Legacy in Blood (Book 1 of The Begotten of Old Series) (17 page)

But Soigu might not fall in line with the plan, and she would have to abandon the injector. He might sit in a seat against the wall or surround himself with dozens of bodyguards. Or the restaurant might be crowded with customers and the wait staff scurrying here and there, cutting off Dalana’s access to his person. In that instance she had plan C, which was at heart an extended version of plan A. Having studied Soigu out on the field, Dalana would tail him and, in as much as it was possible, dog his steps to the very end of his itinerary. And beyond that, she would have to play it by ear.

At two o’clock in the afternoon Dalana, was sitting in Den Gyldene Freden. She had to give it its due, the restaurant really was cozy, not a tourist trap at all. Besides Dalana there were only a few other diners in the restaurant and, while it remained so, everything inclined towards the implementation of plan B. Following the waiter’s recommendation, Dalana ordered some hot food and a bottle of wine and now was energetically moving her fork around her plate, imitating a hungry human. Dalana was at a table next to the wall, a good position in that it allowed her not only to observe the entire room but also to keep an eye on the entrance. She hoped to hear Soigu’s thoughts even before he walked into the restaurant.

The clock read a quarter to three when Dalana’s entire body was suddenly covered in goose bumps. A strange feeling of nervousness also struck the diners and wait staff of the restaurant. Dalana marked how several of them began to shiver, uneasily looking around in an attempt to locate the source of the discomfort that had suddenly come upon them. A belated guess shimmered through Dalana’s awareness…

And then the front door burst open and Alexander Soigu swept into the restaurant. Dalana, who been focused on finding his mental ‘wavelength’, felt as if she had slammed into a mute, impenetrable wall. She barely had time to switch off and construct her own mental shield before the wave that was Soigu’s consciousness established a connection.

A petrified waiter, who was dragging his feet, led Soigu into a separate room.

Dalana caught her breath. Another moment and he would have caught her. As Vasilisa said: a bizarre twist of fate. Dalana glanced around at the humans – it seemed they were already coming back to normal, shaking off the consternation that had overtaken then in Soigu’s presence. A woman in the far corner of the restaurant moaned under her breath, futilely struggling with a sudden influx of sexual excitement. Dalana noticed a waiter with a tray: the boy was heading for Soigu’s VIP room. Dalana’s nostrils caught the blended aroma of freshly killed meat and human fear. This last emanated from the boy, who could not understand why the customer had ordered a platter of raw veal.

Dalana now knew the real reason for Soigu’s charmed life. And it had nothing to do with luck.

Dalana raised her finger to indicate she wanted her check. Then she once again gathered together all her observations. The animalistic scent, like that of a wild beast, that caused females to tremble with lust, the strange and frightening eating habits, the powerful aura, which petrified nearby humans, the walled up consciousness… There was no doubt about it: this ‘man’ was Begotten of Old. It was also clear now why Soigu had seemed so subtly familiar to her. Simply put, he was from her World, and even though Dalana could not see his real appearance, she did not discount the possibility that at some time in the past their paths had crossed.

The waiter brought her check. As she was settling her bill, Dalana dropped her purse and began cursing out of pique. The waiter went pale and retreated a step from the table.

“It’s all right,” said Dalana, handing him the leather check holder. “I don’t need any change.”

Still pale, the waiter managed to squeeze out a grateful smile. Then he made himself scarce.

Dalana had counted on getting answers to her questions. And indeed she had. But together with those answers, there was now yet another question, by far more essential and complicated than the others:
who
was this creature in the human skin? Dalana was sure of one thing – she and Soigu descended from different Fathers and Mothers. But just like her, Soigu was a predator: dangerous and savage.

Dalana rose from her seat and headed for the exit. Plan A was no good now. Plan B was physically impossible. So all that remained was Plan C. True, it would require considerable adjustment, but Dalana had already taken that into account when she had come up with it.

Once outside, she headed for a parking lot. The time had come to settle the issue of transportation. She wanted an easily manageable and not too showy SUV. There was one in the lot. Dalana intended to steal it and to do so just at the moment when Soigu left the restaurant.

3.

 

That which you possess, also possesses you.

Petronius Arbiter.

 

Vasilisa apprehensively passed by the ill-fated entrance, recalling yesterday’s incident. The stylish Louis Vuitton valise that she held in her hand was stuffed to the brim with crisp, green bills. Her visits to each of three banks had gone off without a hitch. No one was suspicious of the sexy, slightly vulgar woman with the red shock of hair and the abundant layer of cover-up on her face. Though to Vasilisa it constantly seemed that some brute was just about to appear from around the nearest corner to knock her off her feet and to slip the cold rings of handcuffs on her wrists, it did not happen. The clothes that Vasilisa had borrowed from the wardrobe of the Begotten of Old were too big for her by at least two sizes. The jeans that should have hugged her elegant figure sagged unmercifully, the tank top more resembled a minidress, and the soles of her feet were wallowing in the soft leather loafers. Her head, unaccustomed to wigs, also felt strange.

However, neither the bank tellers nor the taxi-drivers nor the other humans who throughout the past day had crossed paths with Vasilisa noticed anything at all in her face; they remained indifferent to her. Though before she had often been exasperated to the utmost degree by such behavior, Vasilisa was now overwhelmingly grateful. In the end, having accomplished her mission unharmed, Vasilisa finally found herself at the doors of the elevator. She realized that it was broken and that she would have to walk up to the apartment.

Somewhere between the second and third floors she suddenly heard a strange sound. It wasn’t a frightening sound, no; rather it was pitiful, full of pain and desolation.

Vasilisa bounded up to the next landing and saw the source of the sound. A tiny, three-colored kitten, mewling feebly, was shaking with fear on one of the steps, shrinking into the cold, dirty stone.

“Oh you poor little crumb cake,” said Vasilisa, forgetting for a moment all about the suitcase full of money.

The kitten suddenly stopped meowing and began to sniff at the air fitfully. Cautiously, afraid of moving too suddenly, Vasilisa stretched out her hand to the kitten.

“Come here, come to me,” she coaxed tenderly.

It was almost completely dark outside when Dalana finally entered her apartment. She entered – and immediately felt that someone was there. Someone
else
, whose presence was almost imperceptible, and whose aura was so insignificant that Dalana had been unable to detect it a minute ago when she was standing outside the building, probing her apartment for the presence of any unauthorized creatures. Now Dalana also sensed the scent of the
other
mingled with the fragrance of her own perfume, which Vasilisa had apparently used quite liberally this morning.

Judging by the sounds coming from the bathroom, Vasilisa was wallowing in the Jacuzzi.

The
other
transmitted its thoughts weakly and indiscriminately on the most primitive level. The creature, its belly full and its fear somewhat abated, was in the kitchen. Not bothering to take off her shoes, Dalana followed his mental torrent. She tensed, preparing her body and mind for a possible fight with the uninvited guest.

A bound – and she landed softly on the tiled kitchen floor. From underneath the table a pair of small eyes, simultaneously frightened and curious, gazed up at her.

“Meeeeow,” said the creature in a thin voice and then mentally added,
Food…warmth.

“Scram!” commanded Dalana aloud.

The kitten, pressing its tiny ears to its head, tore out from under the table like a bullet and fled the kitchen. In the corridor it was brought up sharp by the curve and almost fell, but it found its balance in time, after which it disappeared into one of the bedrooms.

Dalana glanced at the saucer in the corner of the kitchen then shifted her gaze to the open bottle of milk that stood on the counter. A little farther, on top of the refrigerator lay a plastic bag from a supermarket. Throwing open the door of the refrigerator, Dalana beheld an assortment of groceries, enough to feed a cat for a whole week – from cat food to farmer’s cheese and sour cream.

Firmly closing the door of the refrigerator, Dalana marched into the bathroom. Vasilisa was lying in foam with a blissful expression on her face.

“Oh, hello,” she said happily. “I didn’t hear you come in. Come join me.”

Dalana stalked up close to the tub and sat down on her haunches. Now the transmog was as close as an outstretched arm.

“How are you?” Vasilisa asked animatedly. “By the way, madam, your five million awaits you in a suitcase on your bed. In cash, as we agreed. Oh, who could know how much this cost me…what I mean is, spiritually. The money itself I don’t begrudge, just so you know. It’s worth it…”

“Was it you who dragged in that kitten?” Dalana asked in an even tone, interrupting her monologue.

“Of course, who else?” acceded Vasilisa.

“Uh-huh,” nodded Dalana. “And may I ask why?”

“Listen, I couldn’t leave her on the stairs,” said the transmog indignantly. “As soon as I saw her I went all soft inside.”

Dalana linked her fingers and cracked her knuckles slightly. Vasilisa flinched but stayed where she was.

“So, it was also you who bought food for her?” continued Dalana, kneading her knuckles.

“There was nothing here for her to eat,” said Vasilisa in a heightened tone of voice. “Besides, I already told you that I needed a toothbrush. And conditioner for my hair. To hell with my clothes, but at least I can brush my teeth, can’t I?”

“You went to the supermarket,” said Dalana, lowering her voice.

“What on earth for?” The transmog gave a snort of contempt. “I called and put in an order for delivery. True, I had to bum a bit of cash from you to pay the delivery guy.”

“So that means you were also rummaging through my things?” Dalana said in a near whisper.

“You yourself gave me permission!” yelped Vasilisa in reply. “This morning when I had to pick out clothes for myself. What else was I supposed to do, huh? I only have one hundred dollar bills!”

Dalana stretched out her arm. Vasilisa recoiled in horror.

“There’s so much I want to ask you,” murmured Dalana softly, almost tenderly.

She touched the girl’s cheek with the tips of her fingers, once again noting how smooth her skin was. Vasilisa closed her eyes and began to purr blissfully. Dalana stroked the velvet skin of her cheek, and then her fingers traveled down to Vasilisa’s neck.

“About what?” moaned Vasilisa. “What do you want to ask me about?”

Dalana lightly squeezed her throat.

“Tell me,” she replied coldly, “do you ever use your head?”

And, not giving the girl time to realize what was happening, Dalana forced her arm down at a sharp angle. Vasilisa disappeared into the bubbly water. The girl started to struggle desperately. She bucked, scratched and yelled but as a consequence only sucked in water, as well as slopping a good half of the tub over the side. After counting to one hundred, Dalana dragged Vasilisa back up and let her go. She began coughing in an effort to clear her lungs and then collapsed, sliding down and quaffing down more water in her panic. Dalana roughly grabbed Vasilisa by the hair and hefted her head above the water.

“Now, you will bring that kitten in here and without any fuss you will drown her,” Dalana said crisply. “Otherwise I will drown you and pocket your money. Decide.”

“Why…are…you…so cruel?” Vasilisa gasped hoarsely, her mouth greedily clawing for air.

“Look, one more question and I will pick option number two,” Dalana hissed. “And I will not regret my choice.”

Dalana released the transmog’s hair. Vasilisa convulsively grabbed at the edge of the tub.

“I’m going now,” Vasilisa said in a bleak tone.

Dalana did not wait while the girl dragged her way out of the Jacuzzi; she headed straight for the bedroom.

The suitcase with the Louis Vuitton logo was on the floor near the bed. It was Dalana’s favorite traveling case. Two years ago in New York she had paid almost three thousand dollars for it. However, because of its present contents, the value of the suitcase had grown exponentially. Opening it, Dalana got an eyeful of the stacked packs of money. Beautiful stacks of bills in a beautiful suitcase. Contemplation of things of this nature always elevated her mood.

Vasilisa walked by the bedroom, slapping the bare soles of her feet against the floor. The kitten, which she was pressing to her own almost unbeating heart, did not guess that in a few minutes its pitiful, damp little corpse would be thrown in the trash. In its pure consciousness Dalana heard only a single, vividly expressed emotion – love. Love towards the creature that had warmed and fed it. It purred in satisfaction, pressing up against Vasilisa. The wave of pain that the transmog’s consciousness generated in reply almost knocked Dalana from her feet. Perplexed by such strength of feeling, Dalana listened attentively to Vasilisa’s mental stream as she walked into the bathroom.

It only took Dalana a moment to realize the truth of the matter. Vasilisa, who was actually fairly strong mentally, was using all her abilities, unconscious though they were, to keep a check on her emotions, forbidding herself from thinking about her murdered brother and sister. Dalana understood full well that for all their squabbling and in-fighting, both Nicholaus and Lucinda were very close to their roguish younger sister. When they perished, something in Vasilisa’s soul broke and died with them. She was channeling all her heartache into hatred towards those who had killed them. But heartache requires another outlet, not just the negative. And so now Vasilisa was projecting all her elusive grief onto a creature that had accidentally crossed her path, a creature that was worse off than she was – she poured it all out onto an unfortunate, weak, half-blind kitten, which had been cast out to die.