11. Yana
Fyodor’s Rules #1 - Never say more than you have to.
Walking into the Masquerade alone was an odd feeling. I had always imagined that when I attended this gathering as an adult, it would be with my brothers by my side. Fyodor was out doing recon work, taking advantage of the opportunity that everyone was busy here. It made sense, as of the two of us, he was more recognizable. Most of the Underground, but particularly the Bratva, knew him and could identify his tattoos. Some were likely to recognize his wolf’s scent as soon as he walked into the building.
As I walked into the crowd, head held high, it was hard not to feel alone. But I had spent the last decade working alone, and I knew how to turn it into my strength. The dress also helped. Its cold metal was slowly warming against my spine, hanging heavy, like a reassuring presence. It helped that the dress hugged me like a second skin. Coupled with the statement stilettos I was wearing, it felt I was walking into battle fully armored.
All these years later, the divisions between the families were still clear. There were some small merger’s spread around, through marriages mostly. But as I looked around the room, I could see the distinct lines. Angelic Italians cloistered in one corner. The Irish clustered around the bar, talking amongst themselves in their melodic fast-paced lilt. The Bratva were congregated diagonally across from the Italians, mostly seated. And that left the Armenian’s clumped together around a few tables, playing cards. There was no sign of the boys yet, but I wasn’t letting that distract me. I had more than one goal tonight, and they weren’t even at the top of my list.
As much as Fyodor kept telling me that letting them catch glimpses of me was a good thing, I wasn’t ready for that yet. When they saw me, I wanted it to be on my terms. I wanted the knife to be already buried in their chests, and the first looks they gave me to be shock and betrayal.
They hadn’t granted me the courtesy of meeting my eyes as they betrayed me, but the thought of seeing the moment they realized karma had finally called was one that I relished.
Conversations were taking place all around me. Some were more interesting than others, so every time that I latched onto one that might be useful, I circled round. It wouldn’t be possible to just stand in one place, I’d get caught eavesdropping, and the no violence rule of the evening didn’t mean there would be no repercussions for perceived slights. When I was younger, I’d heard stories of the things that happened to people who had broken the rules of the Masquerade, and none of them were things I wanted to happen to me.
The Italians were talking about marriages, and it seemed like they had a few daughters that were of a suitable age. I could hear their men talking about the most helpful matches, but I ignored those conversations. They could make suggestions all they liked, but I had met some of the Italian nonna’s when I was younger; no daughter, granddaughter, or niece of theirs was going to marry a man that didn’t have their seal of approval. If you thought a Mafia made man was scary, that was nothing on a slighted Nephilim woman. They were righteous—vengeance embodied—flaming swords and all.
Hearing Nikolai’s name mentioned, all my attention was snagged to the hushed discussion. There one of the women, wings folded against her back and a mask that made it look like she had a thousand eyes looking everywhere at once, was holding court. Most of the surrounding women were younger, but that meant little.
“There are much worse matches. I could have set you up with Lukas or Alexei.”
I was glad that I had spent so long learning to school my expression, as well as wearing a mask. No one could see how much I truly wanted to sneer right now. It had always bothered me, the way some people would talk about my brothers, trying to pit them against each other. As though we were in competition. That had been a long time ago. Unfortunately, as much as I thought I had let it go, this return home was showing me just how many of these old feelings I actually hadn’t processed.
Now was not the time to deep dive into my psyche and teenage traumas, it wasn’t even really the time to be spying on random conversations. Suddenly, I could feel the hair on the back of my neck standing up, and I knew someone was watching me. My eyes flicked around the room, and I saw him standing near the doorway. The red-veined jacket made me roll my eyes. After spotting Nikolai, it didn’t take long to spot Pasha, the other two, however, would be harder to find. I kept my eyes open, but the important thing now was not to draw too much of their attention. Like Fyodor said, we wanted them intrigued, but we didn’t want to blow the entire game just yet. I was sure I didn’t have Pasha’s attention. He was too engrossed in his conversation, greeting the people around him like they were lifelong friends; shaking hands, kissing cheeks, even clasping arms, or hugging a few. It was easy to glide through the crowd, putting more people between us. Despite that, the feeling of being watched didn’t go away.
My eyes kept flicking to Nikolai, he hadn’t moved, though I was sure he was watching me. And every second that I could feel his eyes fixed on me, I could feel my heart racing a little faster. Step-by-step I moved through the crowd, running different escape scenarios through my head. It wouldn’t be too difficult to distract him, a few well-placed words and I could have someone in his face in a heartbeat. But that meant showing my hand, and that was something I was trying to avoid.
I was so focused on Nikolai that I didn’t notice someone else was approaching until they were looming over me. I never let people into my personal space unless it was on my terms, and I turned to snap at them when the words died in my mouth. Green eyes I knew almost as well as my own captivated me, rendering me speechless.
This was it, everything was over. Lukas now knew I was back, and there was no way I was walking out of here alive.
“Why do you smell like nothing?” His voice grumbled as he continued to loom over me menacingly.
I couldn’t keep myself from blinking in confusion, it had been so long since someone had commented on my lack of scent. I didn’t smell of nothing. Perfume had been dabbed across my pulse points, and I knew I smelled of Dolce Gabbana’s “The Only One”.
Did he not know it was me?
Knowing that I needed to be careful, I kept playing mysterious. “Is this some sort of pickup line where you offer to cover me in your scent?”
I kept my voice low, only loud enough for him to hear. Hoping ten years was long enough for him to forget what I sounded like. Unfortunately, it hadn’t been long enough for me to forget them.
His sense of humor hadn’t improved over the last decade, and outsiders always thought that Nikolai was the serious one. He could be, he definitely had that whole brooding vampire aura going for him, but he had nothing on Lukas. It was like he had been born with the weight of the world on his shoulders. Lukas wasn’t just serious; he was downright severe. And his growl told me he didn’t appreciate my joke or my flirting, but that didn’t stop me.
I touched his arm lightly as I leaned in. “You know, if you go around asking women why they smell, they’re going to think you are nothing but an animal. If I wanted to be chased, I would be running. Instead, I am going to turn, walk away, and not answer your demands. And you are just going to have to live with that.”
Was I playing with fire? Most definitely. But I needed to get out of this conversation. I had thought I was ready, that I could face them. But here I was, literally face-to-face with my past, and I could feel the tremble wanting to shake its way down my spine.
Walking away from Lukas was hard. I felt like there were three sides to me, all warring with each other. One wanted to stay and talk to him, to fall back together as though the last decade had never happened. The quietest part wanted me to run, to flee from him, but was that because I knew he would chase us? The loudest part was crowing for blood, demanding that I turn around and slide my stiletto between his ribs, letting the blood pool around us both.
What better way to signal to everyone that I was back, stronger than ever, than by taking out the fiercest of them?
But Fyodor had a plan, and I knew now wasn’t the time. Patience was a virtue, and whilst I may have been a sinner, I liked to pretend I walked a less dark path now and then.
I heard the whispers following behind me, felt the eyes on my back. Nikolai wasn’t the only one watching now. Eyes from all corners and families were now following my movements. The attention was nothing new, and it didn’t bother me. I just straightened my spine as I walked, no, strutted away. No fear, and no turning back; Lukas was behind me in more ways than one.
My path took me past the silver jacket I had tagged Pasha wearing as soon as the boys had entered. Leaning in as I passed, I slipped a card into his top pocket.
“If you think that was fun to watch, just see what I can do when I really want to enjoy myself,” I whispered the words against his ear, and let the crowd swallow me again before he could form an answer.
I may not have seen them for a decade, but I still knew my brothers. This dance was only just beginning.