by Kenya Wright
Two
Kazimir
Uncle Igor was on edge due to the news of my death. The fighters that flanked Valentina’s plane told me that.
Luka had confirmed the rest with his disruption of my kiss with Emily.
Apparently, one of my uncle’s pilots contacted ours. He wanted to know who was on the plane and why had they come. Uncle Igor was with me when we bought it, so he knew it was Valentina’s, but he wasn’t sure of who was inside this time. Therefore, he suspected foul play.
Our pilot only explained that Valentina and her crew were on it. My death needed to remain hidden until I revealed myself as being alive. For now, I was intrigued to see how things had been in my world for the past seven hours. Who remained loyal?
Meanwhile, these moments with Emily represented the best in my life. I almost didn’t get off the plane and instructed the pilot to have us fly some more. What would it have hurt to spend a week in the air with Emily, her slick curvy body sliding against mine above the clouds?
Once we hit the ground, the lightness of what Emily and I had shared left us.
Already, there was space between us. I was in the front. She remained in the back with her men.
The door opened. Together, Valentina and I stepped off the plane. Oleg flanked her right. The rest of our men guarded us in a circle as we headed to the limo. Anyone looking from afar probably had no idea who our men were protecting.
My feet touched the earth and pressure weighed down on my shoulders. A cold chill blew by. Fall in Prague was chilly. There hadn’t been much leftover summer warmth this September.
Still a winter cold hit my bones, stronger than any wind could be, a sensation I hadn’t experienced since my prison days. And I couldn’t point to why. Someone trying to kill me wasn’t a new thing, no matter how close the person had been to me. An oncoming war for the Bratva wasn’t new either. Conflict came and went like the seasons of a year—one killed through the winter and counted the money during the summer.
Why am I worried now? Is it because it could be more than Sasha going against me?
Four armored tanks sat outside of the airport’s runway, pointing our way. That gave me an unsettling feeling, but it hadn’t twisted the knots forming in my stomach.
Will this end with Sasha and Daryl or are there more people working against me?
Two stretch limos were in the opposite direction. I was sure my uncle had arranged them. Each one would have plenty of space for ten people along with televisions and a full bar. Which was good because I needed a drink. I was on edge—more than usual.
I’ll have to anticipate everyone close to me and wonder if they’re an enemy.
Noticing the tanks, Oleg pursed his lips, got closer to my sister, and pulled his gun out.
I shook my head at Oleg. “Put your gun away. No one’s harming Valentina.”
Oleg nodded and did as I ordered.
Could Oleg be a part of this? Hmmm. But, he’s been Valentina’s pet, the first moment he spotted her.
Today, the man wore a black suit and bright pink buttoned shirt that was opened at the top, revealing the tattooed dagger through his neck. No doubt Valentina had dressed him.
Long ago, I’d met him in jail due to that tattoo. I remembered that at the center of his chest was the Virgin Mary holding a baby Jesus. A church framed the pair. A holy cross made of knives served as the background.
Unfortunately, in my world, symbols of churches and crosses didn’t represent his belief in God. They identified the type of criminal he was. The Virgin Mary and Jesus showed his devotion to thievery and further conviction for murdering anyone that got in his way. Even the bordering churches’ domes represented how many sentences he’d served.
That dagger through his neck said that he was a killer-for-hire. Every blood drop at the dagger’s tip represented a victim. Oleg had many drops tattooed on his skin.
When Luka and I broke out of jail, I’d hired Oleg to kill the two main prison guards to serve as a distraction.
Oleg delivered. Luka and I were free because of it. A month after my escape, I hired men to break Oleg and others out of the same jail. Those twenty freed men had been my most loyal, rising in power with me and drowning in power and money. Some of them walked toward the limo on this day. Some stayed with Valentina and me. Others guarded Emily and her crew.
No. None of these men could go against me. Not even Oleg. Granted, when I introduced him to Valentina, his loyalty shot to her. But that can never be helped when Valentina is involved.
Oleg stayed at my sister’s pace and scanned the space with his eyes.
“Armored tanks? What is this?” Valentina hissed at my side. “Must Uncle be so paranoid?”
“Relax.” Cold wind brushed through my hair. “To him, I’m dead.”
“Sure, but does he think I have something to do with it?” She gestured to the units. “Tanks? This isn’t a good welcome for me. Remember, I’m supposed to be a woman that’s mourning her brother’s death.”
“If a person was going to move against me and win, it would be someone close.”
“Not me.”
“Of course, not you, but our uncle is thinking better safe than sorry.” Unease rose inside of me.
If Valentina worked with Sasha, it would be the greatest deception ever.
We stopped at the limo. Oleg opened the dor.
And he would do anything for her.
I stared at the man, looking through him and down to his soul.
Oleg turned his gaze down, but not from fear. It was respect, like a dog submitting after his owner spotted his piss on the floor.
If Oleg worked with Sasha, then it would be Valentina telling him to.
Sirens blared off in the distance. The battering of helicopters sounded next.
The police would be here soon. I was sure my uncle told them what was going on, but they had to make a show to the citizens. Surely many people in the area were in horror about tanks on an airport. Some airport employees stood aghast, frozen, and scared to move. Others who were probably used to my kind kept their faces low and rushed to do their tasks.
The sirens came closer, blaring from gray vehicles with blue stripes on the sides. The Police of the Czech Republic. Others knew them as my uncle’s little friends. We were to be nice and never kill them. Uncle Igor loved Prague more than his own life.
I’m missing something.
I turned to my sister.
She widened those blue eyes. “What’s wrong, Kazimir?”
Since her pregnancy, our relationship had become odd. Where once she was always around, sticking her nose into every aspect of my life, she’d flown out to Canada on her own. Uncle Igor thought it was from embarrassment from being pregnant. And even to this day, she had not told me the name of her daughter’s father.
I often wondered if she’d thought I would kill the guy.
Why would I harm my niece’s father? He would have to be a bad man for me to kill him.
“Kazimir?” Valentina placed her hand on my arm. “You look exhausted. Did you sleep at all on the plane?”
“No.”
She grinned. “Good. I’m sure you had fun. You should be celebrating, but you’re…”
Several police cars sped onto the airport’s runway.
“You’re…off right now.” Valentina frowned at the uniformed vehicles speeding onto the airport’s runway. She shook her head and continued, “When we left New York, you seemed confident. I was worried and then I relaxed. What’s going on now? What changed?”
She’s right. What changed?
Those last hours flashed through my head. Every memory evoked the scent and taste of Emily. She lived inside of me now. We’d surely spent enough time trying to climb into the other’s body, never disconnecting, exchanging pleasure as well as energy.
And when she came, she didn’t hold back. She cried out in pleasure. And her orgasms always lured me off the edge. That flight had been amazing. Emily had been better than any wom
an I’d ever been with.
What’s changed? Me.
There was something about that long time of peace and passion above the earth that made me rethink how I’d been spending my days. How many hours had I wasted brooding and torturing, ruling and battling? How many nights had I made love to women where I didn’t know their name by the morning? How much have I wasted in the past? And how much did I gain in this time with Emily?
“Brother?”
“Things are different.” I checked behind my shoulder.
Emily had just exited the plane with her crew. Luka walked on her left, Maxwell on her right. X marched in front of them with that cane pumping in the air and resembling a bandleader in a parade. Apparently, the tanks and fighter jets had not scared him at all.
Valentina tapped my arm. “What’s different, Kazimir?”
I’ve got more to lose. My peace. I’ve found I like it. And Emily…I’ve found I like her too.
“Okay. Say something. You’re scaring me.” A nervous laugh left Valentina. “You’re just as on edge as Uncle Igor. You’re alive. We should be celebrating.”
“There’s still a lot that can happen from here until Moscow.” I watched Emily make it over to me. I was going to have her ride in the second limo, but now I needed her to ride in mine. I had to keep her close, especially if others around me could be hidden enemies. She would catch what I didn’t.
That’s why I’m on edge. My mouse is not with me.
Valentina eyed the direction and smirked at Emily. “Did you have your fill of the Harlem Crew this flight?”
“If you’re asking about Emily, then no I haven’t had my fill.”
Valentina grinned. “Good. I like her for you.”
“I’m glad you do.”
“Just keep being my Kazimir, but you’re being weird right now.” She blinked. “Maybe you should just have her go to Moscow and wait for—”
“Nyet.”
“Awww. There goes my Kazimir.” She climbed into the limo.
The distance between Emily began to close. Watching me the whole time, she headed to the second limo. I shook my head and gestured at my limo. She passed the second one and headed my way. Her men followed.
Why can we speak without words, so easily? Was it the sex that made us so in tune? No. It wasn’t the sex. It’s been that way from the beginning.
Black leather covered her whole body. Fitted pants hugged those lush hips and fat ass. A black leather jacket stopped high on her waist. A hood surrounded her face and was trimmed in white fur. Sunglasses shielded her eyes.
That outfit was why she’d been naked on the plane for several hours. Even now, I was thinking of taking her clothes off in the limo and having the others ride in the second one.
Two black helicopters landed between the tanks and us. There were no symbols on the side announcing what government or organization they were assigned to, not that it mattered anymore. Emily was close, and we were leaving.
The heels of her boots clicked toward me. She stopped two feet away just like any of my men would. But I yearned for her to be closer. Electricity arced between us, the instinctive recognition that we had been made to fit together perfectly.
My face reflected in her dark glasses.
But, I wanted to see what was in her eyes. “You all will ride with us.”
She nodded.
Maxwell and Xavier climbed in.
Valentina shrieked with joy. “Oh, the Harlem Crew is riding with us?!”
Emily smiled as she passed me.
“Nyet. You sit next to me.” I stopped her. “Also, you should sit next to the window. You’ve never been to Prague.”
Emily’s face lit up, but she shifted her expression back to neutral.
I stopped Luka. “Ride in the next one. It’ll be too tight.”
“Good.” Luka hated being around Oleg anyway, thinking that the man had gotten too high of a position and power, just from being my little sister’s babysitter. Oleg felt the same about Luka. He nicknamed Luka, ten'. It meant shadow in Russian and referred to Luka being in my shadow. It was always good to keep them separated.
Once Emily and I got in, our driver sped off.
The police didn’t follow. They remained on the runway, doing a big show of looking like they’d scared us off. The tanks went off in the other direction. However, the helicopter rose and followed us in the air.
Valentina leaned out of her side of the window. “Is that Uncle’s?”
“No.”
She frowned. “Putin?”
Maxwell muttered to Emily, “Did she just say Putin? She didn’t say that, right?”
Xavier eyed the bar. “May I partake in the succulent liquid displayed in front of us?”
Emily rolled her eyes. “We’re on a job, X.”
“Oh. How cute. They’re on a job.” Excitement hit Valentina’s voice. “I want to make some drinks. Have you had Beton?”
“Never heard of it.” X rubbed his fingers over the star constellations inked all over his bald head. “What’s in it?”
“Becherovka and tonic,” Valentina said.
“Becherovka?” Emily asked.
Valentina and Xavier ignored Emily’s question as they scooted over to the bar and began making drinks. We zoomed beyond the airport. Cars and buildings sped past us. After a while, the limo entered Prague’s Old Town Square.
I whispered to her, “Becherovka is a liquor made out of herbs and spices.”
“Oh. Do you like that drink?”
“Nyet.”
Emily smiled at the word. I was sure she had several Russian words memorized.
“Why don’t you like it?” she asked.
“Beton means concrete in Czech.” I frowned. “That should say it all.”
Valentina overheard me and snorted. “Kazimir doesn’t like to drink anything at all because he sings when he’s drunk.”
The whole limo turned to me, even Oleg, as if waiting for me to confirm it. A smile hit Emily’s eyes, but she didn’t let it change her neutral expression. Everyone was smart enough to keep their mouths closed.
I was sure my expression told them they wouldn’t get an answer. Seconds later, they turned away.
“Done.” Valentina handed a drink to Xavier. He took it. Emily frowned the whole time but said nothing.
“Do you want a drink, Maxwell?” Valentina asked.
He turned to Emily, then to Valentina, and shook his head.
My sister found it amusing. “No for you too, Emily?”
“Correct, but thanks.”
“You saved my brother.” Valentina shrugged. “The least I can do is make you a drink and trust me when I say this, I usually don’t make drinks for anyone.”
“I can’t tell.” Xavier gulped some more of it. He was already half a glass down. “You’re a true mixologist. You missed your calling as a bartender.”
I moved my focus back to Emily. She’d put all her attention outside the window. Excitement bounced in her eyes. This was my fiftieth time coming to Prague. What did Emily see when she looked at this city that had become my second home?
The artist part of her must be buzzing.
The Czech Republic was buried in the center of Europe. Prague served as the capitol and one of the only European cities to not be destroyed by war. Therefore, when one came here, they peered into a vision of the past.
Prague was not just a marvel of architecture and culture, it was a city of many things. The City of a Hundred Spires. The City of Old Bohemia. The Mother of All Cities.
Gothic Tyn church soared over everything. The Vtalva river flowed on our right. The limo slowed as we passed the Charles Bridge. Even though it was early in the morning, tons of tourists crossed the bridge, taking pictures of the ornate statues lining the causeway of Jesus and other saints. Commerce was tourism in this city. Everything was done at the satisfaction of visitors.
Emily leaned closer to the window, squinting her eyes.
I checked what she was lookin
g at. “That’s the astronomical clock.”
“It looks amazing.”
I glanced at my watch. “Oleg, tell the driver to go over to the Orloj. Emily has to see this.”
Oleg had been monitoring Xavier and Valentina laughing and making more drinks, but he nodded, called the driver up, and let me know that it was done. The limo turned right, instead of taking the long cobblestoned path toward my uncle’s castle.
Once we hit his doors, I would need to be alert. There’d be less time to fuck Emily. We’d have to get back into the game of stopping our brothers and searching out enemies.
Emily’s smile widened. “We’re going over there?”
“Yes. We have time,” I lied.
Maybe that was the other reason I wanted to show her the clock. I wished we had more time—to fuck, to laugh, to open her head and see what ticked inside. She’d gotten my full attention much like a new toy for a kid, but she was no toy and I was no child.
This fascination was something more.
Dangerous.
The driver stopped at the clock, rushed to get out, and opened the door for her. We stepped out—just Emily and me. No one else cared. I swore Maxwell scooted over to get a quick drink from Xavier. Surely his nerves needed to be wet by a little alcohol.
People crowded around and stared at the massive clock. I took Emily’s hand. Our fingers linked together. The sensation made me think of the first time I kissed her.
“It’s called the Orloj,” I said. “It’s a medieval astronomical clock.”
“How old is it?”
“It was made around 1410, if I remember correctly.”
Her mouth opened in shock as she studied all the details from afar.
The clock had three main components that kept everyone in amazement. The first was the astronomical dial, representing the position of the Sun and Moon. There were other details on the dials—the phases of the moon, the current placement of the sun in zodiac signs, as well as hand-crafted nodules that identified the day of a special saint. Then there were statues of various Catholic saints that stood on each side of the clock. The third part component was happening in the moment we walked up.
