Dima’s Vision (31 Days of Trick or Treat: Biker & Mobster #20)
Prologue
Dima
“I-I can’t see brat.”
“Your visions? You can’t find the target?” Sasha’s voice is muffled down the line, sounding distracted.
“No, I can’t see. It’s all black. Brat, I’m blind.”
Sasha’s sharp inhale has my stomach plummeting. My older brother is steady, calm in every situation. That small breath may not mean anything to anyone else, but to me, well, to me it means that I have a right to be worried.
“Mládshiy brat, where are you, little brother?” Footsteps echo over the phone, then a car door slams.
“I’m at home.”
He grunts his acknowledgement. “The Znákharka, what did she say last time you saw her for your training?”
I swallow thickly, sliding off my couch onto the cold hardwood floor.
Sometimes the feel of it reminds me of where we came from.
Before Sasha fell in love with Roman. Before he pulled me out of the poverty of our Russian village and placed me into the luxury that being part of the Bratva in America can afford you.
It’s all fake though, all of it. There is no comfort in the glitz and glamour of where we live now.
The money may be better, but the rot of the underbelly is still the same.
“Dima?” Sasha barks down the line, horns honking in the background. “What did the Znákharka say?”
“She said if I kept using my sight for evil the fates would take it from me.”
He’s quiet for so long I start to think the call has dropped. “Is what we do evil?” he asks softly.
“Sasha, I use my gift to find men who owe Roman a debt. I can’t imagine that’s what the fates were thinking when they gave me this.” I wave my hand at my eyes, even though my brother is on the phone and can’t see me.
I lean my head back on the cool leather of the couch, eyes closed.
No point having them open at this moment.
Everything is a black abyss of my own doing.
Roman never asked me to become his “Finder”.
It was something I offered. A way to be useful enough to earn my place in the Bratva my brother belonged to.
Growing up a poor scrawny kid I had to fight for scraps.
Roman showed me a life better than that.
Or so I thought. After five years I’m jaded. Tired. And now blind.
“Dima! Dima, it’s me. I’m coming in mládshiy brat,” My door rattles momentarily before Sasha’s heavy footsteps echo on the wood of my apartment, quickening when he sees me.
I count four steps before I feel his presence beside me, his huge hands wrapping around my biceps pulling me into him.
“We’ll fix this. We’ll find a mystic who can fix this. ”
Leaning back I push him away from me, so I can face him, or where I think he is.
I can’t see his bright blue eyes, identical to mine, but I know they’re on my face.
“There is only one thing we can do. If the fates have deemed me unworthy of my sight then I have to work to become worthy again.” I swallow thickly. “I need to leave the organization.”
He growls as his grip on me tightens, “Like hell! Dima, you’re family. I’m not letting you leave!”
Frustrated by the situation I shove him slightly, “You’d rather have me blind and a burden?”
“You will never be a burden! You’re my baby brother! You can’t leave, you’re fucking blind Dima, or have you forgotten that?” Anger laces his voice, but that ratchets mine up even more.
“Of course I haven’t! It’s my fucking vision that’s gone, not yours!
Dammit Sasha, if there is a chance I can get my vision back then I have to take it.
I have to reverse all the bad shit I’ve used my gift for.
I’ve helped Roman take too many lives. Now, I’m going to save lives. With or without your help.”
His swallow is audible, as is his resigned sigh. He presses his forehead against mine, his large hand cradling my neck. “What can I do?”
“Help me leave.”
“Of course mládshiy brat, of course.”