Of course, if she managed to fix the timeline, she would be taking that away from them again.
Crap.
Chapter Twelve
Two days later, Barbara and Babs were helping Liam to repaint the living room walls a soothing cream color when the sound of roaring engines made them drop their brushes and run outside.
A huge black Harley was just pulling into the yard, followed closely by a low-slung red Ducati and a shining white Yamaha. The three motorcycles fell silent as their riders dismounted. Or more properly, their Riders, since that was who rode them.
Back in the old days, the Black Rider, the Red Rider, and the White Rider, whose job it was to assist the Baba Yagas in whatever they might need, rode magical steeds whose speed and stamina far exceeded that of any ordinary horse. Like the Baba’s huts, which had transformed themselves to better suit the modern era, the Rider’s steeds had morphed into equally enchanted motorcycles. The Riders themselves, however, had remained largely unchanged.
Or in the case of Alexei, simply large.
The middle of the three half-brothers, sons of a Russian god and different mothers, Alexei was a giant bear of a man with coarse brown hair and a braided beard. He wore black leather that jangled with silver chains, and he grinned wildly as he picked Barbara up and swung her around as if she were Babs’ size.
When he finally put her down, the oldest brother, Gregori, gave her a dignified bow, his hands pressed together in front of his chest. As serene as Alexei was rowdy, Gregori had the slim build and easy gait of a martial arts master, and the long black hair and Fu Manchu mustache of the Russian steppes where he had been born. He wore a red leather jumpsuit that fit him like a second skin, and his hair was pulled back with a red leather thong.
Mikhail, the youngest of the three, bowed more deeply than Gregori had and then leaned forward to kiss Barbara’s hand, repeating the gallant gesture with little Babs. Tall, slim, and classically handsome, Mikhail’s blonde hair reached down to touch the shoulders of his pristine white silk shirt. “How wonderful it is to see you, Baba Yaga,” he said. “It has been too long.”
Barbara felt unaccustomed tears prick at her eyes. They all looked as attractive, confident, and dangerous as always, but with a subtle difference that marked the lack of the traumas that had beset them in her own timeline. Seeing them like this made her heart feel ten pounds lighter, despite the worries she still bore.
“It is good to see you all too,” she said in a quiet voice. “You have no idea how good.”
The sound of a throat being cleared reminded her that they had company. Liam had followed her and Babs out the door and was staring at the visitors with an expression that seemed to hold warring elements of awe, suspicion, and maybe even jealousy. Of course, she told herself, that might have been for the motorcycles.
“Ah, right. Liam, these are my friends Alexei, Mikhail, and Gregori. Boys, this is Liam. He’s helping me to fix up this house I just bought.”
Alexei marched up and shook Liam’s hand with his usual enthusiasm. Barbara hoped all Liam’s fingers still worked afterwards, since she needed him to finish the painting.
“Hello,” Alexei said, his Russian accent still the thickest of them all. “I don’t suppose you have beer?”
“Alexei, you oaf, where are your manners?” Mikhail said, reaching up to smack his brother on the head as he walked by. “Any friend of Baba—I mean, Barbara’s, is a friend of ours.”
“Of course, most of our friends usually have beer,” Alexei added helpfully.
“Please excuse him,” Gregori said, bowing to Liam as he had to Barbara. “He was raised in the woods by bears. It is a pleasure to meet you. Don’t let us keep you from your work.”
He walked back to Barbara. “You bought a house?” One feathery black eyebrow rose as he assessed the structure more thoroughly. “To be specific, you bought this house?”
“It is a long story,” she said, gesturing him and the other two toward the Airstream. “One of several. Why don’t you come in. I’m pretty sure I have some vodka in the freezer.”
“That is more like it,” Alexei said cheerfully as he stomped toward the trailer. “A story and a glass of vodka—this is going to be good.”
There was silence as she finished yet another rendition of her saga. She braced herself to try and convince the Riders to believe her, no matter how implausible her story. They had no innate magic, so handing them her wedding ring wouldn’t help. Not that it had convinced Beka anyway.
She held her breath, looking from one unreadable face to another. The Riders had been her lifeline for years; she didn’t know what she would do if they decided she was crazy and just walked away.
Their responses to her story weren’t exactly what she’d been expecting.
Gregori, as usual, was the most stoic of them all. He poured himself another shot of vodka, drank it down, and said in a thoughtful tone, “I run a shelter for troubled teens?”
Not knowing what to say, she just nodded.
“And I fall in love with a woman who has a baby?” Mikhail said, sounding both bemused and intrigued.
Alexei threw back his next shot and said happily, “I own a BAR?” He pumped his fists in the air. “I marry a woman who owns a bar. I definitely win.”
Barbara just stared at them. “Uh, guys? I think you are missing the point. All those things are in my timeline. If I put the universe back the way it is supposed to be, you will all lose your immortality again. You will have lived through torture, and a year in which you don’t speak to each other at all, and take these impossibly difficult journeys to figure out who you are once you can’t be the Riders anymore. It was terrible.”
The three brothers exchanged glances, communicating with each other in that silent way they had after spending centuries in each other’s company. Finally, Alexei gave a characteristically Russian shrug.
“We will take our chances,” he said. “What is meant to be is meant to be. Of course we will help.”
Barbara was overwhelmed with a combination of gratitude and guilt. “You guys are the best,” she said.
“Of course we are,” Mikhail agreed. “Now, tell us what you need us to do.”
After a meal and some more conversation, Gregori accepted a container full of cookies from Babs and rode off to keep an eye on Brenna. Surprisingly, Barbara had had no trouble convincing the Riders that Brenna was up to no good. As Alexei said in his typical blunt fashion, they’d seen the crazy handwriting on the wall a long time ago.
They had been pleased when the Queen forced Brenna to retire and hadn’t been in favor of her coming back—although, of course, the Queen didn’t consult them on that kind of decision. Plus, they’d seen the way that the old witch had chipped away at Beka’s confidence. Gregori was quietly delighted to be given the chance to help bring the old witch down.
Luckily, the trip out to California, which would have been lengthy on any normal motorcycle, would only take him a couple of days on one which could magically go faster and find shortcuts where none existed on any Human map.
A few minutes later, Alexei heaved his bulk up onto his Harley, having tucked his own cookies into his fringed black saddlebags, and headed toward southern Ohio. Jazz had been able to track down Peter Callahan’s location there, apparently using a combination of magic and computer skills that had Bella both impressed and slightly worried about the fate of the world. Alexei was going to see if there was any sign of Maya, and report back to Barbara if he found the rusalka.
Mikhail had chosen to stick around the area for now, although he’d promised to keep a low profile. As he drove away in search of a local bed and breakfast, the sun gleaming off his blonde hair and snug white jeans, Barbara thought that might be easier said than done. Still, the Riders had all been hiding in plain sight for much longer than she’d been alive, so she would try tp have a little faith. As it was, just knowing they were unreservedly on her side made her feel better than she had since the moment she’d realized
that her universe had been turned upside down.
“So, your friends not staying the night?” Liam asked as he put the paint away in his truck.
“Nope,” Barbara said.
“I don’t remember seeing them in the area before. They’re not from around here?”
Barbara scanned his face. She’d never been all that good at reading Human emotions, but she’d gotten a little better at it during the last few years married to the man standing before her. She was almost completely certain she was detecting a note of jealousy in his voice, which made her absurdly happy, although she was careful not to let it show.
“Nope,” she said. She could practically hear Liam grinding his teeth.
“I noticed they all had Russian accents, although not to the same degree. You have a tiny bit of one too, don’t you?” Liam tossed his tool belt onto the passenger seat and turned around to meet her eyes. “Is that where you met them?”
“You ask a lot of questions for someone who isn’t a lawman anymore,” she said. “Why would a handyman care where someone is from?” Then she took pity on him. “They’re just old friends who were passing through the area, so they came by to check out the house.”
“What did they think?” Liam asked, the hint of a smile playing around his lips.
Barbara sighed. “They thought I’d lost my mind, like most everyone else. But I still think the house is going to look great when we’re done. I can see it in my head.” Plus, of course, she’d seen it when it was finished the first time, which helped.
“Oh, I agree,” Liam said, to her surprise. “The house is solid. All the stuff that needs to be fixed is superficial. It’s going to be a beauty in the end.”
Barbara had no idea if she would be around to see it or not, which made the whole effort somewhat bittersweet. Still, the point had been to spend time with Liam, just in case she couldn’t solve the timeline issue.
“If you’re taking a break, would you like to come in for a cup of coffee?” she asked.
He hesitated, possibly questioning the wisdom of having coffee with a woman who, in another lifetime, he had referred to as odd, mysterious, and infuriating.
“I don’t know if you want me in your trailer,” he said. “I’m kind of a mess.”
“I live with a huge white dog and a small inquisitive child,” Barbara said. “I stopped worrying about messes a long time ago.”
His sudden flash of smile caught her by surprise, practically rocking her back on her heels. “Then thank you, I’d love a cup of coffee. I brought a thermos, but it’s pretty cold now.”
They walked into the Airstream, where Babs was sitting at the kitchen table working intently on something—it could have been her homeschooling, or a list of names for her new stuffed bear. She approached almost everything with that kind of concentration. At her feet, Chudo-Yudo was gnawing on a bone almost bigger than his head, which was really saying something, given that his head was the size of your average microwave oven.
“This is really cool,” Liam said, looking around. “I’ve been in a few RVs in my life, but I’ve never seen one like this.”
“What is an RV?” Babs asked, lifting her eyes from her paper. “Hello Liam. Would you like a cookie?” Her gaze darted to Barbara, who nodded reassuringly. She felt sorry for Babs, who had to pretend to barely know the man she considered to be her father. It was tough enough for Barbara, nearly impossible, really, but she had a lot more years of practice with accommodating the impossible. She thought Babs was doing remarkably well, all things considered. Of course, that was Babs for you.
“It’s short for recreational vehicle,” Liam said. “This Airstream is one kind of RV. There are lots of different types.”
Babs shook her head. “This is not a recreational vehicle. It is our home. It is very special.”
Liam smiled at her. “It certainly is. I’ve never come across one that was so fancy.” He pointed at the rich fabrics and Oriental rugs. “And yes, I would love a cookie, thank you.”
Babs hopped up to get the cookie jar, which was currently in the shape of a sitting cat. She’d been agitating for a kitten before everything had gone sideways, and had developed a slight tendency to drop less than subtle hints. Of course, given her unconventional upbringing, followed by a few years spent in Barbara’s company, it was no wonder that subtle wasn’t in her repertoire. It wasn’t usually in Barbara’s either.
“Chocolate chip,” Liam said. “That’s my favorite.”
“I know,” Babs said.”
Oops. “Chocolate chip is everyone’s favorite,” Barbara said smoothly, putting a cup of coffee down in front of Liam. He’d taken a seat opposite Babs and was reading her piece of paper upside down. No doubt another sheriff-acquired skill set.
“This is great,” Liam said, after taking a sip from his cup. “Two sugars and just a splash of milk, just the way I like it. How did you know?”
Oops again. Apparently Babs wasn’t the only one who needed to be more careful.
“Is it? That’s the way I take mine. I guess I just made them both that way out of habit.” She twitched her fingers, adding milk to her own normally black coffee. She hoped he wouldn’t notice the faint aroma of blue roses from the enchanted coffeemaker.
Luckily, he was more focused on the adorable urchin on the other side of the table. “That’s an interesting list,” he said. “Pooh. Pooka. Grizzly?”
“They are traditional names for bears,” Babs explained gravely. She held up the stuffed animal Barbara had picked up for her in town the other day in the hope that it would be some kind of comfort. “I have a new bear and I need to name him.”
“Ah, I see,” Liam said. “You know, you don’t have to give him a traditional name. You can name him anything you want.”
Babs paused with a cookie halfway to her mouth, considering this. “Anything?”
Liam shrugged. “I guess so. Why, what do you want to call him?”
“Kitty,” Babs said.
Barbara bit back a laugh as Liam nearly choked on his coffee. “I should have seen that one coming,” she said. “She’d been trying to convince me to get her a cat for a while now.”
“That explains it,” Liam said. “A stuffed bear named Kitty. Sure, why not? It’s no odder than anything else around here.”
Barbara gave him her best innocent look, well aware that is wasn’t her best talent. “We’re not odd. We’re just not ordinary, exactly.”
“Ordinary is boring,” Babs said with assurance. “Barbara always says so.”
“I see,” Liam said. “And yet you bought an ordinary house in an ordinary town.”
“The house isn’t ordinary,” Babs explained. “It has a ghost.”
Barbara finished her mouthful of cookie rapidly and added, “Dunville isn’t an ordinary town. It’s charming and just a little bit quirky.”
“So it is,” Liam said. “Not everyone appreciates that. But I guess it must have made quite the impression on you when you were here a year ago if you came back to stay.”
“Lots of things about the area made an impression on me,” Barbara said, gazing directly at him. She was rewarded by a hint of a blush. “The land is quite beautiful, and there are some interesting herbs that grow around here. But to be honest, it was the people who made the biggest impression on me.”
She wasn’t lying, either. For a woman who mostly professed not to like people, she had become very attached to those she had met when she’d come to Clearwater County: Liam, of course, but also Belinda and her parents, Bertie who ran the dinner and lived to make sure that everyone had as much comfort food as they needed, and Nina the dispatcher, and so many more. Mind you, there had been plenty who hadn’t welcomed her at first, but even those had mostly come around in the end.
The sad look crept back into Liam’s eyes. “They’re why I stay,” he said. “Even though in many ways it might be easier to leave.”
Barbara’s heart cracked a little bit more, but there was nothing she could do a
t the moment that would make him feel better. If only buying him a stuffed bear would help.
Reminding herself that the best thing she could do would be to fix the whole damned screwed up situation, she tried to put her focus back on her mission.
“Speaking of people, I remember meeting a man named Peter Callahan when I was here the last time. He worked for an energy company and had an assistant named Maya. I chatted with her a few times,” if head-on confrontations and death threats could be considered chatting, “and I promised I would look her up if I were ever back in the area. Do you happen to know if she is still around?”
Liam took another sip of coffee. “No neither of them is. They left not too long after you did, when the fracking moratorium was passed by the state. There was a bit of drama surrounding their departure, actually. I’ve never been clear on what exactly happened, but Peter’s son disappeared right around the time the company pulled out.”
“Oh?”
“Initially we thought it had something to do with the other children who went missing, but then it appeared more likely to be some kind of custody dispute, since he and his wife apparently had a very public falling out, and not long after that he was seen leaving town with Maya. Of course, she was his assistant, so maybe one had nothing to do with the other.”
“Did you ever investigate Peter’s son’s disappearance?” Barbara asked, curious. In her timeline, Maya had stolen Peter’s son and taken him to the Otherworld, but there hadn’t been any sign that had happened this time around.
Liam gave a half-hearted shrug. “I probably would have, but the town board fired me around then for my failure to find any clues into the whereabouts of the other children who had vanished. My successor said that since all the parties involved had left town, and no one had filed a missing persons report, it wasn’t his problem.”
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