Page 5

CHAPTER FIVE

It was Ilya. The bodyguard’s face was taut with tension.

Jared lowered the glass. “Should you be walking?” he grunted.

“It’s only a flesh wound,” Ilya said dismissively. His gaze found Vlad. “We have a situation. Giovanni and Wei Chen are demanding answers.”

Vlad’s stomach churned.

That doesn’t really come as a surprise considering what they witnessed tonight. Hearing rumors about what I can do is one thing. Seeing it in action is a whole other ball game.

“Where are they now?”

“At the precinct, giving their statements. They’re sticking to the robbery story Lieutenant Dickson came up with.” Ilya hesitated. “There’s something else. Someone recorded what happened inside the restaurant. The video’s already circulating.”

“Fuck,” Cortes breathed.

Vlad clenched his teeth. Dammit! That’s the last thing we need right now.

Having other criminal organizations witness the powers they’d long suspected he had and watching him collapse at the end of that battle was going to open a whole other can of worms.

His head throbbed.

Was that those men’s endgame all along? To show that the heir to the Black Devils isn’t invincible after all?

Jared got his phone out and dialed a number. “I’ll get it taken down.”

Frustration tightened Vlad’s chest. He dropped his head against the back rest and closed his eyes again. Under any other circumstance, he would have been the one putting that call out. Except he felt as powerless as a newborn fawn right now.

Ilya spoke again. “Yuliy is on his way.”

Vlad’s eyes snapped open. “What?!”

“Milo called Gustav,” Ilya admitted guiltily. “I’d offer to put a bullet through him, but he’s already been shot.”

Gustav Luchok was Yuliy’s secretary. He’d practically brought Vlad up along with his uncle and Lena Dubravac, their housekeeper.

Vlad swallowed a groan. Of course Gustav told Yuliy.

The man was more protective of him than a mother hen.

“Yuliy can’t know.” Vlad narrowed his eyes at Cortes and Jared. “None of the Bratva can know about this. If word gets out that I’ve lost my powers?—”

Ilya froze. “Wait. You’ve lost your powers?! ”

They hushed him.

Ilya lowered his voice, his face ashen. “What does that mean?”

“It’s exactly as I said.” Vlad put a hand on Tarang. His strength was slowly returning and with it the sharp focus that was his trademark. “Neither of us can access our powers. And worse, our bond feels—different. Weaker. Like something is blocking our connection.”

Tarang made a pained sound and plopped his head on Vlad’s lap.

Vlad’s voice hardened. “You know what will happen if word gets out.”

He could tell from their expressions that no further explanation was required.

Though many wished to see the demise of crime syndicates, they were essential tools governments and law agencies relied upon to control the more abhorrent transgressors in human society. The Black Devils was one such organization, their influence in the New York criminal underworld keeping some of the more ruthless gangs trying to infiltrate the city’s lucrative drug and trafficking routes at bay.

Their enemies would see Vlad as their Bratva ’s weakness if they discovered he’d lost his powers. They would start testing boundaries, probing for vulnerabilities. Some might even try to eliminate him altogether, viewing him as an easy target without his rumored demonic abilities.

And that’s assuming the Bratva leadership in Moscow doesn’t decide to replace me as Yuliy’s heir the moment they find out.

Vlad’s nails dug into his palms at that bitter thought.

There was a time when the last thing he’d wanted was to inherit the heavy mantle worn by his uncle. But he’d seen firsthand the good Yuliy had done while in that role and he was determined to continue his legacy.

“We’re going to have to buy some time until we figure out why I lost my powers and how to fix it.”

Vlad didn’t voice the fear eating at him.

That they might not be able to fix it.

“How about getting Mae to look at your core?” Jared suggested.

Vlad hesitated. It was by far the easiest course of action.

From Cortes’s expression, he agreed with Jared.

“Give me a few days to see what we can find out first,” Vlad said reluctantly.

Jared frowned. “I’ll contain the situation from the law enforcement side. Make sure the official report shows nothing unusual.” He paused. “But the crime families are another matter. You can’t undo what they saw.”

“There is one way to deal with that situation,” Cortes said slowly.

Vlad’s pulse quickened. Anya.

The witch’s Illusion Sorcery could easily undo Giovanni’s and Wei Chen’s memories.

Jared grimaced. “How about we don’t mess with the heads of people who can bring an ugly war to the streets of this city?”

“Leave Giovanni and Wei Chen to me,” Vlad said grimly. “I’ll find a way to deal with them.”

He had no idea how he was going to handle them, but he’d figure something out. He had to.

The sound of helicopter rotors filled the air.

They looked outside.

A sleek black helicopter was descending toward a nearby rooftop, the Vissarion family crest visible on its side.

“Yuliy’s here,” Ilya said unnecessarily.

Vlad grimaced.

He must think I’m at death’s door if he took the helicopter.

He steeled himself before climbing out of the vehicle with Tarang and the others. His legs were steadier this time, though his body still felt wrong.

Tarang brushed against him, their damaged connection humming with shared anxiety.

Vlad clenched his jaw.

He had to convince his uncle nothing was wrong with them.

Cortes studied him, troubled. “You sure you can do this? You still look like death warmed over.”

“I don’t really have a choice,” Vlad muttered.

They crossed the street toward the building where the helicopter was shutting off its engine. The diamond studs in Vlad’s ears caught his eye as they reflected off a window they passed. The weapons had remained stubbornly inert despite his silent commands.

This left him feeling even more vulnerable.

The helicopter had landed on top of a parking structure. Its rotors were slowing as Vlad and Ilya climbed the access stairs and emerged onto the rooftop, Cortes and Jared following at a discreet distance.

Yuliy Vissarion stepped out of the aircraft, his clothes whipping in the downdraft. Though in his sixties, Vlad’s uncle still exuded a formidable presence. His silver hair caught the emergency lights as his sharp gaze found them.

Gustav climbed out after him. The secretary’s usually unflappable demeanor evaporated at the sight of Vlad. He hurried over.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” Vlad managed a reassuring smile. “Just a few bruises.”

It wasn’t exactly a lie. His body ached all over.

Yuliy’s scrutiny felt like a physical weight as he approached. He embraced Vlad, his arms squeezing him tightly.

Vlad knew the older man was anxious, even if he didn’t show it.

Yuliy let go and stepped back. “What happened?”

“We think it might have been a professional hit squad,” Vlad lied proficiently. “At least fifteen men. They came through the windows during the negotiations.” He glanced at Cortes over his shoulder.

Cortes nodded, poker-faced.

Yuliy dipped his head at the Colombian. “I hear you helped. You have my gratitude.”

Cortes shrugged. “You can add it to my tab.”

Yuliy’s gaze switched to Vlad. “The Lucianos and Wei Chen?”

“They’re safe. Ilya got everyone out.”

Some of the tension left Yuliy’s shoulders. “Any casualties?”

“A few of our men took hits, including Ilya and Milo,” Vlad replied. “Marco Luciano caught a bullet, but he’ll live.”

Yuliy and Gustav stared at Ilya.

“You took a bullet?” Concern laced Yuliy’s voice.

He and Ilya went back a long way.

“Missed my ass by a few inches,” Ilya grunted.

Yuliy ran a hand through his hair. “The whole point of tonight was to prove we could maintain peace between the families.” His mouth flattened to a thin line. “Looks like we failed spectacularly.”

Vlad’s jaw tightened. “I’m sorry.”

Yuliy lowered his brows. “I’m not blaming you. It’s clear this was an orchestrated attack. We need to find out who’s behind it and what their aim is before the fallout buries us.”

Vlad could feel Cortes’s and Jared’s gazes burning a hole in the back of his head.

“I’m afraid I have more bad news.”

Yuliy sighed. “Let me guess. The Lucianos and Wei Chen saw something they shouldn’t have?”

Vlad nodded. “Tarang manifested his presence during the fight. And Cortes and I used our powers.”

Yuliy rubbed his chin slowly. “We can handle the families,” he said after a moment. “It’s not ideal, but it won’t be the first time we’ve had to explain things to outsiders.”

“There’s something else.” Vlad’s nails dug into his palms. “Someone recorded the incident and posted the video online.”

Yuliy froze. He cursed viciously in Russian in the next instant.

Gustav’s eyes had darkened, the deadly focus that made him Yuliy’s right-hand man returning to his face. “How much did they capture?”

“All of it,” Jared grunted. “The video is already down. But a lot of people saw it.”

Gustav took his cell out and started calling people, his expression somber.

Yuliy observed Vlad critically. “Go home and get some rest. I’ll send some men to watch over your place.”

Vlad opened his mouth to protest.

“That wasn’t a suggestion.” His uncle’s eyes softened slightly. “Whatever else happened tonight, you kept your word. The families are alive. Let me deal with the politics.”

It was a dismissal, albeit a gentle one.

Vlad nodded reluctantly. “Yes, dyadya .”

He turned to leave.

“I’ll assign you a new bodyguard,” Yuliy said. “Ilya and Milo will be out of action for a while.”

Ilya protested.

Yuliy cut his eyes to him. “You either take the time you need to heal or I’ll put another bullet through your leg.”

“Yes, boss,” Ilya murmured miserably.

“I don’t need a babysitter,” Vlad said irritably. “I have Tarang.”

Tarang yowled, similarly incensed.

“Really?” Cortes muttered behind him. “You two want to have that argument right now?”

Yuliy’s eyes shrank to slits. “You’re having a bodyguard and that’s that.”

Vlad ground his teeth. Great. Just great.