He starts spilling. Tanechka smiles over at Viktor. The information he’s giving up will help us destroy our enemy, Lazarus, aka Bloody Lazarus, and take back what’s ours—namely, the kingdom he stole from us when we were too young to understand.
But our real goal is Kiro. We’ve heard rumors that Lazarus has a lead on finding Kiro.
Lazarus wants to kill Kiro. Heneedsto kill Kiro.
It might seem strange that Lazarus, a powerful Albanian mafia kingpin, would need to kill a man he hasn’t seen for twenty years, but that’s the power of a prophecy for you.
I know, it’s the twenty-first century, but the Albanians are a superstitious bunch, and the prophecy holds that we brothers together will rule—me, Viktor, and our baby brother, Kiro. Enough people believe the prophecy that it matters—a lot.
It’s bad. We have to get to Kiro first.
Unfortunately, Lazarus has ten times the men we do, and ten times the resources.
The prophecy was given by an elderly crone who supposedly had the evil eye. She had blood-red fingernails that transfixed me as a child, and I can remember her pointing to baby Kiro in his crib and saying that nobody could beat the three of us. That together, we brothers would rule.
It was the week after Kiro was born. I was eight or nine, and Viktor was maybe two.
People have been trying to tear us apart ever since. Or, barring that, to kill at least one of us.
That would be Lazarus’s goal. He can never truly rule if all three of the Dragusha brothers are alive with the potential of uniting.
Viktor and I are hard as hell to kill. I doubt there are any guys left who are willing to try anymore. But where’s Kiro? He has no idea of any of this. No awareness of the firestorm with his name on it. He could be easy to kill.
A sitting duck.
Viktor and I found each other last year. Now we just need Kiro. Kiro’s more important than ruling or being invincible. But short of finding him, the fastest way to protect him is to take down Lazarus. Keep him hurting. Rattle every cage.
It’s about family.
A few months after the prophecy came down, Lazarus and his mentor slaughtered our parents in the nursery where we used to play. They carried off Viktor and Kiro, both screaming and crying.
I saw it all.
A family friend grabbed me and hid me before all this went down, but he wasn’t quite fast enough to get me out of the house. The best he could do was to pull me into a dark nursery nook and hold me tight while the bloodbath raged. While my brothers were taken. His arms were iron bands around me, his hand a cigar-scented seal over my mouth.
That was the last time I saw Kiro. A baby with big, bright eyes.
I make the sign again. Little boy. Ask about Kiro.
“What is this about Kiro Dragusha I hear?” Tanechka asks Charles. “Is it true Bloody Lazarus has found him? Perhaps if you tell me, perhaps I won’t make you a pincushion for mypika.” She moves her blade in a figure-eight, silver flashing in the light.
“Kiro Dragusha is dead,” Charles says. “Everyone knows.”
Viktor shoots me a glance. I shake my head grimly. Not true. I’d feel it if Kiro were dead.
“You have seen the body?” Tanechka asks.
“Not me, but people have.”
“Who?”
“Sabri, I think…”
I shake my head at Viktor. It’s bullshit. This guy doesn’t know.
We start pulling them out.
Tito comes up beside me. “It’s bad that everyone thinks he’s dead.”