Page 9 of Crimson Oath (The Firebird and the Wolf #2)
Oleg
R adu le Basarab—wind vampire, Poshani terrin, and all-around pain in the ass—had a club in downtown Bucharest called Zarvǎ, which smelled of human sweat, pungent perfume, and spilled beer.
While the vampire lounge was soundproofed, less crowded, and less odorous than the human part of the club, it was still not Oleg’s favorite place to meet.
“It costs Radu so much money to make a place so cheap,” Mika muttered.
“Quiet,” Oleg said. “Be respectful.”
“We’re not there yet.”
“Fine.” Oleg watched the streetlights as the car drove through empty city streets. “Get it out of your system now so you can play nice.”
More curses in rough Estonian that left Oleg smiling.
He’d tried to lure Radu to his town house with the promise of showing the vampire a new piece of art Oleg had acquired in Cologne the year before.
Radu was a lover of any art but especially anything by Marc Chagall, and Oleg had purchased a beautiful new Chagall piece that was currently hanging in his Bucharest library.
But Radu had insisted on Zarvǎ, so Oleg and Mika took a car to the back alley where the vampire entrance to the club was located and waited as Oleg’s security staff and Radu’s negotiated who and how many were allowed into the club.
Mika made a face when he heard the thumping music. “I will never understand this man.”
Oleg wasn’t sure he understood Radu—how much did any vampire understand another?—but he could appreciate the scope of the immortal’s interests. He owned clubs and bars but also a thriving chain of fresh grocers and numerous farming operations.
“He could have asked to meet us at the cowboy bar,” Oleg said. “This place isn’t that bad.”
Oleg’s man gave them a nod; then Oleg, Mika, and two of their soldiers were allowed to enter the club and walk up a set of stairs to a second story that overlooked a churning human dance floor.
Inside the vampire section, the dance music had been muted to an acceptable level in consideration of immortal ears, and since the human club was packed, the vampire club was as well.
They left their security standing by a wall and walked through the dimly lit club, which was decorated with luxurious velvet wallpaper and leather-upholstered booths. As they threaded their way through the booths and tables, Oleg detected different traces of amnis in the air.
Two young vampires he recognized from Alina’s court, probably in Romania on holiday.
A solitary, dark-haired woman who smelled of ashes and dust. She had the distinct air of Arosh surrounding her.
A jovial table of Greek vampires, newly freed by the recent turnover of their own court.
And in the corner, a former lover named Maria sat with two broad-shouldered, matching vampires who looked like square-headed Cossacks .
Maria glanced Oleg’s way and lifted her glass in a silent toast.
He inclined his head, and it wasn’t lost on him that Maria had been forced to substitute two men to replace him.
In the far corner, Oleg saw a small clutch of Poshani Hazar guards holding court with a group of human women who all wore small ruby pins at their neck. Radu’s hired donors.
The Poshani vampires watched Oleg and Mika with smiles on their faces and suspicion in their eyes.
Their lord waited for his guests in a velvet-shrouded booth where servers slipped in and out with large bottles of blood-wine, trays of caviar, and other delicacies.
“Mika Arakis.” One of the Hazars nodded at Mika, then at Oleg. “Lord Oleg, you are welcome.”
“Duke, how are you?” Mika asked.
The man scanned them up and down, glanced at his men by the wall, and lifted his chin. “All is peaceful, thanks to the clan.”
Oleg asked, “Ready for spring?”
The corner of Duke’s mouth turned up. “Always.”
They walked toward the curtained corner, and Mika pulled back the drapes.
“My friend!” Radu stood and held out his arms. “Welcome.”
He was a barrel-chested man who was probably turned in his mid-thirties, with dark hair, dark eyes, and the sculpted cheekbones characteristic of the Poshani people.
When Radu lived in Bucharest, he was the life of the party, throwing lavish dinners featuring human chefs flown in from across the world. He collected art and wept openly when he went to the ballet, which was frequently.
Radu was also smart as hell, disappeared from public life for six months at a time, and had a mouth like a Moscow taxi driver. He loved hunting and fishing, knew nearly every vampire in Eastern Europe, and ran a moving safe house called the kamvasa.
“Radu.” Oleg walked over, embraced his ally, and patted Radu heartily on the back. “Don’t tell me you’re forced to find women at the nightclubs now.”
Radu guffawed and motioned Oleg to sit down. “Hardly, hardly.” He craned his neck to look around the lounge. “But who doesn’t enjoy being surrounded by beautiful women, am I right?”
Mika looked their server up and down as she set crystal goblets in front of them. “A beautiful woman is never a hardship,” he said. “Thank you for meeting us on short notice.”
“It was fortunate you called.” Radu’s smile fell, and he flicked his fingers at the human who was serving them, sending her away and leaving only Oleg, Mika, and Radu in the quiet, curtained booth. “I was already hearing rumors that made me uncomfortable, my friend.”
Radu picked up an open bottle of blood-wine and filled their goblets before he filled his own, lifted it, and took a drink. After his initial sip, Mika and Oleg both joined him.
“We dispatched at least one vampire from your clan.” Oleg believed in directness. “He and a group were operating in our territory with a team of human thieves. They beat our truck driver into a coma before they stole the freight and took it to a warehouse.”
Radu wasn’t wearing a smile anymore. “Was this the first incident?”
Oleg looked at Mika.
Mika said, “This was the fourth incident in six months. It was vexing enough that Polina called Oleg about it.”
“Your daughter is a capable ruler.” Radu lifted his goblet and drank. “If she called you, it is not without reason.”
“Thank you, and I agree.” Oleg’s eyes never left Radu.
“We don’t know if any of the other vampires killed were Poshani.
The one left refused to speak more than a few words.
I understand a blood price must be offered to his clan, but given the circumstances…
” Oleg spread his hands. “You must understand our concerns as well, my friend.”
“Our people have lived in your territory for centuries,” Radu said. “ The Poshani have no interest in interfering in our hosts’ businesses. It goes against every law of hospitality we hold sacred.”
Hospitality codes among the Poshani were inviolable.
They had strict rules about interference with any people or organization that offered them roaming rights, and if a vampire bartered for shelter within their seasonal caravan—the kamvasa—they were protected by any and all means for the agreed-upon dates.
“Who was he?” Mika leaned across the table and kept his voice low. “Do we have a problem?”
Radu waved a hand. “He was one of Vano’s men, but my brother had disciplined him for a minor infraction and the young one took it too much to heart.
He struck out on his own. His sire was upset by his death, but Vano has made it clear that the blood price will be all the recompense he is given.
Sami was working outside the organization. ”
“Do you know who they were working for?” Mika asked.
“Not yet, but I’ll keep asking,” Radu said. “His sire has questions too.”
“The other vampires we killed along with him,” Oleg asked, “none of them were yours?”
Radu shook his head. “Not that I know of. We felt Sami die, but he was the only loss.”
When an immortal child died, a sire felt it in their own body. Their amnis was tied together, so the moment the Poshani vampire had been killed, everyone with a blood tie to the dead would have known it.
“How is your employee?” Radu asked.
“Recovering in Moscow.” Oleg swirled his blood-wine before taking a sip. “Thank you for asking.”
“Sami’s sire will be making financial settlements with you for the damage to your human.”
Oleg raised a hand in the expected objection. “That is not necessary.”
“You must allow him.” Radu pressed on. “This is our way.”
“Your clan has suffered a death, and my driver is still alive.”
“But he is injured, and we must make this right for his family,” Radu continued. “And for you, our ally.”
Oleg had bargained with the Poshani for many years. Three times offered was a sincere overture. If he rejected Radu’s recompense, the Poshani terrin would be offended.
“If you insist,” Oleg said after a long pause. “I will pass this settlement to his family. I’m sure his wife and children will be grateful.”
“And of course, the greater harm is to the appearance of conflict between our people.” Radu leaned his elbow on the table. “Any appearance of division between the Poshani and your empire will be seen as a weakness and an opportunity to exploit both of us.”
Oleg sipped his blood-wine and lifted one shoulder in a reluctant shrug. “I cannot disagree with you. Much as I would like to.”
“The Vashana is being held at the end of the season, of course. And this year is Vashana Zata, which only occurs once a century.”
Vashana was the yearly festival and grand gathering of the Poshani clan, human and vampire, and it was held at the end of the kamvasa season, before the winter set in and the Poshani went to their settled homes or commenced traveling out of their territory if they couldn’t stand remaining in one place for too long.
“The centuries pass swiftly, old friend. The Vashana Zata is this year?” Oleg sipped his blood-wine. “I had no idea.”
Which was not a lie. The Poshani were so secretive he doubted many outside the clan knew that a major event of this magnitude was happening in the woods of Eastern Europe.