The Alchemist’s Inheritance

The air was a blade, slicing through our remaining resolve as we hauled the supplies onto the ATV. We didn't dare start the engine. In the suffocating silence of the Siberian night, the crunch of snow under our boots sounded like breaking glass. We pushed the heavy machine for a full mile, our breath hitching in frozen plumes, until Anya’s cabin was nothing more than a ghost in the rearview. Only then did I kick the engine over, the roar a defiant scream against the blizzard.

I drove in a numb, rhythmic trance, putting distance between us and the woman who had once saved my life. We were heading for the only person left on this side of the hemisphere I could trust: Valerie Eo-Theron.

Val was an enigma wrapped in a dark history, the great-great-granddaughter of Grigori Rasputin. She had left Russia years ago to escape the shadow of her family’s past, yet she possessed an uncanny, supernatural ability to sense when I was in trouble and where I was. No matter how deep I buried myself, Val always knew exactly where to show up and when to show up.

Forty miles in, I veered hard right, cutting across a frozen ridge for a few miles before killing the lights and the engine. The silence that rushed in was predatory.

"Check everything," I rasped, my voice cracking from the cold.

We tore into our belongings with desperate hands, looking for the tell-tale shimmer of a tracker and the feeling of cold metal where we couldn’t see the glimmer of metal. I watched Vic’s silhouette as he worked, and a cold pit formed in my stomach as I remembered the weight of Anya’s hands and the heat of her mouth and tongue on my pussy last night. I checked his gear first. There, tucked into the rugged tread of his left boot, was a micro-transmitter the size of a grain of rice.

The realization hit me like a physical blow.

"Vic, I am so sorry," I said, my voice trembling.

I didn't wait for his question. I stripped right there in the howling wind, the blizzard lashing at my bare skin until I was blue. Shivering violently, I reached down and placed two fingers inside of my pussy. I felt it—a cold, hard piece of metal lodged deep inside me, distinct from the familiar shape and feel of my IUD. I pulled it out, a tiny, silver disk slick with my pussy juices. I dropped it and ground it into the permafrost with my boot until it was dust.

I grabbed a bottle of water that hadn’t frozen yet from my bag and rinsed my fingers before frantically pulling my clothes back on.

"What the hell was that, Deppgrl?" Vic’s voice was like ice, his eyes fixed on the spot where I’d smashed the tracker to smithereens.

"Ya-Ya and I were lovers, a lifetime ago," I admitted, my teeth chattering so hard I could barely speak. "While you were napping, she ate my pussy for old time’s sake. She must have had the tracker on her tongue or in her mouth. She planted it inside my pussy when she was eating me."

Vic’s jaw tightened, his face a mask of stone in the moonlight. "I’ll check the ATV while you check the bags again, amore," he said stiffly.

He was livid, and I couldn't blame him. Yet, the irony wasn't lost on me; we were playing at a high-stakes game of survival….he was married to his wife yet he was fucking me and here in Russia with me than with her.

"Found another," I called out five minutes later. I’d found a second bug tucked into the clutch housing. Instead of smashing it, I found a sturdy twig near a patch of scrub brush and taped the tracker to it. I tossed the twig into a nearby stream—a freak occurrence of nature where the salt content or current kept the water moving despite the sub-zero temps.

"That should buy us a lead," I said, climbing back onto the seat. "Ready?"

"Yeah," he said as he got on behind me

"How fast does thing go?" I asked.

"About 80 to 85 miles per hour," Vic grinned.

"Hold on tight, Papa," I said, and I gunned the throttle. I turned back the way we came and headed to Val’s.

We pushed the machine to the breaking point for ninety minutes. By the time the wrought-iron gates of Val’s estate appeared, the ATV was coughing on fumes and our limbs felt like lead weights. I killed the engine, and the world went still.

The front door of the palatial, secluded house swung open, and Valerie came charging out into the snow, looking like a dark angel in a heavy fur cloak. She threw her arms around me before I could even stand up straight.

"Thank fuck you’re still alive, Marta!" she cried, squeezing the remaining air out of my lungs.

Vic preserved his distance behind me. "Marta?"

Val pulled back, looking at him as if he were a bug under a microscope. "Yeah, Marta. That’s her name."

"No," Vic stated firmly, his confusion turning to irritation. "It’s Deppgrl."

"Neither one is my legal name, okay?" I snapped, my exhaustion finally boiling over. "Can we move this inside?"

"But I’ve seen your birth certificate," Val countered, her brow furrowed.

"Your brother always called you Deppgrl," Vic added, looking at me as if I were a stranger.

"Both are lies," I said, shivering so hard I could barely stand. "I’m frozen to the bone and I would like to defrost."

I brushed past them into the warmth of the foyer. The house was a temple of luxury—mahogany, velvet, and the scent of expensive incense. I headed straight for the massive hearth in the Great Room. I first shed my windbreaker jacket and windbreaker pants then slowly taking off the rest of my clothes. Rushing to get undressed in a warmer place than outside could be dangerous. I then laid them out near the fire to dry.

I knew the danger of heating up too quickly—vasodilation could be a killer after extreme exposure. I grabbed a thin cashmere blanket from a nearby ottoman and sat on the rug twenty feet back from the fire, letting the ambient heat seep in slowly.

Val handed me the keys to the ATV and Vic disappeared into the guest bathroom to peel off his own frozen gear. A few minutes later, he emerged with a thick towel draped over his broad shoulders, his clothes bundled in his arms. He laid his out beside mine, the steam beginning to rise from the damp fabric as the fire roared in the background. We sat in a tense, heavy silence, the shadows of the fire flickering across our faces like the secrets we were still keeping.

Vic’s eyes were fixed on the embers, but his mind was clearly on the conversation from the porch. He looked over at me, his gaze intense. "So, if you’re not Marta and you’re not Deppgrl... what is your real legal name? Who am I actually sitting here with?"

I stared at the flames, feeling the exhaustion settle into my marrow. "I’m not telling you, Vic. Not tonight. Not ever."

He opened his mouth to protest, but Val held up a hand, cutting him off. "Lay off her, Vic. There’s a damn good reason why she won't tell either one of us. Names are weight. Names are anchors. In this life, in her life, the more people know your true name, the easier it is to bury you."

Vic sighed, leaning back and rubbing his face. He shifted his attention to Val, squinting as if trying to resolve a blurred image. "You look awfully familiar," he muttered, his voice trailing off. "I keep thinking I've seen your face before. Have we met?"

Val offered a small, haunting smile. "Not likely but people often say I have a familiar face. I’ve been told I look very much like my murdered great-great-grandfather."

Before Vic could ask who her great-great-grandfather was, I leaned over and told him that it was Grigori Rasputin.

Vic’s eyes grew wide, his pupils reflecting the orange flicker of the logs. He looked from me back to Val, his skepticism struggling with the gravity of the name. "Rasputin?" he echoed, his voice barely a breath. "Was he truly a mystic? All the stories say he could heal anyone, that he couldn't be killed."

I adjusted the blanket around my shoulders, feeling a shiver that had nothing to do with the cold. "He was a mix of a mystic and a man of religion," I whispered. "History likes the legends, the 'Mad Monk' stories. But Val and her family would state that he was simply a man of religion, a holy man who was misunderstood by the world that eventually murdered him."

I knew that Val had heard us, but she didn't say anything. She just stood there, staring into the flames as if she could see the 109 years of ghosts between her and the man she mourned—a man she was related to by blood but had never met. I watched the way the firelight played in her eyes and felt a prickle of unease. I knew that whatever skills Grigori had possessed, Val had some of them as well. She wasn't just a descendant; she was an inheritance.

Val broke the silence, her voice soft but practical. "Would you two like any tea or coffee?"

I looked at Vic, then back to her. "Black coffee for him and any green tea for me."

"I'll bring them out when they're ready," she said, disappearing into the kitchen.

As the sound of the kettle began to hiss in the distance, Vic and I scooched closer to the fire. The heat was beginning to bite back the numbness in my toes. Vic looked over, his eyes searching mine. "Did Anya mean anything to you last night?"

I didn't hesitate. "She didn't. And I don't regret her eating my pussy, even though she put a tracker in me."

Vic didn't have time to respond. The burner phone in my bag began to vibrate—a harsh, jagged sound against the quiet great room. I stood up, clutching the blanket, and went to retrieve it. It was Sera.

"I have information," Sera said the moment I answered. Her voice was taut. "Are you alone?"

"No," I said, catching Val’s shadow as she moved in the kitchen. "I’ll find some place private."

"Please do," Sera replied.

I kept the cashmere blanket pulled tight around my shoulders and headed down the dim hallway, away from the warmth of the fire. When I was sure I was out of earshot, I stopped. "Go ahead."

"Charles certainly did die a number of years ago," Sera said. "I have the proof. I also sent someone to secure DNA from the man pretending to be him. It didn't match. Whoever you were dealing with, it wasn't him."

My heart hammered against my ribs. "And the others?"

"Mimi freed herself thirteen hours after you and Vic left her," Sera continued. "She turned herself into our government. She’s being charged as a criminal—kidnapping and treason. I have disowned my own sister so I could keep protecting you."

"What about Anya?" I asked, my voice dropping.

"Anya overdosed on Tylenol."

I closed my eyes. Tylenol. That was the code. Anya had been killed by her own government. I was saddened by her death, but I felt nothing for the woman who betrayed me by planting trackers. In this world, survival was the only currency that mattered.

"One more thing," I said. "I’m at Val’s. Can I trust her?"

There was a pause on the other end of the line. "Is this Grigori's great-great-granddaughter?"

"Yes."

Sera’s voice was uncharacteristically certain. "Val is more trustworthy than I am. You're safe there."

"Thank you, Sera," I said, leaning my head against the cold wood of the wall.

"Stay there," she commanded, her voice softening just a fraction. "Warm up. Let Val take care of you. If either of you starts feeling sick or showing signs of frostbite, let her treat you. She knows what she's doing."

"I will," I promised. "Thank you again."

"Just stay alive," she said, and the line went dead.

I headed back to the great room.

Vic was already asleep on the floor, the exhaustion finally claiming him. I checked his pulse; it was steady and fine. Val looked up as I approached, her gaze searching. "Don’t you trust me?" she asked.

I let out a slow breath. "I do and I don't. It's hard to trust anyone right now."

Val nodded, a small, knowing smile touching her lips. "I understand. I am similar to you in that regard." She paused. "Are you hungry?"

"I am," I admitted.

"Would oatmeal with dark brown sugar and maple syrup be something you'd be interested in?"

I actually laughed. "It's one of my favorite foods. I’ll eat as much as you feed me."

"I'll make as much as you can eat," she promised, then gestured to the sleeping figure on the rug. "And what would Vic like?"

"Just more coffee, toast with peanut butter, bacon, eggs, and yogurt."

"I'll feed you first since you're awake," she decided. "It'll be faster. Once you're eating, I'll start on his."

It took her less than ten minutes to prep the oatmeal. I dug in, the sweetness of the maple syrup hitting my tongue. I loved the syrup here in Russia—it’s more natural, deeper in flavor than what was made back in my home country. While I was on my third bowl, she began cooking for Vic. By the time she was done with the bacon and eggs, I had polished off four bowls and Vic had begun to stir.

He sat up, blinking against the firelight, and took one look at me. He looked at Val and grinned. "Oh, you fed the oatmeal gremlin?"

Val laughed. "Yes, I did."

“Hey! I resemble that comment!”

Vic poured himself more coffee as she plated his food. He ate slowly, his eyes widening as he tried the toast. "This peanut butter," he muttered between bites. "Best I've ever had."

The quiet was broken by a sharp knock on the door. Val held up a hand. "Stay put. I'll get it."

She disappeared toward the foyer. Through the open door, I heard a familiar voice—her sister, Tati, named after the late last Grand Duchess Tatiana Nikolaevna.

"Here's her money," Tati told Val, her voice low but clear. "It's clean. Three others and I went over it multiple times."

Val thanked her, and a moment later, I heard the heavy thud of the front door closing as Tati left. Val walked back into the room, holding the envelope. She looked at me. "Do you want your money back?"

"No," I said, my voice steady. "It’s counterfeit."

Val paused, her brow furrowed in genuine confusion. "How could Tati and her colleagues not tell the difference? They are the best at what they do."

"Because I'm as good as you are, Val, if not better in certain areas like you are as good as me and if not better in other ways," I reminded her with a faint, knowing look. "I have my ways."

She nodded slowly, accepting the answer, and tossed the envelope into the roaring fireplace. I watched it burn, a small part of me feeling the weight of the lie. The money was real, and I knew the serial numbers had been recorded and shared. But it was a necessary deception to keep the trail cold.

After Vic finished his meal, he fell back into a light doze by the hearth. I took the opportunity to shower, scrub the grit from my skin, and change into some of my own clothes that I’d left here years ago. They fit like a second skin.

While I was upstairs, I found a cache of Mikhail's things that had been left. When I was back downstairs, I asked Val, "Would it be okay if Vic wore Mikhail’s clothes? He needs something clean and dry."

She turned, her expression tightening for a fraction of a second. "I thought I burned all of Mikhail's clothes the day he walked out on me," she said, her voice dropping an octave as she realized I'd found something. "I must have missed some."

She immediately went back to the room upstairs where I had left Mikhail's things. I went into the kitchen to make quick work of the breakfast dishes. When I was done, I headed back upstairs. Val was standing in the bedroom over a pile she had gathered from the armoires and closets.

I looked at the discarded pile on the floor—the last remnants of Mikhail. "Do you want me to take those and put them in the fireplace?"

"I would appreciate that," she said, sounding tired. "I think Vic would fit better in Gleb's clothes anyway."

I looked at her, surprised. "Yev’s grandson?"

Val nodded. "Yes. They should be just about his size."

“How is Gleb?” I asked then clarified. “The son.”

“He is doing well but we no longer talk,” she said. “He stands by his father in regards of that awful woman.”

I knew who she meant but I wouldn’t mention that name in this house nor think of it in her presence.

“I’m sorry, friend,” I said. “I’ll take these downstairs then send Vic to shower. Where do you want him to meet you?”

“Thank you,” she gave me a half smile. “In here is fine. Vic is a very attractive man - I see what you see in him and what he sees in you. It makes his wife jealous of you that you get prioritized over her but she won’t let go of him.”

“He’s a great man and an amazing lover, Val,” I said. “I know she won't let go of him. I wouldn’t if he were my husband. As she is jealous of me, I envy her for marriage to him. We both love him but we cannot fault each other of that.”

She nodded. I grabbed Mikhail’s things and headed downstairs to the great room. I tossed his stuff in the fireplace then woke up Vic.

“Go up the grand staircase, go past three of the five grandfather clocks on your left and then take that right,” I said. “Val is waiting for you in that room. She will show you what clothes you’ll be wearing after your shower. After you shower and get dressed, come on down.”

Vic kissed me on the cheek, nodded and left. Vic’s wife has been cheated on by him multiple times with multiple women including me. Vic can’t really cheat on me with her but I worry when he’s alone with attractive women….especially the ones with inherited gifts that Val has. I wondered a long time ago if Vic and I were a true couple, would he cheat on me like he currently does with his wife. The answer would be yes. Val, please leave him alone, I thought hoping she’d read my mind rather than ignore me. I love him and to some degree, he loves me too though not fully. My heart would break if you fucked him.

Seconds later, Val came downstairs. “You really love him, don’t you?” she asked.

“I do though I tried not to fall in love with him,” I said.

“Please know that he loves you too,” she said. “Very much so. He wishes he he could leave her but you know the story.”

“Sadly, I do,” I sighed.

“Please enjoy your time with him while you can,” she said. “One day, he will leave you so he can return to his wife and she will take him back.”

I nodded and sat down on the couch. I was exhausted and as much as I appreciate Val now, I didn’t trust her to be alone with me as I slept. She knew it as well so she tried her best to keep me awake with conversation. We agreed that Vic would take Gleb’s clothes and I would take my remaining clothes in a few days and we’d burn the stuff we were wearing tonight.

Vic came downstairs. He looked better but he looked worse for wear with tiredness.

“Which room would you like us to sleep in?” Vic asked as he yawned.

“The room next to the one you were in as you dressed,” Val said.

“Not that one,” I said. “We want a door that locks from the inside, not the outside.”

Val turned beat red.

“You don’t need to protect yourself from us,” Vic said. “You’re keeping us safe before we need to leave and make sure that we’re not ill. Locking us in a room tells me that you don’t trust us. If you don’t trust us, we can leave right now.”

“That’s fair,” she said. “It’s hard for me to trust others considering my family history and its hard for you two to trust others. How about the both of you sleep down here by the fire and I sleep upstairs?”

“That works,” I said. “Vic, we’re going to burn what we were wearing when we got here. People are looking for us and know what we’re wearing.”

“And when you guys leave in a few days, you will be taking one of my ATVs and I will keep this one until it’s time to give it back.”

Vic and I agreed. Val grabbed some water and headed to her room. I moved the couch cushions around and pulled the bed out. Thank fuck it was already made. As we got into the pull out bed, this was the first time that I was actually excited to fall asleep next to Vic. We fell asleep in seconds and didn’t wake up until noon the next day.

We got up, went to the bathroom upstairs to brush our teeth, a quick shower, got dressed and headed back downstairs. Since we were too tired to burn out clothes before going to bed, we checked the pockets before putting them on the embers. Vic put more wood on the burning clothes. In the kitchen there was a note from Val saying that she was off in storage to hide Vic’s ATV and to bring us one of hers. We ate a little something and we drank so much water due to not drinking enough yesterday. By the time Val returned, the kitchen was cleaned up and our clothes were officially burned.

“How did you guys sleep?” she asked.

“Like a rock,” Vic said. “I don’t think either of us moved a muscle. Thank you so much for letting us sleep so late.”

“You’re very welcome,” she said with a smile. “Don’t be afraid to get more sleep over the next few days. You’ve went through quite some stuff.”

She headed to her library on the second floor as we headed to the library on the first floor. Vic and I read for hours. After reading a few books, we fell asleep on the couch. An hour or so later, we woke up feeling a little more well rested but rather hungry so we headed downstairs to the kitchen. Val left a note stating if we were hungry, we can help ourselves. Vic started gathering chicken, broth, different seasonings and whatever else he could get his hands on to make chicken primavera while I made a large salad. I craved having fresh tomatoes in the salad but I made do without them. I found pitted kalamata olives, pimento stuffed green olives and black olives so I drained them, added the olives, sliced and added mushrooms, feta cheese, bacon and salami.

When we sat down to eat, Val came back inside. As she was taking off her heavy winter layers, we asked her if she would join us.

She hung her cloak on the peg, the damp fur smelling of pine and cold air. "I'd be honored," she said, her voice carrying a weary warmth. She pulled up a heavy mahogany chair, the wood creaking under her weight as she watched Vic plate the chicken primavera. "It smells divine, Vic. Better than anything I've managed to cook for myself in months."

We ate in a comfortable, domestic silence for a few minutes, the only sound the clinking of silverware against china. Val ate slowly, savoring the flavors, her eyes drifting toward the window where the Siberian night was already beginning to settle. "I've moved the ATV," she said eventually, setting her fork down. "It's under a tarp in the old stone shed. No one will find it there, even with thermal imaging. The stone is too thick."

"And the replacement?" Vic asked, his mouth full of chicken.

"In the garage, ready to go. It's faster than yours, and I've modified the exhaust so it’s quieter," she replied, then turned her gaze to me. "I also took the liberty of checking the perimeter sensors. There's been no movement within five miles, but that doesn't mean they aren't out there. They're smart, Marta. They know how to wait."

I nodded, the salad suddenly tasting like ash in my mouth. "We leave in forty-eight hours," I said firmly. "That gives us time to rest and for the trails to go a little colder."

Val reached across the table, her hand momentarily brushing mine. "Then let's make the most of it. There's more wine in the cellar, and I think we all deserve to forget about the world for a few more hours. Tomorrow, we can fake your death."