Page 10 of Crimson Oath (The Firebird and the Wolf #2)

Oleg had attended Vashana before, but Vashana Zata was something different. That was the festival where new leaders of the Poshani would be chosen, and usually one or more of the current terrin would pass their ceremonial goblet to a successor to keep the power moving.

Previous terrin would retire and become trusted advisors, but it was considered unwise among the Poshani to have power given to one individual for too long .

“Is it time for your retirement?” Oleg smiled. “You’re young. You’ve only been terrin for what? Two hundred seasons?”

“Admittedly, I do not know if I will continue as a leader.” Radu shrugged. “The terrin are chosen by the people. Perhaps there is one who is more beloved or better qualified than me.”

“You are being modest,” Mika said quickly. “The Poshani have thrived under your leadership.”

“Mika Arakis, you are too generous.” Radu inclined his head. “I am only one of three.”

“Nevertheless,” Oleg said, “my boyar is not incorrect.”

“And I am conscious of the compliment you have paid me by traveling to me so quickly after this unfortunate incident.” Radu did appear pleased.

“I think it would benefit both our people to be more public about our alliance. Would you do me the honor of being my witness and guest for the Vashana Zata at the end of the season?”

Oleg spread his hands. “My friend, I would be delighted.”

Mika and Oleg woke the following night and immediately flew to Tbilisi, the vampire and human capital of the Republic of Georgia where Alina Machabeli, a water vampire of great political skill, had ruled for over one hundred years.

Unlike in Bucharest, Alina had agreed to meet Oleg for a private dinner at his town house in the old Vera neighborhood.

The Georgian regent arrived in a vintage Mercedes sedan, accompanied by two guards who waited in the foyer while Oleg and Alina visited.

“Oleg, it’s good to see you.” That night Alina wore a draped suit in mossy-green silk. She handed Oleg a box of candy and a bottle of locally produced blood-wine that he immediately handed to his house manager .

“Thank you.” He stepped forward and offered his hand. “I’ve heard this vineyard is excellent.”

“I should hope so—it’s mine.”

She smiled as he kissed her knuckles, and Oleg was reminded that she had a charming dimple in her right cheek.

“Will you join me?” He gestured to a door. “I thought we could meet just the two of us since this is not a formal visit.”

“Thank you.”

“No, I must thank you for seeing me on short notice.” Oleg guided Alina to the conservatory. “You have indulged my hasty schedule.”

She had been turned as a mature woman, and the appearance of age lent Alina an air of sophistication and wisdom.

She had a smattering of silver at her temples, but the rest of her hair was deep brown, and her eyes were a rich hazel-green with fine lines in the corners that emphasized her expressions.

For her comfort and as a show of good faith, they were meeting in a room with a large fountain and no fireplace, though heat was pumped through the intricately tiled floors.

“Your orchids are thriving.” Alina walked over to survey the glass wall where dozens of the flowers hung. “What a marvelous collection.”

“My house manager dotes on them, and I am the fortunate recipient of her botany skills.” Oleg stood next to Alina, following her eyes. “You take an interest in botany yourself, I remember.”

She turned to him. “Don’t pretend like you didn’t choose this room because of it.”

“I chose this room because it’s as beautiful as my guest,” Oleg said, “and has two very comfortable seats. Shall we?” He gestured to the large rattan chairs by the fountain.

“Of course.” Alina settled into her chair and pulled a silver cigarette case from her inner suit pocket. “Do you mind if I smoke?”

“You’re asking me?” Oleg snapped his fingers and brought a flame to his hand, lighting Alina’s fragrant cigarette before she sat back in her seat.

“I was disappointed to hear about Zara,” she said. “So much potential.”

Oleg put on a brave face and slid a crystal ashtray closer to Alina. “We haven’t spoken since it happened. Thank you.”

“I know how dear she was to you and Luana.”

“Luana doted on her.” To an extremely unhealthy degree.

“It was a regrettable situation, but with her smuggling activities…” Alina gestured with her cigarette. “Sometimes our children walk paths that lead them to destruction.”

“Indeed.” The perfect segue. “I’m fortunate to have Polina and Juliya so close.”

Alina smiled. “I believe you are what humans refer to as a ‘girl dad.’”

“Ha!” Oleg smiled in genuine amusement. “Technically Juliya is my brother’s daughter, but I cannot disagree. My sons often accuse me of favoring my daughters, but that’s probably because none of them are running a territory for me right now.”

“Is that going to change?” Alina’s eyes narrowed. “I wondered why you wanted to speak directly. Has Zara’s death shifted things?”

“Lazlo was already ruling the territory I’d initially had Zara overseeing, so there have been no changes. And none on the horizon that I anticipate.”

“Lazlo and I are friendly. Well” —Alina blew out a delicate stream of smoke— “as much as Lazlo is friends with anyone. I’m happy to continue working with him.”

Oleg’s empire was roughly divided into eight territories overseen by a combination of his children and his brothers.

Some of them were crowded and dense, like the territories around Kyiv and Moscow.

Others were wild and barren, barely territories at all, like the massive Siberian plateau ruled by a quiet and deadly boyar named Lidik.

“Stability is a virtue in our world,” Alina said. “I am glad to hear that no changes are imminent. I wish the humans were as virtuous as the vampires these days.”

“Ah, but they have short, fiery lives, do they not? They must make their mark in eighty years, not eight hundred.”

“You speak truth.”

“Speaking of humans,” Oleg said. “I am curious how Zara’s newly turned daughter is faring in Arosh’s court. Have you heard anything of her?”

Alina tipped her ash into the crystal tray. “Arosh’s court is not my own. When the Fire King reemerged, he made it very clear that I would respect his territorial integrity or be erased from history.”

Oleg was sure the invasion still stung, so he was quick to add his own concessions to Arosh. “Yes, I had to be somewhat flexible with my territories east of the Volga.” He shrugged. “But there was little economic interest there, so not a great loss.”

“The same for me in the mountains. A fair exchange for a friendly alliance with such a powerful and ancient immortal. Arosh’s court is secretive, but we are on good terms.”

“Are you saying you know nothing of Zara’s daughter?”

“I’m saying I do not interfere with those who remain in Arosh’s territory.”

Oleg smiled. “Am I to understand the Fire King has not allowed the woman to leave his compound in over a year?”

“She’s not a woman—she’s a vampire now.” Alina lifted an eyebrow. “And I never said that.”

Oleg was quite thankful Tatyana was both female and vampire. “So she has been in your territory?”

Alina’s lips curved in a smile. “What do you want, Oleg?”

“Tatyana Vorona and I parted on complicated terms, considering what happened with her sire.”

“Yes.” Alina narrowed her eyes. “There are many rumors about how and when she was turned.”

“What do vampires love more than gossip?” Oleg spread his hands. “I only want what is best for the woman. I consider her…” Mine . “…part of my extended clan, and she was good friends with Elene.”

“Speaking of terrible losses.” Alina shook her head in genuine regret. “I am sorry, Oleg. A drowning? Such a tragedy.”

Oleg could never let on that his own daughter had killed such an important human under his aegis. “Truly, Elene was irreplaceable. She was something of a mentor to Tatyana, so you understand my concern.”

“Of course.” Alina took another puff on her cigarette. “My sources tell me Miss Vorona has refused to return to your territory.”

“I don’t know why that would be.”

“Was she your lover?”

Oleg felt his fangs ache. “Does that matter?”

“It seems to me that young vampires often have wild emotional swings,” Alina said. “And it seems that she has recently lost her human mentor. Perhaps she only needs time to settle into her new life.”

“You’re probably right.”

Alina reached into her jacket and withdrew another case, this one about the size of a deck of cards. “I do have security footage from a bar in Kaspi that you may find interesting.” She held the case toward him. “If you like.”

There was a twitch directly under Oleg’s eye, and his amnis jumped beneath his skin. Irritating. He hated to show any sort of weakness around others, even an ally.

He reached out his hand and took the case. “Thank you, Alina. I’ll give it to Mika if you think it might be of interest.”

“Of course.” Alina smiled and stubbed out her cigarette butt in the crystal ashtray. “Now you must tell me where your house manager obtained that red Masdevallia orchid. It’s a stunning specimen, and I do love collecting rare beauties.” She smiled. “I believe we might have that in common.”

“It’s unedited.” Mika looked at the computer screen in the main security office in Odesa. “But after about six hours of the footage at triple speed, I caught it.”

His chief boyar was standing beside one of the humans who operated the technology in the security office while Oleg was standing over the young man’s shoulder, at a safe distance from the machine.

“What?” He leaned forward, and the computer began to waver.

“No.” Mika held up a hand. “He’ll show you, but don’t break the equipment.”

Fire vampires were even more reactive to electrical current than the average immortal with amnis. Oleg had always assumed there was something about the volatility of their energy that simply set anything electronic on edge.

“Fine.” Oleg stood up straight. “So show me.”

The camera was pointed at the bar and the register, so the majority of the footage was simply humans coming and going, servers grabbing trays, and bartender after bartender pulling pints of beer, mixing drinks and?—

“There.” Mika pointed. “Did you see?”

Oleg shook his head. “Back it up.”

Mika tapped the shoulder of the young human who was operating on the computer. “Back up a few minutes and put it at regular speed.”

There was no sound, so the room they were in was utterly silent save for the hum of the electronics when the young man pointed at something on the screen and tapped several controls.

Suddenly there was simply black-and-white footage of a bar, as if they were looking on from a balcony over the action.

There was clearly music in the club because a few people were dancing on the edges of the screen while two women sat at the bar, talking into each other’s ears, and a young man wearing a cap sat at the corner, looking at a computer screen through heavy, black-rimmed glasses.

“I don’t recognize anyone.”

“The picture isn’t great, but wait.” Mika held up a hand. “Not there yet.”

As they watched, a white head passed parallel to the bar, and the two women turned to look.

“The silver-haired one,” Oleg said. “But does he?—”

“Wait.”

Oleg kept watching as the silver-haired vampire glanced over his shoulder at something, then walked to the corner where the young man was sitting.

He leaned down and said something, and then immediately the young man stood up and the two walked out of the screen.

“Did you catch it?” Mika asked. “Does he need to rewind?”

“No.” Oleg didn’t need him to rewind the footage. He knew exactly what Mika had seen.

Mika pointed to the frozen image on the screen where the silver-haired vampire had grabbed the hand of the person working on the computer. “The young man?—”

“Was not a young man.” Oleg recognized Tatyana’s breasts even when they were covered by a bulky sweatshirt. Her delicate wrists. The curve of her neck and her jaw. “I saw. Is there more?”

Mika shook his head. “It was so quick, but then I went back and rewound it, watching her, but other than working on her computer, she doesn’t do anything else. No meetings. No video calls. She orders a glass of wine she doesn’t drink and sits there working.”

Had she cut her hair? Dyed it? Or had the cap covered her glorious golden hair so thoroughly that Oleg had missed it? The quality of the camera didn’t help, but he felt blind.

Blind and frustrated.

If she could sit in a corner for hours and he wouldn’t recognize her, how was he supposed to find her?

“Obviously, once you are near to her, you’ll be able to sense her,” Mika continued, “so I’ll keep collecting footage from area bars with Wi-Fi connections.

I’m sure she’s using a VPN, so IP addresses will be useless, but visually we can be on the lookout for a young woman, or anyone who might be in disguise as?—”

“No.” Oleg’s eyes were drawn to a much clearer target. “She’s a young, recently human woman who can probably blend into many or all environments. As beautiful as she is, she can make herself somewhat forgettable. It’s useless to track her.”

Mika raised both eyebrows. “You want us to stop tracking her? She has no reason to think we know she’s going to Kaspi, and there are numerous bars and restaurants where she could access the internet.”

“No, don’t bother tracking her.” He pointed to the screen and the carved profile of the man with the silver hair.

“Track him . I’ve never seen him with his head covered.

He doesn’t speak, and I don’t see him touching anyone.

Everyone who sees him will remember a silent giant with silver hair.

” Oleg nodded. “He is how she’s moving around. Track him.”