by Natalie Grey
Alexi had insisted on sitting next to Christina, and she was presently clambering onto his shoulders and his head with an expression of dogged persistence, heedless of the fact that they were in a restaurant.
No one seemed to care. This was hardly a formal place, and children were woven into the life of the town here.
Nathan smiled at her before looking at Ecaterina, “So, what did you find out?”
“They’re rich,” Ecaterina said at once.
“How do you know?” Nathan asked her in confusion.
“The traps are very good quality.” Ecaterina nodded to her pack. “I’ll show you when we’re back home, but they’re coated so that they won’t rust, they’re very sharp, and they’re complex, not just a simple trip.”
“They’re powerful.” Alexi looked grim, or as grim as it was possible to look with a small child climbing on his head. “They can shatter bones.”
“And there are a lot of them,” Ecaterina added. “We picked up as many as we could, and disabled others.”
“Is it worth letting them know that you are on to them?” Yelena asked worriedly. “If they see that someone has been taking or disabling traps, maybe your hand will be tipped.”
Ecaterina smiled. It was not a nice smile, and Yelena had the sudden motivation never to do anything that would annoy her.
“I don’t think we need to worry about that,” Ecaterina explained. Her smile turned almost conspiratorial. “We want them to notice. Whoever they are, we’ve just undone a lot of their work. There’s going to be a flurry of activity, and as soon as we have one of them, I’m fairly sure we can persuade him to tell us who they work for.”
Alexi laughed, shaking his head at his niece. “Wasn’t so long ago that you were making mud pies and skinning your knees, and now here you are, making plans like that. Why, if I didn’t know better, I’d say that husband of yours was a bad influence.”
Nathan laughed. There was too much fondness in Alexi’s tone for it to be anything but a joke…and he knew enough to know that Alexi valued Ecaterina’s rather unconventional style of solving problems.
Their laughter was interrupted by a sudden spate of barking.
“Bellatrix!” Yelena was up and to the dog in a moment. “Don’t bark like that. You—”
She stopped suddenly. Having worked in a kennel, she had been taught to value good manners in a dog, but she had also been taught to trust a dog’s instincts.
And right now Bellatrix was on high alert.
Bellatrix, who up until now had hated no one in the world except Cipriano, Yelena’s ex-boyfriend.
Yelena followed the dog’s gaze. A man across the street was watching her. His eyes met hers briefly, but it was Bellatrix he was watching.
And Bellatrix was watching him, a low growl building in her throat.
He disappeared around a corner a moment later, but not before Nathan got a glimpse. Yelena had crouched next to Bellatrix and was apologizing for doubting her reaction, whispering over and over that she would never let that man hurt her.
She looked up at Nathan. “Was that…”
“One of the men who was staring this morning?” Nathan finished. “Yes.” He looked over his shoulder at Ecaterina. “You said you were looking for people who might be trading wolf furs, right? Well, we might just have brought the perfect bait to lure them into the open.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Bobcat turned the truck up an unpaved road and savored the heavy chug of the engine. Dust was rising behind him in the heavy midafternoon air. Though it was turning to autumn and the chill was evident in the mornings and the evenings, the days still had that hot, dreamy quality to them.
Bobcat hadn’t spent much time in the Midwest in his life, but he was finding that it suited him.
Outside the major cities the land turned quickly to a dotted landscape of fields and tiny stands of trees, houses set far apart, and barns with silos. Cows grazed peaceably, horses swatted flies with their tails, and the lines of crops about to be harvested curved hypnotically over the swells of the hills.
This, Bobcat thought, was the sort of place a man could lose himself peacefully for a few decades.
He wondered if Yelena would like it here.
Maybe, he decided. He could easily picture her striding through dew-soaked tall grass in a heavy sweater and knee-high rain boots, surrounded by an adoring pack of German Shepherds.
The thought was so distracting that he missed his next turn and had to back the truck up. His face heated. It wasn’t shame, exactly, he just found that he felt more alive when he was with Yelena or even when he thought about her. His heart was going faster than normal.
He guided the truck up a low hill surrounded by trees and emerged into a broad clearing. A couple of battered trucks sat outside a garage with peeling paint. One of the truck beds held a wealth of vegetables, perhaps to be taken to a farmers’ market, and the other was filled with a huge crush of tools.
The farmhouse itself was old and stately, and the trees had been cleared on one side of the hill to allow a clear view of the fields below. Sheep and horses grazed on the land between, and Bobcat took a minute to soak in the view.
He’d forgotten how big a sky could be.
The sound of the door opening recalled him, and he turned to see an older man heading down the walk from the house. The man wore weathered jeans, stained from heavy use but recently washed, a flannel shirt tucked in, and work boots that looked well broken-in.
He stopped and gave Bobcat a onceover, but it wasn’t clear from the look on his face if he liked what he saw or not.
He turned his gaze to the truck, but spoke to Bobcat. “You’re the one my son talked to, huh?”
“Your son is Jim McHugh?” Bobcat asked. The man on the phone had sounded old and gruff. How old was this man?
“Yep, that’s him.” The man nodded decisively. “I’m Dick. Wasn’t plannin’ to give you the time of day, but Jim liked the sound of you.”
Abruptly Bobcat felt guilty.
When he had called around to the farms in the area he’d told them that he’d never been to the Midwest, but had come into a little bit of money and was hoping to buy some land, maybe start a small farm.
Jim had been suspicious—and rightly so—but Bobcat had pressed onwards. He wanted to know how the crops worked together, he said. It wouldn’t be a large-scale farming operation since he didn’t have that much money, but he wanted to know all about the pests and what depleted the land and what fed it. He asked about livestock. He mentioned being interested in reviving some of the old varieties of crops, and asked about curing meats.
It seemed that he’d managed to convince the man, and now he felt guilty for lying.
But what could he say? I’m a representative of TQB—yeah, that TQB—and the Queen Bitch wants a lot of seeds just in case?
“Let’s walk down to the fields,” Dick suggested. He started walking without waiting to see if Bobcat would follow. Like many patriarchs before him he just assumed others would obey, and he had the gruff, commanding air that ensured they would.
Bobcat fell in beside him and climbed up over a stile into the field.
“Watch the muck,” Dick suggested pragmatically.
Then he fixed Bobcat with a stare.
“So what’s your story?”
“I told Jim—”
“Yeah, I know what you told Jim. You want t’learn about seeds. Why?”
In his pocket, Bobcat’s phone buzzed and he struggled not to pull it out. It might be a shipping confirmation on the myrcene oil. Once again, he saw happy visions of Yelena laughing and cheering as he won the beer competition…
He cleared his throat hastily.
And whether it was something in the view or the air or Dick McHugh’s weathered face, he found himself speaking as honestly as he could. He talked about living life with a purpose, and how he felt when he’d watched the sun rise over the fields this morning as he drove. He talked about wanting to give Yelena
a farmhouse in the country and a place for her dogs to run. He mentioned the feel of dirt under his fingernails, and how he’d always worked best in the mornings when everyone else was asleep—and how, when he got an idea in his head, he was stubborn as all get-out.
He could tell Dick was intrigued. Somehow—Bobcat would never later be sure exactly how—the farmer got the story out of him about piloting helicopters, working on his own machines, and even a bit about the mysterious employer who had given Bobcat the money to buy seeds with.
“She a farmer?” he asked in surprise, and Bobcat laughed.
He pictured Bethany Anne’s couture and her sudden ferocious violence. She was as far from being a Midwestern farmer as he could imagine, and yet he thought Bethany Anne and Dick would get on very well.
“No,” he said. “Just practical.”
Dick McHugh nodded. They had reached the dirt road that ran alongside the fields and were staring contemplatively at the corn. It was nearly ripe for harvest, and Bobcat, to his surprise, could smell it. His mouth watered.
“Yeah,” Dick said finally. He nodded and looped his thumbs through his belt buckles. “Don’t know if you’d make a good farmer, t’be honest, but I like the look of you so I’ll help you figure out which seeds you need. I can make sure you get ‘em, too.”
Bobcat grinned and held out his hand to shake. “Thank you. You have no idea how much this means to me.”
To his surprise, he wasn’t telling even a bit of a lie.
The more he saw places like this and was surrounded by things growing and the smell of rich tilled earth, the more he thought there was really something to this seed-vault plan.
Romania
Ecaterina’s phone rang that evening, and she strained to reach it without dislodging Christina. Her daughter had fallen asleep nestled against her, seemingly totally untroubled by the noises around her, but Ecaterina knew that as soon as she moved, the girl would wake up and be grumpy.
To her great surprise, she found she didn’t mind very much.
“Hi,” she answered.
Bethany Anne’s voice was cautious, “Is everything okay? You’re talking very softly.”
“Christina is asleep,” Ecaterina explained. “I really don’t need to be quiet, but it’s just an instinct around sleeping kids, you know?”
“I do the same thing,” Bethany Anne laughed, “but that kid could sleep through a hurricane.”
“Yeah.” Ecaterina kissed the top of her daughter’s head. “Yeah, she could. Funny how she can’t put up with broccoli, though.”
“Still having the broccoli fight? Better you than me.” Bethany Anne, a woman of iron will, nonetheless knew when she had met her match—and Christina, faced with a request to eat broccoli, was a match for anyone. “So how are things going down there?”
“Well, actually, it’s good for Alexi to see Christina, and I can’t wait to start looking for seeds. In fact, I have Nathan and Yelena off cataloguing plants.” Ecaterina chewed her lip. “There’s just, uh…something I have to do before that.”
Back on the Meredith Reynolds, Bethany Anne propped her feet up on a footrest and grinned. The deep, deep blue of the shoes winked back at her, visible only briefly as the shoes caught the light. She took a moment to admire her new footwear and then returned to the matter at hand.
“I know that tone of voice. Someone did something bad.”
Ecaterina was trying not to laugh too loudly. “Since when do I have a tone of voice for that?”
“You learned it from your husband,” Bethany Anne explained. “It was always a lurking tendency, and he definitely brought it out in you.”
“A lurking tendency… Good Lord, woman.” Ecaterina snorted.
“You’re very justice-minded. Everyone who works for me is.” Bethany Anne settled into her chair with a pleased grin. “So what’s going on?”
“Someone’s trapping wolves for fur,” Ecaterina told her. “I don’t know if I can explain to someone who didn’t grow up hunting for food, but—”
“That is the most cowardly, dishonorable, useless thing!” Bethany Anne exploded. “Those raccoon-humping shit-guzzlers had better hope their dicks rot off before I find them or I’m going to make them eat them.”
Ecaterina stared down the phone and wondered vaguely if she should have covered her child’s ears.
“So what I’m hearing is, you don’t mind me taking some time to mess them up before I head back?” She kept her voice calm, but there was a laugh threatening.
“No, I fucking do not.” Bethany Anne was still heated. “What’s your plan?”
“Well,” Ecaterina grinned, “Alexi and I came up with one this morning, and Nathan put the finishing touches on it. Did you know my husband is an evil genius, by the way?”
“I did. It’s one of his best qualities.”
“Indeed. So…” Ecaterina detailed the plan, grinning as she did.
By the end, Bethany Anne was back to her good humor. “That’s amazing,” she told Ecaterina. “They aren’t going to know what hit them. Let me know how it goes, and say hi to everyone for me.”
***
Marcus and Barnabas strolled along a country lane. The smell of lavender hung in the air, and Marcus gave a disbelieving laugh.
“What is it?” Barnabas asked curiously.
“I didn’t, uh... I didn’t think it would actually be this picturesque.” Marcus shook his head. “But it really is as gorgeous as it’s supposed to be. I wish I had someone to bring here,” he added mournfully.”
“Self-pity is not becoming,” Barnabas said severely.
“It’s just annoying,” Marcus muttered. “John has Jean, Bobcat has Yelena…”
“John does not have Jean.” Barnabas’ tone had grown sharper, and he fixed Marcus with a glare. “Nor does Bobcat have Yelena. Both have cultivated meaningful relationships with the ladies in question. As could you.”
“But on a space station—”
“I refuse to waste any further time speaking of this.”
“Fine.” Marcus was just opening his mouth to ask about the seeds they were hoping to get when Tabitha raced past them at high speed.
“Woohooooooo!”
She had seen a rental shop for bikes in the nearby town and had absolutely insisted that she be allowed to rent one. While Barnabas argued that it was a tourist trap and vastly overpriced, Marcus had quietly shelled out the money to the shop’s proprietor.
When Barnabas fixed him with a glare, Marcus shrugged. “We have more money than God.”
That only made the glare worse. Barnabas had a rather old-fashioned concept of heresy.
However, he was not immune to the sight of Tabitha racing around on the bike, and he smiled fondly after her.
“See, you’re glad she has it!” Marcus said now.
“I am,” Barnabas admitted. “I forget sometimes that Tabitha’s youth was rather interrupted. It is good to see her enjoying something so simple. I worry about her at times.”
“Oh?” Marcus glanced at the farmhouse they were approaching. It was still a ways down the road, but he was beginning to pick out details like the tiles on the roof, the smooth sides of the building, and the garden in front.
“She is young,” Barnabas said simply. “She is very clever, of course, but that only makes her lack of experience more dangerous. She believes she can always work her way out of problems. And...” He cleared his throat almost awkwardly.
Marcus looked over in silent amazement. From brewing beer to combat, he had never once seen Barnabas be the least bit awkward.
“I do not want her to be hurt,” Barnabas admitted. “I care for her.”
There was a crash and a shriek from up ahead, and some cartwheeling limbs announced that Tabitha had been thrown from her bike into a ditch.
“Rather like an idiot niece,” Barnabas said contemplatively.
Marcus’ shoulders shook. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to be laughing at this.
A shout from u
p ahead alerted them to the farmer’s presence. Perhaps lured out of his house by Tabitha’s bike crash, he was now hurrying along the road.
“Let us go obtain some lavender,” Barnabas said serenely and quickened his pace without seeming to move more urgently at all.
“Vampires,” Marcus muttered as he hurried after him.
Romania
Ecaterina hopped off a ledge into the underbrush, “All I’m saying is, someone would know if it was a person in town. You would have heard about it.”
“Are you sure?” Alexi asked doubtfully. “If they were using the money for these traps…”
“If someone came into that much money there’d be talk. You know they wouldn’t be able to hide it or resist buying some rounds at the inn, and word would creep out, especially from anyone doing this sort of trapping. They aren’t going to do it alone. They’re cowards, remember?”
“I suppose. Found another one.” Alexi knelt to examine the trap carefully, then retreated to a safe distance to trip it with a long stick.
He winced as the trap clanged shut. It wasn’t particularly good for the traps to slam shut when there was nothing inside, but then again, he wasn’t worried about damaging the equipment.
What he was worried about was the force of the traps. The way they came together was strong enough to shatter bone, but not sever a limb. The injured animal would not have the chance to die with dignity, it would be forced to lie in the trap and bleed out slowly.
The thought made him feel almost physically ill.
A shout from up the hill made him turn to look.
“Ecaterina.” He didn’t look back, just kept his eyes locked on the man heading toward them. “We have company.”
“Interesting.” She came to stand beside him and he saw her assessing the man’s gait. “I feel like I’ve met him before, but I can’t place him.”
“It’s old Mihai’s grandson,” Alexi answered. “His mother and father raised him in Brasov, but when his mother died his father shipped him back here. I think his name was Alexandru.”
“Andrei—I remember him now.” Ecaterina tilted her head. “He must not remember you though, if he’s the one setting these traps.”