Page 1 of Immaculate Deception (Romanoff Bratva)

Arya

A SMALL VETERINARY CLINIC—NEW YORK CITY—LATE AT NIGHT

People always ask me why I’m a good veterinarian. Why all the sick and injured creatures that come to my clinic listen to me. Why they love me.

The answer is simple: wounded creatures recognize one another.

And I’m as wounded as they come.

The broken part of them sees the broken part of me and vice versa. Sometimes, that’s all the medicine it takes. Just to understand that you’re not alone in this world.

I’m all alone right now, though. Not in a “woe is me” kind of way. I just mean that, literally, I’m here by myself.

Everyone else left the clinic hours ago, off to friends and families and lovers and hobbies and all kinds of things like that. But Roxie, the mutt with the broken back leg who was abandoned on the clinic’s front stoop this morning, decided she’d forgotten how to eat. So I hung around late after the work day ended to coax kibble down her throat, one hand-fed piece at a time.

She’s a scrawny little thing. Mangy, too. But she’s got eyes like pools of liquid gold and the kind of happily wagging tail that just never quits. She’s worked her way into my heart with remarkable speed.

So, I’m staying late. Like, really late. The clock on the wall reads almost midnight.

I don’t mind, though. I don’t have much to go home to. Just an empty apartment and some Chinese takeout leftovers in my fridge. Roxie needs me more than I need dumplings.

After almost three hours, she’s finally eaten a reasonable amount of food. Enough to get her through the night and help keep down her pain meds, at least.

She’s snoozing in her cage now, with that pitiful pink cast stuck out at an awkward angle. But even in her dreams, she keeps wagging her tail. I smile at the sight.

Satisfied with my handiwork, I go around the clinic to turn off lights and lock up. Then I grab my purse and keys from my locker, pull my jacket on over my scrubs, and head for the back door.

Before I get there, though, the back door explodes.

“Explodes” might be a bit melodramatic. But it definitely bursts open with an ear-splittingWHAM!The sound of the slam rattles all the contents of the clinic.

“What the fuck?!”I scream as I jump about three feet in the air like I’m in those old Tom & Jerry cartoons. My leap carries me stumbling backwards until the corner of a metal counter jabs into my spine.

I hiss in pain. But my pain disappears when I see a massive, shadowy figure moving into through the open doorway.

It’s either a huge man or a grizzly bear walking on its hind legs.

To be honest, I think I’d prefer the grizzly. I have better luck with animals than with men.

The figure stumbles in, slams the door closed, and leans against it, breathing heavily.

Definitely a man. What a pity.

I’m halfway to screaming, “What the fuck!” again—when he looks up and sees me.

At least, I think he sees me. His hood is pulled forward and low, hiding what little of his face I would have otherwise been able to see in the dim lights. The rest is obscured by a thick beard. All I can make out is the twin pinprick of dark eyes set deep in their sockets.

“Who are you?” he growls. His voice is deep. I can’t tell if it’s natural or he’s disguising it.

“Who amI?” I echo in disbelief. I grab the straps of my purse in my fist, ready to use swing it like a pair of ninja nunchuks if need be. “Says the guy who just kicked in my goddamn door! Who the hell areyou?”

He ignores my question. “You’re a doctor?”

“I’m a vet.”

“Same thing.” He moves towards me. As he does, I realize how much of his height was lost in his slouch against the door. Standing tall, he’s six and a half feet at least, and broad through the shoulders like a linebacker.

The purse in my hand suddenly feels like a pebble. David had a better chance against Goliath.

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