Page 20 of Kazimir

He raised both brows this time, genuinely surprised. “The woman from earlier? Is she… fallen?”

“Either that, or some experiment gone awry. I want her monitored, but discreetly. No intimidation.”

He nodded. “You want her brought in?”

“Yes. For her own safety as much as ours. I’d asked Bohdan to make her a server. But on second thought, I want her contact with the patrons limited.”

He considered this. “You want her as an assistant, then.”

I hesitated. “For now.”

“I can make her my admin. Do you want the others to know?”

“She will be impossible to miss. If any of them ask for specifics, tell them it’s no business of theirs. She will have access to our schedules and private offices. You are to train her in procedures, but…” I caught myself before the words could escape, but they came anyway. “You are not to touch her. At all.”

There was a long pause. Nikolay’s eyes flickered, and I could see the thoughts: amusement, shock, calculation.

“As you wish, Father.” He said it quietly, and for the first time in years, I realized that he was afraid of me.

“Any questions?”

He shook his head respectfully.

I stood, signaling the meeting’s end. “Good. There will be a package for her in my private safe by morning. You are to see that it gets delivered to her apartment without incident.”

He nodded and left as silently as he’d come, the closing door clicking like a trigger pulled.

The hour before closing was my favorite, always had been. The music dimmed by a shade, the neon brights of the club warming to velvet, the air grown heavy with spent desire. I reviewed the numbers on my screen—bookings, staff rotations, a blip in the blood inventory that told me Bohdan’s new “crowd pleaser” donor was going to become a problem by Thursday.

“Amelia. My office, please.”

She arrived before the echo of her name faded, boots thudding against the hardwood as if she meant to claim territory with every step. Her hair was up tonight, twisted and speared with what appeared to be a pen repurposed as a hairpin. Ink smudged her hands and wrists, and there was a faint tang to her skin, a side effect of heavy spell-casting.

She gave a mock salute and dropped into the chair opposite me, slouching until she resembled a pile of bones in black cargo pants.

“You wanted me, Boss?”

“I want you to tell me how many layers of defense are on the club now.”

She squinted, lips twitching. “Seven and a half. I say ‘half’ because the leyline at the northeast corner keeps misbehaving, and every time I patch it, the energy rebounds in a way that makes my fillings ache.”

“Which means?” I pressed.

She wiggled her fingers. “Means a determined witch could slip a compulsion through if she knew exactly what to look for, but nobody’s going to set off a magical grenade in here without tripping the alarms. We’re safe.”

I nodded. “Good. And the wolves?”

Amelia’s smile flattened. “We picked up more chatter about Ryder. Apparently, some lone wolves in the Midwest have formed a coalition, and they’re sniffing around for leverage. I don’t like it.”

“Do you believe they’ll move on the city?”

“I think they’ll try to lure Ryder first. But if not—yeah, they’ll come here. And they’ll be desperate.”

She studied me, eyes narrowed. “You want me to set specific wards on the estate?”

“No. He’s not the primary target right now.” I allowed myself the faintest smile. “But there is someone else I need watched.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “The girl?”