Page 2 of Dima's Vision
“Lexi, it’s early, what do you want?”
“Well, it’s nice to speak to you too, Uncle Dima.” I roll my eyes, opening them and grabbing my phone, peering into the screen.
Lexi’s face fills the whole screen at a terrible angle so I’m seeing a close up view of her septum piercing. “Like the view?” she smirks.
“It’s moments like these I wish I was still blind,” I say drily.
I spent two years in the dark, trying my best to earn back the gift I had been given. It was long, fucking hard and lonely but I did it. One good deed after another and one day I woke up and my vision was back. Not only my sight, but my gift. This time however it was different. I’m only shown what I need to see. Now when I have a vision I know that person is in trouble and they need me to find them. My heart is lighter now, I’m not haunted, and the things I learned during that time of darkness have only made me better at what I do. I’m a ghost bringing people home. Or so some say.
“Anyway, Uncle Dima, the parents of the child you found and returned wanted to express their thanks. They’ve sent a bonus through and would like to meet you in person.”
I shake my head before the words come out. Aside from the work I’ve done with the Landrys and more recently Devil’s Rose MC, I don’t meet anyone in person. I’m not contracted to anyone. I find whoever turns up in my dreams. However, because a man needs to survive, I have Lexi handle any payments that come my way. I never knew when I worked for the Bratva that there were contractors who charge hefty fees to find people’s loved ones. I, on the other hand, will find them for whatever the family is willing to pay. Some may have listed reward money before I dream about them, others may have given up hope and have few resources. Those people, they are my favorite families to work with. I was once paid in tortillas. Best case I ever worked.
“You know I don’t meet the families in person, Lex. I don’t like the emotion. Tell them I’m on a job somewhere else. They’ll understand.”
“You know, you’re going to have to do something about your social anxiety.”
“I don’t have social anxiety. I just like my own space and my own company.”
She rolls her eyes at me. “Anyway, that little girl you saw? The one with dark curly hair, pink dress, sparkly pink shoes? Her family has a reward for her whereabouts. Have you had any more visions of her?”
I lean to my right, picking up the notebook that sits on my bedside table. Flicking through it, I come to the page from two nights ago. Before the woman who haunts my dreams visited me, I had seen a little girl and told Lexi to keep an eye on her databases. I have no real idea what Lexi does or why she has databases. She was sent to Russia to take over her grandfather’s businesses and put a stop to the skin trade coming out of there. She’s been there for nearly three years now and has worked for me for a year using some hacking skills she managed to pick up. I have a feeling it might have something to do with Tuesday Tombs but I can’t be sure.
Staring down at the drawing of the little girl in my vision, I take a look at the photograph that Lexi has on the screen. My head throbs in time with my heart beat, my eyesight turns hazy and I see clear as day where the little girl is. She’s not anywhere dingy or unsafe. In fact she looks very well cared for. I feel the familiar tugging in my chest, the feeling of being jerked backwards has me outside the house, looking up the path to the bright green door. The number of the street address is clear as day.
“I know where she is. Let her parents know she will be home soon.”
Lexi grins at me through the phone screen. “Will do.Beregi sebya, dya´dya,”
“You take care of yourself too, niece.” I smile at her, little Lexi who came as a package deal with her father when my brother married into the Bratva.
She hangs up and I toss my phone on the side table, then flick through my notebook to today’s date. I quickly sketch out what I saw before Lexi woke me. The dark haired woman, her nightgown. I leave her nipples out of this sketch as I don’t think that’s important information. Closing my eyes I try to get a good look at our surroundings. It looks like a mansion of some sort, and there is a jack’o’lantern in the background. Halloween. The 31st is a week away so I know that I need to find her before then. Scrubbing a hand down my face I try to pin point more details but no such luck. I don’t know who she is, but I do know that whatever she is running from is dangerous. I also know, from my sheer terror when I dream of her, that somehow this woman is mine. Now to find her and make her so.
La Madrina
“Thought I’d find you here.”
I look up from the amber liquid swirling in my glass, holding it in the air as a toast. “Am I that predictable?”
La Strega “The Witch”, snorts and takes a seat at the opposite end of the large oak table. One black booted foot lands on the polished wood, the other crossing over it at the ankle as she leans back, fingers laced over her stomach. “To me you are. Afterevery time you engage my services I find you sitting in the dark, drinking whiskey.”
“My apologies that executions make me melancholy.” I bring the glass to my lips, letting a small amount of the liquid trickle into my mouth before thinkingfuck itand tossing it back, welcoming the warmth it brings me.
La Strega watches with her bright hazel eyes thickly lined in black. The effect both mesmerizing and startling. “Word has it your enemies are looking to rise up.”
I scoff, leaning forward to pour myself another drink. “They’ve been looking to rise up since I took over the Mancini family. A little principessa was never meant to climb to the top and yet here I am. They can have the title when they claw it from my cold dead hands.” I place the bottle on the table, then swirl my glass, “In the meantime, I’ll be employing your services.”
She grins at me, her slightly crooked eye teeth giving her a cute pixie goth look at odds with her role as my personal hitwoman. “Do you know why I like doing business with you?” I give her a bored look over the rim of my glass. “Aside from your amazing rack, you weren’t born with an impotent cock and balls and a role gifted to you by your father. You clawed your way to the top over all the other men in your family line. You schemed, stole, and killed to get to where you are.” She grins wider at me, taking her feet from my table, placing them on the floor to lean forward. “Means you’re hard to kill. And have many, many enemies. Enemies that you need my help to take care of.”
“It’s a good thing you like killing then, isn’t it?”
“It’s my most favorite thing.” La Strega stands, brown hair swinging around her shoulders as she stalks her way toward me, eyes darting to my cleavage, my lips, my eyes. “You know what else I love doing?” She leans in, her warm breath on my ear, “I like helping people relax. Imagine what my hands, my fingers,”she nips at my ear lobe, “and my tongue can do to help you.” She soothes her nip on my lobe by sucking gently on it.
Any other night I might be tempted, but tonight, tonight is for wallowing. It’s not every day you order a hit on your favorite cousin. La Strega’s hands move to my blouse buttons, and I let her undo two, knowing how much she loves my tits, before I stop her with my hand on hers. Turning my head toward her questioning glance, I lick across the seam of her lips then place a soft kiss at the corner of her mouth.
“Not tonight, Witch.”
She stares at me, her pupils blown and I almost think twice about her offer. “Suit yourself.” She shrugs one shoulder, “We’ll have many more opportunities for me to help you forget that you ordered some poor soul’s untimely demise. From what I heard there are at least five more who want you dead.”
