Mr. Belden looked at me as the EMTs rushed Kylie’s body down the hall on a stretcher. “No detention,” he muttered, wrinkling his nose as if I was the worst thing ever smelled in his classroom. “You’ve been punished enough.”
* * *
Pietr served detention, and Max insisted on taking Amy and me out for coffee after school since I’d ditched the nasty sweatshirt and just looked like one more raving fan of the Junction Jackrabbits, wearing my school gym shirt in public. It was remarkably civilized of him—no drive-thru or Grabbit Mart coffee for us—he parked in front of the newest and most European of the cafés crowding Junction’s Main Street. As our small talk waned to nearly nothing, he caught my eye.
“Pietr, Alexi and I are going out tonight.”
“Oh.” My heart sank. “Tonight?” It was suddenly too soon, too frightening. I knew time was running out. I knew the CIA wasn’t cooperating. They’d keep Mother as long as she lived if it guaranteed them access—and a sense of control—over the Rusakovas. But when Wanda started trying to keep me from the Rusakova family, the wolves decided it was time to make a move against them. To get Mother out and consider a new strategy. Maybe a new location.
Dammit. With Cat cured, it left only two werewolves and one human against a nest of agents. I had strictly been told by my occasionally canine guardians I was not allowed to go.
I ran my straw along the bottom of my cup, sucking up the last bits of mocha and caramel. They didn’t taste nearly as sweet now I knew.
“How bad could it be, Jessie?” Amy punched my shoulder. “They’re going out for one night. In Junction. Pietr’s not looking to hook up with anyone but you.” She slid her finger around the inside of her cup to scrape off the last bits of whipped cream.
Max stared. I totally understood the title of the song “Hungry like the Wolf.”
Oblivious, Amy licked off her finger. “I mean—how much trouble can they possibly get into, in Junction?”
“Yeah,” Max said, his voice suddenly an octave lower. “How much trouble could I—we—how much trouble could we get into in a town this small?”
“With you at the wheel, too much.” I kicked him under the table for emphasis.
A brief stop at one of the half-dozen local pharmacies—seriously, how many did a town the size of Junction really need?—and the Rusakovas were again stocked with bandages, salves, and an assortment of painkillers and first-aid-related items.
Amy looked at Max as he filled the cart, and he shrugged, smiling. “You know Pietr has a predisposition for injury.”
Amy nodded, surely remembering the ATV ride when we were both so scared Pietr was dying. That had been well before I knew Pietr had basically been dying since he turned thirteen and normal things—like concussions and near-death experiences—meant little to his overall health.
I gawked. “I may know that, but I sure didn’t know you knew the word predisposition.”
“Not just a pretty face,” he snorted.
Amy grinned.
* * *
“So, if you guys are going out tonight, what are the girls going to do?” Amy asked.
“I’m staying over,” I mentioned.
Amy was ecstatic. “Sleepover!”
“We have strict rules about pillow fights,” Pietr stated.
“Da,” Max drawled. “No pillow fights unless the boys are present to watch.” A sly grin twisted his lips.
Amy shoved him, and Max stumbled back like her little push mattered. “We can watch a movie … play some games,” she suggested, shrugging a single shoulder. “It’ll be great.”
“Yeah, but it’s still a school night,” I pointed out. “I need to get this stupid heart project done for Bio, and we should all be asleep at a reasonable hour.” Hopefully I could get Amy squirreled away downstairs before the boys came back with Mother. Amy was a heavy sleeper.… It might just work.
I suddenly realized I didn’t know what was supposed to happen if the boys succeeded. Why hadn’t I been told?
Cat spoke up. “I may have to leave early in the morning—catch a flight, I hope.” She continued before either Amy or I could ask a flight to where? “So I might need one of you to handle breakfast.”
“Please,” Max agreed.
Cat rolled her eyes at him.
“Anyway, we’ll be out all night,” Pietr said.
“Imagine us at Denny’s,” Alexi suggested to us. “Wolfing down gigantic helpings of pancakes.”
“I will.” At least I’d try. It was far more pleasant than what they’d really be doing.
We ordered pizza. There was an air of celebration about things. And when the moment came for the boys to leave, I got twitchy. Terrified. I knew I couldn’t go. Knew I’d be a liability. I wasn’t stealthy, I wasn’t strong. I surely couldn’t handle getting shot. But the idea of sitting in the old Queen Anne house while they risked their lives to free their mother …
Standing on the front porch, Pietr brushed a strand of hair back from my cheek and tucked it behind my ear. His fingers trailed gently down the side of my face until he cradled my chin, peering into my eyes. His breath hot against my lips, my heart pumped so fast under his intense gaze I could no longer pick out individual heartbeats; it seemed to hum along. Pietr pressed his lips against mine, his hands tracing the curve of my neck and slipping over my arms and onto my back. He wrapped them around me, pulling me closer.
I slid my arms up and around his neck, closing my eyes and turning off my senses except those absorbing him.
I heard only Pietr’s breathing. I tasted only Pietr’s lips. I smelled only Pietr’s wild woodsy scent. And I felt—I felt … Pietr’s chest rising and falling against me. Pietr’s arms like hot steel bands squeezing me close. Pietr’s lips racing along my jawline and pausing by my ear. He filled my head with his words: “There is so little time. We need to make every moment count.”
My fingers twined into the dark hair curling slightly at the nape of his neck and his breathing grew ragged. For the moment there was only us. “Easy,” he whispered. “Jess, easy.” I saw the fire crawl up in the depths of his eyes.
“I’m scared.”
“Don’t be,” he commanded. “I can’t worry about you tonight—I need to focus.”
“Of course. Don’t worry about me. But—”
“What?” he whispered, eyebrows drawing together as he looked down at me.
“Come back to me, Pietr. In one piece.”
“As you wish.” He crushed me to him, reminding me of the power he kept hidden beneath a surprisingly human-seeming skin. He covered my mouth with his and kissed me with his eyes open so I could see the slow burn I’d started.
I held on to him, fingers knotting in his shirt, sneakers climbing on to the top of his. “I’ll do my best, Jess,” he promised. “For you, I always do my best.”
Alexi grabbed him, shoving him toward the car, already running in the driveway. “Come on, Max!”
Max hesitated for a moment on the porch. He looked at Amy. She met his gaze, undaunted, and answered his unspoken question. “I don’t kiss somebody who’s looking to kiss anyone but me.”
He didn’t even blink but grabbed her, dipped her, and kissed her until he’d guaranteed her knees would quake.
“Seriously?” she asked when she’d caught her breath. “You’re going out, but—you’re going out…?”
“What sort of reputation do I have around here?” he muttered, watching Amy’s expression from half-closed eyes.
“A well-earned one,” I answered.
“Yee-aaah.”
“Go. They’re waiting for you.”
He did, bounding down the steps and leaping into the car.
They sped away, and we turned back to the house. A house that felt oddly vacant without their wild energy.
* * *
I dropped my hand of cards when I heard the car in the drive. Too soon, I thought. I saw the same words—the fear—etch across Cat’s forehead.
“What is it?”
Cat and I looked at each other, then at Amy. We’d imagined a different time line. We thought she’d be asleep when the boys rolled back in, successfully freeing Mother.
But, now … she was awake and aware.
We lunged for the door, Cat’s fingers closing on the knob an instant before mine. Back in the dining room our chairs clattered to the floor. Cat looked at me, eyes wide, and sucked down a ragged breath. She flung the door open, gasped, and tore down the walkway.
I stood frozen in the doorway.
“What’s going on, Jessie?” Amy asked from behind me. “You’ve lied a lot since your mom died. And I get it. The truth sucks most days. But—”
I felt the change in the air as Amy turned to look the way Cat had run.
Between us, the words died, strangled in our throats.
In the thin starlight I barely made out the silhouettes limping toward us. Two figures half-dragged, half-carried one between them, and Cat, the smallest, dashed around the edge of the damaged trio, speaking Russian in low and urgent tones.
“You should head to your dad’s tonight.”
“Hell, no. Tell me what’s…”
I rounded on her, my eyes starting to sting as tears threatened. “If you won’t go, at least get out of my way.” I edged her farther inside as they climbed the steps and were bathed in the soft glow thrown by the porch’s single bulb.
Alexi’s weary face was smeared with blood, his shirt torn and spattered with red. Pietr was worse. A gash across his face marked a graze by a bullet. His shirt was ragged, the holes that tattered it edged in crimson. There was blood. Lots of blood. I reached for him even as I realized he wasn’t the worst. He, at least, was walking.
Max, though—Max was a different story.
“Holy shit…”
“Inside,” I ordered Amy.
She scrambled to obey.
“Phone down.” It was all the reminder she needed that the Rusakovas did not dial 911.
She pocketed her cell as we pushed past. “What…?”
“Sometimes it’s better not to know, right?”
She nodded, swallowing the logic she’d spouted earlier.
Cat closed the door behind us, and together we eased Max onto the love seat in the sitting room. “I get tired of replacing furniture.” Cat’s voice wavered.
I reached beneath the marble-top table, brushing the wood with my fingers, remembering the bug I’d left. But I found nothing. Pietr smiled at me, a grim turn of his lips as blood trickled into one eye from another cut. Knowing the way Max ran his mouth, he’d removed the bug before the risk outweighed the benefit.
“You’re last on the list,” Cat informed Alexi. “Do we need to set a perimeter?”
“Nyet. They’ll be picking up pieces for a while.”
I didn’t realize Amy had left us until she dashed back into the room, carrying an assortment of bandages and ointments.
“Good girl,” Alexi congratulated her. “Now go home.”
Cat snatched the packages out of Amy’s hands and tore into them. “Pietr. You sit there and try not to bleed all over the upholstery. Max.” She stooped over him. “Max!” She slapped him, her hand cracking across his face.
His eyes pulled open as he fought for focus. “Sisterrr,” he croaked.
“Wake up, idiot! I need to know where every bullet landed. Your body’s trying to seal. And I’d bet they’ve spiked the ammo.”
“Da,” he agreed groggily. “They’re not stupid. As long as they can get one of us, they’ll have what they want.”
“What the hell is he talking about?” Amy asked.
“Nothing,” Cat insisted. “He’s been hit on the head. Makes him even more stupid.”
“But…”
“Get me the Leatherman by the door,” Cat commanded. “Have you kept it sharp?” she asked Alexi.
“As a razor.”
“Horashow. We need markers, too. Otherwise we might lose one … Sharpies are in the drawer.”
Taking Pietr’s hand, I made him press the gauze tight to his own head wound while I found markers.
“You boys run the risk of not being so pretty,” Cat muttered as she swabbed the Leatherman’s blade with alcohol. “Or so alive.” She looked at me. “Get Pietr’s shirt off and circle each entry wound. Then look for exits.”
Nodding, I hesitated. How could I get his shirt off without hurting him more?
Cat’s gaze flicked to me and she ordered, “Tear it off,” as she focused once more on Max.
I grabbed the neckline of Pietr’s shirt and pulled, the sound so like Cat’s final transformation I froze. I fought to keep my eyes open, to view the wounds that marred Pietr’s beautiful body, so pocked with holes. Hand trembling, I circled each one.
Pietr snared my wrist, steadied me. “It’s not so bad, Jess,” he said, catching my eyes with his own.
My vision blurred, eyes filling with tears. “I’m the liar in our relationship. Don’t you start.”
He leaned back, watching through narrowed eyes as my hands stumbled across his body, circling the wounds already trying to close.
“I need to see your back.”
He grunted and rolled awkwardly over.
“Is it good or bad there’s one exit wound?” I asked.
He insisted, “It’s fine,” but the last word came out with a wheeze.
“Liar,” I protested.
“You do it!” Cat shrieked at Alexi. “Damn human hands—not steady at all.” Shaken, she stood by Max, the blade bloody in her hand.
Alexi reached up and took the knife, making soothing noises. “Circle the other wounds,” he whispered. “I’ll cut. I have more practice with my damn human hands.”
“Here.” Amy was beside me, kitchen knives in her hands, blades bright and stinking of alcohol. “Take them all out?”
“Yes, every single bullet.”
She nudged me. “Scoot over. Should we clean our hands?”
“I—” Regular infections didn’t seem to matter to werewolves, but what to tell Amy? At what point were lies more harmful than the truth? Probably always. “Just get the bullets out.”
“ ‘Lucy, you got some ’splainin’ to do,’ ” she said in her best Ricky Ricardo impression. She set a hand on Pietr’s stomach, nestling the tracing of the bullet hole between her spread index finger and thumb.
Pietr gasped when the knife dug in and I grabbed his hand.
“They heal so fast.…”
“Yeah.” No point denying it.
She reached her fingers into the hole, digging around for the bullet’s metal head.
Pietr writhed, face contorting, and I pulled my hand free of his so I could rest all my weight on him. My face inches from his, I stared down into his glinting eyes, ignoring the pinch of pain in his features and the way Amy apologized each time she withdrew another bullet’s head from Pietr’s rapidly healing flesh.
Instead, I kept my best smile pasted across my lips and told him about the things we’d do when winter arrived. I promised snowball battles, sled races, and icicle sword fights ending with hours wrapped up together by a roaring fire, sipping tea and hot chocolate. And the whole time I talked, my heart ached, not knowing if he’d live to let me keep a single promise.
By the time Amy got to the last bullet, the wound was completely sealed, the skin smooth and soft as a newborn’s.
Beside us, Alexi was cleaning up Max and himself. Cat was still and silent in the shadows, a tumult of emotion washing over her face.
“Are you sure there was a bullet there?” Amy asked, running a finger over the perfect flesh.
“I only circled bullet holes.”
“And this one didn’t have an exit?” She tapped his chest with the knife’s handle.
Pietr had fallen into an uneasy sleep, my hand again in his, his unnaturally strong body exhausted.
“No. I’m sure something’s there.”
Max began to snore. Alexi gathered up the chunks of flesh. “Better burn these,
” he suggested to Cat. “Too good a sample for them to add to their collection.”
She nodded, mute, and followed him out of the sitting room.
When Pietr convulsed, I jumped, crying in pain as his hand crushed mine. His eyes were wide and wild—unseeing—red flaring like wildfire. “Oouut!” he screamed. “Get it ouuut—”
“Shit!” Amy shrieked, losing her grip on the knife.
Pietr clawed at his chest, at the negligible circle of Sharpie marking his sealed wound. Blind with pain, he thrashed and howled, hands raking across his skin.
“Max!” I bellowed.
He was on Pietr in a heartbeat, taking him to the floor and pinning his arms over his head.
Pietr kicked out, his foot connecting with Amy’s head. She crumpled where she stood, the knife she’d just retrieved clattering out of her grip. Alexi and Cat jumped on Pietr’s legs, weighting them down.
Frozen in shock as he writhed, I watched all my promises to Pietr evaporating into nothing but worthless words.
“One’s still in!” Cat growled. “Cut it out, Jessie!”
Gasping, I fell onto Pietr’s chest, straddling him, digging the knife into his skin. “I can’t—” I sobbed. “The rib—it’s grown back—it’s blocking my knife!”
“Hell!” Max snapped, adjusting his position and keeping Pietr’s arms down with his knees. He raised a fist and slammed it down on Pietr’s rib cage. Bone cracked beneath his assault, and foam speckled Pietr’s gaping mouth.
“Now cut!”
I stabbed the knife in and pulled free a plug of flesh and gore, sweeping the wound with my fingers until I found the bullet. With a grunt I tore it loose, holding it above Pietr’s prone body like the grimmest of prizes. It sizzled, burning the bits of flesh and blood that still clung to it.
Alexi snatched it from me. “Spiked. As if the genetic time bomb in them isn’t enough.”
Pietr stilled beneath me, his face taut with pain, his eyes closed, breathing finally steady. I brushed the hair, soaked with sweat, out of his eyes. I kissed him, gently, not caring that my lips came back tainted with sweat and blood.
Secrets and Shadows Page 25