Axe throwing.
Tatyana couldn’t stop her smile. “Rumi, what is my schedule tonight?”
Her secretary walked into the dressing room with a fat notebook in her hand. “You have another dress fitting at ten, and after that, Rudov has invited you and Kezia for a small party at his home in the city.”
“Lots of people?”
Rumi shook her head. “Other than Kezia, I believe it’s only Oleg’s family and a few close friends.”
“That will be a relief,” she muttered. At least if it was only Oleg’s family, they would understand how obstinate their knyaz was and wouldn’t have many questions.
Diana walked in with a garment bag draped over her arm. “I have a new dress for you to try on, and I want you to keep an open?—”
“No.” Tatyana cut her off.
She stared at her stylist, trying not to let the knowledge of Diana’s phone habits color her expression or her reaction. Was she a victim in this? Was Ivan using her? Blackmailing her? Or had she been lying to Tatyana all along?
She made an effort to soften her voice when she saw Diana’s wide eyes. “I’ll try it on later. An old friend has just left me a note to meet her, and I’d like to spend some time with her before the party tonight. I have not seen her in some time, so this is a priority for me.”
“Of… of course!” Diana’s cheeks were a little red. “Of course. I am happy to serve, Terrin Tatyana.”
“Thank you. Please reschedule my dress fitting and retrieve some clothing that will be suitable for axe throwing.”
The stylist blinked her eyes. “I don’t know what you wear to throw axes. Is there a dress code?”
Rumi chuckled. “Come along; I’ll show you. Anything comfortable will work. Think of it as athleisure. For vampires.”
Tatyana quickly sent a response back to Oksana through the house secretary and alerted her driver that she’d need a car to Oksana and Ludmila’s home on the outskirts of the city.
Half an hour later, she and Sándor were driving through the still-bustling streets of Saint Petersburg, heading south toward the small suburb of Pushkin where Oksana and Ludmila made their home.
“Who are these people?”
“Ludmila and Oksana.”
“Ludmila I know.”
“And Oksana is her mate.” She glanced at him. “She is a friend of mine. An old friend.”
“I see.”
“She gave me that beautiful axe that I carry at formal events.”
Sándor’s eyebrows went up. “The baltag?”
“Yes.” A year after her induction as terrin, Oksana sent her a custom-made axe in the style of the Carpathian Mountain shepherds. It had a narrow curved head with custom engraving and a long handle made of rosewood that was nearly as long as a walking stick.
With the leather blade guard in place, Tatyana could use it as such if she wanted, tucking the graceful axe-head near her elbow so that it appeared to be a very chic and eccentric accessory.
Just more lethal.
“That is an excellent axe,” Sándor muttered.
“It is.”
Clearly, knowing that they were going to the house of a vampire with exquisite taste in axes improved Sándor’s mood, because he seemed less cross.
“Sándor?”
