Page 28 of Born into Blood

“Maybe we can meet her sometime,” Yelena says, giving me a grin and her approval before she’s even met Lara.

“Maybe,” I tell her. “I hope so.”

Before they can question me any more, we all turn at the sound of a vehicle approaching. When the black SUV comes into view, Val gives a soft laugh.

“Vitya is probably so pissed she dragged him out here.”

Vitya is Svetlana’s personal bodyguard, a man who constantly infuriates her. I swear her main goal in life is to get a rise out of him, but so far he hasn’t caved. It’s impressive as hell.

I see her light brown hair when she gets out of the passenger side, but it isn’t until she walks around that I see the huge grin lighting her face.

“What do I get to tag?”

I smile at her enthusiasm. The men in our family have always lead the Bratva, but Sveta and my Uncle Lev’s youngest daughter, Mia, have always disagreed with that. Sveta is happy doing smaller things like designing the tattoo we all have on our forearms or coming out in the middle of the night to tag a building, but Mia wants a gun and to be right next to us when the killing starts. She’s fifteen now, so we still have a few years to talk some sense into her, but I have a feeling she’s not going to give up easily.

Vitya is silently standing behind her, looking his usual friendly self, which is to say his mouth is in a tight line and he’s looking around for any hidden threats. He’d almost died a little over a year ago, and if Sveta hadn’t demanded they do an immediate vein-to-vein transfusion, he would have. Ever the lady, she reminds him of it any time he pisses her off.

“Inside the stairwell,” I tell her, pointing at the open door behind me. “The wall next to the stairs.”

“Sweet.” I swear she lets out a giggle when she jogs back to the SUV with Vitya following close behind. She looks over her shoulder and huffs at him. “I’m right fucking here, Vitya. Relax.”

He doesn’t answer her; he rarely does. He just stands watch, knowing it pisses her off all the more when he’s silent. She mutters something, and I swear I see his mouth turn up in a small grin before he hides it.

“Got it,” she says, turning around with the spray cans in hand. We rarely tag buildings, so she’s even more excited than usual. Tagging isn’t something we need to do. Anyone of any importance knows who we are and what areas are ours. This is more for show than anything. If that asshole or any of his friends decide to come back, they’ll see this and know it for the warning it is.

She covers her nose and mouth with a neck gaiter to protect herself from the fumes and gets to work. She takes after my Aunt Katya and is a gifted artist. She can design a tattoo, draw any damn thing you want, or graffiti a wall, all while making it seem effortless. The hiss of the cans fills the air, and we all step back so we don’t breathe in the fumes. Vitya just pulls up his own gaiter and stays close to her, keeping watch just in case.

While she’s busy, my cousins and I wait by Val’s car. Yelena leans against it, resting her ass partially on the hood, and if I wasn’t sure there was more to their relationship, the fact that he isn’t yelling at her for touching his car is proof of it. He doesn’t even seem slightly irritated by it. I swear she could turn around and kick it, and he’d just smile at her.

“I can’t believe they’re letting you out without Sergei or Aleksandr now,” I tell Yelena.

She smiles and gives a playful eye roll. “As long as I’m with one of my super tough cousins, I no longer have to have a bodyguard with me.”

“Perks to being eighteen, I guess,” I tell her.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure it has more to do with you guys almost being twenty. You’re starting to take over things, and if they can’t trust you to keep me safe, then we’ve got big problems. I think my dad would prefer it if I still had at least two men watching me at all times, though.”

I smile over at her. “Uncle Matvey is never going to change his mind about that.”

“No, he is not,” Val agrees. “I think if he could lock her away safely for the rest of her life, he would.”

“He just worries,” Yelena says, defending her dad, because my cousin is absolutely a daddy’s girl. She has a very close relationship with both her parents, but there’s always been a special bond between her and Uncle Matvey. He’s overprotective, but we all know he has reason to be. It’s obvious that Val thinks he’s more than capable of keeping our cousin safe, though, and I don’t envy him the conversation he’s going to have to have one day.

“Done!”

We all turn at the sound of Sveta’s excited voice. She waves the fumes away from her face and steps out of the stairwell, tugging her gaiter down and exposing her huge smile. She’s so much like our Uncle Vitaly—always teasing and cracking a joke and more than ready to get into trouble at a moment’s notice.

“Wow,” I tell her when I step in and see what she’s created. It’s not as detailed as the tattoo on my arm, but it’s pretty fucking good for a quick spray-paint job. The Grim Reaper’s head is partially obscured by the black cloak, but you can see the lower half of its skeletal face and the wicked grin he’s giving. The scythe is raised above its head, and she even brought along some red so the blade looks like it’s dripping blood.

“Fucking nice,” Val tells her, smiling at his twin.

She returns the grin and nudges his shoulder, looking pretty damn proud of herself. Vitya stands silently a few feet away. She turns to him and asks in an overly sweet voice, “Don’t you think it looks good, Vitya?”

His only response is a soft grunt that could mean, It looks fucking amazing or I really don’t give a shit.

“Well, that’s helpful,” Sveta mutters, tossing him one of the spray paint cans.

He catches it and raises a brow.

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