It was as though his face had been wax and put against a fire. No features remained, just rivulets of skin.
The man’s face had been melted with acid.
There were dozens of them. They didn’t look human, more like malformed statues, failed human shapes that had been abandoned. Then Billi saw the bites. Along the arms. Along the thighs and necks. Chunks had been bitten off where the ghuls had gnawed at the flesh.
“No fingerprints, no features. No way of finding out who they were,” said the woman. “Every month Koshchey delivers a container of fresh ones to the vampires. They pay him well and he keeps them fat and off the streets. A few decide they would rather hunt than pay. Those Koshchey eliminates.”
“Koshchey arranged this?” Billi asked. Even for him this seemed beyond inhuman.
“Yes. That is why the vampires no longer hunt on the streets. They do not need to. Koshchey delivers them all the fresh blood they could want. They pay him well. And think of what the vampires have offered him for a Spring Child.”
“Just for money? All this just for money?” Billi had thought, despite their brutality, that the Bogatyrs fought for the same cause as the Templars. But she knew that ghuls, vampires, supped on the soul of their victim. That’s why they couldn’t survive on blood from animals or blood bags. It was those last few drops of blood, the drops that carried the last heartbeat and with it the soul, that strengthened ghuls. And the soul of a Spring Child, an avatar, would be the richest of all.
“You call us evil, when all we do is defend what is ours. You call the sacrifice of the Spring Child evil, when she will renew the world.” The woman waved her three companions away. “I have seen what evil is, and it is mankind. You do this for paper.” She spat on the ground. “Perhaps you are right and Baba Yaga will bring Fimbulwinter. But she will save us from it. My goddess is old and wise, and if she thinks that the world will be purged of mankind and born a new, I will not question her wisdom.”
“No. Not all of us are like that.” Billi grabbed the woman’s wrist. “You came here to thank me for saving you and the girl, but I haven’t. Not her, not anyone, if Baba Yaga gets her way. We will all die! Tell me where Vasilisa is, please.”
Doubt briefly crossed the paisley woman’s eyes. She could see that Billi believed what she was telling her.
“Please,” Billi begged. “Just because Koshchey is a monster doesn’t mean we all are. You know that, otherwise you wouldn’t be here. Tell me where they’ve taken Vasilisa.”
“I’m sorry. I cannot defy the will of the goddess.” She waited for Billi to release her.
“You’re making a big mistake.” Billi dropped her grip. She turned away and looked at Ivan. He stood as rigid as a statue, eyes fixed on the contents of the rusty container.
“Let’s go, Ivan.” The smell of decaying flesh fogged her brain.
“Look at what he’s done, Billi.”
“We’ll deal with him later,” she promised. She’d never seen anything so horrific. The Unholy had done the killing, but it had taken a human’s capacity for cold, heartless logic to make it happen, month in, month out.
Ivan shook his head. “No. I will deal with him.” There was a conviction in his voice that Billi found chilling. “I will kill Koshchey.”
26
“I’M CALLING THE OTHERS. WE’RE LEAVING.” Billi started dialing her father’s number. The Templars had to get out, tonight, and meet up with Arthur. Vasilisa’s granny was the only lead they had now. There was no way they could trust the Bogatyrs. The moment Koshchey had Vasilisa, he’d no longer need the Templars. Billi had no illusions of what would happen then: they’d be eliminated without a thought.
Ivan put his hand on hers. “Koshchey is monitoring your phones.” He took it and switched it off. “It is standard KGB procedure.”
“And you talk about trust?” Billi snapped. The moment she said it she regretted it. Ivan was in a bad place right now and he needed her. She could see it in his eyes: his whole world teetered on the brink of destruction. Koshchey had betrayed his father. The Bogatyrs were involved in the vilest trade with the ghuls. Everything he knew was a lie.
Billi held his hand. “We’ll get through this.”
Ivan gritted his teeth, holding down the rage that was like a tidal wave inside him. “How shall we proceed?” he asked. Obviously he didn’t trust himself to keep his head, not right now.
“Act like nothing’s happened. Let’s get back to the Ministry and get Gwaine and the other Templars.” Billi walked back toward the waiting car. “Who else in the Bogatyrs can you trust? Really trust?”
Ivan pointed to his bodyguard. “Dimitri.”
“Anyone else?”
“No one for certain.”
Billi thought about it. Ivan had to come with them. A look from Ivan confirmed he knew that too. Koshchey had already tried to kill him; it was obvious now. He’d rushed off to fight that ghul, assuming the Bogatyrs were right behind him. If Billi hadn’t saved him, Ivan would have been murdered by Koshchey’s vampire, and Koshchey would have gotten rid of him without dirtying his hands. No blame. No suspicions. Sooner or later Koshchey would get rid of him, especially if he got a hint that Ivan had uncovered his trade with the ghuls. He would throw caution to the wind and there’d be a straight and simple killing.
“You’d better stick with us,” Billi said.
Ivan stopped by the car door and looked down at the pistol clipped to his belt. Billi knew exactly what he was thinking. How he wanted to take that pistol, put the barrel against Koshchey’s head and pull the trigger. “Ivan, you’ll get your chance. But we’ve got to get Vasilisa. She has to be our priority.” Ivan nodded, his honor as a Bogatyr guiding his decision.
Billi respected him even more than she had before. She touched his arm. “Don’t pack. Just find out what you can-if Koshchey has any leads he’s not sharing. We’ll call my dad on another line and plan our next step.”
“Which is?”
“Buggered if I know.” She needed a phone. “Dad was looking for Vasilisa’s grandmother. The woman knew a lot about Baba Yaga. He’s hoping she might point him in the right direction. He thinks the witch is nearby; the area’s been flooded with wolves. But it’s all just guesswork. We don’t know anything for sure.”
Billi looked up at the moon. Almost full.
“We have to stop her, Ivan.”
Ivan opened the car door and squeezed Billi’s hand.
“I will help you, Billi SanGreal.”
A crash on the motorway meant it took them almost three hours to get back to the Ministry, and Billi couldn’t think for the turmoil her emotions were in.
How could they have known that Koshchey was a monster? That the Bogatyrs had become human traffickers?
Lance had suspected Koshchey was no good, but never that the entire order had been corrupted so swiftly.
Ivan was right: Koshchey had to die.
But not today.
As they entered the lobby they passed two of the Bogatyrs, who each nodded to Ivan.
“You get Lance and Gwaine. I’ll get Elaine,” Billi murmured, glancing at the large clock above the main staircase. It was two in the morning. “I’ll meet you in the garage in ten minutes.”
Minutes later Billi banged on the library door.
“Elaine, you in there?”
Abook slammed onto the floor, and Elaine, glasses resting on her forehead, stared at Billi, rubbing her eyes.
“Where the hell have you been?” she demanded. She took hold of Billi’s sleeve and dragged her in, shutting the door behind her. “You have got to see this.”
“We don’t have time.” Billi tried to resist, but the old woman wouldn’t let her go.
Books from the Bogatyr library covered the entire floor. Old books and scrolls were scattered over a dining table. Lance was right: Elaine was in research heaven. A mattress and blanket lay on the polished wooden floor. So this was where Elaine was sleeping. Billi had guessed as much. She glanced over the
endless cabinets and rows of stuffed bookshelves, then rested her eyes on a large portrait above the fireplace, and on a face she recognized.
That could be Ivan.
Tsar Nicholas II gazed at her with imperious indifference. He stood behind a chair upon which his wife, the tsarina, sat. Beside him were three young women. Billi didn’t need to guess which was Anastasia. Ivan had inherited more than just her beauty. He even stood the same way she did, straight, relaxed, regal.
Elaine grinned. “I know what happened to Baba Yaga.” She slapped her head. “Obvious, really. She’s an elementalist. Whatever affects the Earth affects her. And something did affect her-the Earth-a hundred years ago.” Elaine smacked her fist into her palm. “Right here, in Russia.”
“What, Elaine?”
Elaine began searching through the scattered books, opening and slamming them as she tried to find what she was looking for. “I’ll show you. I’ll show you…”
Billi sighed impatiently and leaned up against the table. Arms folded, she caughta glimpse of movement. A shadow moved in the gap between the bottom of the door frame and the floor. She heard a man take a deep breath, followed by the click of a catch. She grabbed Elaineand dived behindthe sofa as the door exploded open and the darkness screamed with gunfire.
27
BILLI THREW HER ARMS OVER HER HEAD AS SHARDS of glass from the long line of windows around her exploded like crystal shrapnel. The sofa pulsed as bullets thumped into the dense wood. The wind pulled savagely at the long curtains, and Billi felt the snow-carrying cold blast her. In a matter of seconds the world had gone to hell.
Her ears rang with the echoing gunfire that bounced back and forth off the heavy marble walls. The air carried the acrid, metallic flavor of gunpowder.
Petrified, Elaine hung on to Billi, her eyes shut tight. She shook so badly that Billi had to wrap her arms around her, even though she herself could do nothing but pray.
The echoes lasted longer than the gunfire. Snow blew in from the line of now-demolished windows, and the city beyond sparkled.
“Hello? Are you still alive?” a mocking voice boomed, deep with amusement. Koshchey.
“Of course!” shouted Billi, sounding a hell of a lot braver than she felt. “Were you shooting at us? I didn’t realize.”
Two Bogatyrs poked their guns over the sofa. One dragged Elaine out by the hair, and the other went for Billi. She slapped his hands away and stood up.
Billi casually brushed the splinters from her coat. She couldn’t let Koshchey see how frightened she was. The Bogatyrs gathered around them. The Bogatyr released his hold on Elaine, and she stood beside Billi, staring at the devastation.
Koshchey strolled into the library. His collar was loose and his shirt stained with sweat, face flushed red by some recent exertion.
There were now ten Bogatyrs in the library. They all wore casual clothing, but carried guns. Two held Ivan between them. He struggled, but the men had his arms bent behind his back.
Where were Lance and Gwaine? Koshchey glared at the portrait of the royal family and held out his hand. One of his men put a pistol in it.
Koshchey shot Tsar Nicholas between the eyes. The hole in the canvas flickered with flame, then turned into wispy smoke.
“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” he said.
He put another hole between Anastasia’s eyes.
“And that,” he said, handing the pistol back. With one sweep of his trunk-wide arms he hurled the books off the table. Elaine flinched as the priceless, one-of-a-kind tomes and scrolls scattered.
“You can’t-” Elaine started as she scrabbled among the discarded books. One of the Bogatyrs knocked them out of her hands and pushed her back against Billi.
Koshchey glanced at the man. “Andrei, if the old woman speaks again, break her jaw.”
“Is something wrong?” Billi asked. If Gwaine and Lance were anywhere close, they would have heard the gunfire. She needed to play for time. Give them a chance to get away.
“I offered you hospitality, my aid. My men’s lives, Templar, and you betray my trust. Sneaking off behind my back. Aiding the enemy. Yuri saw you and Ivan talking with the Polenitsy tonight. Did you not think I would find out?” He looked at the cloth in his hand. “Is that gratitude?”
“All you’ve ever done has been for yourself.” Ivan glared, trying to break free.
“Ah, Romanov.” Koshchey waved at the men on either side of Ivan. “All this you owe to me. If your father had been left in charge, we’d be as poor as the Templars.” He slapped his chest. “I have made the Bogatyrs strong. I have made them powerful, feared. And you dare to think I would hand it all over to a whelp like you? It is my destiny to rule the Bogatyrs. Your father had to die.”
“You don’t even deny it? That you are a traitor?”
Koshchey looked around at his men and laughed. They laughed too. “Deny it? I deny nothing. I led him to the Polenitsy and left him there. He was weak. The gray werewolf made short work of him, I hear. He died begging on his knees. I still celebrate your father’s death.”
Ivan roared and charged. Koshchey’s right fist snapped forward, and the blow took Ivan off the ground. Billi caught him as he stumbled backward, amazed he wasn’t unconscious, or dead.
“No, Ivan-”
He threw himself forward, but still reeling from Koshchey’s blow, his punch was off target. Koshchey took it on his chest without a reaction. Then he grabbed Ivan’s collar and slammed his knee into the young man’s belly.
Ivan slumped down. His chest heaved and his fingers scraped the floor as he searched for a grip that would help him get up again.
“It would have been better if the vampire had killed you, as planned,” said Koshchey. “But Lady SanGreal had to save you.”
Slowly, Ivan rose to his feet, his rage and defiance undiminished.
“Fight me, fight me like a man of honor,” he snarled, staring hatefully at the huge Bogatyr.
“Honor is for old men and young fools.” Koshchey pulled out a rag and shook it open. He pressed it against the back of his neck, drawing it over his bald head. Up close, Billi saw it bore a green pattern, one she recognized.
Paisley.
Koshchey spotted Billi’s look of horror.
“Oh yes, Templar. The woman told me everything. Eventually.” Then he straightened and pulled the pistol from his waistband. “I will find Vasilisa-you can take comfort in that. I will make sure Baba Yaga does not get her. And I will make sure Fimbulwinter never happens. That is what you all want, yes? She is much too valuable to be left to the Polenitsy and their insane goddess.”
He drew back the slide of his gun, chambering a round. Then he pointed it at Ivan’s head.
“I’ve dreamed of killing a Romanov myself,” he said.
“Drop it, fat man.”
Koshchey’s jaw fell open. Gwaine stood right behind him, the barrel of his pistol pressed against the back of Koshchey’s head.
The other Bogatyrs reacted in different ways. Some turned to point their guns at Gwaine, but Koshchey was so large he practically formed a human shield. Lance appeared from behind a shot-up column and motioned Billi and Elaine toward him and the door. He held a pistol in his hand and had a backpack slung over his shoulder. They’d come in the nick of time.
Gwaine turned Koshchey around so the big Russian covered him. “We’re leaving now. Thanks for your hospitality.”
Billi and Ivan gathered all the men’s guns, took two each, then tossed the rest out the nearest window.
They backed slowly toward the elevator, Gwaine holding Koshchey in front of him.
They got in, and Lance pressed the bottom button for the garage.
“You won’t get away with this,” snarled Koshchey.
“Now that’s original,” replied Gwaine.
Billi used her sleeve to wipe the blood from Ivan’s face, as gently as she could. She knew how much it would be hurting right now.
“You all right?”
; “I’ll live.” He faced Koshchey. “Unlike this pig.” He shoved his pistol under Koshchey’s chin. Koshchey’s face drained of all color.
“Alors, Tsarevich,” said Lance. “He is our hostage, oui?”
Ivan pushed the pistol farther into the man’s jaw. Billi leaned back, expecting scattered brains any second. Ivan saw her and hung his head in frustration. He nodded and lowered his weapon.
“What’s the plan?” asked Billi.
“First we get out of here. After you.” Gwaine pushed Koshchey forward as the doors opened. Men spilled out of the doorway from the stairs in the far corners of the garage, but they could do nothing but glower; no one dared approach while Koshchey was their hostage. A few had grabbed more weapons, but no one was going to risk a shot in the poor light.
Elaine and Billi bundled into the front seat of a big seven-seater four-by-four, the others got in the back. It took Elaine only seconds to hot-wire the vehicle.
“When did you learn that?” asked Billi.
“During my misspent youth.”
“They had cars back then?”
Elaine flattened the accelerator and twisted the wheel without commenting. The large vehicle spun around to face the exit. Billi could see that many of the Bogatyrs were starting up their own cars. They weren’t going to let their boss out of their sight.
The four-by-four rolled up the ramp and onto ulitsa Bolshaya Polyanka, the main road that headed away from the city.
Behind them three more vehicles rose out of the garage. At this time of the morning there were hardly any other cars on the road.
“Where to?” Billi asked.
“There’s a private airfield to the south,” said Ivan. “We can leave Moscow, but my plane is too small for all of us.” He gazed coldly at their prisoner. “Where is Dimitri?”
“Where do you think, Tsarevich?”
Ivan sank into his seat, head bowed. Billi saw him close his eyes and bite his lips. Dimitri must have meant a lot to him. “He was loyal, Koshchey.”
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