by Ally Carter
“Get up. Both of you,” she said. “Before you make me angry.”
Stefan actually cut his eyes at Logan. “I’m starting to understand why you didn’t reply to those letters.”
But it was a bad call because Logan was lunging for him again. “You don’t get to talk to her. Or look at her. Or—”
Maddie fired again, the sound filling the air and cutting him off.
Logan jumped to his feet, but Stefan sank lower. He sat in the snow, and all Maddie could think was that his rear was going to get wet. Maddie knew how important a dry rear was to a person’s well-being in Alaska, but this probably wasn’t the time to say so.
“You might as well kill me,” Stefan said.
“Okay,” Logan said, reaching for the gun.
Maddie jerked it away. “Logan!”
From his place on the ground, Stefan laughed again. “Are you going to kill me, little girl?”
“No,” Maddie snapped. “I’m going to tie you to a tree and make you smell like Taylor Swift and then wait for the bears to find you. They’ll do it, you know. You’ll be praying for a bullet.”
Stefan actually shrugged. “Okay.”
Logan was lunging toward Stefan again, shouting, “Do not tempt me.”
Maddie could barely hold him back, but she did. Her arms were around him, squeezing him tight. She tipped up her head and tried to look into his eyes. “Logan, let him tell us why.”
“I think we know why,” Logan said, but he wasn’t fighting Maddie anymore. She kept one arm around him, though. Just in case.
“Logan, look at me. There are at least a half dozen perfectly good reasons why someone would want the president’s son.” She brought a hand to the stubble on his cheek. “I want to hear what his reason is.”
When she turned back to Stefan the gun was in her hand, cold from the snow, but solid. She wanted to throw it off the edge of the cliff but knew that would be foolish. Weapons were important in Alaska, even under the best of circumstances. And these were far from ideal.
Stefan had turned his head to look out over the river. The waterfall must have been close, just around the bend, because Maddie could hear it like white noise in her head.
“Well?” Logan prodded.
Stefan turned back to them and looked up, like facing the sun. A shadow crossed his face when he studied Logan. Then he raised his gaze to the sky, to the real sun that was just starting to peak through the heavy clouds.
“Oh, are you running late?” Logan asked. “Please, don’t let me stop you if there’s someplace you need to be.”
“It’s too late now,” Stefan said. “You win. Is that what you want me to say?”
Maddie shook her head and held Logan back again. “I want you to tell us who they are, Stefan. Do they have your sister? Is it supposed to be some kind of trade? Logan for her?”
But the Russian stayed silent.
“Why?” Maddie asked. “The United States doesn’t negotiate with terrorists. Whatever they want Logan for, it won’t work.”
“This has nothing to do with your precious United States.”
For the first time, Stefan’s hands were shaking as he brought them to his face. Maddie had learned six years ago that any kind of animal can be dangerous if it’s hurting or if its young is in danger.
Stefan was both. And even though Maddie had the gun, she was terrified.
“Stefan, she’s okay. Wherever she is, wherever they have her, I’m sure she’s just fine. I’m sure she’s …”
It was the look in Stefan’s eyes that made Maddie trail off, forced her to turn around. She felt Logan turning, too, but he froze just as she lurched toward the man who was bent and bloody and stumbling from the trees.
“Dad?”
It wasn’t Maddie’s father. That much was obvious to Logan the moment the man stepped from the shade of the tall trees, out into the bright sunlight that reflected off the snow.
But Maddie wanted her father so badly, she was willing to believe in miracles. And it was a miracle, Logan had to remind himself. Just a different kind.
When Maddie slammed to a stop, Logan knew she must have realized who it really was.
“You. You’re not dead,” she blurted, even though Logan was pretty sure the forest ranger probably felt more dead than alive at that moment.
Maddie turned her back on Logan and Stefan and ran toward the ranger, who practically collapsed into her arms.
“Heard your shots,” he said.
“It’s okay. We’ve got you. You’re safe now.”
But the ranger’s gaze was locked on Stefan. Rage and pure hatred bloomed on his face, and Logan turned back to the man in the snow and saw a totally different expression: disbelief and also … fear.
“Step away from him, little girl,” Stefan warned.
“No!” Maddie snapped. She pouted. She did everything but stomp her foot, but the gun was still firmly in her grip so no one dared to tell her that she sounded like a child. Probably because she was also a child who was an extremely good shot.
“It’s okay. You’re okay.” Maddie spoke softly to the man. Like maybe he was an injured animal who might not realize she was there to help.
Blood covered his coat and he wasn’t terribly steady on his feet, but he was alive and on this side of the river. And when he told Logan, “Step away from that man,” his voice was strong and sure.
“It’s okay.” Maddie held up the gun. “We’ve disarmed him.”
“Good work,” the ranger said. “Now get over here,” he told Logan, but he never took his gaze away from the man in the snow.
The man who had shot him for no apparent reason.
“Are you okay?” Logan asked, but the ranger shook the question off.
“I should be asking the same of you.”
“I’m fine,” Logan said. Then he looked at Maddie. “We’re fine.”
“Good. That makes things easier.”
“Makes what easier?” Maddie asked.
Behind Logan, Stefan was yelling in Russian. “You may be alive. But you will never be a wolf!”
And just like that Logan was back in that long-ago corridor, listening to the echo of the very first words that Logan had translated from Russian into English: A boy is no match for a wolf.
Maybe it was Stefan’s words or Logan’s memory. Maybe it was the flash in the ranger’s eyes, the sign he’d understood the Russian’s threat. But more likely it was the tattoo that was peeking out from beneath the ranger’s sleeve: a two-headed bird in the clutches of a wolf.
A tattoo that Logan had seen once before.
“Maddie!” Logan and Stefan shouted at the same time, but it was too late. She was too close, her guard too low, and the man pulled her back against him and squeezed her tight, his own gun suddenly pressed to her temple.
Logan’s blood ran cold—but Maddie, being Maddie, groaned and said, “Not again.”
“You folks need some help?” This time the ranger’s words were too cheerful. He sounded borderline insane when he laughed. And when he spoke again, his too-friendly American voice was gone.
This time his accent was cold and hard and Russian.
“I knew you were a coward, Stefan, but you were a fool to try to save this girl as well. Now they’ll both die.”
Stefan was up, out of the snow and easing forward. “Let her go, Uri.”
“Drop it!” the man snapped, squeezing Maddie tighter. “Drop your gun and kick it away.” But Maddie just gripped and re-gripped the gun that was still in her hands.
Stefan inched slowly closer. “I have him, Uri. I have the president’s son, and I’m taking him to the meeting place now.”
“You must think me a fool!” Uri shouted.
“Let her go!” Logan roared.
“Logan,” Maddie warned.
“Don’t move, Mad Dog,” Logan said, turning as Uri pulled Maddie backward, easing toward the shelter of the trees. He probably didn’t even realize he was doing it. It was just natural in
stinct to seek cover.
“You will drop the gun,” Uri growled into Maddie’s ear.
“Do it, Mad Dog. It’s okay.”
“Logan …”
Was Maddie’s voice breaking? Was it all finally too much? Logan would rather be shot again than watch her shed a single tear.
“It’s okay, Mad Dog. Just drop the gun. It’ll be okay.”
But the two Russians probably didn’t hear a word of it. Stefan was inching closer and Logan didn’t know who to fear. Who to trust. Except for Maddie. He had always trusted Maddie.
But no matter how you counted it, this new Russian was outnumbered. It was just a matter of time.
“It’s gonna be okay,” Logan said, knowing that Maddie was more than capable of doing the math.
“I know it is,” she said.
“I’m here,” he told her, and watched her eyes go misty, because he was there. Logan was there and he was alive and he had carried her through a storm and bound her wounds.
He hadn’t written her a single letter, but he hoped his actions would say so much more than words.
“You were careless, Stefan,” Uri snapped. “You never should have let me live.”
“I never meant to, I assure you,” Stefan answered.
“What do you say, President’s Son? Should I shoot the man who took you first? Or should I kill the girl he should have let me kill yesterday?”
“You don’t need her!” Logan shouted, and Uri brought the gun to Maddie’s temple.
“I know.” Uri squeezed Maddie tighter. “Now drop your gun, little girl.” There was no doubt he was out of patience. Especially when he shifted his aim and turned the barrel toward Logan. “Now.”
“Logan?” Maddie said, the word a question: Do you trust me? Will you forgive me? Will you still like me once you see who I really am?
Logan shook his head, a warning. DON’T TRY IT, MAD DOG. But Maddie wasn’t listening, so he shouted, “Take me!”
“Oh, I intend to.” Then Uri spun. “Don’t move, Stefan.”
“I told you I was bringing them in,” Stefan said.
Uri laughed. “If that was your intention, you would have let me kill the girl yesterday instead of shooting me like a coward. You still think you can save everyone, Stefan. But you can’t save anyone.”
Uri looked down at Maddie. “Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”
“That’s okay,” Maddie said. “I’m kind of used to saving myself.”
Maybe it was her words that knocked him off guard. Or maybe it was the way her skull crashed into his nose. But in any case Uri was pointing his gun in Maddie’s direction in one moment and howling in pain the next.
Logan and Stefan watched, frozen, while she dropped to the icy ground and kicked at his legs, knocking him off balance.
The man was injured. Half starved and half frozen. But he was also half crazy with rage, and he came at her throat with both hands. Maddie didn’t think. She just turned and rolled onto her back and pointed her gun straight up toward the canopy of trees.
And fired.
Logan and Maddie had been walking through the woods for hours, listening to the crack of trees under the weight of too much ice. The breaking limbs sounded like gunshots, Logan had thought at the time.
So it was almost surreal to hear the report of the pistol and then the sharp crack of the tree.
Uri was still over Maddie, strangling and screaming. He must have thought her a moron to waste a shot. But that would have been his last thought for a long time, because when the ice-covered tree limb landed atop him, he didn’t move again.
“Maddie!” Logan screamed and ran toward her, but she was lost beneath the weight of the madman and the icy, heavy branch of the tree. Logan couldn’t even see her. Nothing moved.
“Maddie, are you … ? Maddie!”
“I’m fine. Just smushed.”
At her muffled shout Logan didn’t know whether to laugh or to scream.
And then he remembered Stefan.
Uri’s gun must have come loose in the struggle or the crash because when Logan turned he found Stefan stooping down into the snow. The gun was in his hands.
And Logan knew it was too late.
For a second he stood frozen in the snow and the ice and the sun that had finally decided to start shining. He looked at the man who had knocked Maddie down a hill and dragged Logan toward some unknown fate—the man who had left two Secret Service agents dead in Maddie’s cabin—and Logan had the sinking feeling that they were right back where they’d started.
But before he could lunge or strike out, Stefan tucked the gun into the waist of his jeans and looked at Logan.
“Let’s get her out of there,” he said.
“Okay?” The word came out as a question, and Logan couldn’t keep his gaze from slipping between Stefan and the gun.
“And then I’m going to tell you a story,” Stefan said.
“A story about what?”
“A wolf.”
It had been a long time since Logan had had one of the nightmares. For years, though, they’d come to him in the dark: eyes better to see him with, teeth better to eat him with. The wolf had been there every time he’d closed his eyes. And whenever the world got too still or too quiet, he’d hear them again: the Russian words that he hadn’t known the meaning to years ago, that he hadn’t been able to forget ever since.
A boy is no match for a wolf.
He looked at Stefan. And a part of him wanted to growl.
But Maddie didn’t have that problem.
“So …” she let the word draw out as she sat on a fallen log, legs crossed, like maybe she had just ordered a milk shake, like maybe this was the most ordinary thing in the world and she hadn’t just hog-tied a rogue Russian to a tree. She actually took a moment to examine her nails. “Go ahead, Stefan. Tell us a story. Just make it a good one.”
Behind her, Uri groaned, but Maddie must have had no doubts in her knot-tying ability because she didn’t even turn around. She just kept staring up at the man who had tried to kill her, waiting as if they had all day.
“Six years ago, three men tried to take the first lady of the United States.”
“We are aware,” Maddie said. She gestured with her gun, a get-to-the-good-part gesture if Logan had ever seen one. But Stefan was deliberate as he talked on.
“You may think that is where the story begins, but in truth it started long before that day at the White House. Long before your father was the president. Long before any of us even existed. In a way, this all began more than eighty years ago, when a child was born in a Russian prison. Some say that he was kept there—in the prison, raised by two hundred mothers who were all criminally insane. But others swear that the guards did not want the responsibility of an infant, so they drew straws, and the loser took the baby to the woods—left him to be raised by the wolves.”
“Stefan,” Maddie said, “I really don’t want to shoot you. But I will, you know. Right through the shoulder, make us nice and even.”
But, to Stefan, it was like she hadn’t spoken at all.
“My grandfather used to tell me stories from when he was a boy. In the coldest part of winter, he and his siblings would huddle in their beds, listen to the wolves howl, and wonder how one of the wolves could sound so human.”
“The point, Stefan!” Maddie was up and stalking toward him. She was no longer laughing, not teasing. They were all cold and hungry and ready for the ordeal to be over, and Logan wondered if it might finally be impatience that got the best of her.
“They named him Boris, this boy, because, of course Boris means—”
“Wolf,” Logan said.
“I know how it sounds. I know the stories are no doubt mostly myth, legend. But the man is real—of that much I am certain. And all legends are at least a little bit true. The people of my grandfather’s village used to swear the child was feral, but he was also smart and ruthless. He was a boy when the war came. He was a young man as the Soviets rose,
a man in his prime when they fell. He was born with nothing, but all it takes to rise to power is the willingness to do that which another will not.”
Stefan paused and looked from Maddie to Logan, held his gaze.
“There was nothing the Wolf would not do. He had no family. No home. He was beholden only to his greed and his never-ending quest for power. Until … Until he had a son.”
Logan blinked and shook his head. The chill that ran down his spine had nothing to do with the cold.
“But the son wanted to be more than his father. More powerful. More wealthy. But, most of all, more feared. So he hatched a plan. He became obsessed with walking into the White House and taking the wife of the most powerful man in the world.”
Logan remembered the man who had winked at him in the corridor, his tattoo and his words.
A boy is no match for a wolf.
“Da,” Stefan said, and Logan realized he’d spoken aloud and in Russian.
“The plan was foolish, the risk not worth the reward. The Wolf knew that, and he forbade his son from taking such a stupid chance. But his son was full of bluster. And his son had a friend who was as arrogant and foolish as he was. So the two of them recruited another gun and … you know the rest.”
“So this is revenge?” Maddie, of course, had to cut right to the heart of the matter. “The Wolf lost his son, so he’s going to take the president’s son and call it even? Are we in old-school eye-for-an-eye territory? Is that it?”
“Yes. And no.” Stefan was shaking his head, as if there were too many secrets in there and they were warring with each other, trying to get out. “The Wolf is sick. Dying. And without a son—an heir—he needs to make sure his legacy lives on.” Stefan pointed at where Uri sat bound to the tree. “That man hoped to be his successor.”
“And what are you?” Logan asked. “What was I, some kind of pawn? Some kind of test? Whoever brings me back first wins, is that it?”
“No. I’m the brother of the man who talked his son into defying him. So I must be made to suffer, too.”
“Your sister,” Maddie said, filling in the blank.
“She needs medicine. Without it, she will die, too. I had one chance to save her. All I had to do was bring the boy to the Wolf and I could have my sister and my family’s debt would be erased.” Stefan laughed the laugh of someone who doesn’t find anything funny at all. “The best thugs in Russia, he has at his disposal, but he chooses me to do this thing because he wants to make as many people suffer as possible.”