Page 3 of Born into Darkness

Yulia, Aleks’s younger sister quickly says, “None of you better answer that because I don’t want to know.” When she laughs, the dimple in her cheek comes out, the same exact one that her brother and dad have.

“Neither do I,” Sitka says, walking over with a book in her hand. She plops down, resting against a log before opening the book in her lap. At sixteen, she’s the baby of the family, and Allie, Yulia, and I were thrilled when she came along. We’re still outnumbered, but she at least levels the playing field a little bit.

Dima looks over at Allie and says, “And here I was trying to convince everyone that it would be okay for us to take you to Inferno tomorrow night.” Before she can say anything, he throws another log on the fire, daring Allie to make a small dick joke.

Allie gives him a sweet smile. “What I meant to say is that clearly this is a replica and not meant to be compensation of any kind.”

“You’re about to make me dry heave,” Sitka tells her, not bothering to look up from her book. The guys laugh while Dima looks around for our brother. When he spots him, he signs,Get your ass over here.

Bran likes to stay on the outskirts, but we never let him. Everyone in the family has learned sign language over the years, so it’s never been an issue to communicate. Our dads all speak Russian, and we all speak that as well. Often we transition between the three languages, and I’m guessing an outsider looking in would think it was confusing, but it’s just normal for us. Our parents learned sign language as adults, which had to have been harder, but we learned it as kids, so it felt a lot more effortless to us.

They’re too young to go to Inferno, Bran signs to our older brother.

Allie’s fingers work fast as she signs right back,No, we aren’t. Well, Yulia and Sitka are, but Talia and I are old enough to drink.

Bran looks over at me, and I see the worry written all over his face.It’s not safe, he signs again.

Misha laughs and motions towards our dads before he says, “They’ll never agree to it anyway.” He signs the words as he speaks, just like we all do whenever Bran is around.

My Uncle Volodya looks over at his son, sensing he’s being talked about. He walks over with my dad and Uncle Valeri while my mom helps my aunts with all the food.

“What the hell are you all up to?” My Uncle Volodya gets right to the point, surprising no one. Where my Uncle Valeri is all dimpled smiles and laughs, my Uncle Volodya is much harder to read. If I didn’t know him as well as I do, I’d think he was intimidating and not someone I’d ever go to for help. Since I know what a big sweetheart he is, I walk over to him and give him a big hug.

“Hey, Talia,” he says, kissing the top of my head. “What are my sons planning?”

“They’re trying to bust me and Allie out of jail and take us to Inferno,” I say, ignoring the pained groan Allie gives at me spilling the plan that we both know was never going to happen anyway.

My dad laughs, proving my point, and says, “So you girls were just going to hop on the backs of their bikes and then spend a night of drinking and dancing at the busiest nightclub in the city?”

“We do own the club, Dad,” Dima says, trying to help us out.

“We do,” my dad agrees, “which means I know firsthand what a security nightmare it would be.”

“Sorry, kiddo,” my Uncle Volodya says. “We love you girls too much to let you put yourselves in danger.”

“Not to mention that two of you aren’t even old enough to get in the club,” my Uncle Valeri says while smiling at his daughter and niece before giving me a big hello hug.

Sitka lifts her grey eyes to look at him. “I think you know me better than that, Uncle Valeri.”

He smiles at her. “I do,” and then turns his gaze to his daughter.

Yulia laughs and holds up her hand. “I swear I wasn’t going to go, Dad.”

“Of course you weren’t, sweetheart. You’re a rule follower like I always was,” my Uncle Valeri says, making my Uncle Volodya nearly choke on his drink while my dad laughs and looks at his youngest brother like he’s lost his mind.

My mom and aunts walk over, and as soon as their wives are close enough, they're all three pulling them closer. They’ve always been sympathetic to our lack of freedom, so I’m not surprised when my mom says, “How about we take you girls to lunch tomorrow? We’ll go to your favorite restaurant, drink way too many margaritas. Virgin ones for Yulia and Sitka, of course,” she says before their dads can say anything.

Yuri gives a soft laugh when Allie mutters, “Might as well make all three of us drink those.” She angled her body so she could sign it without our parents seeing, and when I look over, Bran’s fighting a grin.

“Is my daughter causing trouble?”

We all look over when Andrei and Svetlana walk over to join us. I think of them more as another aunt and uncle, just like I do Ilya and Nikolai and their wives. Our families have always been close, and as soon as they’re near the fire, I give them each a hug.

Andrei kisses the top of my head. “How are you doing, honey? We saw Wallace on our way down. I swear that dog gets faster every time I see him.”

I smile and look down the beach. Ilya and his wife are headed our way. Lily used to be our live-in tutor. She taught Dima, Bran, and me sign language, and we all love her immensely. She’s one of the sweetest people I’ve ever met, and Ilya fell hard for her. It took him forever to convince her to date him, and then even longer to convince my dad of it. It’s obvious the two are in love, though, and when my dad finally agreed, Ilya wasted no time. They’ve been married ever since. I smile and wave at them as their son, Tyoma, runs over and throws the ball for Wallace. He’s only seventeen and the youngest of the guys, but Kostya, Nikolai’s son, is right behind him at eighteen.

I laugh when Kostya reaches out and snags the ball from Tyoma and throws it to a very eager Wallace. Nikolai is a skilled tattoo artist, and we’re all covered in his artwork, some of us more than others, I think, when Kostya pulls his shirt off and walks out into the cool water. The sun is starting to set, but there’s still plenty of light to see his colorful, marked body. He doesn’t have the giant bear face across his chest that all the men in my family have, but as a member of the Bratva, he has it on his forearm with the Medvedev name in Cyrillic beneath it. Everyone who’s connected to our family gets the bear tattoo. It means we’re protected. To hurt someone with the Medvedev mark is like signing your own death certificate. That’s why my own inner left arm was marked the day I turned eighteen. It’s smaller than the one the guys get, just a small bear with the Medvedev name beneath it, but I didn’t need it to be ostentatious. Big or small, it carries the same warning.

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