“Was there ever a doubt?” I had doubted it all along. Still did. Svetlana offered a vague, nondescript gaze, which I had come to recognize as being deliberately, deceptively thought-free. It meant she was avoiding unpleasant truth.
“What?” I said.
“We did come rather close to major disaster. On the first day we met, I figured I'd have to kill you.” She patted my hand, glad it was behind us. I wasn't sure it was. We had come close to fighting to the death, and still might have to. I wasn't keen on my chances, provided I even saw her coming.
“Harsh,” I said.
“Exitus acta probat, Kaid. The end justifies the deed.” A shrug accompanied her delicate smile. “Peter argued with me. Asked me not to kill you. He resents collateral damage and worried Davey would suffer. In the least, the boy wouldn't have forgiven us, and Peter wasn't ready to lose him. Do you know how fortunate it was that I decided to visit you at your home? How serendipitous that Peter saw him? Because of Davey, Peter never relented in his pursuit of peaceful diplomacy. If not for them, my arrival would be referred to as the Phoenix Wolf Massacre, wherein all of Erik and Iago's supporters would have been killed to expedite my coalition. History changed, all because of one pretty artist and a soft-hearted romantic.”
“A war stopped by love?” I snickered. “Sounds like a bad movie.”
“Mm-hmm,” said the creature who had been dead three days.
Could I ever trust her? Sadly, yes. It was her, through and through, despite vampire or wolf blood. Svetlana knew where love belonged, where fear and hate belonged, where murder belonged. She was practical enough to call a spade a spade and keep on living. Even after her death.
“Peter was right about you,” I said. “You are incorrigibly willful.”
“Believe it.” She rubbed her face with her palm.
“You must be tired. I can't imagine what it feels like to rise from the dead.”
“I am tired. Especially now Alexei is dead—finally, thoroughly dead—I feel like I can finally get a good night of rest. But I don't want to sleep yet. I want to see Davey and Peter. I want to know they aren't playing sacrificial games.” She patted the bed beside her. I was the only one left in the room and had no reason not to slide under the covers. We were both exhausted and I remained fully dressed. What could happen? She smiled as I nestled beside her. Her hip was cool to the touch. Her eyes fluttered as she tried to stay awake. She settled her head on her pillow and reached for my hand, her motion so slow it seemed like a mirage.
“Kaidlyn Durant,” she said. “Where are your guns?”
My hand jerked and reached for my Jerichos which weren’t there. I hadn't put them on. Through all this, I had forgotten the trusty firearms.
“Christ,” I said.
I was infected. I'd completely forgotten the circumstances that led her to bite the shit out of me. Goddamn woman contaminated me! This would be a good time to shoot her in the face if I had a freaking gun.
No wonder I was ravenous. “You bitch.”
“It's not the end of the world.”
The complications arising from my contamination would be insurmountable. At the very least, I'd have to take Xen. With my temper, no way I lasted a week without crazy sedatives.
Footsteps came rapidly down the hall, and a scent of chamomile and acrylic paints soared into the room. Davey saw Svetlana, the live pink flesh of her, and his jaw fell down. “Good Lord.”
Peter stood behind him, holding sacks of food.
She patted the bed. Davey approached slowly, like a fawn aware of danger. Svetlana touched his hair. Her hands were steady. He reached, and his fingertips brushed her face. She must have been warm enough, alive enough, to satisfy his anxiety. He released a breath.
“My God. What happened? What did you do?”
“Nothing,” she said, the biggest understatement ever. His hand trembled while he touched her face.
“Boo,” she said, and he flinched. She laughed, and he gave her a little push.
“That was so mean. You’re really alive?”
“Cogito ergo sum. I think, therefore I am.”
“How are you feeling?”
“Like I could eat the mattress and sleep for a year.”
“He brought food.” Davey refused to look at Peter.
“Did he apologize profusely?” she said.
Davey shrugged.
Svetlana clicked her tongue. “The thing about Peter is that he can be immensely difficult and rather stubborn. He can be so happy about something, yet he forgets to stop hopping with glee and simply appreciate its value.”
“I'm standing right here,” Peter said.
“Good. Keep standing there.” Svetlana kept her eyes on Davey. “Sometimes, men think they're acting with their heart, but really, they're being dull-witted.”
Davey fought a smile. “Dull-witted, you say? That's the same as ignorant, right? And foolish? Dopey? Slow? Brainless?”
“Vacuous,” she said.
“You have a wonderful grasp of the language.”
“Why, thank you.”
“Alright!” Peter said, “I'm sorry, okay? I wasn't thinking. I worried Svetlana was forever and ever dead! Can you stop berating me?”
“No,” Svetlana said. “I don't think you've apologized enough.”
Peter dropped the food in my lap and crouched by the bed.
“Davey—” he said. Svetlana's arms came around and grabbed Davey, pulling him onto the bed.
“Too late!” she said. “He's mine now!”
Peter leaped up and straddled them both. “I'll fight you for him,” he promised. She laughed, winked at Davey. They both rose up and pushed Peter off the bed. He landed on the ground with thunk and pretended to pout. Davey shook his head, not falling for it. Peter got to his knees and leaned into Davey. “I'm sorry.”
“How sorry?” Davey said.
“Completely and utterly.”
“Don't ever do that to me again.”
“Absolutely not.” Peter kissed Davey. Softly, at first, then like the world depended on it. Davey kissed him back, a half-angry kiss. I cleared my throat. They looked at me.
“Svetlana hasn't eaten in a week and she's been dead for days. Show some respect and give the poor woman her food. Don't forget mine while you're at it.”
Svetlana sat up so fast she put a hand to her head. “Whoo!”
“Ljubonvnik?” Peter said. “Are you well?”
“Da. What did you get?”
“Kentucky fried chicken and Dunkin' Donuts. Welcome to America.” He kissed her but held the food behind his back. She growled at him. “What?” he said. “What's that you're saying? You'll have to speak up. I'm a little vacuous.”
“Pest! Give me the food!”
He chuckled and handed her one of the bags. Svetlana tore into a chicken leg and passed the bag to Davey. Peter ruffled my hair and kissed my forehead. Everyone was acting extremely comfortable and relieved. Disaster averted. “Help yourself,” he said. Fortunately, he brought enough for everyone, and I wolfed down a lion's share of chicken. The sun started coming up, blinking through the shades. We munched in silence for a while.
“I have a conference with Kiev,” Svetlana said.
“Two days ago,” Peter said.
“I need to go to Montreal.”
“Cebylle went for you,” he said.
“But—”
“Your opinion on these matters is irrelevant, considering you were dead three hours ago,” Peter said. “The entire lykos community is in an uproar, equality legislation has appeared in Parliament, the house is at ground level, not to mention Adena needs a new car, Averill wants piano lessons, Alden won’t stop hacking into porn sites, and Vadik needs a job that doesn’t involve pole dancing. You don't get to argue decisions I made while you played dead.”
Svetlana chuckled. She finished off a chicken breast, drank the remainder of her tea, and patted her belly. She sighed, smiling, looking half drunk.
“Don't fa
ll asleep yet,” Peter said. “You haven't eaten any of the donuts.”
She gave a noncommittal moan and nestled against him. “How is Josef handling Moscow?”
“It can wait.” He kissed her head and tucked the blanket around her.
“Svetka,” Peter whispered. She mumbled something in Russian that I didn't understand. From the look on Peter's face, it didn't make sense to him, either.
“What did she say?”
“Something about giving the dog a peanut butter hat. She's probably dreaming.”
“You think she'll be okay?” Davey whispered.
I shrugged. “She looks coherent, like herself. Her memory seems okay. She ate real food. I think she should be fine.”
“When I first saw her, I don't know what I thought. People don't really rise from the dead, do they? I mean, vampires are real, so I guess they can rise from the dead, but…shit. I mean, if that can happen, what can't? It's like physics don't apply anymore.”
“Just because we can't explain it doesn't mean it's a miracle. She's truly alive. Her body is producing new blood, consuming real food. A freshly raised corpse craves only blood; Svetlana wanted fried food.”
“After all this time, she should have been brain dead,” Davey mused. “The brain starts to deteriorate after a few minutes without oxygen.”
“But she had her head, her heart, and her will,” Peter said. “You can't kill a vampire without destroying the head and heart. Maybe even though the wolf died for a moment, the vampire blood sustained her. And her will is like a thing of gods. Plus, she knew how Alexei can work blood. With knowledge and conviction, she may have been better equipped to be dead than most people.”
“Well-equipped to be dead? There's an interesting idea.” I wasn't sure we’d ever know for certain what had happened.
Sakura entered with a perfume of ammonia and cherries. Having a sociopath in my house made my hackles rise. Erik was hot on her heels. Svetlana woke instantly.
“Svetlana,” Sakura said. “When are we leaving?”
“Three days,” she said.
“That's foolishness,” Peter said. “It is too soon to fly. We can set up a phone conference. You won't even have to leave the comfort of your bed.” He smiled like he was already making plans concerning the 'bed' part. Svetlana looked pained. Dread covered her face.
She said, “Peter, I'm leaving.”
The entirety of her kennel stilled, breathless.
“For a week or so?” Davey said.
Svetlana shook her head.
“Svetka, what are you doing?” Peter said.
“What I said I would do, ljubimyj.”
Erik remembered. “You promised us you wouldn't stay.”
She nodded. I remembered her saying she'd leave, several times actually, but when she kissed my face I didn’t think it was a goodbye. It felt like we'd be talking about it tomorrow. Peter laughed, lifting his hands. “This is foolish. Erik, come now. Kaidlyn? This is foolish.”
Svetlana said, “Peter, let's not do this. I will be leaving as the negotiations required. Before I even arrived, you knew I would leave. You became so excited I was alive you forgot it wouldn't have mattered. Peter, you heard me give my word.”
He grabbed her arms and shook her. “Don't you dare. Don't you dare think you can leave us. Svetka, you cannot return from the grave only to walk away from us. You cannot.”
“You heard me, Peter. You supported me. Did you think I would lie? Did you think I never meant it? Don't be a fool.”
He slapped her. The mark glared from her temple to her chin. “I wish you had stayed dead!”
Blood stained the side of her mouth. “No,” she said. “You don't.”
Peter raked his hands through his hair. “Fuck this.” He turned on his heel. His boots pounded across the room until Erik barred his path.
“Stay,” Erik said, like Peter was an ill-behaved puppy. Peter's face wore the focus of a crazy man who finally located the perfect target. Kill the kennel master and Svetlana can stay. Eliminate the competition, and she won't have to keep a promise to a dead man. Peter grabbed Erik's skull and head-butted him.
Erik roared, blood coming from his nose. Peter didn't back down. He started swinging, and he knew what he was doing. He wasn't merely big, strong, and pissed off. He knew the soft spots, nerve clusters, and ways the body simply should not move. If Erik had been under the impression that Peter was a weaker man because he kissed men, he was about to have his mind changed for him.
The dervish of violent manflesh crashed through my wall, clearing a space and showering debris. Blood splattered the tile before any of us could get to them. Davey rose, but I grabbed his arm. “Stay out of it.”
Something broke. Maybe my house, maybe their bones. “Jesus!”
I got up and charged the two. “Stop, you assholes!” I tried to shoulder my way between them—a bloody miracle they didn't catch me with an elbow or a fist—but they were committed to pounding the shit out of each other. Erik threw me back, out of the way. I flew, but Svetlana caught me. She set me aside and walked toward the two men. Taking her sweet time. She grabbed them by the throat, one in each hand, and separated them.
She yelled, “Stop! You are done!” They tried to push through her. She held her ground, fending off two large men. Peter had knocked Erik's hair from the ponytail, and it flew in a disheveled mass around his face. His skin flushed with anger and the blows they’d exchanged. Both bled.
“Now, you two boys will sit down and behave yourselves. If you're intent on playing these silly games, play them later when I am not so tired.”
Svetlana took a step away.
“A promise is a promise,” she said. “You have no right to change it, Peter. This doesn't mean I don't love you.”
“How can you?” Davey said. “How can you say things like that and then walk away? It doesn’t make any sense. If this is some type of lesson, some kind of punishment, it is misplaced.”
“No joke,” Vadik said.
“I am waging dual wars,” Svetlana said. “Vampires are snapping at my jugular across the globe, and I cannot play nice with the neighborhood boys in their clubhouse. I am not a lapdog; I am an autocrat. You don’t know what the word means, let alone how to deal with me. I have much work to do. I have genocides to halt and heads to tear off. The war against the vampires will happen. I will not tolerate a world that forces my children to live and breathe in blood.”
She pointed at Erik. “And don’t pretend you’d welcome me! Don’t tell me you want to rescue all the little Red spies and open your arms to ‘them Russians.’ And you all thinking you are the best and the biggest, saying, 'oh, look how America is the land of the free and we are so mighty.' Well, I have news for you! We have the power to change this, us, the people in this room. But my greatest allies are too busy flexing their biceps and measuring their cocks. Stop wasting my time. Furthermore, I will not be told my words and vows have no honor!”
Erik pointed at her, victorious. “That’s precisely what I’m getting at.”
She glared at him.
“This, leaving your children here, is a disaster.” Erik said, “It’s a cold war waiting to happen. You aren't simply stepping back, Svetlana, you're opening graves. Look how Peter reacted at the thought of losing you, and he has only a fraction of your rage. Once upon a time, he stopped you from slaughtering us. Yes, I heard. He’s your conscience. What will you be capable of if he isn’t with you? Who will you become? Don’t forget, we know your capacity for violence. The bodies of your enemies have decorated my streets. Pair that cruelty with a will so absolute it defies a vampire’s death? You’re not going anywhere. I need your firepower on my team. And even more importantly, if you ever change your mind about our peace, I want to see it coming.”
“I promised—”
“Yes, yes. Promises were exchanged. And what now? When you're bitter and alone, you'll look back at us and remember how we took your kennel, your children, and your loves. You'll be i
n Russia, scowling across the ocean, cursing us. You'll want me to suffer. Maybe not immediately, but eventually, you will put people into graves over this. You and I may have avoided one battle, but another waits in the wings. If I let you walk away, you will return in force. I cannot allow it.”
She rolled up her sleeves. “Then come finish it,” she said, in a lullaby voice, as if she was talking to a child. “Come, mutt. Play your cards.”
“I'm not a fool. At the slightest trouble, you will cut us out of the coalition.”
“What do you think to give, you poor devil? Show me the fruit that rots before you pick it.”
“But, my good friend, there will also come a time when we shall want to feast upon something good in tranquility,” Erik said. “Faust.”
I was surprised, but not nearly as much as Svetlana. Her brow wrinkled. “Are you challenging me or not?”
“I propose a bargain,” he said. “An insurance policy, if you will. You promise to spend at least four months of the year in Phoenix, or I will not accept your peace. If you leave me here to clean up our mess, I will gather your mutts to me and organize my own resistance, and I’m sure to fuck it up.”
She put her hands on her hips and pivoted. “I do not like ultimatums.”
“Not an ultimatum, it's penance. You ruined one of our best assets. Kaidlyn was our most likely avenue to mutt equality. You promised peace and then you contaminated her. Therefore, you owe us.”
“Dude, I am not ruined—” I started.
“Shut up, woman,” he said. “I'm making a damned good point. Svetlana promised not to harm our people or interfere with our private kennels. In contaminating you, she violated both promises, and we hereby hold her responsible for wrongdoing. Penance for which will be time spent here, with us. Svetlana, you ate the pomegranate seeds, and now you're part of both worlds, whether you want it or not. There isn't a safer way. This coalition will secure our collective future.”
“Erik, happy endings are only the pauses between disasters,” Svetlana said.
He crossed his arms. “Your children will assimilate, and you will witness it. There is no need to separate you from your love ones or your country. If you leave empty-handed, there will be problems. Incurable problems. If you stay here, the conversation doesn't have to end. We can resolve issues, answer questions, ask questions, and become a working team. If you leave, our peace is dead. More children will die. Maybe not yours; they are all so strong now, even Vanya. But this is war and children will die. If you want to stop that, you will ally yourself with us.”
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