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Dangerously Driven

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by Deborah Blake




  Dangerously Driven

  Deborah Blake

  Copyright 2018 Deborah Blake. All rights reserved.

  This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Support your favorite authors. Buy or borrow, don’t pirate.

  Cover art by earthlycharms.com

  Interior design by Crystal Sarakas

  Table of Contents

  Copyright Page

  PRAISE FOR THE BOOKS OF DEBORAH BLAKE

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  OTHER FICTION BY DEBORAH BLAKE

  About the Author

  PRAISE FOR THE BOOKS OF DEBORAH BLAKE

  "Witchy and wild, this book has everything I'm looking for."

  -Tanya Huff, author of the Peacekeeper series

  "Paranormal romance at its best."

  - Alex Bledsoe, author of the Eddie LaCrosse novels

  "An addicting plot...I never had so much fun losing sleep!"

  - Maria V. Snyder, NYT bestselling author of Shadow Study

  "[Blake does] a fantastic job building layers in her world and developing interesting characters both old and new."

  - RT Book Reviews

  "An engaging world full of thoughtful, clever details, and a charmingly dangerous heroine...Tightly plotted, with great fidelity to the Baba Yaga stories from Russian folklore that inspired the book."

  - Dear Author

  "An exciting new series."

  - Tynga's Reviews

  "[A] good tale with fantastical creatures described in vivid detail, and with a lovely romance woven in... Equally engaging and enjoyable."

  - Harlequin Junkie

  "[A] fun retelling of the Baba Yaga mythology in a modern urban fantasy setting."

  - All Things Urban Fantasy

  "The kind of paranormal adventure that will keep readers up at night."

  - Fresh Fiction

  To my family, both the one I was born to and the one I created. You all make my journey worth taking.

  Acknowledgments

  As always, many people pitched in to help this book get to my wonderful readers. Huge thanks go out to Judy Levine, Karen Buys, and Skye Hughes for editing and proofreading, and to Crystal Sarakas and Sierra Newburn for formatting and general feedback assists.

  And a big thank you to my readers for still wanting more of these stories!

  Chapter 1

  The smell of damp earth filled Mikhail’s nostrils as the underground passageway narrowed even further. His flashlight’s beam flickered and dimmed. He was fairly certain his heartbeat was stuttering in a matching rhythm. Mikhail hated caves. Gods, how he hated caves.

  Damn it. Another dead end. The dying light showed him nothing but a blank wall made up of unforgiving stone and clay. He’d have to back out and try again. The sound of his labored breathing echoed in his ears. A scraped spot on one hand burned as he brushed it against the low ceiling, trying not to bump his head.

  Finally, he was back in the tunnel he’d started out in. At least the roof was a little higher there, although that did nothing to lessen the weight of the rocks above him. No choice. Had to take the other way, hope it would lead him where he needed to be. He had to go on, no matter how much he wanted nothing more than to bolt for the surface. The air. The sun.

  His flashlight gave one more unsteady flicker and died altogether, leaving him alone in the dark.

  This was really not the reunion he’d been hoping for.

  * * *

  “I’m not doing it,” Alexei said, putting his empty beer mug down on the scarred wooden bar in a way that was supposed to both indicate that the topic was closed and suggest that he was ready for a refill. Predictably, Bethany chose to ignore both.

  “Why not?” she asked in a reasonable tone as she handed a gin and tonic over to a customer and then tucked the money into the till with the ease of long practice. “These are your brothers we’re talking about, after all. And you haven’t seen them for what, two years?”

  “Almost three,” Alexei said. He blinked, a bit startled to realize it had been that long. But hell, they’d traveled together for centuries before the disaster that separated them. What were three years? “No big deal.”

  Bethany narrowed her eyes. “Maybe it wasn’t a big deal when you were all immortal,” she said in a low voice. This was clearly going to be one of those conversations that neither of them would want to explain to the patrons. Of course, at almost midnight on an early May Thursday before the start of Cape Cod’s tourist season, that meant about five people, all locals who had learned to more or less ignore the giant, bearded, leather-clad Alexei.

  “But you don’t have forever anymore. Don’t you think it’s time for the three of you to get over whatever it is that’s holding you back, and get together again? I know you miss them.”

  That much was certainly true. Back when they were the Riders, whose job it was to protect and serve the legendary Baba Yagas, they spent more time together than apart. But their torture at the hands of the mad witch Brenna had broken their bodies, their spirits, and their bonds as brothers. They had all eventually managed to mend the first two, but none of them seemed able to cross the chasm that was the third. Clearly Bella was attempting to do that for them. But Alexei didn’t know if he was ready.

  “Maybe in a few months,” he said. “Or, you know, when tourist season is over come September.”

  Bethany tapped one finger on the piece of heavy bond paper he was currently brooding over. “Bella didn’t invite you to come in September. She invited you to come next week. In writing. On fancy paper, even. With the words “please come’ written in bold and underlined. I’ve never met the woman, but from your stories, it doesn’t sound as though the Baba Yagas are prone to asking for frivolous favors. Maybe this isn’t about you and the other Riders, did you ever think about that? Maybe there is some other reason she asked you to visit.”

  Alexei scowled in her general direction. That was a great theory, but he could tell when the Baba Yagas were up to something. The invitation might have come from Bella, but it said, “Please join me, Barbara, and Beka at my home in Wyoming.” Why else would Bella want them all there if not to force a reunion between stubborn men who hadn’t been able to manage it on their own?

  “How about another beer?” he asked. He nudged the empty mug gently, in case she hadn’t noticed his current existential crisis.

  “How about you don’t try and change the subject?” responded the love of his life, but she got him another beer anyway. Which was only one of the many reasons she was the love of his life. Nonetheless, his brother Gregori thought it was amusingly suitable that after thousands of years of drinking and brawling, Alexei had ended up falling for a pint-sized Scottish barmaid (and soon-to-be lawyer) with a temper and stubborn nature that matched his own.

  “It’s going to get busy soon,” Alexei said. “You’ll need me here.”

  “I like that you think that,” Bethany said, patting him on the hand. “Considering that your idea of ‘help’ mostly involves taking up precious space on a stool and drinking up the profits. Although I confess, it is occasionally nice to have you around to carry something heavy from the back room.” She grinned at him to show she was kidding (mostly), and tossed her red hair back over her shoulders. “Besides, I’ve got my Da around if I need a hand. That new electric wheelchair makes it a lot easier for him to get around, and he can still pull a pint with the best of them.”

  They both looked across
the room where Calum McKenna was sitting with one of his old fishing buddies, looking as craggy and crabby as ever as they argued over some old dispute.

  “Uh huh,” Alexei said. “I can see how helpful he’s being. Really, I think I should stay here, instead of gallivanting all over the country.”

  “Wyoming is hardly all over the country,” Bethany said, rolling her eyes. It was a look he got often. And usually deserved. “What is it, two thousand miles from here? You used to do that at the drop of a hat when one of the Baba Yagas wanted you for something. Unless you were exaggerating when you told me all those stories.” The corner of her mouth crooked up, as if daring him to admit to stretching the truth about his previous adventures.

  He grunted at her, staring down into the depths of his beer as if its amber liquid held the answers to his questions. He might have exaggerated one or two of his feats (although not by much, since they were already pretty impressive), but he’d been accurate enough about the extent of his travels. Cape Cod to the outskirts of Douglas, Wyoming was nothing, comparatively speaking. Especially not when one was mounted on an enchanted steed-turned-Harley Davidson motorcycle that could go faster than any conventional bike and never needed gasoline.

  “It’s about that, I suppose,” Alexei said, stroking his brown beard. “I could probably be there in a couple of days. But that’s not the issue.”

  Bethany shook her head, then hopped up onto the bar, swung her legs over, and landed next to him on the other side. He’d seen her make that move a time or two when she was in a hurry to break up a bar fight, and found it inexplicably sexy. Despite his dour mood, it still made him smile. As did the kiss she planted on his lips once she’d crossed the space between them. Her soft mouth lingered for a moment on his before she pulled away.

  “What exactly is the issue, then? You know I’ll be fine, the bar will be fine, even the dogs will be fine, although I’m sure they’ll miss you terribly.” Alexei had helped her with a pregnant Great Dane she’d been fostering when they met, and then insisted on keeping two of the puppies, which were currently wrecking the house and chewing on everything. Luckily, Alexei had developed the ability to speak to animals, so he could tell them what they were doing wrong. Not that they listened.

  “Lulu will probably pine,” Alexei insisted, although it was more likely to be the reverse. “You know how she adores me.”

  “She adores the extra treats you sneak her when you think I’m not looking,” Bethany said with a fake frown. “And I adore you too, but I think I’ll survive a few days without you, as long as you promise to come back when you’re done.”

  “Of course I’ll come back,” Alexei protested. “I’d never abandon my puppies!”

  Bethany punched him in the shoulder, then shook out her hand. “Ow. I’ve got to remember not to do that.” Her expression softened. “What are you afraid of, Alexei? You’re not still convinced you let them down, just because your immense strength couldn’t save them from that crazy former Baba, are you? Because nobody else thinks that. I’m sure that when you are all together again, it will seem just like old times.”

  “That’s the thing, Beth,” Alexei said, his voice so low she had to lean in to hear him. “It won’t be the same. It will never be the same again.” His chest ached at the very thought of it, in a familiar way no amount of beer could ease.

  She sighed, putting one arm as far around him as it would reach and giving him a hug. “Oh, babe, that’s life. Things change. My father fell off a roof and broke his back and he’ll never be a fisherman again, or be able to run The Hook and Anchor without help. I had planned to stay in Boston after I finished my law degree, and now I’ll be working out of a bar in Cape Cod and slinging drinks when I’m not helping the locals with their legal problems. But my dad is doing better, thanks to your stubborn insistence, and I’ve got you, which is a gift I never expected.”

  She kissed him again, a little harder than the first time as if to be sure she had his attention, then stared into his eyes. “Things have changed for you and your brothers. I get that it is hard for you to adjust to such a large difference, after so many years of your lives remaining essentially the same even when the world shifted around you. But they’re still your brothers, and you are going to have to find some way to make your peace with the new reality. You know what would be a good start on that?”

  Alexei gave her a wry grin. Bethany might be half his size, but she still won most of the arguments. “A nice trip to visit Bella in Wyoming?”

  Bethany grinned back and took a swig of his beer. “I’ll help you pack when we get home.”

  * * *

  “No, I do not believe I will go,” Gregori said, in answer to Ciera’s question. “I think it unlikely that my brothers will attend either. It is a kind gesture on Bella’s part, but unnecessary. Mikhail, Alexei, and I will reunite when the time is right. It is clear Alexei is simply not ready yet.”

  His wife raised one dark eyebrow. “I’m not sure Alexei is the only one who isn’t ready,” she said in a dry tone. “After all, you’re not exactly going out of your way to spend time with your brothers either.”

  Gregori gently removed their black cat Magic from the counter, where she wasn’t allowed, so he could put the next stack of dishes into the soapy water of the sink. He found washing dishes to be a soothing labor, probably a habit left over from his time spent in a Buddhist monastery. At the time he had been trying to find peace and balance in an effort to get a handle on his out-of-control new healing and precognitive abilities. Thankfully, another alternative had presented itself, since he clearly was not cut out to be a monk.

  “I saw Mikhail at our wedding,” Gregori reminded Ciera. He still found it hard to believe that after more than a thousand years of endless travel, he had been fortunate enough to end up with this wonderful woman. He found it very satisfying to spend his days helping her to run the Blue Skies Center for At-Risk Youth that she had founded in memory of the mentor who saved her from a life on the streets. It was important for him to have a life of service, even if it was not the one he had been born to live.

  “At the summer solstice,” Ciera reminded him back. “That was last June and now here it is May, and you haven’t seen each other since.”

  “Well, we have been busy getting the Center up and running, not to mention my teaching classes in self-defense and meditation to the teens. There has not been much free time for travel.” Even to his own ears, it sounded as though he was making excuses. Ciera obviously agreed.

  “Mikhail is in upstate New York. That’s hardly Timbuktu,” she said. “You could easily have taken a couple of days to go see how he, Jenna, and little Flora are doing. And Bella’s house in Wyoming isn’t that far from us here in Minneapolis, either. Your shiny magical red Ducati could have you there in no time. So what’s the real problem?”

  Gregori pondered the question in silence for a moment. Ciera let him take his time; she knew him well enough to have learned that he was more inclined to intense thought than rapid responses.

  “I am...concerned,” he said, finally, placing the last dish in the stainless steel rack by the sink and sitting down at the small kitchen table.

  Ciera pulled up a chair and sat next to him, her kinky-curly black hair shining under the overhead light. “Concerned about what? Have you had some kind of premonition about the gathering?” Tiny frown lines appeared on her forehead. There had been a time when his unexpected new powers had almost killed him, although these days he had them mostly under control, thanks to intensive lessons with his mother, an ancient and powerful shamaness.

  He squeezed her hand, then held on to it, although he could not be sure if it was for her comfort or for his.

  “No, nothing like that. It is simply that the last time we were all together, it was under such terrible circumstances. We barely survived being tortured by Brenna, and she stole our immortality in a futile attempt to extend her own life and powers. At the time, our connection as brothers was all that ena
bled us to hold on, but once it was over, each of us felt we had let the others down. Mikhail and I have been able to get past that, for the most part, but it is clear that Alexei still cannot forgive himself. Or perhaps, us.”

  “Is that what you’re afraid of?” Ciera asked. “That he will blame you? Because as far as I can tell, that’s never been the issue. You said when he called you last March he was blaming himself for not being strong enough to stop one small, ancient witch.” Her full lips curved up slightly. “You know, kind of like you blamed yourself for not being able to outsmart her.”

  Gregori found himself smiling back at her; she often had that effect on him. “You make it sound so foolish when you put it like that.”

  “Go figure,” Ciera said dryly. “Maybe you should just go and see who else shows up. After all, Bella did ask you to come, and it seems to me that even if you aren’t a Rider anymore, you owe her the courtesy of a visit when she requests one. Maybe this has something to do with what happened to her adopted daughter Jazz. They’ve both been off in the Otherworld for most of the last year, since that spell went really wrong. Maybe they need your support.”

  Gregori was ashamed he had been so focused on his own issues, he had not even considered that possibility. “It is not my place to support the Baba Yagas any longer,” he pointed out, but with less conviction than his initial statement.

  Ciera gazed at him steadily. “Circumstances beyond your control took away your ability to be a Rider,” she said. “Nobody said you couldn’t be a friend.”

  Or a brother. Gregori had the sneaking feeling that he had just lost an argument he had not been aware he was having.

  “I am a fortunate man, to have such a wise wife,” he said, leaning over and kissing her.

  “Yes you are,” she said with a smirk as she tugged on his long black hair. “And if you follow me to the bedroom, I’ll show you just how lucky you are.”

  * * *

  “I don’t think either of them is likely to come,” Mikhail said to his wife Jenna. He juggled Flora on his knee, feeling his heart lighten at the sound of her high-pitched giggle. Her dark locks hung in wild curls that bounced on her shoulders as he made silly horsy sounds, her tiny hand gripping his own shoulder-length blond hair with a hold of iron.

 

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