by R. J. Blain
“But the vucari are honored.”
“I appreciate that, but I enjoy my privacy, and Petra becomes alarmed when there are guests.” I became more alarmed than my wolf did, but I wouldn’t tell her that. The ved’ma already knew more of my secrets than I liked. Once I got rid of her and her wolves, I would go into my cabin and cook something excessively complicated in an attempt to make myself feel better.
It wouldn’t work, but at least I’d eat enough to sustain me for a change, rather than just get by as I normally did.
“We have butchers for the wawkalak. You are welcome to make use of them. The pack is concerned you don’t eat enough. You are very good at pretending you’re human. If it were not for our other senses, we would not have known.”
“Well, yes. In America, we don’t exist. Witches and wolves, they’re nothing more than superstitions. They work hard to make sure nobody realizes we exist. I learned early on how to mask my shopping so people would not suspect me.”
“Do you not believe this is a shame?”
“It may be why we don’t have sumasshedshiy volk, too. Or at least to the scale you do here.”
“Interesting.” Her expression implied she wasn’t convinced. “Who would we speak to who might know more of the American way of things?”
I wondered what Charles Desmond would do if I led the Russians to him. What sort of fallout would happen upon the clash of two very different worlds? Bringing him into the situation would offer me an out, and if pressed about Bodwin’s wolf, I would use the truth as my defense.
I hadn’t wanted her to be killed. I’d been in the habit of running for so long I doubted I could have adjusted my instinct to go with a group rather than escape on my own as needed.
Still, he was the only contact I knew who might be able to make sense of the situation.
“There might be someone,” I admitted. “I would have to call a friend of mine, who could reach out to him.”
“Would you?”
“I see no reason why not, but you would have to forgo your brands. They would not tolerate it, especially if he brought his children with him.”
“His children? But why would he bring his children?”
“They are capable vucari. What other reason would he need?”
“His sons?”
“Daughters, and possibly his wife, although I do not know if she would come.”
“They have female vucari?” The astonishment in her voice startled me.
I gestured to the female wolf. “You have a female wawkalak. Why wouldn’t there be female vucari?”
“The women of the pack are held strongly by the moon, but as long as they can shift with the full moon, they are safe to be around. We allow them to shift with the moon, for they are precious and rare. Could it be your vucari are much like our wawkalak?”
“You would have to talk to him about it. My mother didn’t teach me about the women much. She was more like you, a ved’ma rather than a vucari or other type. Americans tend to call our kind werewolves,” I admitted. “But I have gone many years without shifting at all. But I have my mother to thank for her teachings in that.”
“Who is this vucari? That you would introduce us to?”
“His name is Charles Desmond.”
“And you would contact him for us?”
“I would need to get to a phone, but yes. I would contact him for you. I make no promises his culture and yours will mesh well. I am far more tolerant compared to others. He takes care with his wolf, and he shifts with the full moons to protect those around him, for he is old.”
“He is old? How old?”
“Old enough. You would have to ask him.” I considered her wolves. “Will your friends keep haunting the woods around my cabin? While I’ve nothing against others like me, they scare Petra.”
“They will keep a polite distance to respect your animal. Initially, we believed her to be the vucari, but we learned the truth. Do all American wolves have such ethereal coats?”
Ethereal was one way to put it. “Not that I’m aware of, but I don’t know for sure. I keep to myself and know only a few.”
“You seem to enjoy your solitude.”
I shrugged. “It’s what I’m used to.”
“Would you like to meet the pack properly?”
I expected my wolf to be intrigued by her offer, but all I could sense from him was wariness and concern. “I’d prefer to call my contacts in America first. Perhaps tomorrow we could meet in the city?”
“Yes, of course. I will meet you with a wawkalak in human form. Will that be acceptable?”
I hoped I would not regret my decision to cooperate with the ved’ma, but what else could I do? They might mean well—or not. With enough care, I could contact Dante and concoct an escape plan if necessary.
Considering how my life often went, I expected to require one sooner than later.
“That is acceptable.”
“Then I will see you tomorrow, and I will tell you where our wawkalak and bodark shop so you might be able to enjoy more plentiful fare.”
Not sure what to say, I nodded. She gave a nod of her own, waited for her wolves to jump back into her vehicle, and left without another word.
Chapter Four
The ved’ma kept her promise, and while the pack of wolves hunted in the woods surrounding my cabin, they did not venture into the yard. The next morning, Petra refused to leave the front area, although she did run and stretch as I expected of her. She came at my call, and worried the wawkalak might break their word regarding my wolf if I left her at home, I loaded her into the truck for the trip to Blagoveshchensk. She tolerated it with grace, taking over the floorboard while chewing on her bone.
I would need to get her new bones again soon, and I would have to stop at the butcher to pick up lunch for her. I’d have to figure out what I would eat, too—or hope I finished my business in town without delay. I longed for the sawmill to reopen so I could return to the routine of going to work, studying, and building a home for myself.
I expected I would need to abandon my cabin in the woods sooner than later.
As promised, the ved’ma met me at the butcher she’d chosen, and she’d brought a young man with her. His face lied, for the wawkalak carried himself much like Charles Desmond did, implying he only appeared to be young.
“Alevtina Petrovna Volkova,” I greeted.
“Sergei Sokolov.” She gestured to the werewolf keeping her company. “This is Grigorij Jakovlevich Maslov. Thank you for coming. I see you have brought your dog?”
Petra kept close to my legs, behaving more like an exceptionally well-trained Siberian husky rather than a proud wolf. “There was no reason not to bring her, and she has preferred to keep me company as of late.” Unlike at my cabin, I took a little more care with my Russian, although I still made the ved’ma wince. “I can’t promise my contact will answer. I don’t know what the time zone difference is, but if you want me to call, point me to a phone, and I will call.”
Grigorij approached me and held out a cell phone. “Use mine, please.”
I expected he would try to use the number later, so I would warn Dante to change his number or take whatever care he needed to protect himself. I accepted the phone, dialed the number from memory, and held it to my ear, listening to the dial tone.
“Anderson,” he answered with a yawn.
“Bob,” I greeted.
I almost smiled at Dante’s startled yelp. Once he recovered, he demanded, “Do you know what time it is?”
“I’m in Russia o’clock,” I replied. “I don’t know where you’re at right now, so I can’t even begin to guess what time it is. Does your group know anything about Blagoveshchensk, Russia?”
“We only operate in Moscow and St. Petersburg.”
“There are some people who’d like to meet Desmond in Blagoveshchensk.”
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. You?”
“We’re good for the most part.”
>
“For the most part?”
“Is the owner of this phone Normal?”
“No, he’s not.”
“Okay, good. Amber’s getting old, and her witchcraft can’t keep up anymore. Nicolina isn’t handling it well. My brother wants to authorize her becoming a Fenerec, but that can only happen under certain circumstances. So, I’m glad you called, because you happen to be one of those circumstances.”
“I am? How so?” I sighed and raised my hand, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Toad-spotted ratsbane. You just had to make this more complicated.”
“I’m good at complicated. You should know this by now, Declan.”
“All right. How can I help?”
“Basically, you’ll perform the ritual on her after getting her consent. Or maybe even without her consent if she is having severe health problems. Since you’re a dominant rogue wolf, sanctioned by my brother, with a severe case of single, he can write it off as amorous young wolf falling hopelessly in love with the woman who can still kick the asses of six SEALs at one time without thinking about it.”
My wolf sighed his longing in my head, and for a rare change, I agreed with him. “I want to watch her do that.”
“Of course you do. I’m happily mated, and it’s still one of the sexiest things I’ve ever seen. Not even my mate can argue with me over this one, because she thinks it’s sexy, too.”
“Does Amber want to become one of us?”
“She would if she could, but the current circumstances state she can’t. Since she’s old and has been in the Inquisition for a long time, she’s convinced there’s no chance for her to undergo the ritual. However, if I send her your way, and you take her off to wherever it is you’re denning, you can do it without real consequence. Depending on your wolf and hers, you might end up with her for life, but for some reason, I don’t think you’d mind that.”
“Is this revenge for having slipped off? I’m feeling like you are getting revenge for that.”
“No. It’s revenge for not calling sooner,” Dante replied.
“That seems cruel and unusual, but I also can’t state it’s not fair.” I sighed. “I had Bodwin’s wolf, and she’d been shot. I took the way out I had, and we ended up in Russia. It just happened I came here.”
“What is your current name?”
“Sergei Sokolov.”
“Patronymic?”
“I hate that question,” I muttered.
“You forgot to give yourself a patronymic?”
“I didn’t forget, but my mother did not provide it, if you please.”
Dante snickered at me. “Okay, okay. I’m never letting you live this down, as you’re usually better than that, but I bet you’ve put together a damned good story for yourself. You usually do. So, where are we headed?”
“Blagoveshchensk. It’s in eastern Russia. If you cross the river, you enter China. It’s north of Harbin and Changchun and across the river from Heihe.”
“I see your geography is as good as ever. It’ll take us a while to get there. Where can we find you?”
“Let me ask my hostess.” I lowered the phone and regarded the ved’ma with a frown. “They are willing to come, and they will come in a group. Where should they go once here?”
“You can invite them to your home if you would like, but we can issue them letters for a hotel in the area, but we will need to know how many are coming.”
Letters? Rather than ask, I lifted the phone to my ear. “I’ll need to know how many of you will be coming so you can get letters for a local hotel, although I’ll give you directions to my cabin.”
“You and your cabins. Don’t worry about the letters. We have access into Russia through Moscow. You can tell her that.”
“They’ll be coming through Moscow, so they don’t need any letters, but thank you,” I dutifully relayed.
The woman paled and said in Russian, “They are connected to Moscow?”
Interesting. She didn’t want Dante to overhear that question? I switched to Russian and replied, “They’re connected to everybody, Alevtina Petrovna Volkova. There will be too many of them to realistically stay at my cabin, so if you could give me information on a good hotel here, that would be appreciated.”
“There is a good hotel for guests near the train station.” She gave me instructions I relayed to Dante so he could handle any reservations they would need. “We have a guest home for visitors.”
“Please thank her for the offer, but we prefer to use hotels, as they can become neutral territory,” Dante told me.
I relayed his reply, which earned a nod from the ved’ma. “Your friend is wise,” she complimented.
“Oh, Dante?”
“When you have a question, I worry. I’ve learned this is something to worry about. When you have questions, you are thinking, and when you think, trouble brews.”
“I see you are displeased with me right now.”
“Only slightly miffed. Your programmer and your SEAL whine constantly, for you are a black ops legend and have disappeared again. What do you want?”
It pleased my wolf both of our friends cared we’d disappeared. “They seem to have issues with a lack of children and women among our numbers.”
“Ah. Simply addressed. Please ask if there are any bitches wishing to have children this winter. If so, we will invite them to the United States. We have room for four without me even thinking about it. That includes their mates, as we have found long-term separation makes it harder on them. There isn’t enough time to teach the Alphas how to stop the transformations, but we can handle that in the next year or so.”
“Alevtina Petrovna Volkova, my friend offers four placements for wawkalak or bodark women and their mates for this winter. Your ved’ma and higher placed wolves will learn how to help them, but for this year, it would be safer to send the pairings to America. This is something that you can discuss with my friends upon their arrival.”
Grigorij’s eyes widened. “You can do that?”
“Me? No. My friends? Yes. They don’t make offers like that without meaning them. It can be brought up for discussion when they arrive.” Trying to hold several conversations at one time tested my patience, and I sighed. “Amber will be fine to come to Russia?”
“She’s been taking her temper out on the SEALs. If I don’t bring her, she might finish breaking them.”
“How does Lane hold up against her?”
“He’s learning to be good sport for her.”
“I don’t know how to do what you want me to do,” I warned him.
“Desmond can teach you, so can Richard or Nicolina. Hell, Amber has seen it often enough she can guide you as needed, too. I’ll make sure Amber comes along, even if I have to cheat.”
“You are in a hurry.”
“I cheated, and I’ve seen her medical report.”
Crap. “How bad is it?”
“It’s bad. It’s nothing the ritual can’t resolve given some time, but she’s running out of it, and the current rules have our hands tied. Elliot wants to authorize the ritual for her through traditional venues, but we just don’t have a rule for saving a witch from old age after a lifetime of service.”
“That’s pretty fucking stupid.”
“That’s where you come in. You’re young, you’re very methodical, and you’ve shown interest. Having her as your mate is not at all a requirement, but my brother can use a loophole; you can’t court her if she’s dead, and you’re as valuable as she is. And you two teamed up? You’d be a great pair. She doesn’t scare you. You don’t scare her. That’s important.”
No, Amber didn’t scare me at all. She made my wolf drool rather like a love-sick puppy, and I held some responsibility for our general interest in the woman. “I want to watch her in action,” I complained.
“I’m not bringing six SEALs to Russia so Amber can beat them up for you, Declan. That said, there are videos of her in action, and I’ll bring them with us. It will probably take us two days to rea
ch you. Getting to that part of Russia can be problematic, so we’ll need some time.”
It’d taken me a lot longer than two days to make it to Blagoveshchensk. I could wait two days—and two days would give me enough time to think about the consequences of meeting back up with Desmond and his family. “Anything I should do to prepare?”
“No running.”
I snorted at that, wondering if Dante had developed the ability to read minds. “You have to give me some credit. I’m good at that.”
“Good? You’re incredible. Expect Desmond to want to leash you to him, and he’s not going to wait long before bringing you into his pack. He’s already secured Lane and Anthony, as he wanted to make sure your wolf was happy as soon as we found you. And no, we’re not angry. You did what was necessary, but Desmond figured you and your wolf needed space after what had happened. We didn’t look hard for survivors, though. We confirmed your friends had died, but we weren’t able to do anything about it.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“Well, it is. They wanted us, and we’d brought them straight to that mountain. It is our fault, however much I wish that was not the case.”
I sighed. “And ultimately, it’s my fault, because I brought you there.”
“We can wallow with some good Russian vodka soon. Is there a number I can reach you at?”
“Not really, but I guess call this phone. Grigorij Jakovlevich Maslov owns it.” I glanced at the other werewolf. “Do you speak English?” I asked in Russian.
“Some, but my English is worse than your Russian.”
It would do. “Grigorij Jakovlevich Maslov speaks some English, but you may wish to bring a translator to help.”
“I’m impressed you speak Russian at all,” Dante admitted. “We’ll make sure someone with our group can speak Russian.”
“Good idea on the translator, because while I can speak some Russian, I do so badly,” I replied in a wry tone. “Alevtina Petrovna Volkova, one of the local witches, who are called ved’ma here, wishes I would never speak Russian at all.”
