by R. J. Blain
The woman scowled at me but said nothing.
“Anything we should be aware of?”
“They use brands here, and the placement of the brands matter. I recommend everyone stick together when you arrive so there are no misunderstandings.”
“Understood. Will you be okay until we arrive?”
“Well, I better be, else Desmond will likely show the Russians why he is such a scary son of bitch, won’t he?”
“One of your companions speaks English, and you wanted to warn him or her. Why?”
I shrugged. “I’d rather there not be a bloodbath because Desmond was offended by the customs here.”
“Oh, I’m sure he’s going to be offended, but as long as they keep their brands to themselves and he finds no evidence of abuse, he’ll keep his offense to himself.”
“That leaves one last problem.”
“What now?” Dante demanded in an exasperated tone.
“There’s a wolf possibly killing people, and they haven’t caught or killed him yet. I’ve been working at a sawmill, and this guy used to work there. He’s already killed a bunch of people, so be careful.”
“I’ll let everyone know. Try not to get yourself kidnapped, killed, or do anything else I’ll regret, please. Also, thank you for calling me. I’m going to enjoy getting people herded to Russia. Make sure you eat enough.”
I sighed. “All right.” I spent a few minutes making sure he knew how to reach my cabin, warned him about Petra, and cautioned him to be careful. I returned the phone to Grigorij, and in Russian, I said, “Thank you, Grigorij Jakovlevich Maslov. If that cost you for the call, you’ll be repaid, just let me know how much I owe you.”
He scowled at me, but he nodded. “Who is this Desmond?”
“Charles Desmond. He is a man of influence.”
“Wawkalak?”
I turned to the ved’ma. “I don’t know how others from America would rank among you, but I will say this much. Branding any of them would be a very unwise idea. They would take offense to that in a rather extreme fashion. There is only so far they’ll respect your customs should they feel people have been branded without their consent. Consent is important to the Americans.”
“I see.” The ved’ma’s expression darkened. “The marks are how we warn others.”
“And in America, there is no need for such marks. I would think on that carefully and use it as an opportunity to learn. If there are those among you who did not wish to be branded, I would take care around Desmond and the other Americans.”
“Yet you tolerate it.”
As she disliked my Russian, I used it, although I tried my best to take care with my words. “Tolerate? I avoid it, and I will do what is necessary to protect myself.” I took a moment to make sure nobody listened in on us. “I choose to avoid becoming a wolf. That means nothing. I can when necessity demands it. I choose to avoid killing. That also means nothing. I will when necessity demands it. Don’t make either become necessary, ved’ma.”
I still hated how it had become necessary to kill Julie, something my wolf still grieved over.
While he appreciated the relationship between predator and prey, and he understood the concept of kill or be killed, needless death bothered him, which had cultivated my tendency to maim rather than kill.
I worried death would become a constant companion if we fully stepped into the world of the supernatural.
Like it or not, I’d find out soon enough.
True to her word, Alevtina Petrovna Volkova showed me the butchers who wouldn’t question if I bought more than a single man should, but habit and caution demanded I stick to my old methodology, although I would make more effort to spread how I shopped, hitting as many of the stores in the city as I could.
There weren’t many places in Russia, especially not compared to America, where well-stocked grocery stores could be found just about everywhere. The stores and butchers also often suffered from shortage problems, something I found to be strange.
When I’d started building my cabin, I’d run into problems like that, where I had the money but couldn’t find what I needed to buy, requiring a lengthy search. I wondered how much of the city’s food came from across the river in China, how much of it had been smuggled across, and how the locals tolerated the uncertainty so well.
Then again, did they have any other choice?
In Blagoveshchensk, the mayor ruled, the wise gave the politsiya a wide berth, and the rest of the pecking order made little sense to me, so I ignored it. Aware I would be dealing with an entire pack of cranky werewolves, I bought everything I could to bake a storm while I waited for their arrival, along with enough to eat myself into a coma. Russia had been good for my health, as had transforming and hunting across the country. I likely wasn’t up to the weight Desmond wanted me to be, but I’d lost my gaunt edge.
The ved’ma and their wawkalak continued to haunt the woods around my cabin, and I kept myself busy while waiting, finishing the construction on my fireplace and working on my next project, which involved transforming the interior into a rustic paradise and planning an extension.
A growl from Petra and the crunch of gravel warned me company had come calling, and after a few minutes, several vehicles joined in, which implied either Desmond and the rest of the Americans had come calling, or the ved’ma had opted to bring their wolves to deal with me once and for all.
My wolf did the equivalent of laugh and roll his eyes at me, and Petra continued to growl.
“Heel,” I ordered, and the wolf warbled a complaint, got up from her corner, and came to my side. I opened the door to witness the Anderson twins snarling at each other while a resigned Richard observed them. Richard’s wife bounced across my yard, hopped onto the porch, and flung herself at me.
As Richard would kill me if I allowed his wife to fall flat on her face, I caught her rather than step out of the way. Petra recoiled and tucked her tail. I set Nicolina back onto her feet. “Did you have any trouble getting here?”
“Only a little when we first arrived. The Russian witches came to greet us, and they had one of their Fenerec with them. Father saw the brand and flipped his lid over it, and that was after Dante tried to convince him not to flip his lid. There was some growling, but the Russian Fenerec convinced him that he had, in actuality, wanted to be branded like cattle. He seemed honest enough, so Father let it go.”
“Most don’t, but I warned the Russians to be careful about that.” I clicked my tongue at Petra, and the wolf returned to her spot beside me. “This is Petra. She was Bodwin’s, and she was shot. I couldn’t leave her, and I wasn’t going to kill her, either.”
“Father figured you had a good reason to vanish, although he was more worried you were depressed over having to kill somebody more than you had a wolf to care for.” Nicolina crouched so she was at Petra’s eye level. “She’s a nice Eurasian, too.” Richard’s mate took a few sniffs. “Older but in good health as far as I can tell. Richard made me research all the mundane wolf types so I can identify smaller Fenerec easily. Fenerec tend to be crossbreeds of various mundane wolf types.”
“Is she a wild wolf like your father sometimes talked about?”
“While I can understand why you would be worried about that, no. She’s not. She’s just a regular wolf. The scent markers are natural. I’m impressed she tolerates us so well, though.”
I sighed my relief I wouldn’t have to worry about what I’d read, although I was glad the book had convinced me to give the wolf a name. “She wasn’t really all that fond of me, and she doesn’t like to be petted all that much. But we’ve made it work. She’s good company.”
“Well, she’s a wolf, and she probably had the run of that mountain, so that makes sense. She heeled for you really well, though. We’ll have to get paperwork for her, but she can come home with you. I’ll have Father take care of it.” Nicolina bounced to her feet. “Father! Come meet Declan’s wolf. She’s better behaved than you are.”
Desmond
abandoned the bickering twins and came up on the porch. “What’s going on now?”
Nicolina pointed at Petra. “She belonged to Declan’s friend on the mountain. She was hurt during the firefight, so he rescued her. Alpha male with someone injured to attend to.” With a shrug, Nicolina turned her attention to the door and the talisman on it. “Those witches brought boxes upon boxes of those things and made us accept them, and I wanted to beat them with it. That’s a clever place to put it. We’re taking ours home to study them, because Amber says they are infused with some sort of witch magic. Everyone is edgy, so don’t worry about the snarling, Declan. Dante and Elliot are upset because their mates are back in America taking care of the children, and Father had to keep the other women home, else they’d take over Russia. They wanted to bring their families, and they get somewhat severe separation anxiety when they’re apart. They’ll be fine, so don’t worry about it.”
“That is not why I insisted, Nicolina,” Desmond muttered.
“It’s true, though. If we brought Sara? Russia would become hers, and she would change everything to suit her. Vicky would take over, but she would do so through buying the country. Mom would sucker you for another puppy because she wants another puppy. Evelyn would try to mother everybody, and if anyone looks at Dante wrong, she’d mother everyone after she finished painting with blood. I have no interest in Russia, which is why I’m here.”
“It’s the wrong time of year for puppies, Nicolina. Stop trying to goad me and your mother into giving you more siblings. Your brother is enough of a little devil. We don’t need to add more devils to the household right now.”
“You really should. Then my little brother will have a little sister to defend.”
“Now you’ve decided we’re having another daughter?”
“Absolutely.”
Desmond sighed. “You’re something else, Nicolina. Declan, are you all right? They didn’t try any of that branding nonsense with you, did they?”
“I’m fine. I made sure to dodge when they do their branding, but they basically view werewolves shifting at the full moon as evidence they’re going to go mad, and they brand the wolves they discover once a month. I’m sure some of them are willing participants, but let’s just say I live here to avoid it, and I have made a point of leaving the city before nightfall every day.”
“Smart. Good. Dante told me he’d warned you I’d be bringing you into my pack.”
Nicolina hopped off my porch and headed for the vehicles. “And that’s my cue to go check on Richard before he creates more trouble.”
I couldn’t tell if Richard ignored his wife or hadn’t heard her, but his lack of response spurred the woman into making a mad dash across the yard to pounce on him. Richard caught her with one arm, pinned her against him, and continued his conversation. “She seems rather excited.”
“She is under the influence of sugar.” Desmond sighed. “She survived the flight, so she celebrated with anything she could get her hands on that contained sugar. Add in the excess amount of flying we’ve done, and I give it ten minutes before she passes out, probably where she’s standing. I didn’t even bother suggesting she attempt any form of dignity, as she made it through all of the flights without a single whimper.”
“That sounds like an improvement.”
“For her, yes. Richard flew between Yellowknife and Seattle, and she fretted the entire flight, and then Dante flew the next leg of the trip with Richard as his co-pilot, and she fretted during that flight, too. Dante needed the airtime and practice, and Richard’s a good instructor. At that point, Nicolina fretted herself right into unconsciousness. Getting flights here on short notice is about impossible, so Richard flew his jet until the oceanic flight, which his bird isn’t rated for. A friend loaned us a larger jet, and then we took a smaller bird to here. We didn’t notify the locals we would be arriving by the airport instead of the train station until after we were here, got our vehicles, and had everything we needed to come find you. It limited their advantage.”
“The flight was otherwise uneventful?”
“My daughter’s fretting was the only event we needed. While she didn’t whimper, she fidgeted. It was otherwise quiet.” Desmond considered his daughter, who squirmed against her mate in an effort to escape him. Richard ignored her struggles while talking with Dante, Elliot, and Amber. “Dante informed me of his plan to abuse a loophole to allow Amber to undergo the ritual.”
I opened the door to my cabin and waited for Petra to retreat to her favorite corner with one of her bones before gesturing for Desmond to come inside. “Well, as the asshole who blurted a random proposal, it makes sense. I’m not familiar with the rules, however. Add in my ignorance about the ritual, and while I’m willing if she wants that, I have no idea how I can help.”
Desmond took off his shoes and explored my cabin. “You’ve done good work on this. How much of this did you build yourself?”
“All of it.” I pointed at my new fireplace. “That’s the most recent addition. Coffee? You’re out of luck if you want drip brewed or an espresso, but I make a good Turkish.”
“Serkili.”
“I didn’t take you to be the type to want coffee-flavored syrup.” Chuckling, I went to my stove and began the process of making us both some. “I’ll live dangerously today and try it that way. What’s involved with becoming part of your pack?”
“Usually, it would involve a fight, but it’s as simple as me biting you and working the pack bonds to bring you in. Since you don’t know how pack magic works, I expect it’ll be easy enough. Your wolf likely craves company, and you know I’ll provide that for you. Ideally, we’ll do this without a tussle, but if you’ve been stressed, you might end up taking an unexpected nap. Rogues who have been left alone for a long time are often overwhelmed, even when coming into a small pack. You don’t look as thin anymore, which is good. The others will wait until I’m finished before coming to say hello. Anthony and Lane are here, but they’re jet lagged. I thought about leaving them at the hotel we’re staying at, but I opted against it. I didn’t want to invite any trouble with the Russians.”
While Desmond poked around my cabin, giving Petra space and generally ignoring her, I made our coffees and poured them. “I’m not sure what’s going on here, but I have a bad feeling about it. The brands tipped me off something here is really weird, but the entire city is aware of witches and werewolves.”
Desmond’s brows furrowed, and he took his coffee and sipped at it. “And they’ve managed to dodge the Inquisition’s awareness of them the whole time, too. You would think someone would have spread word about it, especially as they brand their Fenerec.”
“They have different names. Wolves like me are called vucari. If a vucari doesn’t shift, they become some hound of heaven. I haven’t learned the name for them yet, but I have the feeling they think I’m that. I’ve been avoiding shifting during the full moon, but they’ve seen me a few times around the new moon.”
“And they’re superstitious, and you glow.”
“Right.”
“Your glow is blue-white, which would likely be viewed as a heavenly light to the particularly superstitious.” Desmond sighed and shook his head. “What are the other types?”
“It’s complicated, but the wawkalak are the favored wolves, and their brands are on the center of their forehead. Bodark and sumasshedshiy volk have their brands on their cheeks. Bodark have theirs on the left, and the sumasshedshiy volk have theirs on the right. The sumasshedshiy volk are the mad wolves, and the locals claim one of them is killing people. I’ve been avoiding the city since the wawkalak started haunting the woods and keeping a closer eye on me. Petra used to hunt in the woods nearby, but she stays close to my cabin now to avoid them.”
“We’d call the sumasshedshiy volk wild wolves in America. We don’t have distinctions like that otherwise beyond the roles within a pack. Do you know if they have the same roles?”
“I have no idea. I’d only met my first wo
lf here not long before I called Dante. I figured he’d be a good person to call about this.”
“You’re right. He talked to his brother first, and then he contacted me, and we started making plans. It’ll be tricky to bring your wolf back to America, but I heard my daughter promise you she could come, so it’ll happen. How have you gotten away with having her here?”
“I called her a Siberian husky, and the locals absolutely love Siberians, so I guess they believed what they expected rather than see there’s nothing really Siberian husky about her.”
“She’s a beautiful wolf, but she’s a wolf from her nose to the tip of her tail. What are you feeding her?”
“I take her on a hunt once a month usually, and I freeze the leftover meat, I hunt some, and I go to the butcher for the rest. She makes a good excuse to buy too much, as I take very good care of her. She needed some training, and she has a fairly classic husky personality. She seems smarter than the average dog, too. That’s why I was wondering if she’s a wild wolf.”
“I don’t think so. She looks like a wolf, smells like a wolf, and otherwise acts like a wolf, so she’s probably a wolf. I don’t smell any of the scent markers of a Fenerec. The Russians reek of it, so they’re definitely Fenerec, although they have a vastly different culture than we do.”
In a way, I was relieved, although I wondered why Bodwin and his wife had kept wolves as pets, though the animals had been fairly wild. I sipped at my coffee, wondering how I managed to find trouble no matter what I did. “You’re not angry?”
“According to my wife, I was somewhat surly, as I dislike when someone does something better than I do. It’s one of my few faults.” Desmond chuckled and shook his head. “No, I’m not angry with you. You had good reason to be skittish, and you did what you thought was best. Considering you had to take a shot I knew you didn’t want to have to make, I figured you needed space. As such, I took care of your programmer and your SEAL. I’ve settled both of them in Seattle, and Elliot has secured Lane from the military. We have him in a bodyguard role for the moment, but he’ll finish his time of service with the Inquisition, which will be more lucrative and safer for him.”