by Sara Kimball
Raisa came over, hugging her tightly. “Don’t mention it.” Then, her hands still clasped on Alex’s shoulders, she leaned back. “I’m sure I’ll be seeing more of you.” And she left just as she arrived, in a breeze of fresh air and sunshine.
From the Journal of Elizabeth Harcourt, 1713
David died today. My third child. He was sweet and kind, devoted to his violin and his books. He joined us for a hunt today, we had all decided to go out for my birthday. And the moose got him. Just charged, and my poor boy, he was gone.
I put him in his best suit and we moved him out to the fields, placing his violin and his favorite book next to him, and covered him in wood, lighting his funeral pyre as darkness claimed the sky.
Chapter 3
Two Years Later
Alex watched as the eight men filed in the back door towards the dining room. They didn’t come often, but when Lorenzo’s ‘associates’ came for dinner it was a pain in her ass. It was Tuesday and the restaurant was closed on their routine day off. The rest of the wait staff was at home presumably, or out enjoying themselves. Alex was the only one that got the privilege of helping out—and mostly because she lived above the restaurant and had no life. Although, I do that on purpose, so I can’t really complain.
In all the time Alex had lived in the busy city, she had explored very little, too afraid of getting spotted by another wolf and having her whereabouts reported to her brother. Instead, Alex worked, she went to stores to buy food and other necessities, and she had been shopping a few times for clothing at the secondhand stores.
On rare occasions when she needed to appease her wolf, Alex wandered through Central Park—but even then she couldn’t change into her wolf form, so those visits were often short and more frustrating than helpful.
A couple of months after moving into the apartment above the restaurant Alex had been lounging about—contemplating whether or not to re-read a book or take a nap. She had heard a commotion below her and went to investigate, in case someone was breaking in. Lorenzo had intercepted her and re-assured her everything was fine, while trying to usher her out the door quickly. Unfortunately, she was spotted, and the suspicious man had threatened both her and Lorenzo without wasting breath to think first. He seemed like the kind of man who knew how to make bodies disappear.
“So help me Lorenzo, if you brought someone here to spy on us you’ll both be dead.” The words were whispered, but the vitriol evident all the same.
Alex’s wolf had been ready to spring, but Lorenzo had blustered their way through it. He had chastised the man for being rude to his waitress, and then explaining that he had asked Alex to help out during the meeting. She thought it obvious he was lying, but the man seemed to believe Lorenzo and that was all that mattered. From then on, Alex was always asked to help out for meetings. She didn’t mind it most days since it was a more interesting way to pass the time.
The restaurant tables were re-arranged into a ‘U’ shape so the men could talk and eat. One of the cooks came in and Alex helped him make the simpler stuff—salads and appetizers and the like—before loading her tray and bringing it out. The first time she had served them, the men had been reluctant to talk in front of her, and Alex had stayed in the kitchen, only coming out to serve. Now they were less reluctant but she still hid in the kitchen as much as she could. She didn’t want to know what they were talking about, because then she could pretend to not know anything if asked.
Tonight was a little different than all the previous times, as a ninth man accompanied all the regulars. He was older, with silver hair and a wrinkled face, Slavic in origin. For all that he appeared old however, he was still spry. Lorenzo welcomed him warmly and sat him at the center of the ‘U’, pouring him a glass of wine and calling him uncle. Alex shivered as she realized she was about to serve ‘The Boss’.
Disappearing into the kitchen to grab breadsticks, she returned to distribute them. She was generally ignored as conversation around the table began. The silver-haired man was clearly in charge, all discussion dropped off the moment he spoke, everyone listening intently. Alex felt a little tingle of unease that she was serving a real life mob boss. Although, she would admit that their discussions were more business-like than murdering-people-like, which was a bit of a let-down to her imagination. She had thought they would be talking about who to whack left, right and center. Instead, they were talking about business investments. Granted, the investment was probably something illegal, but it was still a rather dry topic. She also noted that while Lorenzo was Italian, the boss was not. He had a distinctive Russian accent. When Alex had first realized Lorenzo was laundering money, she had envisioned the classic movie-style Mafioso for ‘The Boss’. Instead, she found a bunch of hardened men determined to make money and acquire power—even if it meant going against the law.
Laughing at herself for her wild imaginings, Alex returned to the kitchen and loaded her tray with the large platter of spaghetti, several smaller baking dishes around the edges loaded with tender, juicy meatballs in bubbling grease drippings. She headed to the dining area and was just rounding the edge of the table to place the spaghetti in front of Lorenzo to serve when the front door burst open and four rather nefarious looking men came in, guns in hand. They froze when they saw Alex in front of them, between the table and the men, holding a tray of spaghetti with her jaw dropped open like an idiot.
The guns clearly indicated that the men were there for no good purpose, but Alex plastered on a large smile and tried to diffuse the situation. “Sorry gentlemen, but the restaurant is closed for a private event. If you would kindly leave.” The men before her shifted their weight and looked at each other briefly. One man, the closest to her, spoke derisively.
“Better run, little bitch, or you’ll be dead too.” He had a heavy Russian accent, and began to raise his gun. Up until then, the men behind Alex were mostly still, but she heard them begin to move to defend themselves as well, drawing guns from their concealed places behind backs or in shoulder holsters. In the blink of an eye, Alex’s wolf took hold, realizing she could get killed and deciding to help. Rather than changing into her wolf form in the middle of strangers, she felt her eyes glow yellow as her wolf’s instincts commanded her human body. Who better to help us than ourselves.
While Alex usually pretended that trays of food were heavy, and was careful not to show how easy they were for her to lift compared to the other staff. But tonight the wolf shook off all the precautionary restrictions Alex had barred her from doing and shot to the forefront. She felt her eyes glow amber and a growl sounded in the back of her throat.
There was shouting behind her and rustling, but Alex was faster. Throwing the tray of steaming hot spaghetti onto the furthest man from her, she grabbed the hand of the one closest to her and twisted, feeling bones crack, until his hand was facing the other way. He pulled the trigger of the gun he held in the process and shot the floor, though not before the bullet hit his friend in the leg. He dropped the gun and screamed in pain.
Alex smelled the blood from the bullet wound and stepped forward, kicking her spiky heels viciously and driving the knee of the already shot man sideways. Grabbing the man’s gun when it started to swing towards her, she turned the barrel to the side and pulled the gun out of his hands. Swinging quickly, Alex cold cocked him in the forehead with it, knocking him out. The third man was screaming incoherently about burns, and the fourth man was standing there, mouth open in stunned disbelief, but when she turned to him she felt his terror. He tried to pull his gun up to shoot her, but Alex was already there, breaking his arm at the elbow and kicking his gun away. Turning back to the screaming man, whose face and neck were covered in angry red welts—a combination of the hot food and pasta sauce burning him—she decked him, and he fell down with a loud thump, out cold.
It was the first time Alex had slackened the reins on her wolf since running away from home. She was careful to only ever change in her tiny apartment, not going for a run in wolf form or lett
ing her wolf be dominant. The rush of feeling she got from being free—from being herself—was intoxicating. She threw her head back and nearly howled with delight and joy, but her wolf muzzled her, the result being a choked, gasping cough. Her wolf saw Lorenzo as family, but everyone else she still considered a potential enemy, and she didn’t feel safe exposing herself in front of all of them any more than necessary. Internally, Alex was glad her wolf had been able to control the urge, but externally she felt like swearing as she took a moment to regain her normal breathing.
Clapping sounded behind her, echoing oddly in the sudden silence filling the rest of the room. Alex blinked and felt her wolf slip back, allowing her to at least look normal again as she turned and faced the rest of the room. Only one man was clapping, the boss. The others, including Lorenzo, stood frozen. Several had their guns out but were holding them as if at a loss of what to do with them. On the floor were the four attackers, two unconscious and two groaning in pain. All four had very serious injuries, and the one with the broken wrist was trying to crawl his way to the door. Alex put her foot on his leg and pressed. He choked on his scream and cried silently. “Stay.” She commanded, and then turned to the others.
Raising her eyebrows in uneasy hesitation, she waited for one of them to help. When no one moved, Alex tried being more direct, gesturing to the men on the floor beneath her. “Any minute now, gentlemen.” Everyone stood at once, and before long were tying the attackers up with baking string, which was brought out of the kitchen by the cook.
Lorenzo, looking flushed and worried, pulled Alex away from the commotion and whispered in her ear. “Go to your apartment, shower. Put your clothes, shoes, everything in a garbage sack and stay there. I’ll be up to get you in a few.”
Alex nodded and realized for the first time that the men she had hurt were probably going to die. But she knew she couldn’t have done anything else. Lorenzo was Pack to her. And while the other men weren’t, she couldn’t let them be harmed when she had a way to stop it. Be careful what you wish for. I was hoping for excitement and I think I got too much.
As she was walking down the hall to the back alley she heard the boss talking to Lorenzo softly about the possibilities of Alex working for him. “No one would suspect a little woman of being so quick and strong. She could be our best secret. Dress her up, she would look like an escort, but would be a deadly weapon.” Alex shuddered at being used in such a manner. She had relished letting her wolf out. And undoubtedly those men had come tonight with a plan to kill everyone in the restaurant, but it didn’t mean that Alex was willing to be turned into a mob assassin. She had only acted on instinct to protect those she cared about and herself. Her thoughts turned serious as she walked up the stairs to her apartment.
///
It was nearly an hour later when Lorenzo came to her door. He collected the bag of her clothing and tossed it down to another man in the dark, who added it to the trunk full of bodies—Alex thought they were still alive, for the moment anyway—and took off. She had heard them questioning the men through the floor of her apartment, and knew that they were probably more injured now than they had been when she’d left. Or at least the screams of agony seemed to indicate that.
Lorenzo turned back to face her, and she worried that he would think less of her, but realized all she saw on his face was worry. He motioned her to go inside but did not follow her.
“Stay here for a little bit. I’ll come back.”
“Wait. Those men…did I do the right thing?” Doubt was still eating her up inside, even though logic told her that it was either her or them.
“Yes Alex. They were sent to kill the boss, Ivan—my wife’s uncle—and I’m sure they would have taken care of all the witnesses too…” Lorenzo spat over the railing. “Fucking Russians. They argue among themselves just as much as they argue with others.” Collecting himself, he said again, more urgently, “Just wait here, I’ll come back.”
Alex nodded, locking the door and sitting back down on the futon. She already had her bags packed and ready to go, but wanted to wait to say goodbye. She knew she couldn’t stay and let herself be used by the mob, but she would miss the people she had come to care about. It was going to be exceptionally hard to start all over again, but this time she had a new identity, more money, and the confidence of knowing that if she did it once she could do it again.
Several hours after everything had quieted down, she heard the squeaking of footsteps on the stairs, and moved to the door. Alert, Alex watched through the peep hole as Lorenzo approached her apartment, another man dressed in a suit behind him.
Without waiting for them to knock, Alex opened the door and let them in. She realized she had seen the man with Lorenzo before but didn’t remember from where. Silently, they sat on the futon and Alex sat on a broken dining chair that she had purloined from the restaurant. She sniffed the air and detected that Lorenzo was nervous, the other man was calm, however. HIs scent was faint, and she couldn't recall having smelled it before.
Lorenzo was the first to break the silence, clearing his throat and then shaking his head. He rubbed his hand at the nape of his neck, which Alex recognized as a sign he was distressed. “Alex. You aren’t safe here anymore. I know you were running from someone before, but you can’t stay here. I don’t just want to turn you loose though. Because I can help.” He glanced to the man sitting next to him, whose stony face gave nothing away. “I contacted an acquaintance of mine and called in a favor. He’s going to help get you away, get a new identity, and work somewhere where you can be safe. From the boss and your other—” he slid a look at the other man “—problem.” Lorenzo didn’t say anything about the fake identification he had showed up with a month after she had begun working for him. Alex Cannon had become Alex Jenkins with no fanfare. He hadn’t even let her pay him for the documents. And since Lorenzo didn’t mention that, Alex took her cue from him and didn’t mention it either.
Looking at the other man, Alex tilted her head in curiosity about his involvement. She realized she had seen him with Lorenzo on the first day she had walked into the restaurant looking for work. He was dressed in a gray suit this time, but she was pretty sure he had on the same blue tie. His shoes were cheap and scuffed, but he had an air of authority about him. She wondered what he did for the mob that made Lorenzo trust him.
Although she was about to pry, opening her mouth to ask who the other man was, her question became instantly redundant when he pulled out a slim wallet and flipped it open. Inside was a shiny badge and an ID, ‘FBI’ in nice, clear lettering next to his name, Arthur Davis. Alex blinked and looked at Lorenzo curiously. He smiled softly and shook his head. “I’m getting too old to be worried about the axe falling on my neck every other day. And I don’t want my daughter having to live under that kind of shadow. It’s taken some time. A long time, to get enough information. But right now they are all being pulled over. I’m sure the police and the FBI will be more than happy when the people in the trunk are discovered.”
Lorenzo rubbed the back of his neck again, and then looked at her. “Though I should tell you that it was him seeing you and talking about some past murders that will probably help them make a case to keep him in prison this time. He couldn’t help but talk about how much of a difference you would have made taking out a couple of rivals back in the day. From there, it was easy to get him to talk about some details and he even ordered those men tortured. And helped too—” he shuddered, then looked up and seemed to realize where he was and who he was talking to. The FBI agent and Alex were staring at him. Flushing, he looked down and shook his head. “Sorry. I’m not—not used to that kind of stuff. I just wanted to run a restaurant. My bad luck my wife’s uncle is who he is, and took an interest in my business to get his money laundered. Up until now all that I’ve seen is the money.” Clearing his throat, Lorenzo made a motion with his hand that seemed to indicate he was putting that to the side, and continued, looking at Alex.
“My family is going to
go into witness protection, I’ll testify, and part of the deal I made was that you would be safe too. Agent Davis here has agreed to move you somewhere safe tonight. He even has a friend that owns a bodyguard service and he thinks they will hire you.” He chuckled ruefully. “Protecting people seems to be more up your alley than waitressing. For such a little thing you pack a mean punch.” Alex shared a smile with him, a bittersweet feeling inside of her. She knew she would miss Lorenzo’s jovial manner and brusque personality.
Agent Davis chose that moment to chime in. “Lorenzo told me what you did, disarming and subduing those four men. We believe they were sent to kill Ivan Kuznetsov and his associates. Under the circumstances, no charges will be filed against you, as your actions are clearly a case of self-defense and defense of others.”
Lorenzo added, “Ivan told me after you went upstairs that his rival, Maksim Sokolov, was probably trying to get rid of him. Apparently they had a falling out a while ago. Something about Sokolov’s mistress.”
“She took some documents about Sokolov’s activities and sold it to Kuznetsov. He used the information to capitalize on some deals, cutting Sokolov out.” Agent Davis adjusted his tie. “This will be a part of the trial too. But in terms of you, Alex, you won’t necessarily be under witness protection like Lorenzo and his family, but rather just given a new identity.
“I have a friend from the military, as Lorenzo said, that has a bodyguard and security business, and I believe it would be a good fit for you. With your permission, we will re-locate you to his headquarters, I have a plane ticket for you.” He pulled out an envelope and handed it to her.
It didn’t take Alex long to think it over. Either she was going to leave to start all over again on her own, or she was going to have a new government-issued identification—probably more authentic than the one Lorenzo had purchased for her—and a job ready made for her werewolf talents.