“Great, I need him to take me back to the house quickly. I need my bag from there so I can get to work on these guns.”
“Um…” Sven seemed to hesitate and I knew that I needed to sell my case quickly.
“Seriously, as soon as I’m back I can draw sigils on these babies and then you guys will be good to go.”
“Sigils?”
“Yes.” I smiled reassuringly. “Don’t worry - your buyers won’t be able to see them, but it will protect the Bratva from having their own guns turned against them.”
Sven’s eyes lit up with understanding, and before he could question me further, I was out the door, sliding into the black Cadillac that hummed next to the pavement.
The trip was seamless with the driver following my directions without any hesitation or questioning. By the time I returned to the warehouse with my blush briefcase in hand, Dimitri loomed in the entrance, no doubt doing his own reconnaissance about where I was and what I was up to. I refused to cower in his presence - because I was a Witch first - had been before everything changed between us.
Dimitri eyed my briefcase while I steeled my spine and walked past him, stepping into the warehouse once more. Thankfully, he didn’t say anything, but he did linger - watching everything I did. Awareness trickled over me beneath his gaze, and I was reminded of the early days of our relationship, when he would watch me work. His relentless need to control was going to drive me mad.
Sven pushed one of the crates towards me, and although I felt Dimitri’s gaze skate across me, I refused to look up at him - refused to give into the powerplay for dominance. Instead, I sat down in a crossed legged position and began pulling guns from the crate, tracing my hands over the black ridged texture of the handle. I wasn’t a gun expert, but I was certain that these were all AKs.
“They’re all empty.” Sven spoke directly to Dimitri, as if he needed appeasing somehow.
“Of course.” Dimitri’s voice was gruff and low, but I ignored it - ignored him as I popped open the briefcase beside me, pulling out a jar of salt water. I liked being prepared so I had already cast a candle spell over the water for protection purposes.
Dimitri and Sven stood in silence as I dipped a paintbrush into the jar and began tracing out sigils that only I could see on the guns. We had three crates to get through - because only three crates were scheduled for delivery, but if it meant that these guns couldn’t be used against Dimitri and his men, then it was worth it.
Each sigil I traced was filled with thoughts of protection - my intention being on the protection of Dimitri and his men. I knew it was absurd to place a protection sigil on a gun - because guns were weapons molded with the very intention of inflicting violence, but the least I could do was ensure that whoever they were sold to, didn’t turn their weapons back onto the Bratva. Eli’s words from the night before weighed heavily on me, and despite the uncomfortable setting, I had realized that I had done very little to protect Dimitri’s men. Dimitri? Of course. Arlo? I had done all that I could. But I had done nothing for his men, and I could no longer sit there idly, pretending that I was unaffected - that I somehow didn’t have a stake in all this.
By the time I was repacking the third box, I noted that both Sven and Dimitri had pulled up some folding chairs and sat a few feet away from me. Dimitri flipped through a stapled contract, his gaze scanning the document ruthlessly, while Sven whiled away his time on his phone.
“We’re so blessed to have you doing this for us.” Sven gushed as I packed the last gun back into the crate, and I had to stop myself from rolling my eyes at his use of that word. Blessed. They were blessed to have me. The guy I was sleeping with would be blessed. The children would be blessed. The dead would be blessed.
It made me want to rage, because did he truly not understand? I belonged to the Tarot Club and Dimitri was my client.
“Just doing what Dimitri pays me for,” I smiled reassuringly. I stretched my body upwards, the blood flow suddenly igniting feeling back into my body as I walked towards the little kitchen at the back. I needed to clean my utensils before I packed them away, and some distance from Dimitri and his guns would do me some good.
I took two steps into the kitchen before Dimitri pinned me against the wall. My blood shouldn't ignite at the feel of his hands on my waist, not when his gaze was lit with fury, but my body was a traitorous thing that seemed to want to listen only to Dimitri.
“I do not pay you to draw sigils on my guns.”
His voice vibrated with anger, and my protest caught in my throat as he snaked his free hand around my neck.
“I do not pay you to fuck me.”
His words were more growl than anything else, but I understood what he said.
“I pay you because that was what was arranged with your Club, but it has nothing to do with this. You are my Vedman.”
I held still beneath the force of him.
“Do you understand?”
Did I understand? I wasn’t sure, but I nodded anyway.
“Good.” The warmth of Dimitri’s tongue set fire to my bones as he licked the column of my neck - in possession - in ownership, and then suddenly he released me.
“I will see you at home.”
And just like that, I was dismissed. My emotions felt adrift. I still didn’t know where I stood or what my place exactly was here, and now I was once more going back towards Dimitri’s home.