by Selena Scott
A look of profound relief crossed Emin’s face. It was immediately followed by a look of profound nerves, but still he tugged Ivy toward him, kissed her cheek and embraced her.
“I gave you Polina Petrakova for little more than the price of a black eye,” Maxim said in Belarusian to his brother from where he stood on the front porch. “But for this one you will lose limb. And then you still can’t have her.”
Emin unhanded Ivy and raised an eyebrow at his brother. “First of all, you didn’t give me Polina Petrakova, I took her. And second of all, a man doesn’t cheat on a tiger wife,” he replied. “And even though your woman is pretty, and interesting-looking,” he picked up a chunk of her turquoise hair, “I will never steal another woman from you. Unless you steal Glory from me.”
Ivy looked back and forth at the two brothers scowling and griping in their home language. “What’s going on here, boys?”
Suddenly Emin turned to Ivy, took her by the chin. “I ask Maxim if he wants painting of you. He said yes. Which is good because you have good face that I want to paint.”
“Are you kidding?” Ivy asked, furrowing her brow. “I’m hardly a classic beauty.”
It hadn’t been what they were talking about, but the moment Emin suggested it, Maxim was taken with the idea. He very much wanted a painting of her. “You are more beautiful than classic,” he said as he waved a hand through the air. “Classic is boring. You are never boring, rusalka.”
He bounded down the stairs and circled her waist with his hands, bending to take her mouth in a kiss. Emin raised his eyebrows. He’d been pretty sure his brother was taken with this woman. And with her child. But seeing it with his own eyes was something else. Maxim in love. Maxim with a woman. A real woman. One who could handle all that love.
“I come in for leftovers and playing with boy,” Emin said, brushing past them. “And then I take boy for weekend. Little mother said so.”
***
Lana watched the weeks pass with the twin sensations of anticipation and frustration. She had her eye on the boy. He was perfect for the experiments she had in mind. She figured that by age ten they could have him molded into the perfect shifter.
She hadn’t told Sergei her plans yet; he’d just argue, make it harder. So she planned on telling him when it was all said and done. When the boy was in her possession and the first injections had been made and there was no going back.
She would have taken him weeks ago, at the beginning of the summer, if not for the fact that he couldn’t control his shifts yet. Ironically, the Malashoviks were almost preparing him for her abduction by slowly, methodically training him. He was no use to her until he could will the shift on command. And he was close. Very close.
She squinted her eyes as she watched the little bear through her surveillance screen. It was hard to tell without audio, but she was fairly certain that he was getting very close to shifting on his own. That was a good sign. She watched with detached fascination as the big bear and the little bear ambled through the woods, sniffing and chasing one another.
What she wouldn’t give to take Maxim as well. He was such a beautiful specimen. As a bear and as a man. He would make an amazing soldier. And an even more amazing lover. She couldn’t deny that she was bored with Sergei.
But who else could she turn to after they’d been exiled to America? It didn’t do to turn him into an enemy. Then they would both lose their minds of boredom and sexual starvation. When you’re dying of thirst, it’s better to have some warm tap water than to hold out for an icy Evian.
Still. She sighed as she trailed one finger down the screen, Maxim’s large body underneath her hand.
“What are you doing?” Sergei’s voice came from behind her. Lana forced herself not to jump.
“I’m looking at their relationship to the boy,” she replied. She’d have to tell him half the truth or else she’d risk him telling on her to the president. She didn’t think he’d hesitate. Even if it got her killed. In some ways, he’d probably be relieved.
“You think we can use the boy to get to Anton?”
She’d already given up on Anton. Was sick of him. Wished that she’d never heard his name. All that lovely work of hers just down the drain. And he hadn’t even used the real powers that she’d given him. All these years and he’d never shown anybody just how dangerous he could be. What a waste. She could barely talk about it.
But he was still the president’s target. He was still Sergei’s target. They didn’t have to know that the little bear was now her principal target.
She nodded slowly. “They all have quite an attachment to him.”
“Especially Maxim,” Sergei replied, lighting a cigarette for Lana and then one for himself. It was an absent-minded gesture, but one that vaguely moved her. Yes, she would miss Sergei if her new plan got him assassinated. She sure as hell wasn’t going down for it. “We would have to get through Maxim to get to the boy. We don’t have the soldier power for that right now. And we certainly don’t have the soldier power to get through multiple Malashoviks if they happen to be together.”
He had a point. No question. It was why she’d given up on Anton. They’d need an army of at least ten, maybe twenty shifters to take Anton. He was that strong. And if his brothers were there, well forget it. There weren’t enough shifters in the world. And certainly not enough shifters whom they’d tampered with, turned into soldiers. Ever since they’d destroyed their prime soldier last fall, the one that Lana had put years into developing, well, they’d had to go back to the drawing board. They simply didn’t have the manpower.
But she’d already thought of that.
“No, this one lives alone. With his little mama. Maxim doesn’t even sleep over. They drive around town alone, even go for walks in the woods, just the two of them. Plenty of opportunity to take him.”
Sergei squinted his eyes, took a drag on his cigarette. “You’re thinking that we take the boy, leave a trail, and when they come for him, we’re ready. We take back Anton, and we take whichever other brother we can get our hands on.”
That wasn’t her plan. Her plan was to take the boy seamlessly, without a trace. They’d never find him. And if they ever did, he’d already be a transformed shifter, farther along the path than even Anton was. He’d be her murderous little pet. But she didn’t tell Sergei that. The details could be worked out later.
“Yes,” she told him.
Sergei let out a puff of smoke. “It’s a good plan. I’ll make some calls. Make sure the lab in the Cascades is ready for that kind of siege. And ready to hold that many specimens. They don’t know about that lab, so it would be a shame to expose it. But it’s also the only one we have that could possibly do the job.”
It was the same lab that Lana had considered. Only, she knew that its secret location would stay that way. Linc was the only one who would ever know where it was. And as soon as she got him there, he wouldn’t be Linc anymore. He’d be whatever she made of him.
CHAPTER TEN
After almost her entire life living with her mother as a tiger shifter, and then six months in Navuka’s clutches, Glory didn’t think there was anything more marvelous than a party with a bunch of people she loved. And, boy, did she love them. Glory couldn’t help but grin as she looked around Katya’s backyard at everybody scattered around.
Dora stood at the grill, flipping burgers and elbowing Ilya away from the extra spatula. Maxim and Linc raced matchbox cars over the deck stairs and as she watched, Maxim raced one of them up Ivy’s bare legs, losing it in her shorts. Glory watched in delight as Ivy turned a little pink, raising an eyebrow and shaking the car back out. Emin, Katya, and Danil carried loads of food out of the house and set it on the big picnic table. Glory took a private moment to watch her husband.
He was so beautiful, dark gold and defined. And he’d put a baby in her. They’d have their own little family soon. And they got to take Linc home for a sleepover tonight! Practice, Emin had called it.
She’d
have to tell her mother soon, Glory knew. And her eyes trailed over to the lawn chairs where Serena sat next to Brett. Her mother looked so lovely in love. Glory knew the look, she saw it on her own face all the time. It gave her a complicated little pinch to think about sharing her mother, but mostly she wanted everyone in the world to have what she had with Emin. And Brett was such a nice man.
And if Brett and Serena got married, then AJ and Glory would be sisters! Of course, that could also happen if AJ and Anton got married. Glory looked back and forth between the two of them, where they stood on opposite sides of the party like usual.
Anton was refusing to look in AJ’s direction, which he always did. He’d told Glory a secret a while ago, almost when they’d first met. It was when Anton was so sad. He was often sad. But this time he’d told Glory something that she’d sworn she’d never tell. She wished she hadn’t sworn it. She looked at AJ, whose eyes were following Anton as he skirted the edge of the party. Glory really didn’t think this had to be quite as complicated as Anton was making it.
Glory sighed and went to sit on her husband’s lap. She didn’t want to overthink tonight. She just wanted to feel and feel and feel.
“What is with Wonder Woman?” Anton asked as he slid down on the grass next to Linc. He plucked at Linc’s shirt, complete with a Wonder Woman logo and portrait.
Linc shrugged and drove his car through the grass. The car was so little that each blade of grass was like a tree in a jungle. The people in the car were on a safari.
“He’s always liked Wonder Woman,” Ivy answered. “Since he was a baby.”
“Not Superman? Batman?” Anton asked Linc.
Linc shook his head. “Wonder Woman looks like Mama. That’s why I like her.”
“Linc!” Ivy blushed to her roots. “You never told me that.”
Maxim, leaning against the deck steps, reached over and took Ivy by the chin, turned her face this way and that. “He is right. You do.” He grinned at Anton and spoke in Belarusian. “I’m fucking Wonder Woman.”
Anton grinned back.
“I don’t know what you just said, but I don’t think I would like it.” Ivy narrowed her eyes at them. “I don’t look like Wonder Woman. My nose is too big.”
“Your nose is not too big. It is nose of normal woman. You have the kind of pretty that surrounds a man, comforts him,” Anton said, squinting his eyes at her. His gaze was so intense that Ivy found herself squirming a little. There was something about Anton, something dark and ever present that made him mysterious and thrilling. Like hot sauce when you weren’t expecting it. Ivy could see why AJ felt the way she did for him. But personally, Ivy was glad she was in love with one of the less complicated brothers.
She froze. Stood up on the deck stairs. Sat back down.
In love?
Oh holy rolling Moses. This was bad.
Of all the dumbass shit she’d ever done in her life - and there was a list - this was the worst. Ivy turned and gazed at Maxim in absolute horror. She’d fallen in love with him? How the fuck could she have done that to herself? Was she some kind of lunatic masochist or something?
Maybe she was wrong. She was overthinking it. In love was just a phrase. It didn’t actually correspond to what was in her heart. She didn’t have anything in her heart for Maxim except good will and gratitude. What she was feeling was lust and gratitude. Yeah, she consoled herself, it was confusing, was all.
But she wasn’t in love. She definitely wasn’t in love.
And she needed something to do, goddamn it. Anyone would be confused lounging around watching her son play in the yard with a handsome man. She just needed to go do some menial task and get her head out of the clouds and back in the game.
Ivy stood up again, ignoring the inquisitive looks of Anton and Maxim and strode right into the kitchen. Katya was busying herself with the finishing touches on a salad and Ivy practically hip-checked her aside.
“I’ll finish up here, Katya!” Her voice was too loud and tinny, like through an old radio.
Katya raised the Malashovik eyebrow but didn’t push. She knew a woman on the edge when she saw one. And in Katya’s mind, Ivy had been through a great deal over the last few months. The woman was entitled to a kitchen freak-out every once in awhile.
Out on the deck, Dora swung her hips in front of the grill and turned up the radio. She was happy. Good and happy. This last year had been a dream for her. No. More than a dream. Almost an alternate reality. Or like her old, lonely life had been an alternate reality and this was her real life.
One that was filled with parents and brothers and sisters-in-law. She glanced up, could see Ivy through the kitchen window. She wondered if Ivy knew she was a goner. That once a Malashovik boy made up his mind on you, there was no sense in fighting it. She looked back over at Maxim, saw him nodding his head to the beat of the song that was playing. Dora remembered the first time she’d ever seen Maxim dance. Dora liked Ivy. She wouldn’t mind having her for a sister. She supposed that if there was any way that Ivy hadn’t tumbled over the edge for Maxim yet, well, it wasn’t illegal to help things along. Dora turned the song up even louder, knowing exactly what the result would be.
Maxim was feeling good. A warm summer night, burgers on the grill, so many people he loved all in one place. And this song on the radio. God, he loved this song. He stood up and slid over the slats of the deck, smooth and confident. Grabbing Glory off his brother’s lap, he whirled her around, dipped her back while she shouted with delighted laughter. Glory waved her hands in the air like the happy little flower child she was and Maxim dropped down next to her, the beat thrumming through him.
Linc watched from the side of the deck, moving his own little hips as he watched Maxim dance.
He wasn’t the only one watching. The rest of the Malashoviks were very used to Maxim’s moves at this point. But Ivy had never seen them. She stood, framed in the screen door, the salad in her hands. She watched Maxim dance with a funny, loose-tight feeling in her stomach. Something like panic was crawling up her throat, while something warm and soft was descending around her heart.
“Goddamn it,” she muttered to herself as the song changed and she watched Maxim effortlessly glide into a funky two-step to match the tone.
Dora appeared out of nowhere, took the salad from Ivy’s hands. “Did you say something?”
“What? No. I just - I didn’t know Maxim could dance so well.”
Dora bit her lip to keep in her smile. “Yeah, he’s always on the dance floor at some point or other when we go to the bar. You wouldn’t think he would have the moves since he’s such a big guy, but there you go.”
“He’s always been like that,” AJ chimed in, walking up to the other women and snatching a tomato off the top of the salad. “As long as I’ve known him, he’s just looked good when he was dancing. He makes you look better when you’re dancing with him, too. Kind of a ‘let me handle this for you, baby’ kind of thing.” She cocked her head to one side and watched him. “I think it’s his shoulders. He knows how to move his shoulders.”
“No, I think it’s in the hips,” Dora said.
“I think it’s both.” Ivy couldn’t keep the frustration out of her tone. He sure was not making this easy on her. Brave, good-looking fireman, who called when he said he would, tucked her son into bed, fucked like Hercules, AND could dance? This was torture. Her breath caught in her chest as she watched her son dance onto the deck.
“Like this?” Linc asked Maxim, shaking his head and his hips.
“Sure,” Maxim replied easily. “If it feels good. But women like when you dance like this.” He bent down and put his hands on Linc’s shoulders, moved him one way and then the other.
Linc followed directions easily, smiling up at him.
“Good,” Maxim said. “Now move hips like this.” He showed him and Linc imitated the movement. “Good. Now the last step is the face. Face is very important when dancing. You must either smile very big or look very serious. Nothing in
between.”
Linc looked very serious and Maxim smiled very big.
They looked related, Ilya thought to himself as he watched the two boys dance. They weren’t, by blood. But they sure looked like family.
“I feel like I wanna shift,” Linc said up to Maxim, still dancing.
“What do you mean?” Maxim asked. Linc still hadn’t quite mastered how to shift on his own, at will. He was able to control it when it was happening to him, but he couldn’t summon it yet.
“I dunno,” Linc said. “I just wanna shift.”
He grabbed the hem of his shirt and dragged it over his head. Next came his shorts and his Wonder Woman underwear.
“Ace!” Ivy started across the deck, wondering why the hell her kid was stripping in the middle of a cookout. He wasn’t usually an attention-getter this way.
Maxim grabbed Ivy by the waist, spun her around and away from Linc. “Let him be,” he whispered in her ear. “I think he might shift on his own.”
Ivy effortlessly danced along with Maxim. Dora was impressed to see that Ivy was a pretty damn good dancer herself. But most eyes were on Linc, who was squeezing his eyes shut, clenching his fists.
“Let it come,” Maxim whispered, watching Linc. “Let it wash over you, little bear.”
And it did.
One second he was a little naked boy standing in the middle of the party, and the next he was a bear cub, falling back on his haunches in surprise.
The Malashoviks let out a roar. Ilya smacked his hands together, did a little, fast two-step and kissed his wife. Danil and Emin smacked their hands together. Even Anton grinned.
Ivy and Maxim fell to their knees around Linc, hugging and praising and pressing their faces into his fur.
