Empress of Poisons ARC

by Bree Porter

  My mind was in the gutter before I could stop it. Anticipation of what was to come–literally–warmed my blood.

  “That look you’re giving me is dangerous,” he mused, eyes darkening with lust.

  “What look?” I pressed my lips to his, grinning against his mouth as his hands on my hips tightened. I felt him harden beneath my thigh. “If we have sex so soon after dinner, you’ll get a stitch.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Mmm.”

  The kiss deepened, our tongues entangling and teeth clashing. Flames ignited beneath the skin where his hands were resting.

  “Oi, you two!” Roman yelled, breaking up the kiss. The look Kon sent him was terrifying. “We’ve just eaten,” explained the byki beneath his Pakhan’s glare.

  “Leave them alone,” Danika fussed. “They just got married.”

  I leaned my head against Kon’s, rubbing my cheek against his. “If you thought we were bad before, brother, you’re about to be horrified.”

  My family laughed while Roman bitched under his breath about PDA. He had ignored Danika and she caved in on herself, forcing a smile for Natalia who inquired if she was okay.

  “Mama!” Niko came darting into the room, holding something in his hand.

  “What have you got there, wild boy?” I asked.

  He came right over to me and his dad, presenting the bag clutched between his palms. It was held together by a black ribbon.

  “This is for you, Mama.”

  I took it from his hands. “What…”

  “The nice lady said it’s yours,” Niko told me.

  Kon snapped his head to his son. “What lady, Nikolai?”

  He pointed outside. “The one out there.”

  Artyom was up in a flash, followed by Dmitri. I climbed off Kon’s lap, eyes trained on the bag. One pull to the ribbon revealed to us what we had already suspected–a pile of teeth, yellow and white, sat in the middle.

  Nausea rose in me, hard and fast.

  Niko pulled himself up on the table. “Ewww.”

  “Take him upstairs,” Kon snapped. “Now.” He was no longer my handsome husband who kissed me like he was addicted to my lips, but instead the Pakhan of the Tarkhanov Bratva, terrifying and violent.

  I pulled Niko onto my hip, ignoring his cries of denial. Evva and Anton were dragged into the house by Artyom, who gave them to Roksana and commanded her to go upstairs. She hesitated before turning and leaving. I passed Niko to her as she went, a conversation transferring between our eyes.

  I’ll take care of him, her expression promised.

  Parting from him was like cutting open my skin but I needed to see where that bitch had been, where she had dared to approach my baby.

  The world was moving too quickly. The men and Natalia had gone outside, calling for Vory and the dogs. Only Danika stayed inside with me, uncharacteristically quiet and morose.

  The teeth seemed to stare at me from the table. Even Babushka didn’t go near them.

  “How did she get onto the estate.” It wasn’t a question.

  Danika had no answer for me. She seemed as shaken as I was.

  Shouts grew louder outside, and I gathered the courage to venture into the dark garden. The cold nipped at my skin, seeping into my bones.

  Konstantin stood near the mouth of the woods, expression indescribable. He had never worn his fury so clearly in front of his men, and from the paleness to their features, they were aware of this fact.

  “I want every inch of this land searched,” his voice was quiet but nothing about it was soft. “Wake everyone up and fetch the other dogs. No one sleeps until she is found.”

  I scanned the garden. It was hard to see anything in the dark of the night, even the glow of the house didn’t illuminate the thorny bushes and overgrown flora. I knew this estate like the back of my hand, I had trekked over every stretch of dirt and grass, I had climbed everything I could.

  How did she come in?

  The men circled the perimeter while the dogs lurked over the woods and gardens. It was impossible to miss them. If you managed to get past the men, a dog would find you; if you managed to sneak past the dogs, a Vory would spot you.

  I wrapped my arms around myself as icy wind blew over me.

  “Go inside, Elena,” Konstantin said. “You’re going to freeze.”

  “I’m fine.”

  My eyes ran over the garden once again, catching onto the shadowed well. The bucket swung in the breeze.

  The well.

  My eyes dropped down to the ground. Sprinklers jutted at random out of the ground–they hadn’t been used in years.

  The banya entered my mind suddenly, the catacombs beneath the baths filling my brain.

  Thoughts began to twist through my mind like wisteria climbing over a house. Tatiana had stayed hidden for three years, every mafia boss in the US had been hunting for her, on the ground, at sea and in the sky.

  But they didn’t check underground.

  “She’s in the sewers.”

  Kon snapped his head to me. A few of his men stopped. “What?”

  “New York has hundreds of abandoned tunnels underground,” I said. “Old train stations, old sewers and Cold War bunkers. She’s using them.”

  He didn’t waste a second. “Take the dogs now. There is a manhole by the main gate. If she was in our sewers, that’s the closest one.”

  The dogs found her scent immediately.

  Tatiana had used the sewers beneath the estate to travel past the Vory and dogs. They were all interconnected. One manhole in the suburbs could lead to the one next to our house. She had known that, exploiting them like the rat she was.

  For hours, we discussed and fought each other in the study. Insults and pillows were thrown, but hugs and comfort were also shared. There were questions that had no answers, solutions that had no support. War was declared but so was peace.

  I offered my plan again. Konstantin shut me down.

  When the dawn arrived, I called it quits. I may love my family but there was only so much I could take. I didn’t have Kon’s endless patience–even if motherhood had given me some more. A piercing headache formed in the front of my head, so painful I had to cover my eyes to reduce the agony.

  Kon found me leaning against Niko’s bed in the dark. My son slept peacefully, not stirring when his father joined me on the ground.

  I looked around Niko’s room. He had chosen everything he wanted in it, the walls green and the bedsheets patterned with dinosaurs. Every time Kon cleaned it, another mess sprung up. From scattered shoes to ignored toys and broken books. Niko got his inability to be neat from me–my husband liked to remind me constantly of this fact.

  On the nightstand was a photo of Niko and me. I had taken it randomly when he was thirteen months. He was asleep on my lap, the awkward angle of the camera showing his bloated belly and scruffy hair. I looked exhausted but was smiling for the camera, arm stretched out as far as it would go to try and minimise how much of my face was detailed.

  I hadn’t brought the photo with me but Kon had sent some men to our past home to gather personal items. I had cried when he presented the photo albums to me.

  “She spoke to my son.” I said in the dark.

  “I know.”

  “She…” Emotion clogged up my throat, a mixture of anger and despair. “She spoke to my baby, got close to my child. The teeth…”

  Kon took me in his arms, sharing his strength with me. “I know, lyubimaya. Trust me, I know.” His voice had softened but I could hear the fury clinging to every syllable.

  I closed my eyes briefly. “I’m going.”

  He didn’t say anything.

  “I’m going to destroy her, Kon. In the three years, she has been at large, not a single boss has come close to taking her down.” I snapped my eyes open, meeting his gaze in the dark. “I will do what none of you could. I will tear her apart limb by limb and use her blood to water my plants.
”

  Kon pressed his lips to mine, not out of affection, but to claim. “Show them all what happens when they threaten our son. Let the world know what creature I had married to my side, Elena Tarkhanov, and the terror she is capable of.”

  30

  Elena Tarkhanov

  She was waiting for me in between the apple trees.

  The ice-kissed branches offered her shelter from the moon and stars, letting shadows bunch around her like the loyal servants they were. Her dark coat allowed her to blend but the brilliant color of her eyes stopped her from disappearing all together.

  If I didn’t know who she was, I might think I had come across a predator in the night.

  You have, a small voice said in my mind.

  Tatiana said nothing as I made my way over to her. The only sound was the crunch of hail beneath my boots.

  “Thank you for meeting with me.” My voice was controlled and tight.

  Never let her see what’s going on inside of you, lyubimaya, my husband had warned me. The beast inside of you should be hidden until you need it to leap forward.

  “Have you reconsidered my offer?” She asked.

  Amid the darkness, I spotted figures moving about. Tatiana’s loyal men.

  “I have.”

  Tatiana turned her head, her attention as piercing as the icy wind. “I am very pleased to hear that, Elena. How can I be sure I can trust you?”

  I pulled back my hood, revealing the bruise that bloomed over my cheekbone. Danika had shown me how to do it with a door, explaining that sometimes she got prisoners to warm up to her by pretending to also be a prisoner. It had hurt–but seeing Konstantin’s expression when he had spotted the mark had felt worse.

  Tatiana’s eyes went straight to it. “Men.”

  “I’m not my mother,” I said. “I am much smarter, and I will not succumb to the same fate as her.”

  The words struck their intended mark. Her expression tightened. “No, neither will I.”

  We stood together in silence until she said, “Your son?”

  “Your son?” I repeated.

  “All men do is take,” was her reply. “I can teach you how to take as well. I’ll share my greed with you, Elena, and you will have everything you desire. You’ll never have to be stolen from again.”

  I smiled, meeting her eyes. I let her see what she wanted to see…and what lived inside of me. “I look forward to it.”

  When she stepped into the cloud of shadows, I followed and I did not look back.

  Part Three –

  The Bratva Empress.

  “Tools of men are not inherently evil.

  It is how they are used.”

  – Helen A. Strindberg, otherwise known as Elena Tarkhanov.

  31

  Konstantin Tarkhanov

  I looked across the table at my fellow mob bosses, assessing their every move and twitch.

  We had decided on a vacant office building as our meeting place to discuss Tatiana. After days of discussion, it was the only neutral place all five of us would agree to. Our men lined the walls and hallways, some even circling the building like sharks swimming around their prey.

  The air was thick with distrust and wariness.

  Chen Qiang, Shan Chu of the Chen Triad; Thomas Sr Ó Fiaich, Boss of the Ó Fiaich Mob; Mitsuzo Ishida, Oyabun of the Ishida Yakuza; Giovanni Vigliano, Don of the Vigliano Famiglia.

  And me.

  Konstantin Tarkhanov, Pakhan of the Tarkhanov Bratva.

  Five of the world’s most powerful men in one room. If the pedestrians that strolled on the streets below us were privy to these meetings, they would lose all faith in democracy and government. Who was elected had never been the true leader, it has always been my kind.

  We chose what drugs and money and pleasures you were allowed. We drew the borders and we fought wars over territories. Let the congressmen and senators fight in their cushy chambers with gold-plated name tags, let them believe they reign over anything.

  All the decisions that mattered occurred in rooms just like this one and were made by men just like me.

  Didn’t that just horrify you?

  Today, there was one topic we had come to discuss. Tatiana.

  In the years since her reveal and disappearance, my relationship to my fellow mob bosses had been both tense and suspicious. I had failed by allowing our largest enemy to live in my house, eating my food and exploiting my protection. They weren’t sure if they could trust me. I could see the questions in their heads.

  Is he working with her? What will they do together? Is our power and are our territories safe?

  I wasn’t bothered by their worries. If the roles were reversed, I would have the same questions.

  But the situation had changed.

  My wife was with Tatiana now. I didn’t care if I had to force every boss in this room with a gun to the head, they would help me in the fight against Tatiana and they would do it smiling.

  “The facts you have presented us are interesting, Konstantin,” Mitsuzo said. Out of all the bosses, Mitsuzo and Giovanni were the ones I had the better relationships with. Mitsuzo respected me; Giovanni was in my debt. “Tatiana…or Titus, or whatever she is called, using the underground tunnels and abandoned train stations to grow her organisation is believable.”

  I didn’t show a single emotion on my face. “But?”

  “How can we trust you?” Qiang asked. “This woman lived in your house for years and you never once suspected her.”

  I didn’t appreciate being ganged up on. Behind me, Roman shifted from foot to foot, taking offence to his tone.

  “Careful with how you address me, Qiang,” I warned. “If I recall, none of you have had much luck against Tatiana either. It seems she has outsmarted us all.”

  They shifted in their seats at the implication they had been beat. By a woman, no less.

  “Konstantin is correct,” Giovanni said, tone factual. “None of us have gotten any closer to Tatiana in the past three years. This is the only viable plan we have been offered.”

  “So we’re all gonna work together?” Thomas Sr sounded doubtful. “We’ve been at each other’s necks for years.”

  “We don’t need to hold hands and sing kumbaya, Thomas. I just need to know I will have your support when the time comes.”

  Mitsuzo looked thoughtful. “And this contact you have on the inside, they can be trusted?”

  “Yes.”

  “What information have they gathered so far?”

  “The size and strength of Tatiana’s organisation. Currently, they are trying to discover all the locations where Tatiana has a stronghold, if you will.” I jerked my chin and Artyom stepped forward. He presented documents to all the bosses. “Numbers, names, everything we currently know.”

  Their eyes scanned over the papers, eyebrows raising and furrowing. We all knew that sharing this much information was a sign of trust.

  “This is more information than we have gathered in three years,” Giovanni said. “Who is your contact?”

  “They’re my concern.”

  His blue eyes scanned my face before going back to the document.

  “What do you need from us?” Mitsuzo said. The other mob bosses looked to him in faint surprise, but none interrupted.

  I bowed my head in thanks to the Oyabun. “Your men and weapons. Tatiana has many large strongholds spread over New York. Taking down just one won’t do much damage; we need to cut off all the heads.”

  “What sort of warfare should we be expecting?” Qiang asked.

  “Bloody.”

  The bosses nodded, their cunning minds churning. I could almost hear the cogs they were all thinking so loudly.

  “She murdered women outside of New York. Have you contacted the other bosses?”

  “No. I don’t want to show the image that the New York families need help from outsiders when it comes to protecting our own territories.”

&nb
sp; They all nodded in agreement.

  “It is settled?”

  Looks were shared, lips were pursed.

  Giovanni rose to his feet and held out his hand. “You will have my support when the time comes to destroy that woman.”

  I shook his hand, cementing the deal. “I look forward to it.”

  The other three bosses also agreed, shaking hands. Weapons and law enforcement were discussed but I soothed their fears.

  “Leave law enforcement to me,” I said. “It’s an election year.”

  Chuckles filled the room.

  As I went to leave, I overheard Mitsuzo and Giovanni making plans for dinner. Everyone’s ears pricked but no one was surprised. Mitsuzo had a granddaughter, Giovanni had a son. They had much to discuss.

  Dmitri was waiting by the car downstairs, dressed head to toe in black. It made him look all the more terrifying. “He’s in there.”

  I didn’t ask who.

  I slipped into the car, adjusting my sleeves. “Agent Kavinsky, thank you for agreeing to meet me.”

  The old agent was feigning calm quite well. He was dressed in a cotton blue button-down, with khaki slacks and worn-out shoes. I felt my lip curl at the sight of his outfit–did no one ever warn him that the world decides who is powerful based on what you wear?

  If I had shown up to a meeting with the mob bosses of New York in Kavinsky’s outfit, they would’ve made a game of hunting me down and tossing me through the window.

  “I didn’t agree,” he replied, voice raspy. “Your man grabbed me off the street. I lost my bagel.”

  “I will compensate you for your breakfast,” I mused. “Methods aside, there is an urgent matter we need to discuss.”

  Kavinsky’s bushy browns pressed together. “You should’ve made an appointment with my office.”

  That made me laugh. One call to his office and I would be arrested. “An FBI Agent with a sense of humor. I never thought I would see the day.”

  He grumbled under his breath but was wise enough to ask, “What did you want to speak to me about?”

  “I have a gift for you.”