Born into Darkness (Devils Will Rise: Melnikov Legacy #5)

Prologue

Talia

“Are you finally ready?”

I run the brush through my hair one more time before turning to face my best friend. Alina, or Allie as we all call her, is sprawled across my bed in a dramatic heap because apparently I’m taking way too long to get ready. She’s the type of person who’s perfectly content to just pull her blonde hair into a ponytail and put on whatever clothes were last thrown on her floor before walking out the door. She’s also beautiful enough to get away with it.

Making her wait a few more seconds, I add another coat of mascara before finally turning around to face her. “I’m ready.”

“Finally,” she groans while pulling herself from my comfortable bed. “You’re aware we’re just going to the beach for a bonfire with our families, right? It’s not like we’re on our way to a hot date.”

She gives another dramatic sigh and says, “I’m never going to get my hot date, am I?”

I laugh and wrap my arm around her shoulders. “Yes, you will. Men already drool every time they see you.”

She huffs out a breath, managing to make that small sound carry years of pent-up frustration. “Yeah, you mean from a distance and through the line of bodyguards we’re forced to surround ourselves with?”

“It’s for our own protection,” I tell her, reciting the line that we’ve both heard since birth. My dad and two uncles run the Medvedev Bratva, but Allie’s dad has been working for them since long before either of us were born. My brothers and cousins have joined the ranks, and even though that means more freedom for them, Allie and I are still guarded at all times. It’s an odd upbringing, but I trust my family. If they say it’s important, then I believe them.

“I’m twenty-three,” she grumbles as I lead her from my room. “I’m going to die a virgin. That’s probably what they’ll put on my headstone. Here lies Alina Petrov, daughter of Andrei and Svetlana. She went very unwillingly to her grave as a virgin. ”

I laugh and shake my head at her dramatics. “Don’t forget I’m in the same boat you’re in.”

“You’re only twenty-one. I’ve got two years of spinsterhood on you. I can feel every minute of sexual frustration aging me.”

I give her a supportive side hug, even if I am laughing while I do it. I feel her pain, though. We’re surrounded by walls of tattooed muscle, but none of it counts when it’s your relatives or men who are old enough to be your dad. I don’t mind age gaps, but I’m just not personally into it myself.

As soon as we reach the living room, Wallace, my border collie, jumps up from where he’d been lying by my oldest brother and runs over to me, tail wagging and eyes lit up with excitement. I immediately squat down to wrap him in a hug. He licks my face, so happy he can barely sit still. When I’d turned sixteen, my dad asked me what I wanted, and instead of picking a car like most sixteen-year-olds, I’d asked for a dog. What’s the point in getting a car if I can’t ever go anywhere alone anyway? Besides, Wallace is a thousand times better than a car could ever be.

“Such blatant favoritism,” Dmitri says from the couch, watching the way Wallace is sitting and staring at me like I’m his entire universe. “My feelings are hurt, Wallace.”

At the sound of his name, two dark ears perk up, and he gives my brother a quick glance before putting all his focus back on me. I laugh and shoot Dmitri a smile. “Don’t be jealous, Dima.”

Allie snorts out a laugh and plops down on the couch next to him. “As if you don’t have enough people drooling all over you.”

Dima nudges her with his elbow. “Now who’s being jealous, Allie cat?”

“Hey,” she says, laughing at the nickname he gave her when we were kids. “I could have groupies, too, if I was ever allowed to leave this fortress.”

“What fortress?”

We all turn at the sound of my dad’s voice. He walks into the kitchen with my mom, both of them smiling like they’ve been up to something that I definitely don’t want to know about. He grabs my mom a drink from the fridge before getting one for himself. Kissing my mom on the head, he asks, “Do you know what they’re talking about, zolotse ?”

My mom smiles up at him and shrugs. “No idea, but I know they can’t possibly be talking about this gorgeous house and forty acres of beachfront property that anyone would be thrilled to call home.”

Allie smiles over at them. “You know I love it here, Uncle Vasya. It would just be nice to venture off the property every once in a while.” She quickly adds, “Please don’t tell my dad I said that.”

My dad laughs. He’d built Allie’s parents a house on the property after they got married, along with his two other top men, Ilya and Nikolai, so we’ve always been right down the road from one another. We loved it when we were kids. She was always over here playing. Along with Yulia, my Uncle Valeri’s daughter, and Sitka, my Uncle Volodya’s daughter, we’re the only girls. We’ve always been as close as sisters, and we have nothing but happy memories here, but now that we’re grown, we’re getting a little antsy. Well, most of us are all grown. Sitka was a late-in-life surprise for my Uncle Volodya and Aunt Maddie and is still only sixteen.

“You make it sound like you’re prisoners,” my dad says, wrapping an arm around my mom as they walk into the living room. I’m not at all surprised when he takes a seat and then pulls her down onto his lap. They’ve always been affectionate, my uncles are the same way, but I know they’re not always like this. I may live a sheltered life, but I’m not an idiot. I know what my family does for a living, and I know they didn’t get to where they are by being nice. It’s hard to picture my dad and uncles as being violent, though. Just because I know it’s true, doesn’t mean it’s something I can easily envision. Despite all the tattoos and muscle, I just see my family when I look at them—the men who have always taken care of me and filled my life with unconditional love.

“We know we’re not prisoners,” I tell him while giving Wallace a good scratch behind the ears. “It’d just be nice to have some of the freedom the guys have.”

Dima laughs and points a finger at Wallace. “Then you should’ve asked for a motorcycle like I did instead of a dog.”

I wrap my arm around Wallace and kiss his furry head. “Ignore him, boy. He’s just jealous that I’m your favorite.”

My brother shrugs. “I am kind of jealous about it. Maybe I should get one too. Wallace would have a friend, and I could be someone’s favorite.”

Wallace wags his tail at the mention of his name, keeping his eyes firmly locked on mine. The intense stare of a border collie is not something I was aware of until after I’d gotten him and experienced it firsthand. It’s all the more dramatic with his heterochromia—one eye is a vivid blue while the other is more of a golden brown. Both are glued to me right now with a hyper-focused intensity that’s not often found in animals. I think he’s a genius, and when I ask him if he wants me to throw the ball for him, he instantly takes off running to find it.

Dima looks at his phone and says, “Everyone’s here.”

My mom hops up and looks out the wall of windows that give a clear view of the beach that extends as far as the eye can see behind our house. She turns back to us with a big smile on her face. “Volodya and Valeri are docking their boats.” Looking at Allie, she says, “Text your parents and tell them to get over here.”

Allie grabs her phone and sends off a text before looking at Dima. “Come on. Put all those muscles to use and help me carry the food down.”

My dad laughs at the look my brother gives Allie and then stands to help them. When I hear the unmistakeable sound of a motorcycle, I grab the ball from Wallace’s mouth and say, “I’ll get Bran.”

I run for the door with Wallace right on my heels, and as soon as I open the door, he bolts out so he can race around the driveway. When Bran’s black bike turns the corner, I swear Wallace tries to herd him to the garage. My brother’s dark helmet obscures his face, but I know he’s grinning.

When he looks over at me, I raise a hand and sign Crazy dog, laughing when I see him nod in agreement. Bran and I are the same age. We were both three when Mom and Dad adopted him. He was left at the women’s shelter our mom runs, and as soon as she saw him and realized that not only was he scared to death and alone but also deaf, it was a done deal. He’s been a member of our family ever since. We were never able to find out who his birth parents were, and the only sign language he knew was the four letters to spell out his name. None of that mattered to any of us, though, and as soon as the paperwork went through, he became a Medvedev. He’s my brother, just like Dima is, and Bran and I have always had a special bond.

He pulls his helmet off and runs a hand through his light brown hair before turning his hazel eyes to mine, signing, Everyone here?

At the beach, I sign back, laughing when he gets off the bike and Wallace whimpers with excitement until Bran squats down to pet him.

Joining them, I meet my brother’s eyes and ask, How was the ride?

He shrugs a broad shoulder and signs, Peaceful.

Bran’s always loved his motorcycle. He’s used to a world of silence, and he’s always come off as bit of a loner because of it, but when our parents got him a motorcycle when he turned eighteen, it opened up a new world to him—one of speed and danger and excitement. My mom was terrified the first few times he went out, but my brothers and cousins all have motorcycles, and as crazy as they are, they aren’t stupid. They know how to handle themselves on a bike, and I know that for Bran, especially, it helps calm some deep part of him, and he’d be devastated if this pleasure was ever taken from him.

“Is my granddaughter down there?”

I look up at the sound of Katya’s voice while I fingerspell her name to Bran. He turns his head and gives her a wave that she quickly returns.

“Yeah, she’s bringing food down with Dima,” I holler to her.

Soon our grandma, babushka Tatiana, steps out too and gives us a big smile. They both share the large apartment above the four-car garage since it’s huge and easily fits the two of them. Plus, I think they like the companionship of having a roommate. Katya used to cook for my dad and uncles when they were young, and then she followed them to America with her daughter, Allie’s mom. She’s in her eighties now, though, so they’ve convinced her to retire.

Our grandma moved here after we were born. My dad said it took them years to convince her to come here, but after she arrived, she fell in love with the place and with all her grandkids. I’ve always known her as the loving, happy woman she is, but from what I’ve heard it wasn’t always that way. She fell into a depression after my grandpa was killed, and it took her decades to crawl her way out of it, but I’m so glad she did, because I can’t imagine our lives without her.

She signs while she asks how we’re doing, and even though her hands are a bit arthritic and slow, she loves signing to Bran.

We’re good, Grandma, Bran signs. Heading to the beach. Want to walk with us?

“I’ll be down soon,” she tells him. “Katya and I made some dessert for later.”

Can’t wait , Bran signs, making her smile even bigger.

We keep telling the two of them that they don’t need to keep cooking so much, but they both genuinely love it and insist that we need to remember our Russian roots and a good bowl of borsch is the best way to do it. The food tastes too good to argue.

Katya yells that she’ll be down soon, and when they’ve gone back inside, I wrap my arm through Bran’s and pull him around to the side of the house so we can take the path to the beach. As soon as there’s space, I throw the tennis ball and laugh when Wallace takes off at a fast sprint. He quickly brings the ball back, and this time Bran throws it, putting it way further down the beach than I’d been able to manage.

I squeeze his arm. When he looks down at me, I sign, S howoff .

Using both his hands, he smiles and signs, You throw like a girl .

I try to look pissed, but he’s not buying it. He smiles and chucks me under the chin, a playful gesture that he’s done since we were kids. When he sees my mouth open in a laugh, he knows he’s won. Grabbing my arm, he leads me towards the beach, stopping to toss the ball for Wallace every time he brings it back.

“There you two are,” my mom calls, signing the words as she says them before pulling Bran in for a hug. He pats her back and uses his other hand to wave to the rest of our family.

My Uncle Volodya looks over and signs, How was the ride?

While Bran answers him, I walk over to the large bonfire that my cousins are setting up. Allie’s overseeing from a distance and when they keep stacking logs and making it bigger, she laughs and says, “Wow, trying to compensate for something?”

Misha lifts a dark brow at her while Yuri, his younger brother, laughs and Aleks scoffs out a breath.

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.

When Kostya’s parents get here, we start fixing plates and get settled around the fire. I smile at his mom, returning her hug when she’s close enough. Nikolai married Sabrina when I was little, and he’s been slowly decorating her body over the years. I love the designs he’s come up with, and when she pulls back, I take a second to admire the newest addition to her arm. It’s a trail of delicate flowers with a couple of dragon flies, and Nikolai’s managed to make the wings almost shimmer, like he’s caught them mid-flight.

“I don’t know how he does it,” I say, and when he looks over at me, I add, “This is amazing, Nikolai.”

He beams at me and wraps an arm around his wife before he kisses the top of her head. “How could it not be when I have such a beautiful canvas to work with?”

Sabrina smiles up at him while my Uncle Valeri laughs and says, “Stop trying to make the rest of us look bad.”

“You could never look bad,” my Aunt Evie tells him, making him grin and pick her up.

“Thank you, lapochka ,” he tells her and then shoots Nikolai a smug grin.

My dad and uncle laugh at their younger brother, and when they walk off to help with the food, Tyoma and Kostya make their way over to join us. Wallace is wet and filthy and ridiculously happy. I sit on a log next to Allie and Yulia while we laugh and watch the guys try to create the biggest bonfire they can.

We spend the next several hours eating way too much and laughing until we can’t breathe. Allie’s right about us wanting more freedom, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love spending time with my family. I wouldn’t trade these moments for anything, and when everyone is packing up and heading back to their boats to go the short distance to their own houses, I stand up and start giving out hugs.

“Yulia and I will grab your Aunt Maddie and Sitka on our way over tomorrow,” my Aunt Evie says. “It may not be the exciting night of clubbing you were hoping for, but I promise we’ll have fun.”

I squeeze her back and smile. “I know we will. I was going to say we won’t have as bad of a hangover either, but I’m not so sure. You and mom and Aunt Maddie can put ‘em back.”

She laughs and kisses my forehead. “You bet your ass we can.”

Overhearing, my Aunt Maddie says, “The men don’t have anything on us.”