The Russian Cage Read online

  “Yes, bought and paid for,” I said, lest he should think I’d stolen them.

  Lucy kept up a conversation while Felix drove in grumpy silence down to the island ferry. There was a big car lot outside the gates to the ferry entrance, and he had to park far from the docking area.

  Lucy had a hat on, which was good, because maybe she wouldn’t be as recognizable. As we walked to a spot closer to the gate, she said, “My mother has petitioned for Eli’s release. She filed the petition with the proper judge this morning.”

  “On what grounds?”

  “Because he hasn’t been formally charged in court, like American law demands, and that’s still the law here… though our Russian justice system…”

  Here Felix made a rude noise.

  “Hush!” Lucy said sternly. “As I was trying to say before Felix so rudely interrupted me, Lizbeth, our system of laws from Russia is very different, and there’s still a lot of talk and—palaver?—about whether the tsar will agree to the American system in place or whether everything will change. There’s been time. I think Tsar Nicholas was reluctant to, uh, rock the boat.”

  “If Alexei has a brain, there will only be minor alterations,” Felix said. “He is in place as emperor, but if he starts making life miserable for the people, instead of adding glamor and stability, he may find himself back on a boat.”

  “I agree,” Lucy said.

  Felix turned to look at her in astonishment. “You do?”

  “Why are you surprised? I, too, have a brain.”

  I was a couple of steps behind them. I grinned to myself.

  “Of course you have,” Felix said, in a much quieter and more civil tone.

  “Ferry’s here,” I said, and we picked up our pace.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  We wanted to see without being seen. On the busy waterfront, that was harder than I’d imagined. I picked a spot between the first two rows of cars, which was camouflage, but there was no way to pretend we weren’t watching the people get off the ferry. To make it more difficult, there were two ferries, and as soon as one unloaded and started back to the island, another docked in its place. So that we wouldn’t present the same grouping, we moved around from time to time briskly. We wanted to look like we had a reason to be there. We didn’t want the guards who checked everyone going onto the ferry to notice us and ask us our business.

  This late, few people were going to the island: night watchmen, cleaning crews. But there weren’t enough of them to provide any kind of smokescreen.

  At least the evening was dark and shadowy.

  I was glad of my new jacket. Rain was coming soon. The air had turned misty and clammy. I felt damp down to my bones. I wondered if I were coming down with something. I was so seldom ill that I hardly remembered the last time I’d felt bad with anything other than a gunshot or a wreck. I knew a healing spell that Eli had taught me, and there was a little magic in me from the man who’d raped my mother. I chanted the spell silently, hoping it would work, and after a few minutes I did feel better.

  People poured off the ferry, men and women alike. Some of them got into automobiles, some of them got on the cable cars making a stop at the entrance to the car park, some of them trudged off into the streets of San Diego. Our cover was vanishing. Soon we would be obvious.

  I was ready to kill Dima Zaitsev. I’d steeled myself to do it. I was trying not to think about how unhappy I felt. This was what I had to do to get Eli free. He would do the same for me, I told myself. I could not be any less strong.

  I had my hand around the hilt of the knife in my jacket pocket. I hoped to draw this Dima into a shadowy area between parked cars so what I was doing wouldn’t be too obvious. Or I could follow him for a few blocks, catch him in a lonely place. If only he didn’t cry out… I set my teeth and told myself to stop the foolishness.

  Then Lucy turned to Felix and said, “There he is, with the beard.”

  Before I could fix on my target, Felix plunged into the crowd and joined the people walking toward the road. He came up behind one of the men—big, heavy, muffled in a dark coat and cap. Felix got very close to the man’s back. In the uncertain light, I saw Felix’s mouth move. The man, a tall, heavyset guy with a thick dark beard, started to turn. He opened his mouth as if he were going to say something to Felix in return. The words never came out. His body collapsed to the dirty pavement. Felix sidestepped the fallen man and kept going. Felix jerked his head to make sure we would follow.

  I took Lucy’s arm to speed her up, as the next person to come along, an elderly woman, stumbled over the body. The woman didn’t exactly scream, but she shouted. The guards came running, except for those directly at the ferry gangplank. A number of people simply circled the body and kept their course, anxious to get home and eat and sleep.

  As Lucy and I hurried along with them, I talked myself down.

  I hadn’t had to do it. I had turned myself into iron to get it done, and now I didn’t have to kill Dima Zaitsev. It was silly, it was ridiculous, that I felt shocked and shivery. It took all I had to keep myself in motion. If I faltered, I would make myself notable, and Lucy, too.

  We caught up with Felix and walked along in step. He wouldn’t be able to keep it up for long. Death magic took a lot of energy to perform. When he stumbled, I took his left arm while Lucy took his right.

  Lucy didn’t exclaim or raise a ruckus. Except for a little gasp when Dima had folded to the pavement, she had stayed silent.

  None of us spoke for at least three blocks. The crowd thinned as workers branched off to go home. Finally, we stopped and leaned against a shop window.

  “I’ll go back and get the car,” I said, holding out my hand for the keys. It was the least I could do.

  Felix fumbled in his pocket and dropped them into my hand.

  “Thanks,” I said, and he could take that as he wished. Then I took off walking so Felix didn’t have to respond. Maybe I was having some of the same reaction as the grigori. I’d hardened myself to do something I didn’t want to do, but I’d meant to succeed anyway. Now I felt a hole where Zaitsev’s death should be.

  A man grabbed my arm. He was rat-faced and stank. “How much for a trip into the alley over there?” he said.

  “More than you can pay,” I said, and yanked away from him. I’d been sure he’d been going to accuse me of causing Zaitsev’s death.

  Rat-face stared after me as I went to Felix’s car. Maybe he decided that if I could afford a car, I really would charge him too much. He spat and walked away. Not for the first time, I was glad I didn’t have to be a whore.

  I drove to the corner where Felix and Lucy waited. Felix got in the front seat, where he leaned back, his eyes closed. After a moment, Lucy got in the back. She huddled in a damp heap, her lips pressed together.

  I had to do some thinking and figuring, but I made it to Felix’s little house.

  Lucy said, “Where is this?” She leaned forward, tiny wrinkles in her forehead.

  “This is Felix’s house,” I said.

  “Oh! I can’t…” She took a deep breath. “I can’t go into a single man’s house, especially at night. Even chaperoned.”

  I grabbed hold of my temper with both hands. “Then we’ll drop Felix off here, so he can sleep. And I’ll take you to your house and return here.”

  “But you should not be here, either!”

  “We’ll talk about this later.” I went around to the passenger side and began hoisting Felix out. Then I held out the keys to Lucy. “If you can get close to the back door without losing your good name, unlock it for me. You don’t need to come inside.”

  I felt like a heel when I saw her eyes were shiny. Until this moment, Lucy had been a champion. She snatched the keys from my hand and stomped up the back steps. After a little fumbling, the girl unlocked the back door and pushed it open. She even reached in and turned on the kitchen light.

  I was glad Felix was small as we wove through the kitchen and into the living room, turned left to
go down the hall to the bathroom and the two bedrooms. It was easy to tell which was Felix’s, since the other one had nothing in it. I wasn’t at all surprised to hear Lucy’s footsteps behind me, since she was bound to be curious about a bachelor’s house, and especially curious about this one because she knew Felix was interested in her.

  Since I wouldn’t put it beyond Felix to play dead if he wanted to listen to what Lucy and I said, I made sure he was out the minute I eased him onto the bed. I took off his shoes and his jacket (which involved rolling him from side to side, at which Lucy giggled) and arranged him on the bed in what looked like a comfortable position.

  Lucy was having a good old time looking at Felix’s bedroom, which (like the living room) was neat without being really clean. His closet door was open, so we could see his three pairs of shoes lined up, his coat, and some pants and shirts. The top of his chest of drawers held a dish full of coins, some pretty rocks, and a brush and comb set neatly beside a small mirror.

  “I need to use the bathroom,” Lucy whispered.

  “Go right ahead,” I said in a normal voice. Felix wasn’t hearing any of this.

  Lucy shut the door behind her, and I heard her say, “Ugh!” Felix needed to learn how to scrub a toilet and a tub.

  I pulled a blanket over Felix, who looked like a nice person when he was asleep.

  I drove Lucy home. We didn’t talk much along the way. I was sure she’d ask questions about how Felix had killed Dima Zaitsev, but not a one passed her lips. That made me wonder.

  I drove to the back door of the Savarov house, which was dark and silent.

  “Good night,” Lucy said stiffly. “I didn’t mean to be so prissy.” And she marched to the kitchen door in the light rain, which had just begun falling.

  I waited until she was safely in the house before I turned Felix’s car in a circle and left. I’d gone a block or two and was waiting my turn at the stop signal by the corner grocery. I figured I would leave Felix’s car at his place, then walk to the Balboa Palace. I glanced over to read the clock in the grocery window. Though this had been another long, long day, the clock read 7:30.

  The light changed, and I pushed down on the gas pedal.

  And a question popped into my brain.

  It was just seven thirty. Why had all the lights been off in the Savarov house?

  I even drove a couple more blocks before I turned back, simply because I was tired and didn’t want any more problems to solve. I parked on the street. I wanted my guns so bad it hurt.

  I snuck up to the house on the grass and slipped into the backyard. I couldn’t avoid the gravel entirely, but I did my best to step softly.

  I double-checked the house. There was a very dim glow in Veronika’s upstairs bedroom window, like a night-light. That was all.

  Absence of light. Absence of sound.

  Though Lucy had just returned to the house from a very unusual outing, her mother and sister were not asking her a million questions.

  The rain had stopped, but I could feel it in the air. I wished for thunder, but I didn’t get it. Got lightning, though, which helped me get right up to the kitchen door without falling on my face. I remembered Lucy had opened the back door without unlocking it. I hoped I could get in.

  If I had let Eli’s family get killed… I couldn’t face the thought.

  I was quiet as a snake. I turned the doorknob so, so slowly. Unlocked! Crept inside, keeping down. Lucky I had planned on killing Dima Zaitsev, because I had a good knife.

  I took my shoes off in the kitchen. I crept to the door leading to the dining room. There was a small glow at the edges. Flickering a little. A candle.

  I scoured my head for my memory of the room. I’d walked through it once. A gleaming table with seats for six. A sideboard. Pictures on the wall. Two windows to my left. Curtains must be drawn tight, or I would have seen the candlelight when I’d skirted the house.

  I eased the door open a couple of inches. Looked through the crack.

  The chair at the foot of the table closest to me had been pulled out of place. But three of the chairs on the long sides of the table were occupied, and the one at the far end was, too.

  John Brightwood, the giant grigori who’d been in prison with Eli, was facing me. He had a heaped plate in front of him—chicken, bread, cheese. He was eating with his fingers, wiping them on the table itself. Veronika, Lucy, and Alice were sitting in the side chairs.

  The three women watched him. But their bodies didn’t make the slightest twitch. Brightwood had frozen them in place.

  He had uncovered their breasts and left them sitting there, bare to him and to one another. For these women, this was the last word in humiliation.

  I would kill him for this.

  Now I regretted giving Eli the spelled rock. I needed to be able to surprise Brightwood. I had no gun. And Felix was out of it for the night. Dammit. Not a word I used often, but tonight it fit the bill.

  All I had was my ability to resist magic. And a knife. I set myself to action.

  I needed to move swiftly, and I needed to shock him. I worked out what I would do.

  “Your tits are sagging a bit, Veronika,” Brightwood said, pointing a chicken leg at Eli’s mother. “Probably breastfeeding all those babies. Who sucked the hardest? Eli? Peter? Or one of these little gals?”

  I flung the door open, screamed as loud as I could, and leaped onto the table on my stomach with all the force I could muster. I slid across the polished surface like the wood was greased. My knife arm was extended as I slid, and I sank the knife right into Brightwood’s chest, just below the breastbone. He’d had a second to drop the chicken leg and raise his hands, and he fired some magic that skidded past me.

  Then John Brightwood looked down at the knife protruding from his chest, half-smiled, said, “Bitch.” And died.

  I had food all over my arms and face. I pulled the knife out of his chest.

  I scrambled backward off the table, not wanting to knock into the three women… who were all looking behind me, eyes wild. I whirled to find that Natalya had been standing there the whole time.

  Brightwood’s spell had hit her, maybe not full force. It hadn’t disabled her. The older woman jumped at me, a candlestick in her hand, her face all twisted with rage. She swung hard, aiming for my head, but I squatted and came up under her raised arm. Stabbed her. Yanked back.

  Natalya shrieked in pain, and blood bubbled out of her mouth and spotted her uniform. Her arm hung uselessly from her shoulder like it didn’t belong to her.

  I hung back to see how much fight was left in her. But Natalya was done. She sank to the floor, her back against the wall, and after a few moments, she died, staring into some dark hole I could not see.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  The Savarov women recovered from the spell Brightwood had put on them pretty quickly, maybe because he was dead.

  Alice fell to pieces. She started crying as she pulled her blouse together and fastened two of the buttons.

  Lucy got up, though she was shaking like a leaf. She put her arms around her little sister. Veronika pushed back from the table, took care of her clothes, and said, “Alice, take care of your sister’s dress.” Since Brightwood had ripped Lucy’s dress, there really wasn’t much that could be done, but Alice pulled herself together enough to help Lucy pull up her bra. Lucy finished buttoning Alice’s blouse. Brightwood had been in control of himself when he first got here, but by the time Lucy came in, he was drunk on his power over the women, and he might have been drunk, period. I noticed an amber bottle by the plate of food.

  “Thank you,” Veronika said, turning to face me. I had slumped down in a chair, the knife still in my hand and dripping blood.

  “My job,” I said.

  “How is that so?”

  “You’re Eli’s family.”

  A large number of expressions crossed Veronika’s face, one after another. I couldn’t name them all. She took a deep breath and nodded. Now she knew.

  “You up
to talking?” I asked, when I could be sure my voice was steady.

  Veronika said, “Yes.” Alice was still sobbing, but other than that sad sound, the house was silent.

  “Did John Brightwood tell you how he got out of jail?”

  “He said he had gotten time off for good behavior,” Lucy said.

  “He said Eli had told him to come to our house,” Alice said, looking at me with a wet face. She hiccupped a few times.

  “He said a lot of things,” Veronika added.

  “Did you know who he was?” I was trying to keep my voice real even and calm.

  “I had heard of him,” Veronika said. “At court. How bad he was. But he, Brightwood, was also in jail for murder, like Eli, and I know my son is a good man. There was a chance Brightwood might be also.”

  “So you let him in.”

  “No, Natalya did. We only knew after he was inside, and Natalya called up the stairs to tell us we had a visitor from the jail, and Alice and I thought it was Eli. We came down the stairs running. But it was Brightwood.”

  There was a long silence. Alice quit crying, Lucy straightened up and closed her eyes, and Veronika looked like she wanted to be anywhere else.

  “So how you want to play this?” I said.

  They all looked puzzled. I felt like being anywhere else myself. I took a deep sigh.

  “We got to hide the bodies.” I was doing a lot of that lately on behalf of the family. “You can call the police in the morning and say you found a lot of blood downstairs, that someone must have broken in after you went to bed, and your maid hasn’t shown up to work.” Then I had a better idea. “Or you can call ’em right now. Say that John Brightwood broke in and stabbed Natalya, but she stabbed him back and killed him. I’ll go back to my hotel now if you want to do that. I’ll need a new blouse to get there without someone calling the police on me. Or we can all tell the truth.”

  Alice and Lucy looked to their mother. Veronika looked at me, then at the bodies, then at me again.

  “Brightwood came here because he got released,” Veronika said, thinking it through as she spoke. “And he got released even though he is very dangerous. Was dangerous. And bad. And his first thought was to come and degrade us? Whom he had never met? I don’t think that was his idea.”