“You want to fight me, Katya? Let’s do it then.”
“Suits me fine.” She dropped her pack and pulled out her silver hunting knife. “Go ahead, morph. Make the fight fair. I’m itching to beat the shit out of some volk krovi right now.”
“Look, Katya, I know they don’t trust you but you should know me well enough by now to know… “
“To know what, Izrayl? That as soon as the pack turns up, I’m suddenly not worth shit? Yeah, don’t worry, I got it.”
“Are you going to let me explain?”
“You don’t need to explain. You want to leave, so go, fuck off back to the pack. You are too embarrassed to stand beside me when they are around anyway.” She sheathed her knife and picked up her bag. Izrayl’s weight hit her like a sack of bricks, sending her sprawling onto the grass. She kicked up, trying to dislodge him as they rolled. He pinned her down as she squirmed.
“Right!” he roared, his voice changing to a furious rumbling growl. “You will stop talking and you will listen to me.” Katya couldn’t move anything else so she turned her head from him. “I don’t know where you got the ridiculous idea in your head that I’m going to leave you and go back to a pack, but I’ve a feeling that bitch Yana was involved. I spent the entire night talking to people, trying to glean whatever information I could get about the enemies movements through Skazki. I didn’t want to aggravate the situation or jeopardise your safety by hanging off you like some love sick pup. It would’ve made you and I look weak in their eyes, like you needed to be protected from volk krovi by a volk krovi because you aren’t a good enough hunter to defend yourself. I wasn’t going to let them think that. They fear you Katya, and with fear comes a measure of respect. In their eyes, you are the bogeyman, strong and unpredictable; they weren’t game to mess with you or Aleki. Except stupid bloody Yana messed with you in a different way. What did she tell you? That I’d go back to the pack because we are at war?”
Katya bit her tongue. She was embarrassed that she’d been baited so easily but Yana’s words still stung and compounded the feelings of abandonment. Izrayl let one of her wrists go so he could cup her cold cheek in his hand.
“I’m sorry if I hurt you,” he said softly. “I didn’t have time to explain and their hearing is ridiculous.”
“I won’t be the thing that stops you from being with them and being happy. If your heart is with the pack then you must be with them. You deserve someone who can give you kids…” Katya whispered.
“And who says you can’t? Fucking Yana really did a number on you, didn’t she?” He moved her head so she was forced to look into his amber eyes. Tears filled her own before she could get a grip on them. “You aren’t the reason I’m not in a pack, Katya. I hate being in a pack, always have. My heart lies with you and you are my home. You, Aleki, Anya, and the whole mental bunch of them. They’re the only pack I am interested in.”
Katya grabbed him with her free arm and hugged him around his neck. He sat up, lifting her onto his lap, and wrapped her tightly to him.
“I’m sorry I hit you so hard,” she sniffed.
“It’s okay, I deserved it. You drive me insane woman. Do you know that? You are the craziest -” Katya kissed him hard, gripping him tightly with her legs. Izrayl’s hands were up under her coat in seconds gripping her hips tightly. She finally pulled back from his lips, kissing his cheeks as he rested his face in the groove of her neck.
“You know I love you, right?” she whispered into his ear. “You’re the reason I’m so fucking crazy jealous and paranoid about you going back to the pack. I saw the way Yana was looking at you and I lost it. You made me promise not to start a fight. Otherwise, I would’ve torn the bitches pretty blue eyes out of her smirking head.”
Izrayl started to laugh and he kissed her cheeks. “Oh, my beautiful, violent huntress, how I love you. Come on, we better catch up. Otherwise, Aleki will send out the search party.”
“True, I forgot how much having no privacy sucks. What a shame because I would dearly love to…” Katya whispered in his ear. A growl reverberated through him.
“Ah! Enough!” he said as he covered his ears. “Get going right now before I do something to you that you won’t want your sister to walk in on. Demon woman!” Katya laughed with mischievous glee as she took his hand and they hurried to find the others.
Chapter Eighteen - Battle Plans
Yanka stretched gracefully beneath the silky sheets of the Presidential Mansion in Moscow. The sleeping man beside her moved to rest his hand on her breast and she tried not to fling it from her. Alexei Barsukov was the President after all and had to be treated with appropriate tact.
Yanka didn’t truly give a damn about real world politics but a powerful ally never went astray. It had taken two hours and a few shots of vodka and now, Alexei was a very solid ally. She sighed, after sleeping for so long she lamented that a beautiful woman could still manipulate men so easily. The President had no idea who Yanka really was, the glamour laid on him that she was new on his staff. He had seen her, he had wanted her, and it was a matter of her saying yes.
As they had kissed, Yanka had whispered, “Will you promise to be loyal to me if I do this?” Alexei filled with a burning lust had readily assured her and she knew he’d been lying but it didn’t matter. Yanka bit the inside of her lip with a pretence of feigned passion and kissed him. Her blood was now in him and their covenant sealed.
Yanka smiled again, he would have no choice but to be loyal now. He began to snore softly, which signalled her time to leave. She detangled his hand from its grip and slipped out of bed. Once she was dressed and had pulled on her heavy bear fur coat she went into the bathroom, opened a gate and slipped back into her mansion on Vasilyevsky Island.
“You smell like politician,” Vasilli said as he took her coat. “I trust that everything went well.”
“Of course it did. Men are the same no matter where you go or what time you are in.” Yanka watched him pour her vodka. He was such a handsome, powerful boy, and she felt a touch of motherly pride. She couldn’t remember his father’s name or his face, only the taste of his dark magic that she had pulled from him. All the magic Vasilli had consumed had settled on him well.
“Why are you frowning, mamasha? This is a victory,” Vasilli passed her the crystal glass and they chinked them together.
“I’m frowning because of that stupid Anyanka. I wish you would’ve killed her when you had the chance.”
“I could say the same to you.”
“She was supposed to die after you killed that pet of hers. Something went wrong.”
“You didn’t have your full power back. There’s no way she could confront you now and live,” he soothed.
Yanka drank her vodka and sat down on a plush velvet chaise lounge. Vasilli brought the decanter with him and sat beside her. “What aren’t you telling me, Yanka? What happened with Baba Yaga the other night? You still haven’t told me about it, which means something went wrong,” Vasilli said with a touch of frustration in his voice. Her son was no fool but she sometimes wished he wasn’t so clever.
“It didn’t go wrong…as such. I made some excellent moves and they will be playing out. Tonight with Barsukov was one of them,” Yanka said vaguely.
“Was that why you sent me to Skazki to see that the old ones rose? Did you think they wouldn’t?”
“I wasn’t sure,” she admitted as she drank what was left in her glass. “A new player appeared on the board so I had to be sure what we had already played would be carried out.”
“A new player? But there hasn’t been a new player for centuries, not since you…” Vasilli’s black eyes shone with anger, “Do not tell me it is Anyanka.” Yanka didn’t say anything. There wasn’t anything she could say. “Why didn’t you tell me!” he roared and hurled the decanter at the nearest wall.
“Because you didn’t need to know! She doesn’t even know, and therefore it should be no concern of yours.”
“No concern? If she has
enough power to be a player, it means she has enough power to destroy me already! How could you let this happen?”
“I had nothing to do with it,” Yanka got to her feet. “When we met her in the Americas, she didn’t have that kind of power. How she acquired it so quickly I don’t know, but chances are, she doesn’t even know she has it herself.”
“The point is, she has it now,” Vasilli ran his hands through his hair. “What do we do to stop this?”
“You think I’m completely stupid? Why do you think I have been providing you with so many people to kill and take their magic? I was trying to get you on the board, and I will, my son, don’t worry about that. The game can’t continue without her and she has no idea about it which gives us time to get you a place.” She touched his cheek lightly and he flinched.
“What if she sides with Baba Yaga in the mean time? Then we are fucked.”
“Don’t be dramatic. She had enough sense not to side with Baba Yaga to begin with. Her opinions won’t have changed even with her hate of me.”
“What about her counterpart Vasya Melenko?”
“She is Illumination. Anya will not side with them either, not after she destroyed their facility.”
“They would want Aramis and she won’t hand him over for all the worlds,” Vasilli pointed out. Yanka frowned, clicked her fingers and a domovoii appeared with more vodka, the broken crystal and liquid cleaned quicker than the eye could follow. She refilled her glass.
“I don’t understand her attachment to him. I know how much power he has, he couldn’t even put an elvianth on with me. There’s no way he could have given Anya her new power or progressed it to such a level.”
“There must be someone else helping her. It might be wise to find out who, don’t you think? We don’t need any more fucking surprises.”
“It doesn’t matter. Events are in motion that she cannot stop.”
“You underestimate her like I did. If I’d known how much trouble she was going to cause me, I would’ve killed her the moment I met her.”
“She must be getting teaching from someone else and could only be fucking Aramis.”
“She isn’t you, mother, and she certainly isn’t fucking Aramis.”
“Oh, please, you’re a man, you don’t know these things.”
“She’d never choose Aramis over Yvan.”
“You and Baba Yaga put far too much stock in Yvan. Your little brother isn’t great or powerful.”
“He’s pathetically honourable though, and she protected him from the moment he hatched. There’s a bond there that you can’t deny or overlook. She controls Yvan, she controls the firebird.”
“We need to get you on the board before she works out how to use the firebird’s magic. I will call those whose magic will benefit you the most.”
***
Silvian inspected the new furnishings in his recently acquired Queen Anne. The owners had the sudden desire to sell when Silvian approached them with a winning smile and a healthy touch of magic.
The furniture had been tacky and Silvian had instantly hired workmen to get rid of the lot. Cerise, who knew all the finest antique dealers in town, had gone shopping and fitted out the house in a grand style that appealed to Silvian immensely. She needed to be distracted from her grief for Trajan, and Silvian was happy to let her do all the hunting and buying.
The upstairs master bedroom led out onto a fine balcony with black wrought iron fencing, so loved by the city. He could also see the back of Fox’s house and the property around it. This vantage point allowed him to see anybody lurking about her property, although he was positive she had her own surveillance systems established. She was impossibly clever for one so young. It was refreshing.
As if summoned, Fox appeared out of her back kitchen door and spotted him. He waved. She scowled and walked back in the house. Silvian chuckled. Despite her annoyance at now being his neighbour, he could see that he was growing on her. She had dumped a box of requested gear on his doorstep that morning and he had sent her flowers thanking her. They would work together for the greater good that Isabelle kept harping on about.
Isabelle had slipped easily into the role of fearless leader and Silvian was relieved that they hadn’t looked to him for answers. At the moment, he was watching the media and any lines of communication he could get access to. He had quite the file on Vasya Melenko and it was growing.
Everyone had opted out of calling Søren, so the thankless task had fallen to him. Silvian strolled back inside and made himself a Long Island Ice Tea to buy himself some time before he pulled out his phone and rang the number that Aramis had left with Harley. The Álfr weren’t exactly technophobes but it wasn’t something that they enjoyed, which is why he was surprised Søren answered after two rings.
“What?” came his unmistakable deep voice.
“Sæll Søren,” Silvian greeted calmly. He knew better than to try to be charming with Aramis’s surly twin.
There was a long silence before he finally answered. “Silvian, what do you want?”
“To give you information. Vasya Melenko, have you heard of her?”
“Of course.”
“Do you know who she really is?”
“Enlighten me.”
“Baba Yaga.” Silvian’s experience with the Álfr tongue wasn’t what it used to be, but Søren was definitely cursing.
“Do you think Ruthann knows?” he asked finally.
“You’re in a better position to ask him than myself. Aramis told me that the Álfr helped her capture Yanka, so we can assume that he does.”
“I wouldn’t be quick to make that assumption,” snapped Søren. “They aren’t allies though she has visited here before. We are neutral.”
“You’d want to check. You might be his favourite Dauđi Dómr but that doesn’t mean he’s going to tell you everything.”
“I never said that he did.”
“Can you get a message to Aramis about this please?” Silvian asked. “Anya needs to know.”
“She won’t take this well.”
“Anya hates both the Illumination and the Darkness. She will take it fine. Why are you so concerned?”
“I’m not.”
“It sounds like you are.”
“I don’t worry after Elenya. She’s the only one of them with any sense.”
“High praise coming for you.”
“Was there anything else?”
“No, but it’s been good talking to you, Søren. It has been too long since I’ve heard your frightening timbre.”
“And you still sound like a flamboyant dandy.”
“Guilty as charged. Please let me know if you learn anything that could be of use.”
“I will. Góðan aptan.” The line went dead and Silvian placed his phone on the black and white marble counter top.
“That sounded like it went well,” Fox said from the kitchen door.
“How did you get in here?” he demanded. She rolled her eyes.
“Your security is a bit shit. It wasn’t hard.”
“Long Island Ice Tea?” He held up the jug invitingly.
“As long as it doesn’t come with a side of roofies.”
“So suspicious! If you were really that concerned you wouldn’t be coming to visit me.”
“Your stupid card told me to come. What do you want?” Fox took the long chilled glass he offered her and sat down on one of the kitchen stools.
“I wanted to see how you feel about joining forces.”
“We already are, aren’t we?” Fox was frowning and he wondered if she would throw the glass at him when he got his proposal out.
“Well, yes we are, but I’m talking about combining your little dungeon with mine here.”
“I’m not following you.”
“I want to build a tunnel linking the houses and a base in the centre that the Conseil Neutres or anyone else knows nothing about.”
Fox’s face was blank for a full minute, “You want a war bunker?”
“Yes, I want to build a war bunker.”
“Joined by tunnels.”
“Yes, I thought it would be useful if either of the houses get attacked. It’s always wise to have an escape route.”
“Seems legit. I’m going to want my own codes though. A girl needs her privacy, but can I be the spanner in your works?”
“If you must,” Silvian sighed dramatically and refilled her glass.
“How do you expect to build such a thing without anyone noticing? You will need a construction team.”
“Magic,” he smiled.
“Literally or figuratively.”
“Literally.”
“Okay, how do you expect Frankie and the other jolly fuckers not to notice that kind of magic use?”
“They aren’t God, you know. My magic is old and my skill is fantastic. They won’t even know I’m doing it. Any other questions?”
“What’s going to happen with all the dirt?”
“Don’t worry about the dirt. I will put it somewhere unnoticeable.”
“Uh huh.”
“Anything else?”
Surprisingly, Fox’s face broke into a smile. “Can I watch?”
“Darling girl, I thought you’d never ask,” Silvian laughed.
***
Søren moved silently through the halls and walkways, slipping into the quiet of the gardens. He hadn’t approached Ruthann yet, but an uneasy feeling was filling him. He needed to talk to Aramis, and for that, he needed to go where no one would find him.
The tree had lost its white winter flowers but it was still beautiful. He sat down at its twisted base and tried to calm his racing heart. Ruthann would have to be a fool not to know that Vasya Melenko was really Baba Yaga. Ruthann was many things but he wasn’t an idiot. He’d always claimed neutrality for the Álfr, but never once did he meet or give advice to any Dark Ones. He closed his eyes and let the calm of the glade wash through and around him, the soft auras of the trees enfolding him. This place always gave him peace and was where he felt closest to Väliä. His feet started to burn, the heat travelling up his legs, filling him as he drew deeper into his meditation.
Rise of the Firebird Page 23