Black Dog Short Stories IV by Rachel Neumeier

Author:Rachel Neumeier [Neumeier, Rachel]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-02-25T06:00:00+00:00

NOVAYA ZEMLYA

This story takes place about two months after the events of the two stories above.

“Definitely Georgia,” James said to the Dimilioc Master. “Not just once or twice. All summer, Sergei’s had his people operating in Georgia almost as often as Florida. He’s acting like that’s all his. South Carolina, almost as bad. Last week he had people as far north as Nashville. That’s when I finally decided to pull the plug.” He looked at Ethan, shrugging. “Sorry. I know this isn’t what you wanted to hear.”

It definitely wasn’t. Ethan didn’t have to say so. Letting Sergei and his people have Florida had been his idea. He’d known at the time Sergei Vasiliev would probably try to take more than he’d been offered. He just hadn’t thought the man would think he could get away with this much encroachment. Nashville. Christ.

This wasn’t Grayson’s fault. Ethan’s uncle had fully intended to deal with the new Russian house long before this. Other stuff had gotten in the way, and the Master had let himself be persuaded when Ethan said Let’s give Vasiliev time to find his feet. Well, now Sergei obviously had. The arrogant son of a bitch sure thought he didn’t have to worry much about Dimilioc. That made him and his people a hell of a big problem at a hell of a bad time.

They’d been negotiating all summer, at long distance. Pretty much in slow motion. A nice card, a polite request in the oldest style, very formal: Sergei Ilyich Vasiliev requests permission for his daughter Anya Sergeevna Vasiliev to visit Dimilioc, etc., etc., all the niceties observed. Gold lettering on heavy, off-white paper, like they’d all gone back twenty years, to a time when powerful black dog houses drew up detailed family trees and negotiated political matches with utmost politeness and never a show of sharp teeth behind the smiles. Grayson had sent back equally polite responses, noncommittal but willing to entertain the idea. For playing hard to get, he’d gotten a second note, even more polite and deferential, this one written by hand. Then he’d let himself be persuaded to set a date for that visit. Ethan had been both personally nervous and officially pleased about the way that part seemed to be moving forward. And all the time, Sergei had been sending his people way north of Florida.

“Well,” Grayson said finally, “I think we can at least be certain neither Sergei nor any of his wolves had the slightest idea you were keeping an eye on them.” He shuffled through the papers James had laid on his desk, lists of places and dates, maps with little dotted lines and x’s that showed one encroachment after another. Laid them aside and tapped them into a neat pile on one side of his cluttered desk: one more problem the Master of Dimilioc was going to have to handle.

Ethan tried not to wince. He’d really hoped he’d gotten that problem handled himself.

James just shrugged. He could tamp down his shadow so thoroughly he was almost invisible to most other black dogs.

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