kid insisted. "Freaky Uncle Ivan, the blind guy with the white film over his eyes, called Boris over like he could see him, grabbed him by the throat, and in this voice that sounded like . . . like . . ." The kid shivered. "It sounded deep and strong and spooky."
"Uncle Ivan never has liked Boris," the leader said. "He's baiting him."
The kid shrugged uneasily. "Yeah. I wish I believed that."
"So what did he say?" one of the other guys asked.
"Uncle Ivan told Boris the deal with the devil is breaking apart, that unless the Varinskis get their shit together and kill that guy who married the Gypsy—"
"Konstantine," the leader said.
"Yeah, Konstantine. If the Varinskis didn't kill Konstantine and his whelps and the bitch he married, the Varinskis would become a laughingstock and the pact would be broken. The whole thing gave me the creeps."
The story gave Rurik the creeps, too. He'd assumed his mother's vision was an isolated incident, and without considering it, he'd figured some benevolent force had worked through her. The vision had warned his family of trouble, instructed them about how to break the pact with the devil.
Now it sounded as if one of the Varinskis had had a similar vision telling Boris to destroy Konstantine and his family—or else.
Shit
"So what has this place got to do with it?" The guy with the bag pulled it open. He tossed a round metal disk to each of the others.
"Uncle Ivan said there was an icon, some kind of holy thing, that we had to find." The kid caught a disk and attached it to a pillar. "I guess the icon's here, and we're going to blast it to smithereens."
Rurik, who'd been concentrating on eavesdropping, realized that his killer cousins . . . were the demolition team.
No wonder they didn't care if someone hid in here. They were going to blow the tomb, and possibly destroy the icon, his father's chance for salvation and ... oh, God, would Tasya survive?
"You knew Konstantine, didn't you, Kaspar?" the kid asked.
"I knew him," the leader said.
"Is it true he was the biggest, best boss we ever had, and Boris was afraid of him?" The three subordinates turned to Kaspar and waited for the answer.
"He wasn't the biggest, but he was smart. Wily. When he fought, he always won. He had great strategies, and when he was in charge, the Varinskis were the greatest power in the world." Kaspar spit on the ground. "Not like now." The team was quiet, setting the charges. Rurik didn't dare move. The icon . . . and Tasya. Would he lose them both?
The kid said, "Boris better do something soon, or he's going down."
"Did you overhear that, too?" Kaspar mocked. "Boris is my father, but Vadim is my brother. Vadim has my loyalty, and I promise, he's the next boss." The kid smiled, and turned his head toward the sunlight. Rurik jumped.
His lips were colored red; his cheeks were equally bright; his eyes were slanted. Maybe he wore makeup so he could look like that, but Rurik didn't think so. That kid was a natural freak.
"Don't be a fool," Kaspar said sharply. "Vadim's too young."
The kid hissed at Kaspar. He swayed, and Rurik had a sudden vision of what the kid could become. . . . The pupils in his eyes were pointed from top to bottom, his smooth skin gleamed as if covered by nail polish, and the teeth in that red mouth were pointed like a vampire's ... or a rattlesnake's.
Kaspar snapped his fingers at the kid. "Stop it! Alek, we don't have time for that shit. We've got to get this done before someone comes to check the tomb."
Alek stopped swaying.
"If anybody catches us, it'll be a damned mess," Kaspar added.
"Okay. But don't jeer at my brother, or he'll get you." Alek took his charge and leaned down to set it.
When Kaspar was sure Alek paid him no heed, he turned his back and used his handkerchief to wipe his forehead.
Rurik felt like doing the same thing. Varinskis were birds of prey or wolves or panthers. Never snakes. Never something that slithered on the ground and killed by poison. What
"Uncle Ivan never has liked Boris," the leader said. "He's baiting him."
The kid shrugged uneasily. "Yeah. I wish I believed that."
"So what did he say?" one of the other guys asked.
"Uncle Ivan told Boris the deal with the devil is breaking apart, that unless the Varinskis get their shit together and kill that guy who married the Gypsy—"
"Konstantine," the leader said.
"Yeah, Konstantine. If the Varinskis didn't kill Konstantine and his whelps and the bitch he married, the Varinskis would become a laughingstock and the pact would be broken. The whole thing gave me the creeps."
The story gave Rurik the creeps, too. He'd assumed his mother's vision was an isolated incident, and without considering it, he'd figured some benevolent force had worked through her. The vision had warned his family of trouble, instructed them about how to break the pact with the devil.
Now it sounded as if one of the Varinskis had had a similar vision telling Boris to destroy Konstantine and his family—or else.
Shit
"So what has this place got to do with it?" The guy with the bag pulled it open. He tossed a round metal disk to each of the others.
"Uncle Ivan said there was an icon, some kind of holy thing, that we had to find." The kid caught a disk and attached it to a pillar. "I guess the icon's here, and we're going to blast it to smithereens."
Rurik, who'd been concentrating on eavesdropping, realized that his killer cousins . . . were the demolition team.
No wonder they didn't care if someone hid in here. They were going to blow the tomb, and possibly destroy the icon, his father's chance for salvation and ... oh, God, would Tasya survive?
"You knew Konstantine, didn't you, Kaspar?" the kid asked.
"I knew him," the leader said.
"Is it true he was the biggest, best boss we ever had, and Boris was afraid of him?" The three subordinates turned to Kaspar and waited for the answer.
"He wasn't the biggest, but he was smart. Wily. When he fought, he always won. He had great strategies, and when he was in charge, the Varinskis were the greatest power in the world." Kaspar spit on the ground. "Not like now." The team was quiet, setting the charges. Rurik didn't dare move. The icon . . . and Tasya. Would he lose them both?
The kid said, "Boris better do something soon, or he's going down."
"Did you overhear that, too?" Kaspar mocked. "Boris is my father, but Vadim is my brother. Vadim has my loyalty, and I promise, he's the next boss." The kid smiled, and turned his head toward the sunlight. Rurik jumped.
His lips were colored red; his cheeks were equally bright; his eyes were slanted. Maybe he wore makeup so he could look like that, but Rurik didn't think so. That kid was a natural freak.
"Don't be a fool," Kaspar said sharply. "Vadim's too young."
The kid hissed at Kaspar. He swayed, and Rurik had a sudden vision of what the kid could become. . . . The pupils in his eyes were pointed from top to bottom, his smooth skin gleamed as if covered by nail polish, and the teeth in that red mouth were pointed like a vampire's ... or a rattlesnake's.
Kaspar snapped his fingers at the kid. "Stop it! Alek, we don't have time for that shit. We've got to get this done before someone comes to check the tomb."
Alek stopped swaying.
"If anybody catches us, it'll be a damned mess," Kaspar added.
"Okay. But don't jeer at my brother, or he'll get you." Alek took his charge and leaned down to set it.
When Kaspar was sure Alek paid him no heed, he turned his back and used his handkerchief to wipe his forehead.
Rurik felt like doing the same thing. Varinskis were birds of prey or wolves or panthers. Never snakes. Never something that slithered on the ground and killed by poison. What
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