Tricks & Treats: A Wild Bunch Halloween Novella Read online

  Tricks & Treats

  London Miller

  LM Books LLC

  Praise for London Miller

  “London Miller writes with both complex emotion, high paced intensity and a diverse cast of misfits that you can't help falling in love with.”

  Bestselling Author, Mary Catherine Gebhard

  “This series continues to play out much like a chess game with all the players being moved around but with no known end …”

  Amazon Reviewer, Sandy

  “The way the Den of Mercenaries and Wild Bunch series are intricately woven into each other is impressive.”

  Edgy Reviews, Lily

  Copyright © 2019 by London Miller

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

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  Also by London Miller

  VOLKOV BRATVA

  In the Beginning

  Until the End

  The Final Hour

  Time Stood Still

  Valon: What Once Was

  Hidden Monsters

  The Morning

  DEN OF MERCENARIES

  Red.

  Celt.

  Nix.

  Calavera.

  Skorpion.

  Syn.

  Iris.

  THE KINGMAKER SAGA

  White Rabbit: The Rise

  White Rabbit: The Fall

  Black Swan

  Red Herring

  Dark Horse

  THE WILD BUNCH

  Crooks & Kings

  Shadows & Silence

  Saints & Thieves

  SEASONS OF BETRAYAL

  Where the Sun Hides

  Where the Snow Falls

  Where the Wind Whispers

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  A Sneak Peek At Saints & Thieves

  Newsletter

  I. Crooks & Kings

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  There was no place like home.

  Mariya Kuznetsov hadn't realized just how much she had missed her old city until she was in the backseat of the Uber, staring out the window at the orange tinted leaves that seemed as familiar to her as the highway she was riding on.

  Sure, she'd come back to Chicago once before, already, but that visit hadn’t just been rife with conflict, there had also been a chance she wouldn’t have the opportunity to leave again.

  It hadn’t mattered though. She had come back for one purpose only and that had been to ensure the man responsible for the pain her family had suffered was held responsible.

  Now? Now, there was nothing left to fear about coming home. There were no boogeymen hiding in the shadows waiting to strike the moment her guard was down. She no longer had to look over her shoulder every few minutes—didn't have to worry if her days were numbered.

  The man who used to haunt her every waking moment was dead and gone, thanks in large part to the man she loved and the truth she had guarded as fiercely as she had her own life.

  Now after running for so long, she could finally stop. And more importantly, when she’d received the call from her sister more than a week ago asking what her plans for the holiday were, she no longer had to think about all the reasons why it wasn’t a good idea to come to Chicago.

  The opposite actually. She had every reason in the world to come home now.

  But that didn't mean she wasn't still nervous. Things had changed, sure, but she didn’t know the sort of reception she would receive once she was actually back.

  And she had Christophe and his brothers to thank for that.

  Which reminded her that she had yet to return his phone call from earlier as she’d hurried through baggage claim and out the airport.

  He had probably already checked to see when her flight had landed and had undoubtedly tried to call her again.

  It felt weird not having Christophe with her, and if she had to guess, he probably felt the same. And it was with that thought in mind that she finally pulled out her phone.

  With only a few taps of her fingers, the messages started filtering in.

  Fang: Call me when you land.

  Fang: I'm bored already.

  Fang: Did that Russian ever improve his security? If I could get in within two mins, I give the avg bastard about ten.

  Thanatos: For fuck's sake, he's annoying as shit. Get back here so u can muzzle him.

  The last message made her smile because there was a fifty-fifty chance Thanatos was being serious. Christophe could get a little antsy when left on his own.

  She knew that firsthand.

  And truth be told, she missed him too. It didn’t matter that they lived together and spent most days in each other’s company.

  Now that they weren’t together, she felt his absence.

  But he’d been the one to encourage her to come on this trip when she’d told him about it—gave her the chance to reconnect with family she hadn’t seen in far too long.

  And now, here she was, pulling into the suburban neighborhood of Glencoe, driving past mansions that were bigger than the loft.

  She had her answer to Christophe’s question about security as soon as her Uber pulled into the cobblestone driveway, stopping at the gate. She also didn’t miss the curious glance her driver shot her as they waited.

  The light next to the security camera blinked twice before the front gates parted down the middle and allowed them entry.

  And it was like taking a breath of fresh air.

  She felt normal as she slipped out of the backseat. There was no fear. No anxiety.

  No worry.

  There was no better feeling than what she was feeling now.

  Borin, one of her grandfather’s men who used to guard his wing at the hospital, walked out to greet her. And though it had been quite a while since she was at odds with the family, Mariya still stiffened all the same at the sight of him.

  It didn’t help that he didn’t look particularly happy to see her, but she liked to think it wasn’t personal.

  His neutral expression remained in place as he offered her a nod in greeting before reaching for her bags.

  He didn’t give her much of a choice as he started carrying them to the door, and after a quick look around the long stretch of driveway, it became clear she wasn't the only guest at her sister’s home today.

  Which was fine.

  Everything was fine.

  It would be fine.

  She wasn't in trouble and she’d done nothing wrong … so why did she have the sudden desire to call Christophe just for a little reassurance? She knew him well enough to know he would make it to Chicago in record breaking time if she asked it of him.

  He was only one call away.

  But this was family—her family—she wasn't supposed to fear them.

  Closing her eyes, she reminded herself of that fact as she headed into the house behind Boris.

  The main floor was a flurry of activity. Maids cleaning, a few others she hadn't seen before carrying linens and trays. The special cleaning liquid her mother
liked to use when she was hosting a party scented the air, making Mariya wonder what she had just walked into.

  When she’d called about visiting, Klara hadn't mentioned she was hosting a party—especially not one involving the rest of the family.

  Mariya stood in the middle of the floor contemplating her next move when soft giggling made her turn, trying to find the source of it.

  A blur of pale blue tulle and glittering crystals darted past her, an exasperated teenager wearing something similar a few steps behind.

  Mariya remained unnoticed for all of two seconds before that blur hit her directly at the knees, small arms wrapping around her legs.

  “Yaya!”

  Anastasia was the spitting image of her mother now—same brown eyes with long lashes and long hair that was currently tied into a ballerina bun at the top of her head.

  “Little dushka, I’ve missed you.”

  And she had.

  She didn’t like to think about the fact that she’d missed so much of Ana’s life. Sure, she’d gotten a few stolen moments here and there, and Klara hadn't minded sending pictures whenever she could, but it wasn't the same as being there.

  Mariya bent to pick her up, hugging her close before turning to look at the girl who, she assumed, had been giving her ballet lessons.

  She looked familiar though Mariya couldn't immediately place her.

  She did, however, look grateful to no longer have to chase a toddler around.

  “I was thinking—Anastasia, you’re supposed to be upstairs.”

  If there was one voice that had her niece attempting to become invisible even as she giggled, it was Klara’s.

  Except, her sister couldn’t maintain her anger at her daughter any more than their mother had been able to with them.

  She tucked her face into Mariya’s shoulder, still laughing softly. And though Klara attempted to look stern, her expression melted as she fought a smile.

  “She probably saw me pull up,” Mariya suggested, though they both knew that was probably untrue.

  Besides, the little girl with the wide eyes certainly took after her mother.

  “And she’ll have plenty of time to ask you questions and spend time with you after her lessons.”

  Ana poured as she was retrieved from Klara’s arms and sent on her way, her lip poked out her entire journey back up the stairs.

  And then for the first time in what had been far too long, Mariya engulfed her sister in a tight embrace. It didn’t matter that they had gone ages without seeing each other or that they didn’t talk everyday, their bond had never faded. Not for a second.

  Gradually, Klara released her hold and stepped back. “How was your flight?”

  They spent the next twenty minutes just talking about any and everything—catching up on both the old and the new.

  “You’re probably exhausted,” Klara said glancing down at her watch as they hit a lag in the conversation.

  It was late, though Mariya wasn’t complaining, but getting settled would be nice and it would give her a chance to finally call Christophe.

  “It’s good to have you home,” Klara said warmly, meaning every word as they headed upstairs. “Even if it’s only for a few days.”

  “Where’s Akim?”

  Klara’s expression was telling. “Networking.”

  Ah, she knew what that meant.

  “Is that what’s going on around here?” Mariya asked, gesturing around them. “Seems rather busy for Halloween, no?”

  Despite their difference in age, Mariya had always been rather good at reading her sister’s expressions, especially when she wasn’t attempting to hide what she was thinking.

  So the moment Klara cringed, Mariya knew she wasn’t going to like her answer.

  “What? What is it?”

  “Okay, first, I don’t want you to freak out.”

  “Too late for that.”

  They reached a different room down the opposite end of the hallway from the bedroom where she’d stayed the last time Mariya was here.

  If she had to guess, the room had recently been redecorated to match the rest of the cool tones throughout the house.

  “What don’t you want me to freak out about?”

  Klara chewed on her lip, hesitated, then finally spilled. “We’re having family dinner.”

  Oh ... with the way she was acting, Mariya had feared it was something worse. It didn’t make sense for her to be freaking out over—

  “Wait ... family dinner or family dinner?”

  It only took a moment’s hesitation for her to know that this wasn’t simply a night with her sister and Akim, but rather an all out affair that she would now have to be a part of.

  Before, she’d had the excuse of not being in town to fall back on, but there was no avoiding it now that she was here.

  “You could have warned me,” Mariya said, already thinking of the millions of ways this could go wrong.

  “It’ll be fine!” Klara said a little too loudly. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

  That was exactly what she didn’t want to think about.

  But seeing as she didn’t have much of a choice now, it was better to suck it up and wrap her head around it now.

  Family dinner ...

  Yay.

  Relaxing back on the bed after a long day of catching up with her sister and hearing about everything that had happened since the last time she’d been back, Mariya reaches for her phone.

  It had barely rang once before a familiar, heartwarming voice spoke on the other end.

  “I’m useless without you.”

  Despite how disgruntled he’d been when they first met, she’d found Christophe had a way with words when he was inspired.

  “If it makes any difference,” she said rolling over to get more comfortable, “I wish you were here.”

  Because now, after the excitement of the day had finally faded, there was nothing she wanted more than to curl up beside him and tell him all about it.

  He made a soft sound beneath his breath, making her wonder what he was thinking, but before she could ask, he had a question of his own.

  Before she knew it, she was telling him everything about her day, from the flight, to her arrival, and finally, Klara’s news about the impromptu dinner.

  “But it’s family,” Mariya found herself saying. “It’s going to be fine.”

  “Yeah, we’ll make sure of that.”

  She didn’t understand his meaning, but she believed him all the same.

  Because Christophe meant what he said, and she believed him.

  Chapter 2

  The patriarch of the Kuznetsov family might have looked like someone's elderly grandfather on the surface, but his eyes betrayed him.

  There was a hardness to them—a wisdom cultivated after a long life of living the way a vor did. Some saw a hard, callous man capable of ruthless things, and despite his age, he still managed to spark fear in the much younger men around him.

  To Mariya, however, he was just dedushka.

  That wasn't to say she didn't have a healthy amount of fear of the man—she certainly did, especially in the time that followed her fleeing Chicago in the first place—but she also knew she couldn't blame him for who he was now. Her father, when he'd been alive, had told her stories about Alexey’s time in the gulag and how it ultimately had changed him into the being he was.

  They all had their stories to tell and crosses to bear, his were just a little darker.

  Mariya stepped off the elevator into the foyer of the penthouse apartment overlooking downtown Chicago. Very few people milled around the space beyond a couple of nurses in casual clothes and a few of Alexey’s security in jeans with their guns tucked into the waistbands.

  This too felt all too familiar, but unlike her father who had always tried to refrain from showing them too much of the other life he lived, Alexey had never shied away from it.

  He wanted them, as much as anyone, to know what the family was involved in
so they could act accordingly.

  Appearances, in that way, had always been important.

  She had only just rounded the corner when her dedushka walked out of his bedroom, wheeling a tank of oxygen behind him. Despite the new addition, he looked better than he had the last time she saw him.

  Since waking up from his coma, he'd put on a good number of pounds, his hair wasn't as thin—though more gray had taken over the remaining black—and his suit didn't hang off him the way it had before. Now, she could see the man he had once been before the whole terrible business.

  She could also see, when she looked close enough, who her father might have become had he been given the chance to grow old.

  Alexey’s dark eyes found her almost instantly, and though she had always thought her grandfather could be a bit cold, she was almost sure his gaze warmed at the sight of her. Perhaps the truth she had always been too afraid to reveal hadn't just helped her.

  "Moya prekrasnaya vnuchka—my beautiful granddaughter," he greeted, though despite his eyes, there was no softening that voice of his.

  She didn't hesitate in closing the distance between them, carefully wrapping her arms around him. He smelled of pastries and something she couldn't quite put her finger on, but she didn't mind it. If anything, it made her hug him longer.

  She could feel him chuckle as he patted her back, whispering affectionate words she couldn't quite make out. After a moment, she finally released him and took a step back, tucking her hair behind her ears.

  "It's good to finally have you home," he said, gesturing for her to follow him over to the sofa.

  "I won't be here very long,” she said regrettably. “Just got the weekend.”