Chapter 3 Oleg
Oleg
Ivan Sokholov, brother of Oleg and governor of Moscow, was not an ugly man by the standards of most humans. He was tall and broad with sandy-brown hair and features typical of his Slavic ancestors. He had a strong jaw and angled cheekbones. His nose was prominent and impressive.
He was not an ugly man… until he opened his mouth.
“Get that shit out of my presence.” He sneered at the young woman carrying a tray of blood-wine with five heavy-looking goblets. “You think I would serve preserved blood to our knyaz? Get your lazy ass out of here and bring back live donors.”
Oleg held up a hand. “Blood-wine is sufficient. Do not trouble yourself.”
Nevertheless, the young human scurried from the room with her eyes focused on the floor, clearly accustomed to Ivan’s outbursts.
“It’s no trouble.” Ivan was all bluster now. “You think that I don’t have live donors for you and your party?”
“I would never think that.”
Oleg’s party consisted of Mika, a vampire governor of his own territory, Oleg’s right hand and—as everyone knew—his chief spy; Ludmila and Oksana, a mated pair of warriors who were part of Oleg’s closest circle; and Charles Smith, human assistant to Oleg’s chief financial officer, Bernard Lazareva.
Charles was drinking lukewarm water.
Four vampires shouldn’t have thrown Ivan off-balance so much, so things in Ivan’s organization must have been worse than Oleg predicted.
How delightful.
His brother was flanked by four of his many sons, two who looked like idiots and were still staring at the door where the woman had exited, and two others who kept suspicious eyes locked on Oleg.
“The theft was… substantial, brother.” Oleg kept his voice low and even. “The loss of that many high-end electronics—”
“Paid from my own organization’s funds,” Ivan was quick to add. “I would not dream of asking you for recompense.”
“Nor would you get it. You asked for a measure of independence centuries ago, and I have granted it because you are effective.” He soothed Ivan’s bruised ego before he went in for the kill. “But damage has also been done to relationships important to the empire.”
“You worry about the Poshani too much,” Ivan said. “They need our business more than we need them.”
“Do they?” Oleg lifted on eyebrow. “Their new terrin has been aggressive in her expansion efforts. And according to Radu, Khori Transport didn’t realize the load they were carrying belonged to you.”
Why are you hiding, brother?
Oleg let the unspoken question hang in the air.
Ivan said nothing because there was nothing to be said.
“The trucks—more importantly, the drivers…” Oleg lifted one shoulder as he tapped two fingers on the heavy wooden conference table. “Radu was not pleased.”
It had been Tatyana more than Radu who had been furious about the violence, but the less his scheming brother thought about Oleg’s mate, the better.
Ivan huffed and looked to his right, and one of his sons handed him a folder. “The Poshani will receive a blood price for any of their drivers who—”
“I have already taken care of that matter.” Oleg waved a careless hand. “I met with them last week, as soon as reports of this theft reached me.” He glanced at Mika.
Ivan was glaring at the spy. “Then I will pay you back for whatever loss you have incurred.”
It was the moment Charles had been waiting for. “The estimate for the rush order from the Poshani terrin’s office is around seven hundred and fifty thousand, but they were quick to add that the number could change in the final invoice.”
“Thank you, Charles.”
“I’m sure the Poshani will get very fine new vehicles,” Ivan muttered. “And I will pay you back for everything.”
“Don’t be absurd,” Oleg said. “You’ve already incurred over seven million in losses and are going to have to place a rush order to keep your distributors happy. That would be an additional…” Oleg looked at Charles.
The human was quick to jump in. “Rush orders are usually at least twenty-five percent more.”
“Twenty-five percent more of seven million euros…” Oleg let the figure linger for a moment, then looked at Charles again.
“That would be nearly nine million,” the human said quietly, glancing at Ivan, whose jaw was clenched.
“Thank you, Charles.” Oleg shook his head. “You don’t have to pay me back for the trucks, Vanya.”
Ivan looked like he wanted to explode when Oleg used the affectionate nickname.
As if Oleg were the older brother, cleaning up Ivan’s messes.
Oleg felt his brother’s amnis surge through the room, and Ivan’s sons all shifted in their seats, knowing their sire would likely take out his rage on them since killing Oleg wasn’t an option.
Oleg felt his own amnis dance with gleeful satisfaction, and the air around him moved as the fire settled under his skin.
He lifted his chin and pursed his lips a bit, reveling in Ivan’s silent rage. “I simply wanted to make sure the matter was settled before the Báthory Summit next month.”
“I have plans to attend.” Ivan said. “There are some contracts in need of a personal touch.”
“Excellent.” Oleg spread his hands and smiled a little bit. “I do love when my governors take the initiative. Who are you meeting with?”
The Báthory Summit, a large-scale meeting of immortals from Eastern Europe and Asia, took place once every two years in Budapest, hosted by descendants of the House of Báthory, a notable clan of human leaders with more than a few vampire relations.
It was a chance for vampires to meet, align business interests, and party like it was still the medieval era. There would be balls and concerts, dances, and lots and lots of willing donors to drink from.
Ivan didn’t look like he wanted to tell Oleg anything about his meetings, but as much as it grated on Ivan, Oleg was his superior.
“I’m meeting with some suppliers,” he said. “A few distributors.”
Oleg’s eyebrows went up. “How vague.”
Ivan glanced at the four vampires on either side. “Perhaps we could speak privately.”
“That’s an excellent idea.” Oleg glanced at Mika, then at Ludmila, and the two rose and silently left the room. Charles and Oksana followed them, leaving Oleg alone with Ivan and his four boys.
Oleg glanced at the four men, then cocked his head.
The men trembled, looking at Ivan for permission to leave.
Ivan lifted his chin in an arrogant gesture, pointing the men toward the door.
When they were alone, Ivan turned to him. “Do you enjoy being an arrogant asshole?”
Oleg leaped across the table, his fangs bared, and gripped Ivan around the throat, shoving him against the back wall, and snarled into his ear.
“Do you enjoy being alive?” He let the fire come to his skin, rippling over his forearms and teasing the fingers that held Ivan around his throat. “Do you enjoy embarrassing our blood, brother?”
Ivan raised his hand in a fist, and Oleg speared him with a challenging glare.
Do it. Give me a reason.
Ivan raising a hand in aggression toward his knyaz would be all the excuse Oleg needed to end his brother before he could take another breath. And from Ivan’s mood before the others had left the room, no one would be surprised.
The ground beneath his feet was alive, the earthen floor as much a part of Ivan as his belligerence.
But the fire belonged to Oleg.
Do it. End him now as you should have centuries before.
Ivan’s fist dropped, and a smooth mask dropped over his features.
“Brother.” Ivan’s voice was conciliatory. “You have my apologies for any offense. It is so… discouraging when I disappoint our family. I judge myself harshly. You know I only want what is best for my sons. Truly, I do not deserve the concern you have shown me.”
Manipulative bastard.
Oleg dropped him, and Ivan was on his feet again, smoothing his shirt and donning a jovial mask, despite the anger Oleg could see still swimming behind his eyes.
“Come.” Ivan spread his hands. “Let’s drink together.” He walked to a side table and reached for a bottle of vodka.
Oleg stared at him, curious what Ivan’s next play would be.
“Come drink with me and let me ask your opinion on this Bulgarian manufacturer I am going to meet in Budapest, yes? High-end beauty products, those things that women love.” Ivan chuckled. “The humans will pay top dollar for a cream that costs five euro to make. Can you believe it?”
Oleg watched Ivan pouring the drinks, wondering if his brother would have tried to slip poison in Oleg’s drink if there were a chance it might work.
Probably.
Oleg perched on the edge of the table, his hands folded loosely. “I’m leaving Oksana and Ludmila in Moscow. As security liaisons.”
“Good, good.” Ivan’s smile looked plastered on.
“What an excellent idea. All we need to do is send Ludmila with the trucks, yes? No one would even come close if she was with them.” He chuckled.
“That woman scares the shit out of everyone.” Ivan handed Oleg a clear glass of vodka and threw his own back.
“She reminds me of my first wife. I miss her.”
Ivan had probably killed her. He abhorred powerful women and had none in leadership.
“They will report directly to me,” Oleg continued.
“Of course.” Ivan waved a hand. “I appreciate the assistance.”
Oleg would have to tell Oksana and Ludmila to be on their guard, not that they would be anything else.
“I want this to work.” Oleg clasped Ivan on the side of the neck, letting his hand remain startlingly warm. If Ivan were a water vampire, his skin would be steaming. “We’ve had centuries working together, haven’t we, old man?”
Oleg’s patronizing tone almost broke through Ivan’s facade.
“Of course.” Ivan’s smile showed the edge of his fangs. “Our family is strong, brother.”
He patted Ivan’s cheek. “Just as Truvor would have wanted.”
The silence in the room was as heavy as Ivan’s feet.
What Truvor would have wanted.
Their sire would have loved this. Loved to see Oleg and Ivan fighting. He would have laughed and laughed in glee.
Then he would have made one of them hurt the other.