by Zoe Perdita
Taking a deep breath, I look over the short white fence toward our neighbor’s house. Yuri’s in the yard, his long black hair tied back into a ponytail and his finely toned chest bare, as he mows the front lawn. Sweat beads on his pale brow and drips down the lanky muscles on his back. Damn, all this time and the oldest Lowell brother is still as hot as ever. Just looking at him sends a prickle of excitement over my skin. I wonder if all five brothers still live there?
I remember the first time I met the Lowell boys. We’d just moved into the country- a long twenty-minute drive from Spokane. My parents wanted to start a little organic farming operation and they needed the land. As a kid from the suburbs living all the way out here sounded horrible. What was I supposed to do in the middle of nowhere? They’d better have cable and a way for me to play video games!
The first time I saw the house with its peeling yellow paint and the huge wrap around porch I wanted to be disappointed. But the place was huge! A hell of a lot bigger than our little one-story ranch house back in the city. The mountains came right down and touched the edge of the valley, rising right up to greet the sky like they were saying hello. Looking over the fields of wheat, still green and growing, my lingering trepidation faded away. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.
Then the neighbor boys ran out of the house, Yuri towering above them at sixteen, his hair just as long as it is now. They chatted in a strange mixture of Russian and English but stopped as soon as they saw us. We stared at one other for a moment that seemed to stretch across time and space. Looking at their faces, I felt strangely at home. But I’d never met those kids in my life!
“What?” I said loud enough for them to hear me, and my mom clipped me lightly on the back of the head.
“Go say hello, Sam. Don’t be rude to the neighbors.” And she pushed me toward the little wooden fence that separated our yards.
I stumbled up to them, shoved my Gameboy in my pocket, and nodded. “I’m Sam. We’re moving in.”
Yuri was the first to speak, his English slightly accented. “I’m Yuri Lowell and these are my brothers.”
All four of the younger ones sounded off: Alexei was the second oldest- a gawky fourteen-year-old with dirty blond hair and clear gray eyes. Then came the twelve-year-old Nikolai whose dark hair and pretty boy face reminded me of Yuri’s to an extraordinary degree. Dmitri was my age and his reddish-brown hair looked like my own, but his eyes were a clear green instead of an ugly muddy brown. The youngest was Pasha at seven, his pale blond hair in stark contrast to all of his brothers.
“Where are your parents?” I asked and glanced at the house behind them. It was in slightly better repair than our own- freshly painted and larger. Did each kid get his own room or did they share? Sharing wasn’t something I had to do very often as an only child.
“At work,” Nikolai said and looked me over with a critical eye. “What’s wrong with you?”
I glared at the taller boy. “Nothing. What’s wrong with you?”
Yuri clamped his hand down on Nikolai’s slender shoulder. “Sorry for my brother. He’s a bit of a joker.”
I didn’t believe he was joking for a second, but the smile on Dmitri’s lips distracted me.
“Will you play with us?” Pasha asked and rested his chin on the fence, his grubby fingers gripping onto the wood. “I think you’re supposed to play with us.”
I nodded. “Yeah, sure. What’s there to do out here anyway?”
Dmitri gave me a wolfish grin. “Oh, plenty, moy droog. Plenty.”
The blaring honk of a car wakes me from my reverie, and I watch as an old beat up truck pulls into their yard. Yuri, his face as pale and as smooth as a statue, glances over as Alexei and Nikolai climb down.
Alexei’s dirty blond hair had always been messy, but now it hangs to his shoulders with a fringe of bangs dangling in his eyes. The sharp curve of his jaw and chin, never as delicate as the other boys, adds a strong air of masculinity to his handsome face. A black wife beater and tight jeans cling to his muscular frame- the bulge in his pants more than evident as he pulls groceries out of the back. Like usual, Nikolai looks like a slightly younger Yuri, right down to the long black hair and the well-defined lanky body.
Blood rushes to my groin and sweat gathers on my palms. A strange electric buzz fills my ears, radiating off my skin like static. Why do I still feel this way after all these years? It’s been ages since I’ve spoken to any of them. After I left for college I didn’t have the time to keep in touch with a family of brothers who lived totally different lives from my own. No matter how badly I want to, saying something now seems cheap and forced. It’s not like talking to them will change anything- my parents are still dead. I still won’t have a job. And I’ve got a whole stupid U-Haul trailer to unpack all on my own. Fun!
Suddenly, Yuri catches me staring. His almond shaped eyes narrow into dangerous slits, and he turns and hurries the other brothers into the house. As they disappear inside the ache in my body eases to a dull thud. Weird, but I have other things to worry about.
I unload most of my stuff and settle into the house. It’s funny how everything is just the same as I remember. The floral couch- the tacky wallpaper- even the lacy curtains blowing in the warm evening breeze all remind me of my childhood. The hutch is filled with all my mom’s fine china. I can almost hear her telling me it was passed down from her great-grandmother- her light voice urging me to take care of it. What the hell am I supposed to do with china? What am I supposed to do with most of this stuff?
As I lean against the wall, staring at nothing, my stomach growls. I don’t remember the last time I ate, probably at lunch, and like an idiot I glance in the fridge. Empty, of course. Well, I think I still have a bag of chips in the car. Hopefully that’ll tide me over until morning. This is why I hate the country- no easy access to food! I walk toward the door, the fading light of evening shining over the mountains like a halo of gold, and open it.
Dmitri stands on the porch, his hand raised to knock and that familiar wolfish smirk on his full lips. “I heard you were back, Sammy!”
My heart pounds in my chest and I nod, looking him over. Just like his older brothers Dmitri’s grown into a fine looking man. He’s about my height, a decent six-feet, and his rusty hair still hangs in gentle waves around his pale face. Those keen green eyes seem to pick up the light from the house and reflect it back at me. His slightly crooked nose, upturned at the tip, is similar to the other Lowell boys. Are all Russian men this good looking or did they hit the genetic jackpot?
“Yeah. So what’s up?”
“We’re sorry to hear about your parents. It was so shocking to us that they died like that. We emptied the pantry and refrigerator so the food wouldn’t spoil.”
I clear my throat and look at the night sky dusted with stars. Shit! I really don’t want to talk about my folks right now. “Thanks.”
“I brought you some dinner if you want to eat. We’d invite you over but we have plans tonight,” he says and hands me a plate wrapped in tin foil.
“It’s not steak tartare, is it?” I ask as I take the offering.
Dmitri laughs, and I wonder if he remembers that day as well as I do. Raw meat is not something I want to try again. “No. It’s like pirog. A cooked meat pie.”
“Sounds good,” I say and force myself to smile. What kind of plans do they have? Maybe they all have dates. The ladies must love them- if they know any ladies. A strange pit forms in my stomach at the thought.
The young Russian glances up at the full moon rising over the hills, and for a moment I think I catch a glimpse of sharply pointed fangs hanging over his bottom lip. No. That doesn’t make any fucking sense. He’d not a vampire! “I must go. I’ll see you later, Sammy. Let us know if you need help,” he says and pats my shoulder with a long fingered hand.
He turns and trots down the steps and out of my yard. Once he gets to the fence he stops. “You should shut your windows tonight. Wolves always come out on the full moon,” h
e shouts and disappears into the growing shadows.
Backing into the house I remember him saying the same thing to me when we were kids. Wolves come out on the full moon. After living out here for eight years I only saw one wolf, but that memory is bad enough.
“Here. This looks perfect,” Dmitri said and set down his pack.
I pulled mine off, glancing up at the ancient fir trees towering over our heads, and took a deep breath of the fresh mountain air. “I can’t believe Yuri let you go camping alone. He always wants to come with us.”
Dmitri shrugged his broad shoulders and sipped from the water bottle. “Let’s just say I talked him into it,” he said and grinned.
“So you didn’t tell him?”
His green eyes flashed in the dim light of the forest as he held his finger to his pouty lips. “I’m on a trip with the chess team. He’s so busy lately he won’t remember I’m even gone.”
“Why didn’t you invite Pasha? He’s gonna be bored back there.”
“This trip is just for you and me to celebrate,” he said and pulled our tent and two full bottles of vodka from his backpack. “Pasha’s still too young.”
“That’s twenty-one!” But I grabbed a bottle nonetheless, swishing the clear, oily liquid around inside it.
“Well, in Russia you can drink now, so that’s what we’ll pretend,” he said and flashed his bright white teeth at me.
A rush of excitement surged to my groin at that look- his pale, boyishly handsome face, the well-defined strength in his arms and chest- shit! I shouldn’t think about one of my best friends like that, especially when I had the same kind of dirty thoughts about all his brothers. How the hell did he get so fit when he didn’t play sports or work out? I swam and ran track and my body didn’t have the same easy muscle tone; I was just slightly too skinny.
“What?” he asked suddenly, and heat rushed to my cheeks. Shit, I was staring again!
“Um, yeah. Let’s pretend I’m in Russia! Want to set up the tent?”
Dmitri nodded, his eyebrows raised into a question he never bothered asking.
The cool night air of the mountains wrapped around us as we made camp and settled in front of the roaring fire. From our spot on the hill we could just make out the twinkling light of the houses in the valley below.
“Where is UCLA?” Dmitri asked as he gnawed on his sixth hotdog.
“Los Angeles, California.”
He whistled into the night. “That’s a long way from home. When will you come to visit us?”
“Maybe at Christmas,” I said and shrugged. Getting away was part of my plan- living in such a small community with a big secret weighting over my head sucked. Going out with girls- especially girls I had no interest in- wasn’t easy. Not to mention living next to a house of hot as fuck Russian men that I couldn’t have. But the weird thing is I wasn’t attracted to any other guys- just the Lowell brothers. Something was really wrong with me and getting away from them was the only way to fix it.
“Won’t you miss us?” he asked and scooted closer to me, the fire casting strange shadows over his face.
“Yeah, you’re my best friend! But I don’t want to go to any of the local schools. Plus, I got a full scholarship. I can’t pass this up.”
Dmitri pouted and his eyes seemed to shine in the darkness. “We’ll miss you too. All of us.”
Thinking of our time together over the years, I nodded. “We had a lot of fun. I’ll come back. My parents are gonna live out here forever!”
He smiled, but it held none of the impish pleasure it usually did. “Yes. Forever.”
“Oh, shit. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you think about your folks,” I said. Whatever happened to them, the brothers never talked about it. Must have been bad though.
He shook his head and grinned. “I’m not sad about our parents! They’re on a trip this week. Come. Let’s have a drink of this fine Russian water and make Yuri proud!”
The vodka burned as it slid down my throat. Fuck! It tasted like drinking Pine Sol, but after a few shots the strident flavor mellowed- or I was just too buzzed to be bothered by it anymore.
“What about your girlfriend?” Dmitri asked and grabbed the bottle from my hand. How could he gulp it like that and not make a face?
I laughed. Everything in the world felt like a joke at that moment. “We broke up when I told her about UCLA.”
He handed the bottle back to me, his eyes sharp even after all that alcohol. “Oh. Too bad. You fuck her?”
“No. She wanted to wait for marriage or some shit,” I said and giggled into the vodka as I took another slow sip.
Suddenly, Dmitri’s shoulder pressed into mine, his green eyes glowing in the dim light of the fire as he studied my face. “But you kissed her? You liked kissing her?”
My cheeks burned. “Um, yeah. It was okay, I guess. Haven’t you kissed a girl?”
His lips turned up into a smirk. “I don’t know if I could kiss a woman properly.”
The thump of my heart sounded louder- more pronounced- like I felt every single beat. “Why not?” Was he as curious as I was?
“I might be bad at it. I need practice,” he whispered, his lips mere inches from my own.
The warmth of his breath blew into my face and smelled strongly of alcohol. My whole body burned- a fiery need building in my chest and cock as I looked at him.
Our lips met. The barest touch of flesh to flesh. His plump mouth pressed into mine, our tongues flicking out to meet each other in the middle. He tasted like vodka and marshmallows, and I pressed my flat chest into his, my hands groping at his thickly muscled arms as he gripped onto my back. His nails dug into the skin, almost scratching me through two layers of clothing. Dmitri moaned as my lips traveled down his pale neck- his hips grinding into my body- both our cocks rising to the occasion as we dry humped each other through our jeans. Fuck! I needed more of him- his cock inside me somehow!
“I want you,” he moaned and grabbed by ass, pulling me onto his lap.
My legs fit over his hips like they were meant to. Rubbing our throbbing dicks together, the friction blurred my vision. Fuck! Panting hard. Hearts pounding. An electric surge of lust flowed from his body into mine. This was meant to happen. It needed to happen.
As I suckled his skin between my lips, a soft rustling came from the woods.
Suddenly, Dmitri sat up straight, shrugging off my hands and sniffing the air.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“Something’s out there.”
I wiped my eyes, looking past the smoke of the fire and into the darkness surrounding us. “It’s probably just a raccoon.”
“Shut up and get in the tent,” he said, his voice low and grumbly- almost a growl.
As I stood, the world spun around me- the stars in the sky blurring into a mess of lights. Shit! Maybe I drank too much. I stumbled forward, but the ground rushed up to met me, and when I sat up again my friend was gone.
“Dmitri?” I called.
A snarl answered me.
I slowly stood up and backed toward the tent. That didn’t sound like a raccoon.
Just as I bumped into the smooth nylon the beast jumped out of the trees and stalked toward me. Its pointed fangs bared and its ears pressed back to its head. The wolf’s coat looked as white as freshly fallen snow, except for the smears of red around its mouth. What the hell was going on?
“Dmitri?” I yelled again, almost falling over the tent as I stared at the thing.
If I ran would if follow? Shit! Did it eat Dmitri? What was I supposed to do?
Movement from the trees caught the animal’s attention, and I turned in the opposite direction and took off- but just as I moved the wolf swiped at me. Its enormous paw caught my side, the claws ripping into my jacket and shirt to the tender skin below.
I screamed in pain and ran pell-mell into the woods. Trees snapped at me, their branches scratching my face. Rocks and roots grabbed my shoes and pulled me to the forest floor as I t
ried to escape. Finally, I tripped over a fallen log and lay sprawled in the pine needles, my heart hammering in my chest as I waited for jaws to sink into my flesh- the bite of death to overtake me- but it never happened.
“Sammy? Where the hell did you go?” Dmitri called with his slight Russian accent.
Panting for breath, I sat up and held my side. “I’m here. By a log.”
“Shit!” he cried when he saw me. For some reason his clothes were ripped although he didn’t have a drop of blood on him. “Did it bite you?”
“No, just a scratch,” I said and stumbled to my feet.
He wrinkled his brow and helped me back to camp- our secret trip ruined.
I don’t remember much after we stumbled home that night. My parents rushed me to the emergency room, and I got stitches in my side. When we went back to school Dmitri had a black eye- something he didn’t get from the wolf in the woods. After that, I’d often hear the Lowell brothers arguing in Russian late into the night. I never found out why.
Just as I’m wiping the buttery crumbs of the meat pie from my lips I hear the first howl- a long lonely sound from the edge of the forest. Shit! Was that a wolf? A moment later another howl answers it as long and drawn out as the first. I guess Dmitri wasn’t kidding. I get up like a mad man and pull all of the windows closed, turning the little metal locks in place just in case.
As I move to the last window I see the outline of a bounding animal in the darkness, the great furry body of a wolf as it runs through the late summer fields of wheat. For a minute I can’t move- can’t do anything but stare at the creature in the distance. Is it the white wolf? The one that scratched me?
With shaking hands, I force the window down and lock it, pulling the lacy white curtains over it. My heart beats in my chest, pounding against my rib cage like it’s trying to break free. The scar on my side, the three long claw marks, suddenly itch, and I scratch at them. Sleep. Yeah. I should clean up and get to sleep. In the morning the world won’t seem as fucking crazy- I hope.
