin intensely. Me, I did not exist, no
more than a stray dog on the street. The Dukes were split on the issue.
Rasputin had a certain … magnetism, and he knew how to play a crowd. He had a
way with the ladies. Many a Duchess entertained our alpha in their private
chambers. In fact, I believe it was the Duchesses’ chatter which eventually led
Rasputin to a friendship with the Empress herself. Women talk of such things
men should not hear.”

Aaron knew exactly what Ivan meant. He’d browsed through
plenty of female minds with his roving telepathy, and encountered thoughts he
never imagined women would entertain.

“Dmitri had the ear of most of the noble families. He was a
force of influence and power at court, especially with the Dukes. He feigned
nobility, but who can say. Vampires are the original forgers and identity
thieves. When a creature lives so many decades, he can no longer stay in the
same place and use the same name.”

Great, a centuries-old scheming vampire
. How the hell
were they supposed to kill a creature who had survived that long? Aaron could
only imagine all the knowledge and experience Dmitri had amassed in his years.

“Rasputin soon figured out what the leech was about. Dmitri
wanted to overturn the throne and replace the Czar with one of the Dukes under
his influence.”

“That’s not in the history books.”

Ivan grimaced with another swallow of the vodka bottle that
was mostly empty. “I told Rasputin to stay out of this business. What can a
band of gypsies hope to affect upon the rulers of a nation?” Ivan shook his head.
“He believed that one person could make a difference. And I believed in him. I
know he could have done it.”

Unshed tears glistened in Ivan’s steel blue eyes. “We should
have killed the bastard leech back then. I argued for action. We were our own
army. But Dmitri had so much power, and money. He could manipulate generals. It
would have been suicide, even with our numbers.”

Aaron scratched his chin in thought.
Kinda like the
suicide mission they planned in a few hours?

“Prince Alexei, had been sick for a long time. The Empress
trusted only Rasputin to treat the boy. Rasputin intended to give the boy the
gift of his blood very soon. Dmitri must have found out, or he finally realized
Rasputin’s plan. The rest is history.”

“They poisoned his wine, right?”

“Yes, and his food. Rasputin never refused hospitality. He
thought those snakes were his friends. Has any nobleman ever truly been a
friend to a gypsy? They had him fooled. Still, he was not easy to kill. None of
us are.”

Ivan finished off the vodka bottle and pegged Aaron with an
intense stare. “They poisoned him, shot him, stabbed him, and finally drowned
him in the ice-covered waters outside the Yusupov Palace at St. Petersburg. It
took five men to bring him down. The history books don’t talk of the three men
he killed in his attempt to escape.”

Ivan’s fist slammed on the table and the empty vodka bottle
wobbled with the impact. He was reliving these moments. Strong emotion surged
through his face and his arms popped with tendons and strength as he trembled.
A century gone by and still Ivan harbored such intense hatred.

Katya, looking half-asleep in her heavy coat and PJ’s,
slinked up behind Ivan, and reached an arm around him for a sisterly hug. “Wasn’t
it you who lectured me on letting go of the past?”

Ivan visibly relaxed, then glanced to Aaron, a half-grin on
his face. Ivan had pushed Katya to let go of the brutal history the pack had
with Michelle and join the vampires hunt for London.

Katya smiled sweetly at Ivan and glanced back and forth
between the men. “Why the old stories?”

“He needs to know what kind of monster we face.”

Yes, what kind of monster were they facing, who could
intimidate Ivan, a man who seemed utterly fearless?

Katya snorted in disgust. “He’s a ruthless, cunning, vicious
creature, who has no respect for life. None at all.”

Aaron waved her over, and Katya eyed him suspiciously.
“Please, let’s keep each other warm.” He watched her face as his logic overcame
her patent rejection of his charms. She could never come to him, without
question, without reservation. But she did come to him, which would have to do
for now.

She snuggled in and scooched her ass onto his lap. She fit
nicely on him, and the slight smile that tugged at her lips was all the reward
he needed. Finally, one of those rare moments where they were happy together –
no underlying tension.

Planting a smooch on Katya’s cheek, he looked to Ivan. “So
what happened after Rasputin was murdered?”

Ivan growled. “Dmitri came for us with his Cossack
mercenaries and guns loaded with silver bullets.”

Aaron could hardly believe the television shows and myths
had it right. He pinched Katya’s left ass cheek. “You gotta be shitting me!
Silver? Does it work?”

Katya pinched him back. “It’s an allergy! No more deadly
than any other fucking bullet made of metal.” She rolled her eyes impatiently. “I
can’t wear silver jewelry. It makes me break out in hives.”

Ivan interrupted. “The people were superstitious then.
Silver, crosses, holy water, bibles, rosaries. Gypsies have always been
persecuted by the superstitious. They called us “
Griazniy tsigan
–
filthy gypsies.”

“We tried to fight them off. But there were too many. They
killed three good men, and the rest of us fled with our tails between our legs,
like dogs. Two years later we heard quiet rumors of the royal family’s exile in
Ekaterinburg and risked coming out of hiding. The Czar and his entire family
were being held under house arrest. Compared to the majesty of The Winter
Palace in St. Petersburg, it was a shack. We watched the house from the woods,
day and night. We even managed to get a wolf inside as one of the guards. But
this part is Katya’s story. She should tell it.”

She leaned her head against Aaron’s shoulder and he sensed a
great wave of melancholy coming off her. She was resigned to tell him, but she
couldn’t mask the sadness of remembrance. “I was a simple maid, a farm girl who
foolishly took a job in the city. I should have stayed home in the country, but
I was the youngest sister of three, a brat who balked at her father’s rule and
rushed off with the first boy to get his hands up my skirt.”

Wishing he could get his hands in her pants again, Aaron had
a hard time envisioning Katya so young and impetuous. The woman sitting in his
lap was far older and wiser than he, and not easily seduced. The first time
he’d tried to get his hands on her, she put a gun in his face.

Katya’s eyes took on a faraway look of sentimentality and
sadness. “My boyfriend, Chevsky, was one of the guards. He thought it was a
great job, nothing to do but guard the Royal Family who sat in their apartments
all day long, minding their business in mute whispers and hushed family
meetings. They had been hidden away from the world, never setting foot outside
the door of their house-made-prison. Apart from the maids, the guards, and some
high up Bolshevik officials, no one knew they were there. No one knew the night
the Bolsheviks changed all the guards and marched the whole family to the
basement to be slaughtered like animals. No trial, no judge, no jury. It was cold,
calculated murder.”

Aaron hated to ask the question that hung in the air between
them,
how did she survive?

“Ealier there were rumors that the Czechs were advancing with
the White Army, coming to liberate us from the Bolsheviks. The Bolsheviks were
shitting their pants. They held the royal family under arrest, under the color
of law, a band of revolutionaries with a shaky hold on the country. Chevsky
told me to leave that night, but I sensed something strange about the new guards.
They looked about in furtive glances, and yet avoided eye contact. Like an
idiot, I stayed. Chevsky left me there, the bastard.”

Aaron rubbed Katya’s back, trying to release the tension he
sensed coiling inside her.

“These new guards came from another city, complete
strangers. It never occurred to me what that might mean, why the entire guard
would be changed, removing all the locals who had become familiar with the Czar
and his family. They were a death squad.”

A shiver ran down Katya’s body, a chill she still held in
her soul from that night so long ago. She looked at him, and her eyes were
haunted with torments of things that can never be unseen. “The Czar and his
wife were kind people. I knew from the way they treated me, and the other
servants. And their children.” Katya barely contained a sob as a tear rolled
down the side of her face. “I cooked their meals, made their beds, bathed them
– beautiful, lovely children.”