He who has a why to live can bear almost any how.

~~ Friedrich Nietzsch

Savannah, September 19, 2016

It's ridiculously easy. Dmitry thought to himself as he glanced around the party. A charming smile, the right kind of clothes, the right kind of accent and these idiots practically throw their valuables at me. I barely even need to use the dook.

Dmitry Kozlov was a handsome young man, with swarthy good looks and the kind of come-what-may attitude that can only be produced by living on the coast. He had the look of a Hollywood pirate with a wide charming smile and an old school charm.

People are different in the Deep South. They are both more and less prejudiced than anyone outside the south would believe. You have to live there, really live there, to understand. There are sections of the south where prejudice is acceptable. For example it's perfectly acceptable for Mrs. Fotheringay-Phipps to look down on Miss Donnelly or Ms Scarpelli for being "not one of us". In a polite and cultured way of course; let us not be crass. Having the wrong name was the kiss of death in certain circles. Of course if Miss Donnelly or Ms Scarpelli has enough money? Well, the story only looks different. The doors will open and the faces will all smile in welcome, but the invaders will have their hearts blessed. Which in the south is, in actuality, an invitation to do something anatomically impossible.

Miss Shaniqua Jones can be as hateful as she pleases and say whatever she wants. Miss Jane Croft is not afforded such a luxury. If Jane was to say half the things that Shaniqua said, she'd be labeled a racist and all but tarred and feathered. But such is life in the modern south. You learn to live with it. And if you're really smart you learn to use it.

Dmitry and Yvengny Kozlov are very, very smart. Smart enough to know that if you want to work with the old money, a nice WASP-y name was the first thing you needed. Then establish some bone fides as being discriminating and discreet. The brothers may not have had much money, or frankly any money, but they were dripping in talent. A particular type of artistic talent. Of course, being who they were helped "persuade" people they belonged there. The elite were all sheeple ripe for shearing. Every last one of their marks was a hypocrite. Well, okay, most of their marks were hypocrites. Some were simply ignorant.

So Brody and Dean Myers came to life. With degrees from SCAD (real ones) and all the right letters of introduction (totally fake), Brody and Dean rubbed shoulders with the well-heeled of Savannah and Charleston Society. They handled all the best antiques. From furniture to jewelry, the Myers moved anything. Of course for the "right" price they could be convinced to do favors. The request usually sounds something like this: "Old Uncle James is ga-ga and he sold off Great Grandmama's favorite pearl necklace because he lost at cards last week. Can you find it and get it back before people find out about Uncle James's gambling losses?"

In this town, like many others, anything is possible for a price. And the people at this party could meet his price. Many, many times over. The highest prices came for favors that started "I can't be seen to sell..." When you work with art & antiquities as dealers who are themselves master artisans...well. No one has to know. But, because under the Dean Myers facade of gentility Dmitry Kozlov trusts the gaje about as far as he can throw his grandfather's Vardo, Dean has everything in black and white. Some people would call it blackmail, Yvengny had called it insurance. Dmitry was inclined to agree.

"Dean," James Chambers, a man of fifty-odd years that Dean had done legitimate business with on several occasions to the benefit of both parties, called out in greeting to the younger man.

"James," Dean responded in a smooth deep voice, accepting Chambers's offered handshake. "How have you been enjoying the new credenza?"

"My wife was very pleased. She's after a new jewelry box. I told her if she wants a new jewelry box and new jewelry she's going to have to get rid of some of the old junk."

"Anything I should look at?" Dean asked casually. He wasn't really being casual, but it was never good to appear over eager.

"She has some things that might interest you. Mira's grandmother left her some gaudy things. She doesn't really like them, but she feels like she should keep them because they came from the old country," James snorted into his whiskey.

Softly, softly Dean thought to himself. He shrugged as if indifferent to the outcome. "That happens."

Chambers wanted to get rid of the jewelry and if his research was correct at least two of those pieces were enchanted. They did not belong in the hands of normals. The very first thing the Myers had done when setting up shop was make some...particular contacts. Parnormals of means that collected and secured "unique" valuables were especially important. He had a standing retainer from a researcher for "interesting" pieces. He has also heard from one of the single most frightening women he'd ever met. Lady Moira Ulfsson was possibly the most powerful being he'd ever seen. She had asked him to keep an eye out for anything with a certain magical signature. Apparently, the artificer in question was Fae. And while they were mostly protective talismans, there was a very specific piece she was looking for. She was worried about it being missing. It was a wide band with a wolf print instead of a gemstone. He sincerely hoped he never found it. If he never met a titled fae again, he would be grateful.

But back to Chambers and his wife's ugly hand me downs. Head in the game, son. Distraction makes you sloppy. Being sloppy gets you caught.

"You should have things like that appraised anyway. For the insurance companies if no other reason. If you decide you want us to look at it we can give you a good valuation." Dean had given a little push with his persuasive magic.

"Mmm. Not a bad idea." Chambers mused as he watched his young wife circulate. Men of a certain age and position in society were permitted and even expected to take a second wife who was much younger and almost obviously a social-climbing gold-digger. Mira Chambers (formerly Vandiver) was a former beauty pageant winner and in reality a truly nice woman. She spent a lot of time volunteering. She figured since she had money enough not to work and time to do so, she should donate her time and energy to causes she believed in that didn't always have the means to support the staff they required. She was also from a family that had their magic die out. The Vandivers had been Mageborns in Europe, but they had heavily intermarried with the normals once they emigrated and the last one with magic had been Old Mrs. Vandiver. The former owner of the jewelry in question.

"I'll talk to Mira about it. If she agrees you can come look them over and give us some numbers," Chambers agreed with the small compulsion.

"Think she'd be agreeable with leaving the jewelry with me a couple of days? That would give me time to do proper research and update the provenance and such. Also, it'll allow me to write up the estimates so you have documents for your insurance company," Dean asked with a considering look on his face as he gave another little push.

"I'm sure she'll agree," Chambers smiled as he watched his wife work the room. He was actually in love with his wife. The first Mrs. Chambers had been a convenient and smart career move. The second Mrs. Chambers had him wrapped around her little finger. The surprise was she was just as crazy for her husband and would do anything to keep him happy, too. It works out like that sometimes.

"Good," Dean agreed and smiled at Chambers. He actually liked the older man and he'd been the source of a lot of good business over the years. Chambers was one of those more-rare-than-they-should-be people he'd met in society. One that Dean really thought he could have been friends with. Dean had momentary qualm when he thought about the fact he was going to be stealing from this man. Then he thought about what happens when enchanted items stay in the hands of normals. They get found, usually by the worst possible person. He also consoled his twingeing conscious that Chambers would be receiving a visually identical piece of almost equal value.

Chambers looked at the younger man and groaned into his whiskey when he saw the mischievous look on Dean's face.

"So," Dean began not quite managing to hide his grin behind his own drink, "I saw your bumblebees didn't do so well."

"Yellow Jackets. At least we aren't slobbering dogs."

"Fair enough."

"Well, We can't all go to a school with a football team."

"Nope. We spent our money on stuff the students really needed."

"He says to the guy who graduated from one of the best Science and Technology schools in the country. We compete with MIT for talent."

"I can tell by the way your football team plays. All science and no heart."

The conversation was a replay of one they had nearly every party. Dean, while genuine in his appreciation for the Chambers and the kind of people they were, was not above using his host to appear deeply entrenched in conversation to keep the old women looking for a toy boy away. He got the feeling Chambers knew he did it and played along anyway.

Nice guy.

"Call me Monday to set a time to drop the jewelry off." Dean said a few hours later as he made his way out the door into the Savannah night.

"I won't forget," Chambers promised as Dean raised Mrs. Chambers hand to kiss her knuckles.

"Ma'am."

"Go on, you charmer." Mira Chambers laughed as she shooed him out the door.

"Yes, ma'am." Dean agreed. "Thank you again for a lovely evening."

Once he was in his car he connected his Bluetooth and called the one person he wanted to talk to that evening.

"Dima," A smooth southern accent greeted him happily. "You were almost too late. They've been waiting for you."

"I'm sorry, love. Are they still awake?" He sighed as he pulled into traffic and headed for the apartment he and Zhenya kept for business in Savannah.

"Like they would let me put them to bed without talking to their Daddy!" Crina laughed. "Did you at least do what you intend to?"

"Do you doubt me now, my lovely lily?"

"Never," She answered him softly with love warming her tones. "But I want to be sure the time I am sacrificing with you is being put to good use. Will you be home this weekend?"

"Yes, Zhenya and his brood are coming down, too. We heard that Luka didn't reenlist and he should be home soon. We want to set up something to welcome him home."

"Really? You must be happy. It's the first time he's come home since his sister's pomana, isn't it?" You could hear the laughter in her voice as the little voices in the back continued to get louder as they begged to speak to Dmitry. His wife and children were his world. Family is everything.

Dmitry's heart hurt. He hated keeping his family secret. He hated living away from his beautiful wife more nights than not. It wouldn't be forever. He had to remember that. They would be caught sooner or later and then he and Zhenya would move on. Where they would go he wasn't sure. He didn't really want to live in Europe. He was fond of getting ice in his cold drinks. He at least knew what he'd do for money. They were, by family trade, also jewelers. They made the love tokens for many of the mageborn Rom. The Kozlovs were also developing quite the name as designers in Europe under their real names.

"Daddy! DADDY!" Two small voices took over the conversation when Crina clicked on the speakerphone, excited and desperate to tell him about their day. The next few minutes was a confusing tangle of soccer games and baby doll dresses and the ridiculous stray cat that Juli had persuaded to live under their deck.

"Are you two being good for your mama? Did she get you ready for bed?"

"Yes, will you tell us one of the Paramitsha?" Juli demanded.

"Please!" Chimed in Donat.

"They love your stories, Dima." Crina laughed.

"Alright once you're settled in bed. I will tell you one story," he was cut off by cries of joy and running feet.

"It won't be much longer," Crina said in a oddly hollow voice. The hairs along Dmitry's arms stood on end. His wife had that special kind of magic that gave her impressions of the future.

Their branch of the Rom were pretty much the reason Gypsies had a bad name. They were fortune tellers, thieves, stealers of babies and had a culture steeped in tradition and magic. For centuries they were retrievers of objects that should not be in the hands of normals. They stole enchanted items from normals. The derision of everyone else in world was a small price to pay to protect everyone. Although in all honesty most of their kumpaniyi would be frank enough to admit they would do nothing if their own families weren't endangered as well.

Of course, when you had magic that allowed you to persuade anyone of anything, you had to be careful. They had to be taught to hold fast to certain morals. They couldn't let children with persuasion magic stay with normal families. That was a disaster waiting to happen. So if they couldn't get the children honestly, they stole them. Even normals knew the name of the last persuasion mageborn that wasn't found. He was Austrian and took Germany by storm. He had so many people under his spell and even the Rom suffered under his direction. Adolf Hitler was a household name for a reason. Children as young as three were taught to recognize persuasive magic in their playmates so it never happens again.

The seers among their people gave the benefit of their sight, helping as many as possible either prepare for the future or prevent them from throwing away happiness. It was a kindness they were often not given credit for. Crina's sight had never been wrong. If she said it wouldn't be long, he had a matter of months.

"What do you see, baby?" He whispered and closed his eyes as he pulled in a parking spot in front of his building. As long as he had his family at the end, anything else was acceptable. Even prison.

"Dook."

"Will it be safe for you and the children?" he asked real fear in his voice. Magic was never truly safe. Even for the users. Persuasive mages lost their minds if they didn't bleed some of the magic off. Magic demanded a price. A balance. It never gave without getting something back.

"Justice will come. She will give and she will take. But she is a fair and true seeing nemesis. Do not fear her." Crina's voice became even more hollow.

"I love you."

"I love you, too" Crina answered him her voice trembling slightly. "You promised a story."

"Are they ready?"

"Daddy, did you forget us?" Juli asked. Obviously, Crina had entered the kids' room. They had tried to put them in separate rooms but Juli had screamed the house down with nightmares the first two nights. She had to have her big brother in the same room. When asked what they were about, she said she saw a man. Her dreams had been filled with fighting and guns. She was dreaming of war. It had terrified them. As young as she was, she would only grow in strength.

"You want me to tell you a story, little one?" He chuckled as he put his car in park and settled back to tell one of the traditional Rom fairytales. "I will tell you."

The story flowed. He allowed his magic to infuse the air the words were made of. It was an easy, safe way to bleed off some of the extra magic. And it swirled around him as he told his children a bedtime story.

♂♂♀♂♂

Charleston, September 20, 2016

The cell buzzed on the table beside Yevgeny Kozlov and he blindly reached for it still half asleep. His wife shifted in her sleep as he answered the phone. It was late, somewhere after midnight, and only one person would bother him tonight.

"What's wrong, Dima?" Yvegny croaked into the phone as he gently rubbed his wife's shoulder to settle her back into sleep. She shifted her pregnant belly against him as she snuggled closer. She was due in just a few weeks and sleep was harder and harder to come by for her.

"I wasn't sure if I should tell you tonight or not," fretted the younger man. "When I called tonight...Crina spoke."

Yevgeny sucked in a sharp breath and was suddenly wide awake. He glanced at the time on his phone. "Just a second."

He rumbled soothing things to Alix as slipped out of bed and made his way to the kitchen and leaned against the counter. He held the phone to one ear and crossed the other arm over his chest. Unlike his brother who was lean like a swimmer or a runner and rakishly handsome, Yvegny had a more rugged build. He was still arresting in his good looks with black hair and blue eyes, but he was built more along the lines of a bear standing over six feet tall with broad shoulders and a perpetual five o'clock shadow.

"Alright, Dima. You woke me up. Now start from the beginning. What happened?"

"I called as I was leaving the Chambers party, it ran late and I almost missed getting to talk to Donnie and Juli. While the kids were getting into bed, Crina spoke."

"What did she say?"

"'It won't be much longer.'"

"Well, shit."

"That's not all she said."

"Dude," Yvegny dragged a hand down his face, "it's after midnight and Alix hasn't been sleeping well. She tells me it's easier to sleep when I'm home. I have to leave tomorrow, so get to the point so I can go back to bed."

"I'm sorry, man, but Ree really freaked me out. She said it won't be much longer. At first when I asked her what she saw all she said was 'dook'. Then Ree said justice was coming but that we shouldn't be afraid of her, like justice is a real person."

"Maybe she is," Yvegny said quietly rubbing his face and trying to think. "Maybe she is. It won't really make sense until it happens and you know it. Whatever, I need to get back to bed before Alix wakes up. I'll call in the morning. Get some sleep. Oh, before I forget again; I heard from Beebee today. Luka's done in two weeks. He should be home before October."

"Okay, we'll talk more about it tomorrow," Dmitry acknowledged still sounding worried. "What happens if we're caught? What if we can't get out and...Shit, man, the baby'll be here by Halloween and..." Yevgeny could see his brother pacing and scrubbing a hand through his hair in worry.

"We'll deal with it. Like we alway have. Even if we have to do some time for this, it's not like folks'll cut our families off. If nothing else, Luka will help them out. You know how he is and the Navy made it worse. Although, I think those gaje he served with gave him funny ideas."

"Yeah, but I can see his point about not wanting a family when he's an active duty SEAL. It's bad enough that I spend half my week away. Imagine months or years." Dmitry's voice dropped off as he realized that was exactly what he and his brother were facing. If they were caught.

If.

"Get some sleep. You've always been a drama queen when you're tired."

"Yeah. Night, Zhenya."

"Night."

Yevgeny stood in his kitchen a minute more.