Thank you to my husband, whose birthday it is today, who let me into his world one September in Chicago and told me I could stay. Thank you for changing my life, and for giving me one. Thank you for teaching me about time, and for loving my mind enough that I could learn to love it, too. If one day I have found the right words, know that I couldn’t have managed it without you.
To you, my fellow mortals with your gorgeous little fractures: your crazy is your magic. Your wildness is what makes you. Resilience is your talent. Burn, but don’t burn out. As always, it has been my honor to put these words down for you. I hope you enjoyed the story, and above all else, I hope it brought you something true.
xx, Olivie
Keep reading for an excerpt of Olivie Blake’s
ONE FOR MY ENEMY
THE CHARACTERS
THE FEDOROVS
KOSCHEI the DEATHLESS, sometimes called Lazar, the Fedorov family patriarch, DIMITRI, called Dima, the eldest of the Fedorov brothers,
ROMAN, called Roma or Romik, the second of the Fedorov brothers, LEV, sometimes called Levka or Solnyshko, the youngest of the Fedorov brothers.
THE ANTONOVAS
BABA YAGA, sometimes called Marya, the Antonova family matriarch, MARYA, named for her mother and called Masha or sometimes Mashenka, the eldest of the Antonova sisters, EKATERINA, called Katya, twin sister of Irina, together the second of the Antonova sisters, IRINA, sometimes Irka, twin sister of Ekaterina, together the second of the Antonova sisters, YELENA, called Lena or sometimes Lenochka, the fourth of the Antonova sisters, LILIYA, sometimes called Lilenka, the fifth of the Antonova sisters, GALINA, called Galya or sometimes Galinka, the sixth of the Antonova sisters, ALEXANDRA, exclusively called Sasha or sometimes Sashenka, the youngest of the Antonova sisters.
THE OTHERS
IVAN, the bodyguard of Marya Antonova,
ERIC TAYLOR, a classmate of Sasha Antonova,
LUKA, the son of Katya Antonova,
STAS MAKSIMOV, the husband of Marya Antonova,
the TAQRIAQSUIT, shadow creatures controlled by Koschei,
ANTONOV, the deceased husband of Baba Yaga,
BRYNMOR ATTAWAY, often called The Bridge, the half-fae informant of Marya Antonova, ANNA FEDOROV, the deceased wife of Koschei the Deathless,
RAPHAEL SANTOS, a property manager in Koschei’s employ,
JONATHAN MORONOE, an influential Borough witch from Brooklyn, and THE WITCHES’ BOROUGHS, the governing body of magical New York.
SCENE: New York City; New York; Now.
THE PROLOGUE
Many things are not what they appear to be. Some things, though, try harder.
Baba Yaga’s Artisan Apothecary was a small store in Lower Manhattan that had excellent （mostly female） Yelp reviews and an appealing, enticing storefront. The sign, itself a bit of a marvel in that it was not an elegantly back-lit sans serif, carried with it a fanciful sense of whimsy, not unlike the brightly-colored bath bombs and luxury serums inside. The words ‘Baba Yaga’ were written in sprawling script over the carved shape of a mortar and pestle, in an effort to mimic the Old World character herself.
In this case, to say the store was not what it appeared was an understatement.
I just love it here, one of the Yelp reviews exclaimed. The products are all wonderful. The store itself is small and its products change regularly, but all of them are excellent. Duane Reade has more if you’re looking for the typical drugstore products, but if you’re looking for the perfect handmade scented candle or a unique gift for a friend or coworker, this would be the place to go.
The hair and nails supplements made my pitiful strands twice as long in less than a year! one reviewer crooned. I swear, this place is magic!
Customer service is lovely, which is such a rarity in Manhattan, one reviewer contributed. I’ve never met the owner but her daughters （one or two of which are usually around to answer questions） are just the most beautiful and helpful young women you’ll ever meet.
The store is never very full, one reviewer commented blithely, which is odd, considering it seems to do fairly well …
This store is an absolute gem, said another, and a well-kept secret.
And it was a secret.
A secret within a secret, in fact.
Elsewhere, southeast of Yaga’s apothecary on Bowery, there was an antique furniture store called Koschei’s. This store, unlike Baba Yaga’s, was by appointment only.
The storefront always looks so cool, but the place is never open, one reviewer complained, giving the store three stars. On a whim, I tried calling to arrange a time to see one of the items in the window but couldn’t get in touch with anyone for weeks. Finally, a young guy （one of the owner’s sons, I believe） brought me in for about twenty minutes, but almost everything in the store was already reserved for private clients. That’s fine, obviously, but still, it would have been nice to know in advance. I fell in love with a small vintage chest but was told it wasn’t for sale.