Page 20 of Broken Embers

“Bob.” I greet him. “What the fuck is this all about.”

“Just a bit of trouble,” Bob shrugs. “The new elder wanted security beefed up.”

“Talking about elders, we’re here to see theactingone,” Nikolas tells him.

“Operative word beingacting,” he mutters, and something like disgust flashes in Bob’s eyes. “Yeah.” He nods and turns to the other men, signaling for them to let us through. “You’ll find him at the village hall. Good luck.” He pats the door and steps back for us to move forward.

“Do you think he meant they are expecting trouble?” I ask Nikolas. “Or about to cause trouble?”

“I’m thinking both,” Nikolas’s answers set my hair on end. “Those aren’t just some guards posted at the village entrance for security.”

“My thoughts exactly,” I agree. “It’s like the Dragunovs are gathering an army.”

And that thought leaves me even colder as we roll into the village. The sun is setting and becoming nothing more than a bruised smear against the horizon. Smoke from wood stoves curls into the frozen air as the villagers prepare for the evening. There is a buzz running through the streets.

Nikolas pulls us up outside the village hall — an old stone building that looks like it was built by men who knew how to kill with rocks if they had to.

Standing at the steps, waiting like he’s the fucking Czar himself, is the man I presume is Agafon.

Short. Smug. Oily.

Exactly the kind of man I hate on sight.

Beside him stands a figure swathed in a heavy gray cloak, watching us with calm, emotionless eyes and her hands folded demurely in front of her.

Nadia Voronina-Dragunov. Irina’s twin sister, and if I remember the sibling structure correctly, she’s the youngest of Vasily’s five grandchildren from his late daughter.

I climb out of the SUV, feeling the village’s eyes burning into me from behind every shuttered window.

Agafon steps forward, arms wide in mock welcome.

“Oleksi Mirochin!” he calls. “You honor us at last with your presence.”

I bite down hard on the urge to break his nose and tell him this is no honor I’m bestowing on them, and they may have well kidnapped me, because that’s what it feels like.

“Agafon, I presume?” I reach out to take his soft hand, and he holds it out for me to shake. It’s like shaking a fucking wet rag.

“You presume correctly.” Agafon gives me a slight bow. “Acting elder of Dragunov.”

Jesus, he thinks he’s a fucking king, or by his robes and weird hat, maybe the pope.

“Hello, Nadia,” I turn my attention back to her.

“Hello, Oleksi, it’s good to see you again,” Nadia answers politely. “And thank you for your condolences. May I take this opportunity to extend mine and my family’s to you and yours for the loss of Gavriil.”

“Thank you,” I say. Ignoring the sharp sting in my heart from the mention of my brother. I turn to Nikolas. “This is Nikolas Vasilikis. A good family friend.”

Nikolas shakes hands with Agafon and greets Nadia respectfully. “I am truly sorry for the loss of your sister and grandfather,” he tells her. “They were both great people.”

“Thank you,” Nadia’s voice wobbles slightly, and her eyes brighten with unshed tears.

“Shall we move inside?” Agafon suggests. “The weather is a lot better there.” His attempt at humor falls flat.

Nadia leads the way into the village hall. Inside, it smells like smoke, and a soft buzz of curious voices greets us. A few of the older village members sit at scattered tables throughout the hall playing cards and various board games.

We are led into one of the surprisingly modern boardrooms, where Agafon takes a seat at the head of the long wooden table and Nadia sits to his right.

“Now that the pleasantries are out of the way,” I don’t wait for the idiot to begin. They need to know I am the one in charge, not them. I dictate what goes on here, not them. “Let’s get down to business.” I see the surprise lift Agofuck’s eyebrows. “First, don’t eversummonme or threaten me again.” My eyes narrow as my tone becomes dangerous. “You serve the Mirochins, not the other way around. It’s best if you pass that on to theactualnew village elder. Which brings me to my next point, Ido notliaise or make deals withactingheads. So, when, Ruslan, is it?” I hold Agafon’s eyes and can all but see his superior attitude starting to crumble. The little tit really thought he had the upper hand here. “—returns, tell him to let me know, and we can sort out the terms of the new alliance between the Mirochins and Dragunov village. Until then…”

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