Vampires of Moscow (Blood Web Chronicles Book 1)

by Caedis Knight

  “I can’t cope with that volume or that time frame,” he complains, each word shrill and petulant. I can see why Lukka hates him. “Can’t we outsource to the Swiss?”

  “The Swiss are planning to charge us triple. We have no choice, we will need to expand these facilities.” He waves his hand around the office as if that’s where the expansion will go. “We can use the rest of the parking lot, create a better line-up. Konstantin is having ten more buses full of workers commuted in from various sites. They’ve all been fed over the last six months and are ready for extraction.”

  Workers? Extraction? What the fuck? Has Konstantin been steroiding up his KLV workers and then extracting their blood to make drugs with? It makes no sense. Konstantin hasn’t been acting that different lately. Not that I would know, I’ve not seen him since the Bolshoi. Although now I come to think of it, Konstantin has made it really easy for his brother and I to be together without demanding anything from either of us. That’s not like him at all. What’s the evil bastard been doing while Lukka has been in my room the last three days?

  Dr. Vassily sighs wearily. “It will be hard to expand the laboratory down here. Lukka will not be happy to give up his beloved parking lot.”

  “Konstantin can handle his mad brother. He never involves him anyway.”

  I let out a silent sigh of relief. At least there’s that.

  “But why can’t we have more time?” the doctor asks again.

  “We have to shift the product quickly, or we risk another leak. Or another coup.”

  Dr. Vassily adds sugar cubes to his tea. “I thought Konstantin took care of the leak. That Kazakh boy from the site.”

  Ansel’s boyfriend, Maxim, was the leak?!

  “It’s not just the boy. Turns out his girl, the bunny bitch, supplied information to The Blood Web Chronicle a few weeks ago. Konstantin’s hacker found the correspondence on her Blood Web account. He thought it was the boy at first, but he was just nosey. It was his girl who did the snitching.”

  My phone starts vibrating again. It’s Ansel, asking me where I am. I resist the urge to cry. How am I going to tell her the man she loved died because of her whistle-blowing?

  “I never liked that rabbit Shifter anyway. She’s not even hot,” says Dr. Vassily.

  I blink away the ping of his lie. Creep.

  Rada drains his tea down to the bergamot dregs. “Pack up the latest samples. We’re going to see Konstantin.”

  “Go to Konstantin? But it’s sunlight hours!” Dr. Vassily exclaims.

  Rada grabs him by the cuff and Dr. Vassily’s fangs protrude defensively, but it's a pathetic sight. His canines are half Rada’s size.

  “Take a sun pill and shut the fuck up.”

  With this, he drags the doctor out of the security office and I’m left in silence.

  Pop a pill? A pill that will help Dr. Vassily go to see Konstantin in broad daylight? If the sun pill formula isn't perfect when we ship there could be Vampire casualties, Dr. Vassily’s earlier phrase plays through my mind.

  The doctor is concerned about shipping out a faulty product before it’s perfected, a product Konstantin is working on that helps Vamps withstand the sun. More pieces of the puzzle collide in my brain as one horrible realization comes after the next. Konstantin has been creating some kind of chemical in his underground lab, spiking the construction workers’ food with it to make their blood better, then draining his victims like prize-winning friesians.

  That’s my story. I have it. Fuck!

  Another thought slithers into my brain and it fills me with dread. Konstantin has found out that Ansel was the whistle-blower who contacted The Chronicle. He won’t let her get away with that. I have to warn her!

  And if Konstantin has been hacking Blood Web accounts he might have even found out that I work for The Chronicle. I might be in danger too!

  FUCK!

  I hurry forward, then freeze as I hear a noise. Someone is coming back, and judging by the heavy footsteps it’s Rada. Maybe he’s forgotten something - perhaps the product samples. Quickly I reach for the nearest door, fling myself inside and close it.

  It’s pitch-black in here. I hold my breath - both from fear and the putrid stench in whatever room I’m hiding in, and I wait. And wait. Will Rada’s Vampire hearing be good enough to pick up the thunder of my heartbeat behind the door? There’s the sound of him rifling through paperwork and banging drawers, searching for something, and then, finally, he leaves. Footsteps recede and the door shuts with a click. I finally breathe out.

  Relieved, I slump against the wall and close my eyes. My heart is thundering and I attempt to steady myself, palms flat against the wall behind me. I need to calm down before I call Ansel. I take a deep breath of the thick tangy air, stifling a cough from the stench, but as I straighten up my hands come away wet and sticky. What the hell? My chest tightens with panic again as I pat the walls, tracing my way back to the door frame until I find a light switch and flick it on. I blink, look at my hands, then blink again. They are bright red and glistening.

  Oh no. I turn around, slowly, and survey the room.

  Everything is white. White walls, white benches and a white tiled floor. It reminds me of the Blood Bunny room. I squint at the bright strip lighting and blink a few more times, trying to customize myself to the glare. So much white, the perfect canvas for the crimson splashes of blood dripping down the walls. Blood. Blood everywhere. I clamp my hand over my mouth to stifle a squeak of a scream trying to escape, my lips now covered in the cold blood from my palms.

  Something is dripping. Drip. Drip. Like the slow tick of a clock. I step forward and nearly slip on a black puddle at my feet. What the hell is going on? I look up, and finally find the source of the blood. Two bodies. Boris and his Bolshoi theatre date are hanging above me by hooks embedded at the back of their heads, swaying limply like mutilated scarecrows.

  Now I know where Konstantin has been the past three days.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  I cover my mouth as I dry heave in the back of yet another Uber as it whizzes through the grey streets. I washed my hands and face using kettle water, before getting the fuck out of there as fast as I could, but I can still see blood beneath my nails.

  I can’t believe the whole time Lukka and I were wrapped up in tangled sheets, Konstantin was torturing work associates and their loved ones. Boris, the same man whose lies I alerted Konstantin to at the theatre. I let out another whimper. Oh my god, this is all my fault! First the men in the restaurant and now Boris and his innocent girlfriend - all because of my lie detecting.

  Not only is Konstantin a megalomaniac trying to make super blood pills that help Vamps go out in the sun, but he’s the worst monster I’ve ever known.

  And Ansel is about to be his next victim.

  The acrid smell of death still lingers in my nostrils, my stomach spasming in shock. I put down my phone and vomit in the footwell of the Uber. The driver screams at me, but I don’t care. Every time I blink all I see is haunting flashes of the white room, signs of the struggle Boris and his girl must have put up, and their slow torture. They were both still dressed in their ballet finery. Konstantin must have gone back for them right after he showed me his childhood home. I gag again at the thought that I let the bastard touch me with the very same hands he used hours afterward to do that.

  As soon as I got in the Uber I texted Ansel to find somewhere safe and wait for me. A few minutes later she sent me the location of where to meet her. I don’t trust my phone isn’t hacked, or hers, so I can’t text her everything I’ve discovered. I need to explain it all face to face.

  I’ve also let Jackson know, via my other phone, that I need immediate removal. The Chronicle has procedures in place for that. He didn’t even waste time asking me the details, he just told me to get back immediately.

  My hands are shaking as I look in my purse and double-check I have everything. My fake passport, my paperwork, and money. I don’t care about my clothes. Then my heart
sinks. What about Lukka? I want to call him, but I have to get to Ansel first.

  The address Ansel gave me leads me to a courtyard between a large group of soviet blocks. I look around but can’t see her. I’m about to keep walking when a shadow moves in a nearby arch. I flinch, but it’s her. Thank god!

  She’s wearing a heavy teddy bear-looking coat, her arms wrapped tightly around herself. The pink bobble on her hat nods back and forth as she runs over to me.

  Melting snow sloshes beneath my feet as I cross the distance between us. “Did anyone follow you?” I ask, my breath forming foggy clouds between us.

  Ansel’s honey eyes dart behind me, her gaze crawling up the building, before wrapping her arms around me tightly.

  “No, why?” she says. She’s shaking, and I hold her closer. “Why would I be followed?”

  “Konstantin knows you’re the one who leaked KLV info to The Blood Web Chronicle.”

  She stiffens in my arms and withdraws.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she stutters.

  Ping.

  “Don’t worry,” I say, rubbing her arm. “I’m an undercover reporter for The Chronicle. I’m the one they sent to investigate this. We have to get away now, you’re in danger.”

  Ansel doesn’t look convinced, but then she doesn’t have many options either.

  “I got suspicious a few weeks ago,” she cries, as I lead her away from the glare of the streetlamp to a dark corner. “That’s why I voiced my concerns - but now I know I was right about these murders not being accidental. Maxim called me last week, before our argument, and told me he’d been to see the site doctor because he was feeling unwell. They told him he was fine...then he was killed. I went to collect Maxim’s things from his bunk a couple of days ago and I found something in his clothes. Look.” She holds out a piece of crumpled paper with numbers printed all over it. It looks similar to the test results I saw on Konstantin’s laptop. “I guess he went to get a second opinion, but they don’t make sense. These bloodwork results are strange, it says he was taking something similar to steroids. My boyfriend would never have taken steroids, Saskia. Never.”

  I steady her with my arms, forcing her to focus on me.

  “Ansel, you need to get out of here. Do you have anyone that can hide you? Anyone that you trust?”

  “She has me,” a gruff voice announces from over my shoulder.

  I know that voice, and it covers every inch of my body in goosebumps. I turn slowly to find Dimitri standing in the archway behind me. I’ve not heard him speak much beyond the word ‘no’. The club bouncer is wearing a light blue Adidas tracksuit, a different variation of his usual attire, the top zipped up tight over his barrel chest. It’s bitterly cold but he’s not wearing a coat, as if he’s too tough to be scared by something as trivial as a Russian winter. His gold chains shine in the moonlight, but his face is partly in shadow thanks to the black bucket hat he’s wearing like a bad Baltic imitation of a 90s Liam Gallagher.

  My body pivots and I shield Ansel with it.

  “What are you doing here?” I shout.

  “I called him,” Ansel says, sidestepping me and standing by his side. “Dimitri is going to help me leave the city.”

  She looks up at him, her gaze warm and trusting. He returns it and my heart releases some of the tension it’s been holding. Dimitri may never have liked me, but I’ve seen the way he looks at Ansel. He adores her. Plus, he’s strong, he can protect her. But does he care enough to turn against his boss? Right now, he’s all we’ve got.

  “Take her far from here,” I say. As if I could tell this giant bear what to do.

  Dimitri nods. “You need a ride to the airport?”

  “No,” I reply. “I’m heading back to the club. There’s something I need to do first.”

  I’ve decided I do need to talk to Lukka. I need to tell him what I’ve discovered about Rada and Boris, about the laced food and that his brother is behind it all.

  “We’ll drop you off,” says Dimitri, and I nod.

  The three of us make our way through the arches and courtyard to where I’m assuming Dimitri’s car is parked. My phone buzzes and I glance at it. Jackson has texted me. He sounds more concerned than usual and confirms he’s already booked me a ticket for tonight. If I didn’t know any better I would think he was worried about me.

  I text him back quickly as Ansel’s footsteps pitter-patter beside me, accompanied by Dimitri’s heavier tread. The Tetris motion continues in my head, pieces of information falling and fitting and not fitting at all. Then it hits me.

  Dimitri doesn’t know I’m a journalist – so why did he offer to take me to the airport? Why is he assuming I would run as well, just because Ansel told him she’s in trouble? Unless Konstantin told him who and what I really am!

  “How did you know I would be leaving the country?” I ask him.

  “You just mentioned it.”

  I didn’t. The ping of his lie is like a bucket of cold water on my frozen skin.

  His smile is small and sharp, but through the shade of his hat I can still see his eyes growing smaller and narrowing - the predatory eyes of a bear.

  My head flickers from side to side, calculating the best direction in which we could run, when suddenly a set of thick ivory claws morph from the bouncer’s skin. I brace myself for impact, to feel the slice of them gauge through my abdomen, but instead his paws close around Ansel.

  “No” I scream as she lets out a sound that is neither a yelp nor a whimper, her eyes wide with fright. I go to move, to shout, to reach out - but I’m too late. In one swift motion, Dimitri slices Ansel’s neck open with a single claw and she falls with a faint thump to the slush beneath our feet. And all I can think is ‘death should make a larger sound than that’.

  At my feet lies a limp black rabbit, her fur moving in the bitter wind and flakes of snow clinging to her soft down. Like all dead Shifters, Ansel has morphed back.

  “First the rabbit, then the rat,” Dimitri growls.

  My scream is drowned out by the bear’s roar as he makes a lunge for me. I duck, a shadow looms in my peripheral, then everything goes black.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  As I come to the first thing I’m aware of is the gentle hum of Moonlight Sonata. The classical song slithers through the darkness towards me, ebbing in and out of focus.

  The second thing I notice is that I’m swinging, my body moving from side to side to the sweet gentle music. Am I dancing? I feel like I’ve taken one of Lukka’s pills again, but I know I haven’t, because the last thing I remember was a bear and a thump and…

  Then it hits me. The third and strongest sensation. Pain. Intense and all-consuming pain crashing over me. My eyes snap open. The excruciating sensation has turned my world upside down.

  I blink three times and slowly my eyes adjust to the dark space I’m in.

  I am upside down. I stare at the floor as it rises and falls, rises and falls, trying to move my hands but failing. They are tied behind my back and my ankles are bound above my head. I recognize the room I’m in – it’s the holding cells in the Black Rabbit’s parking lot.

  “Dobroye utro.” Konstantin’s lacy voice matches the melodic rise and fall of the piano.

  “I wouldn’t call this a good morning,” I spit, mustering whatever bravado I can manage considering I’m swinging upside down.

  Konstantin steps into my line of vision, his face contorted in mild surprise at my response. What? Did he think I was going to give him the whole ‘Oh my god, I can’t believe you’re the villain!’ speech? I’m not. I wouldn’t be hanging upside down if he wasn’t. Ansel wouldn’t be dead if he wasn’t.

  I swallow and ask the most important question.

  “How does Lukka fit into all of this?”

  Konstantin waves his hand as if he were swatting away a fly. “Lukka isn’t involved in my other business.”

  “Which is?”

  He reaches out and runs a finger along my cheek. He
looks so sure of himself.

  “I thought you would have figured it out, little Miss Reporter.”

  If he knows I’m a reporter, then why am I not dead? As if in answer to my question Konstantin goes to the door of the cage and calls out the name of Dr. Vassily.

  The sniveling doctor doesn’t spare me a glance. He’s clearly used to watching people suffer in the Black Rabbit basement. He busies himself by a small table, which wasn’t in the cage when I was in here this evening. What the fuck is he doing?

  “Untie me, Konstantin. We can talk,” I say, my breaths growing heavy, my headache near unbearable.

  Konstantin ignores me as he watches the doctor layout a series of syringes. At the sight of their exchange, my entire body seizes up, causing the pain to double.

  “You already know I own a pharmaceutical company,” Konstantin examines one of the syringes. “I hear you enjoyed testing my creations.”

  How does he know about my night with Lukka? Does he know we slept together?

  “You’re a glorified drug dealer,” I spit.

  “It started with recreational drugs, but as you know, sweetheart, we have moved far beyond that now.”

  “Like your super-blood sun pills?”

  “Sun pills, yes. A few years ago, I started trading in modified blood. Organic, clean, enhanced blood sourced from the strongest of subjects...”

  “You’re not describing free-range chicken,” I interrupt him.

  “Am I not?” Konstantin mimics a look of surprise, eyebrows arched, then smiles. “As you know I also deal in enhanced Shifter blood. Experimenting with various blood blends led me to the sun pills.”

  “You drug your workers with enhancement drugs through the food you provide, then drain them to death and put the blood in pills to sell on the Blood Web?”

  Konstantin nods, looking a little impressed with my investigative skills. “Our super blood operation was flawless for years. Undocumented workers come and go and no one could trace their mass disappearances to us. We hid the bodies well.” I try desperately to get out of the restraints smarting my bloody wrists, while Konstantin busies himself with the syringe. It’s impossible. These brothers sure know how to tie a girl up.