Page 3 of One For my Enemy

“A new product,” Marya said, as Dimitri slid open the thick parchment to reveal a set of narrow tablets in plastic casing, each one like a vibrantly-colored aspirin. “Intended for euphoria. Not unlike our other offerings, but this one is something a bit less delicate; a little sharper than pure delusion. Still, it’s a hallucinatory with a hint of…novelty,if you will. Befitting the nature of our existing products, of course. Branding,” she half-explained with a shrug. “You know how it goes.”

Dimitri eyed the tablet in his hand for a long moment before speaking.

“I don’t, actually,” he replied, and Lev watched a muscle near his brother’s jaw clench; another uncharacteristic twitch of unease, along with the resignation in his tone. “You know Koschei doesn’t involve himself in any magical intoxicants unless he’s specifically commissioned. This isn’t our business.”

“Interesting,” Marya said softly, “very interesting.”

“Is it?”

“Oh, yes, very. In fact, I’m relieved to hear you say that, Dima,” Marya said. “You see, I’d heard some things, some very terrible rumors about your family’s latest ventures”—Lev blinked, surprised, and glanced at Roman, who replied with a warning head shake—“but if you say this isn’t your business, then I’m more than happy to believe you. After all, our two families have so wisely kept to our own lanes in the past, haven’t we? Better for everyone that way, I think.”

“Yes,” Dimitri replied simply, setting the tablets down. “So, is that all, Masha? Just wanted to boast a bit about your mother’s latest accomplishments, then?”

“Boast, Dima, really? Never,” Marya said. “Though, while I’m here, I’d like you to be the first to try it, of course. Naturally. A show of good faith. I can share my products with you without fear, can’t I? If you’re to be believed, that is,” she mused, daring him to contradict her. “After all, you and I are old friends. Aren’t we?”

Dimitri’s jaw tightened again; Roman and Lev exchanged another glance. “Masha—”

“Aren’twe?” Marya cut in, sharper this time, and now, again, Lev saw the look in her eyes he remembered fearing as a young boy; that icy, distant look her gaze had sometimes held on the rare occasions he’d seen her. She’d clearly learned to conceal her sharper edges with whatever mimicry of innocence she had at her disposal, but that look, unlike her falser faces, could never be disguised. For Lev, it had the same effect as a bird of prey circling overhead.

“Try it, Dima,” Marya beckoned, in a voice that had no exit; no room to refuse. “I presume you know how to consume it?”

“Masha,” Dimitri said again, lowering his voice to its most diplomatic iteration. “Masha, be reasonable. Listen to me—”

“Now, Dima,” she cut in flatly, the persistence of blithe civility vanishing from the room.

It seemed that, for both of them, the playacting had finally ceased, the consequences of something unsaid dragging the conversation to a sudden détente, and Lev waited impatiently for his brother to refuse. Refusal seemed the preferable choice, and perhaps even the rational one; Dimitri did not typically partake in intoxicants, after all, and such a thing would have been easy to decline.Shouldhave been easy to decline, even, as there was no obvious reason to be afraid.

(No reason, Lev thought grimly, aside from the woman who sat across from them, some invisible threat contained within each of her stiffened hands.)

Eventually, though—to Lev’s stifled dismay—Dimitri nodded his assent, taking up a lilac-colored tablet and eyeing it for a moment between his fingers. Beside Lev, Roman twitched forward almost imperceptibly and then forced himself still, dark eyes falling apprehensively on the line of their brother’s neck.

“Do it,” Marya said, and Dimitri’s posture visibly stiffened.

“Masha, give me a chance to explain,” he said, voice low with what Lev might have called a plea had he not believed his brother incapable of pleading. “After everything, don’t you owe me that much? I understand you must be angry—”

“Angry? What’s to be angry about? Just try it, Dima. What would you possibly have to fear? You already assured me we were friends, didn’t you?”

The words, paired with a smile so false it was really more of a grimace, rang with causticity from Marya’s tongue. Dimitri’s mouth opened, hesitation catching in his throat, and Marya leaned forward. “Didn’t you?” she repeated, and this time, Dimitri openly flinched.

“Perhaps you should go,” Lev blurted thoughtlessly, stepping forward to join his brother’s side, and at that, Marya looked up, her gaze falling curiously on him as she proceeded to rapidly morph and change, resuming her sweeter disposition as she recalled his presence in the room.

“You know, Dima,” she said, eyes still inescapably on Lev, “if the Fedorov brothers are anything like the Antonova sisters, then it would be very wrong of me to not reward them equally for ourfriendship.Perhaps we should include Lev and Roma in this,” she mused, slowly returning her gaze to Dimitri’s, “don’t you think?”

“No,” Dimitri said, so firmly it halted Lev in place. “No, they have nothing to do with this. Stay back,” he said to Lev, turning around to deliver the message clearly. “Stay where you are, Lev. Roma, keep him there,” he commanded in his deepened crown-prince voice, and Roman nodded, cutting Lev a cautioning glare.

“Dima,” Lev said, senses all but flaring with danger now. “Dima, really, you don’t have to—”

“Quiet,” Marya said, and then, save for her voice, the room fell absent of sound. “You assured me,” she said, eyes locked on Dimitri’s now. It was clear that, for her, no other person of consequence existed in the room. “Spare me the indignity of recounting the reasons we both know you’ll do as I ask.”

Dimitri looked at her, and she back at him.

And then, slowly, Dimitri resigned himself to parting his lips, placing the tablet on the center of his tongue and tilting his head back to swallow as Lev let out a shout no one could hear.

“It’s a new product, as I said,” Marya informed the room, brushing off her skirt. “Nothing any different from what will eventually come to market. The interesting thing, though, about our intoxicants,” she said, observing with quiet indifference as Dimitri shook himself slightly, dazed, “is that there are certain prerequisites for enjoyment. Obviously, we have to build in some sort of precautionary measures to be certain who we’re dealing with, so there are some possible side effects. Thieves, for example,” she murmured softly, her eyes still on Dimitri’s face, “will suffer some unsavory reactions. Liars, too. In fact, anyone who touches our products without the exchange of currency from an Antonova witch’s hands will find them… slightly less pleasant to consume.”

Dimitri raised a hand to his mouth, retching sharply into his palm for several seconds. After a moment spent collecting himself, he lifted his head with as much composure as he could muster, shakily dragging the back of his hand across his nose.

A bit of blood leaked out, smearing across the knuckle of his index finger.

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