by Chanel Smith
Veronica wrenched her head away. Ursula shrugged.
“Suit yourself. When you get too weak and the years of your life begin to show, you will take it. Or we'll make you eat, because we won't let you die.” She turned and placed the bottle on a table in the middle of the room. The door opened for her and she was gone.
Fuck you. Just fuck you.
***
Kullervo took Anastasia's hand and led her back to the flat. Andrei was still comatose and tied to the chair. For a moment, he wanted to take a swing at the man, but he looked at Anastasia and stopped himself. Instead, he growled and ran into the bedroom. He came back with a gun and threw it to Anastasia.
“Guard this bugger and if anyone you don't know comes in, shoot him and then shoot them.” He drew his sword and took a rag from the kitchen. He cleaned off the blade and made for the door.
“Where are you going?” Anastasia asked.
“Getting back your chaperone.” Kullervo opened the door.
“I want to come with you.”
Kullervo rounded on her. “You're not coming with me. It's damned dangerous.”
“You stopped someone abducting me as well as my brother.” Her voice was firm. “I won't be any safer here than I will be helping you.”
Kullervo shook his head. “You want to come and fight wearing what you're wearing and without a weapon? I suppose you've spent most of your life practicing martial arts then?”
Anastasia shook her head. “I can use a gun, and you've just given me one. Other than that, I will just stay out of your way.”
Kullervo shook his head, but held the door open. “We'll get you some gear then.”
Dockside there was a dump store and Kullervo spent good money on an old Vintovka Mosina rifle and a bayonet. He bought ammunition for the old rifle and Anastasia got some combat-ready clothing and some army boots. She was not too happy about it, feeling the clothes were rather unflattering, but she did feel that she moved easier in the gear than she did in her dress and furs.
They set out across the darkening city, making their way to the nearest metro station. They made their way to Finlyandsky station and boarded the train to Vyborg.
“Where are we actually going?” Anastasia asked when they sat down in the old carriage.
Kullervo did not answer immediately. He looked out the window, watching the buildings pass by. “This city keeps changing, but it was old the day it was built. I like it. I don't like cities, but I like this one.”
“That's not an answer.”
Kullervo looked at her. “We're going to where your friend Veronica Melbourne is.”
“You want to rescue her?”
He shrugged. “Despite all my advice, she still managed to get herself into trouble, so I don't really care. But we won't get Alexei back without her.”
They drove through the dark country, the trees rushing past the trundling train. They disembarked from the train at the station before Vyborg, at a place called Verkhnecherkasovo and ran through the streets. There was a warehouse at the edge of the town, right on the edge of the woods. They walked through the trees and came up to the back of the building. And there they waited.
***
Veronica was fuming. The bottle was an insult, but she could smell the bottle’s contents from where it had been left on the table. She pulled at the chains again. The one holding her left hand above her head shifted and there was a metallic creaking suddenly. She looked up. It was the pipe above her head. She could see a small film of rust fall down from one of the joints. She pulled again. The same spot creaked and more rusty dust fell down.
The damn pipes… why hadn’t I thought of that before? Whatever these chains are made of is fucking sturdy, but those pipes are as old as time.
Suddenly there was hope again. She could break out of here. She pulled again, straining her muscles to the fullest. She paused and focused her mind, her strength… pictured that rich, powerful vampiric blood coursing through her veins. There was another creaking sound. Then a crack. The pipe snapped, but it did not bend. She pulled again. It would not bend.
It will never bend far enough. I need more strength than I can gain with one arm.
She had a thought. She pulled with her other arm, not trying to break and bend the other piece of pipe, but to shift the chain. She relaxed and swung the chain, pulled and tried to swing the chain over again. It moved. It was only by an inch or so, but it was a start. She did it again and the chain shifted again.
Five minutes later, Veronica could reach the other chain. She wrapped her fingers around it and now with both hands pulled it down. The pipe strained. It groaned and squeaked and then, with a sudden snap, it broke.
The piece of pipe fell down, hitting her on the top of her head. She swore as the stars appeared in her vision. But her arms were free. She hung lopsidedly against the wall, shaking her head to clear her vision. She paused for a moment and listened for the sound of anyone coming to check on the noise. Nothing. Nobody came. Refocusing on the task of getting free, she shifted all her weight onto the other chain and pulled. The remainder of the broken pipe hung on one support and as soon as Veronica applied the weight of her entire body to it, the support came away from the concrete. The chain slid off the pipe and she fell forward. She felt her face hit the concrete floor, but she was laughing.
She was laughing as she stood and tried to move. She was still restricted by her leg chains, but she was happy she could move her arms now. At the very least, she could put up a fight if her guards came back. But that was not what she wanted to be able to do.
She grabbed one leg chain and braced herself against the wall. She pulled with all her might, but the pipe would not budge. She let go and almost straight away braced herself again for a new effort. Then she stopped. There was a noise in the next room. She stood stock still, ready to defend herself.
She strained her ears and listened. It was not the noise of a person approaching; it was the noise of a fight.
The door flew open and Ursula came in, walking backward. She appeared to be stabbing at someone, but Veronica could not see who. The blonde woman suddenly turned and ran back into the room. She saw Veronica and stopped. She did not approach the vampire now that she was almost loose. She turned around again and faced what was coming through the doors.
A wolf was there filling the door frame and advancing on her. It reared on two legs and held a sword in one of its front paws. The werewolf roared out in triumph and defiance. It moved forward, slashing the sword across the body of the blonde woman. She backed away, but then Veronica saw her body begin to shiver. The blonde woman seemed to grow, her body growing fuller and broader. Her clothes tore and she seemed to grow fur. She grew even larger than the werewolf. She grew in brown fur and with big paws and teeth and fury. The woman Urusula had become a giant bear. A werebear. A berserker perhaps? An ursinthrope. A werebear. That would explain the paw I had been hit with.
The bear swept her paws at the big werewolf. The werewolf bared his teeth and jumped forward. The sword in his claw seemed forgotten and nothing but bloodlust and battle fury remained for him.
Someone else entered the room, skirting the walls to avoid the fight that suddenly erupted between the wolf and the bear. She looked like an old fashioned female Soviet soldier. Camouflage overalls, a leather jacket and an old rifle with the long bayonet affixed to the nozzle. She wore her dark hair tied in a ponytail which swung from side to side as she ran along the wall to the place where Veronica was still shackled to the wall. When she stopped, she leveled the rifle. Involuntarily, Veronica backed away from the strange woman. But then she saw the eyes peering out from beneath the rim of the black fur hat. “Ana?” What the hell was going on here?
Anastasia lowered the rifle and aimed at the link that held the chain tied to the pipe.
“Watch out,” she cried as she pulled the trigger and the bullet smashed the link. The chain fell limply to the ground. Ana pulled the bolt and another cartridge clicked into the ch
amber. She fired at the other chain. It fell too, and just like that, Veronica Melbourne was a free woman again.
There was a clash of steel against concrete and a shower of debris as the wolf swung the sword, slashing at the bear. The bear stepped back and avoided the swing. She jumped forward and slammed her large claws into the wolf's face. The wolf cried in pain and blood poured from a large gash on his nose. He dropped the sword and swung it low. It caught the bear's right hind leg and she fell. The sword came up, but the tip did not pierce the fur it brushed through. The wolf came forward, teeth bared and mouth open. He launched himself forward, pinning the bear down and sinking his teeth into the bear's neck. Blood spurted across the room in a wide spray. The big bear paw slammed into the side of his head again. The wolf fell sideways. He landed heavily on his side and for a moment, it looked like he could not lift his head again. He whined in pain and shook heavily as he got to his legs once more. The bear crawled up, raising herself over the wolf, but then she sank back. Blood spurted from the neck incessantly, spraying the wolf and the concrete floor.
With a growl, the wolf sank to the ground. His blood-sprayed fur began to retreat. His long nose retreated and his teeth sank back into his gums. Kullervo sat panting on the floor, wearing nothing but his torn jeans.
The bear did not change back. Her yellow eyes stared at the wolf and for a moment she looked toward Veronica. Then her head fell back and there was an audible sigh as she gave her last breath.
Anastasia came over to Kullervo.
“Are you okay?”
Kullervo weakly raised a hand to his face, his fingers palpating the deep lacerations left by the bear's claws. He looked at his fingers and licked the blood from them.
“It will be alright. Fucking cold now, where's my coat?”
“You left it outside,” Anastasia said. “I'll get it.” She darted off.
Veronica stood over Kullervo and extended her hand to help him to his feet.
“Thanks.”
Kullervo growled and pushed himself to his feet. “Now you're free again, you're going to have to fight.”
Veronica frowned. “Fight for what?”
“The little one is gone.”
The little one is gone? Alexei is gone?
“What happened?” she asked. She was worried, not just because her charge was gone, but also because of the consequences it would have for her if she did not bring the tsarevich safely to the Eastern Council of Elder Watchers.
“Ida Averbach took him. Couldn't find out where he is now.”
“Who's Ida Averbach?”
“The woman who took Alexei.”
She resisted the urge to hit the werewolf. He was being deliberately obtuse and right now she was not in the mood for it.
“Look buddy, I just spent God knows how long in fucking chains and then you tell me a kid I’m responsible for has been taken by someone. Don't mess around and fucking tell me who took him.”
Kullervo bared his bloody teeth as he looked up at her.
“And who took you here?”
“The fuck if I know!” Veronica threw her hands up. “Some thin, sickly looking dude and some women, one of whom you just killed.”
Kullervo spat out a gob of blood. “You fucked up and I just saved your bloody ass. You can ask the stupid questions when I've come to my senses again. Turning is not a very comfortable affair, nor is getting smacked about by a were-bear.” He reached forward, picking up his sword again. He took it and stood over the bear's corpse. “You were always a treacherous bitch, Ursula.” he growled at her. He placed the tip of the sword on her breast and pressed down. The steel sliced through the fur and there was an audible sound as a rib snapped. Blood welled up, but there was no spray as the sword pierced the heart. He withdrew the sword and swept the blade sideways, cleaning some of the blood off the steel. He stooped down and wiped it on the fur and then he turned back to Veronica.
“That bitch works for the man called Yakov Sverdlov. We all know how badly Sverdlov wants these two dead.”
Veronica said nothing. There was no question to ask just now.
“The chap I brought in the other night is his grandson. The witch who took Alexei is his niece,” Kullervo continued. “I don't know where they went.”
Anastasia returned with Kullervo's coat, boots and shirt. Kullervo pushed the sword into its scabbard and quickly pulled on his clothing. He turned on Anastasia again.
“To shut this one up,” he started, nodding toward Veronica, “you’re positive that Ida didn’t say anything about where she was taking your brother, right?”
Anastasia shook her head. She shuffled her feet. “She only said we were supposed to be in hell already.”
Kullervo froze.
Veronica bit her lip with her front teeth. Her right fang lay over the top of her lip. She felt she should do something to comfort Anastasia, but she did not know what to do. She put her hand on her shoulder and squeezed gently. Then she turned and walked through the door. Right behind it, on a small table were her weapons and the garments that had been taken from her when she had been imprisoned there. She returned to see Kullervo's furious look.
“Why didn't you tell me that?” he said softly, but angrily.
“She just said they should be dead already?” Veronica answered for a flabbergasted Anastasia.
Kullervo shook his head. “They've taken him to hell.”
Veronica blinked.
“What?”
“Alexei is in the Hell of the North.”
Chapter Four
It was a silent trip back to St. Petersburg. Kullervo was still nursing his injuries. Anastasia wanted to help him, but he pushed her away. Veronica meanwhile was on her qui vive. Through everything, she was suddenly aware there was more to the situation she had been landed in than she had thought.
It had seemed so simple. Fly to Copenhagen, make your way to St. Petersburg and show Alexei and his sister a bunch of the places they had grown up in and then find Elizabeth Báthory's Csejte Castle and bring them there to the Eastern Council. But she had not counted on the web of intrigue that had engulfed them up to that point.
Meeting Kullervo had been a blessing of sorts. Björn had been right to recommend him. She would not have survived this night without the were. There was no denying that.
She did not understand what was going on still. She knew they would have to save Alexei, but she still didn’t know how they were going to do it. She did not even know what Kullervo had meant by the cryptic description of the “Hell of the North.”
They walked along the embankment back to the apartment in silence. Upstairs, Kullervo wrenched the door open and went in. Andrei was still passed out in the chair. That was a plus.
“Wake him up,” Kullervo growled at Veronica. He went into the bathroom and turned on the tap.
Veronica slapped the unconscious man in the face and he groaned. She slapped him again.
“Wake up.”
Lazily, the man opened his eyes. Slowly he raised his head and he smiled at Veronica.
“Why hello. So that old bastard got you back then?”
Veronica did not answer. Instead, she went to check on Kullervo. He was in the bathroom. He was stabbing at his face with a needle, or so it seemed.
“What the hell are you doing?” she asked.
Kullervo looked around and grumbled. “You might as well do it, my fingers are numb.”
“Do what?”
“Stitch me up.”
Veronica blinked. “Not done that before.”
“You can sew, can't you?”
She nodded and then shook her head as she took the needle and thread.
There were six cuts on the werewolf's face. Three of them were deep and needed the suturing badly. She pushed the needle through the man's skin at the ragged edge of one of the cuts. He stared blankly ahead. “Push it together first.”
Veronica did as he said and put in the first stitch. She tied a knot and cut the wire on a razor-sharp f
ang. In the mirror, she saw Anastasia looking on and wondered whether the girl would not want to take over. The way she looked on was so caring. She would probably do a better and more careful job of it.
When Veronica was done, Kullervo looked in the mirror to check her work. He grunted his approval and patted her on the shoulder before he turned and went back to the living room of the apartment.
Andrei smiled at him. “Someone cut you?”
“Yes,” Kullervo said, smiling viciously. “And in return for the favor, I cut the bitch's heart in two.”
Andrei thought for a moment. “Ursula?”
Kullervo nodded.
“Good, never did like traitors.”
Veronica and Anastasia both sat down on the sofa, watching the exchange.
Kullervo nodded to the two vampires. “Maybe you want to tell them a story?”
Andrei opened his eyes wide. “What story?”
“How about you tell the story of the Hell of the North?”
Andrei laughed heartily. “That's a boring old story!” He looked over at Anastasia. “How about I tell you a better one? Like the story of the death of the emperor?”
Anastasia looked down, her eyes tearing up suddenly.
“I was there you know. I held a pistol and fired along with the others. I heard the emperor beg for the lives of his family. But his cowardly pleading was in vain.”
“Stop it,” Anastasia whispered.
“But we shot his sow of a wife first. And then we set about shooting the others one by one. We shot your sisters first, remember? And then we shot you. And then we put a bullet through your little brother's chest, didn't we? And then...” He never finished the sentence. Veronica, in a sudden rage, had taken a glass ashtray and flung it at his head. It caught him in the jaw and there was a crack. His lower jaw hung slack. He could not move it again.
Kullervo shook his head and palpated the place where the glass object had hit Andrei's jaw. He grinned. “Well, well done Veronica. I've wanted to break his jaw for a very long time.” For some reason Kullervo's good manner had returned.
