by Gaja J. Kos
There was no point in hiding anymore.
Rose began to speak, the words spilling out of her mouth in a torrent, revealing the pain and death she had caused. Revealing everything.
Her voice was hoarse when she finished recollecting every single detail of the mess her life had become. Bluntly stating the facts was daunting, but it was the least she could do so Serafina could decide whether or not she wished to stick around. Rose owed her that much.
Serafina interlaced their fingers. “So we run?”
Whatever Rose was expecting, it certainly wasn’t that. She met the Koldunya’s determined gaze and held it.
“No. We move on. Put some distance between us and the vamps. And hit them when we’re ready.”
Chapter 12
Zarja may have made fun of Mark for scowling each time Evelin was alone with Tomo, but she had to admit, the man was a charmer. Nothing forced, nothing sleazy. Just that pure charm some people were lucky enough to be born with. Despite having absolutely zero interest in men, Zarja found herself swooning over the officer on more than one occasion.
She kept convincing herself, quite firmly, that her reaction was nothing but a product of the circumstances she was in. And it wasn’t even a lie.
Zarja felt oddly out of place working with the police. With so many humans that were trained to be observant, relaxing was next to impossible.
Careful of her posture and any ill-timed growls, she lingered behind Tomo and two young officers who hadn’t so much as gazed weirdly at her when Tomo introduced his new temporary consultant. More than once, Zarja strained her thoughts, trying to come up with a plausible explanation as to just which expertise she supposedly offered that might prove useful to the police.
Preoccupied with Rafael to fill her in properly, Evelin gave Zarja Tomo’s number so they could work out the details. But the unnervingly charming officer had merely said, with a good-natured laugh thrown into the mix, that she’d figure it out eventually.
Clearly, the man had some insight into her life.
Zarja didn’t know whether she should be flattered or concerned.
One thing, however, was clear—the officer was something of a reassuring presence for her. Though that didn’t change the fact that she wanted to snarl at him for being so damned mysterious.
As the group approached the building with a no-nonsense yet calm attitude, Zarja went over her life. It had always revolved around the supernatural. She practically blew off school, lived on the modest stipend every werewolf was granted—though, admittedly, she never questioned just where the money was coming from, as long as it did—and focused purely on pack life. The single thing that was truly hers was the small gym she bought once she had saved up enough funds by being muscle for hire.
It was a modest place, about a fifteen-minute walk from her apartment, but equipped with a boxing ring as well as several multi-exercise machines, versatile enough to work on the whole body. She had some student or another run it while she was away on other business, but Zarja always liked managing the place. It was hers. And the people who came there weren’t many, but they were loyal. Humans, vamps, and werewolves. She knew nearly all of them by sight, and some even by name.
Zarja almost chortled out loud when the realization clicked in her mind. Vampires. She was one of those experts on the species Ljubljana P.D. clearly lacked.
It took a lot of willpower on her side to not snicker at the idea. Her. An adviser on vamps. Hilarious.
Quite possibly, Tomo had fed his coworkers the very tale that was the pack’s go-to line in case they were caught fighting one of the creatures. Vamp descendants. It explained the strength, the willingness to even go face-to-face with one of them.
Zarja swallowed her laughter.
With her bloodline consisting of nothing but werewolves, she was as far from being kin to vampires as possible. But she did have experience. And with the gym and its visitors probably being public knowledge, it wasn’t a story Tomo had to spin too hard to make it sound true.
Shoulders held straight, Zarja slithered closer to Tomo, both their gazes fixed on the building that was slowly coming into view.
Though the plan would have been nearly impossible to achieve if the circumstances hadn’t laid out the groundwork for them, it was still brilliant. Crime had been on an incline for the past few weeks; ATM robberies, B&Es, even one sonovabitch rapist Zarja wouldn’t mind sinking her claws in running loose on the streets and attacking women in the early hours of morning. Police presence among the civilians was far from unusual lately, and going about canvasing the streets has become something few people blinked twice at. Only yesterday, a few of the men in blue spent their afternoon questioning the residents just a few blocks west from where they were now because of the latest incident.
As grateful as Zarja was for the opportunity she and the police were given, she felt slightly uncomfortable that the reason behind it was the mugging of an old lady. The woman had supposedly held on to her purse so tightly that the perp tipped her over, effectively causing her to crack her skull against the sidewalk.
Although the police had eliminated the possibility of the man fleeing the scene of the crime in this particular direction, the residents of the street remained oblivious to the fact. And in any case, as Tomo had jested bitterly, perhaps someone here did see something on their way home that would aid them in identifying the killer.
Zarja thought of the old lady and wished with all her heart that Tomo’s words would come true.
As they neared the intersection, one of the younger officers broke away from the group and crossed the street where a low complex stood right on the corner, while the other stalked over to the entrance of the house, positioned next to the one Zarja hadn’t been able to get out of her sight. Despite having a good story to back them up once they rang the doorbell, they had to be careful about keeping up appearances. Canvasing just one house might raise suspicion in case they were seen, especially considering the very general questions they had to pose.
“You said they were on the third floor?” Tomo asked, his voice low enough that a human standing next to him would have difficulties hearing.
“Yessir,” Zarja replied. She had been lucky to catch a rogue scent the other day just before she and the twins had left, making it possible for her to narrow down the vamps’ location.
Tomo only nodded in acknowledgment, his features transforming into a no-nonsense cop face.
The doors out front were ajar, so they pushed inside, stalking down the short hallway. Unlike the rest of his men, the pair had no intention of splitting up. However, that didn’t release them from following the exact same rules—knocking on every single one of the doors.
Fortunately, Zarja had been correct in her assessment of the building. The architecture was similar to the one her apartment was situated in, a wide stairwell leading to the seven units it harbored. From what Zarja had been able to determine from her stalking expedition with the twins, the vamps should be occupying the apartment on the western side.
The downside of her information was the knowledge that getting to them might take a while…
She blew out a breath and followed Tomo to the first door.
The deep green countryside darted past Evelin, but even the untamed beauty of it failed to catch her attention. She was sitting behind the wheel of the pickup truck, willing the last of the tremors to leave her limbs. Rafael, still in his human form, was strapped into the baby seat Mark had bought for Til.
Thankfully, the seat was one of those adjustable ones, and fit the cub perfectly. Evelin wasn’t sure if she could have handled another setback; even if it was something as trivial as a car seat. Finding Rafael clothes had been hard enough…
Evelin gripped the wheel, then lessened the pressure as she exhaled.
She repeated the process a few more times, her fingers gradually relaxing with each motion. The last thing she wanted to do was face the Kolduny while she was trapped in an overly emotional state.
The magical beings wouldn’t be swayed by motherly outbursts and pleas for help. She would have to tackle them with sound reasoning.
Allowing herself one final moment of vulnerability, Evelin pulled into a parking lot at the edge of Radovljica and killed the engine. She wished Mark could have joined her, but between Til needing someone to look after him and the werewolf himself being even more of a wreck than her, going alone had presented itself the wisest option.
She picked up the child and wrapped him in her arms. Her composure threatened to unravel as he leaned into her embrace, but Evelin ground her teeth. Rafael. She would be strong for Rafael. With one final shudder, Evelin forced herself to do what was necessary and stalked towards the woods. The car beeped behind her, the doors locking shut. Much like her choices.
A faint hum radiated from the amulet of Mokoš Evelin had worn around her neck since the day she received it. It grew stronger with each step she took towards the Kolduny’s sacred circle, reacting to the proximity to its place of origin. Letting the hum become a companion, she trekked through the woods, Rafael quiet and calm in her arms as they walked past the thinning groups of hikers.
She loosened a breath as she finally veered off the main path, her legs following directions she didn’t need to give. The ethereal pull of the Kolduny guided her, the markers she had memorized beforehand becoming redundant. Her mind slipped into the cool, calculative state—into the one trait that separated the Black werewolves from all other species—quieting down the last of her untamed emotions. It may have been a burden at times, but in that moment, she embraced every inch of that chilling darkness.
When she reached the boulder on the edge of the Kolduny’s land, she was perfectly calm.
She shifted Rafael on her hip to free her hands. The cub curled against her, the soft scent of his skin brushing against her senses, but she didn’t let it derail her.
Dragging a claw across her palm, she waited for the blood to swell across the thin gash. She pressed her injured hand against the rock. The crimson liquid disappeared into the surface, and she wiped last droplets of blood that still lingered on her skin against the fabric of her black shorts.
She straightened her back.
The apparition of the ethereal land of spring wasn’t as stark this time as it had been in the winter, with the regular forest around her matching the now deep green shades, yet she couldn’t deny that there was a different quality to it. Even Rafael sensed it, letting out an awing sound as he turned his head around and stared at the lively forest.
Evelin readjusted her grip on the cub and waded into the embrace of eternal spring.
The trek took longer with the child in her arms, but she wasn’t even winded when she emerged from the trees and found herself in the familiar clearing. She stopped just beyond the sun-kissed stretch of flat land, her gaze focused on the silhouettes in the distance.
Agata stepped out of the shadows first, flanked by Sander and Ilka, while the rest remained hidden, their faces obscured by the potent shade.
A mixture of scents flowed towards Evelin as the three figures glided across the grass with their frustrating, lightweight footsteps. She sampled the fragrances, finding no ill intent woven into its individual structures. However, there was caution.
Agata’s face was the same kind, beautifully painted canvas Evelin remembered from her previous visit, the Koldunya’s dark brown hair now bearing plucked roses the most vivid shade of red Evelin had ever seen. Two delicate dimples appeared as the witch smiled, welcoming Evelin back.
Evelin returned the pleasantries but didn’t fail to notice the barely visible tension in Ilka’s posture as the witch stopped next to the head Koldunya, her boney shoulders slightly lifted and her fingers, though loose, curled by her side. Evelin’s visit, despite Agata’s words, wasn’t a welcomed one.
She had expected as much.
Finally, her eyes flicked to the last person of the trio. Sander’s head was cocked to the side, his blond curls falling across his forehead and swaying in the light breeze. He stood, unmoving, his gaze fixed not on Evelin but on the child she kept tucked in the embrace of her arms.
Instinctively, Evelin tightened her grip around Rafael and cleared her throat.
But Sander didn’t flinch. Instead, Agata’s voice brushed against Evelin’s ears, a melodic, alluring sound of perpetual kindness.
“The amulet has led you to us,” she said, gently dipping her chin. “You require our assistance.”
“I do,” Evelin replied as she tried her best to ignore the strangely silent Sander. “But even more so, it is my son that needs the benefits of your skills.”
Agata and Ilka simultaneously lowered their gazes onto Rafael, and a furrow formed between the boyish Koldunya’s eyebrows.
“The child has magic,” Ilka stated, her gaze now meeting Evelin’s calm but determined stare.
Masking a trembling exhale, Evelin squared her shoulders. There was nothing but the truth left to give. “Rafael had survived an attack from a wolf-man creature bearing Psoglav’s magic. He is touched by a toxin that caused White werewolves to shift right before it brought them death.”
Nothing but the truth. But not all of it.
The details of the victim’s souls belonged to Rose and Veles. Evelin would not offer them without their permission.
“Vlkolak.” Agata gasped, her calm facade slipping for the first time. “Vlkolak has survived the ages.”
“No.” Evelin’s stern voice cut through the clearing. “The wolf-man is not a threat any longer.”
A look that was remarkably similar to admiration crossed Ilka’s face. “You have destroyed the Vlkolak?”
Evelin nodded. “But something of his lives on…” Her gaze turned towards the small boy in her arms, taking in once again the green line that ran down his right leg. “All the others died. Yet the toxin didn’t affect Rafael immediately. He didn’t shift for months. Not until yesterday. By all accounts, he’s in fine health. But Rafael, he’s a White werewolf…”
She didn’t have to continue. The Kolduny with their ancient wisdom knew well enough what that implied.
“The…events…the child has lived through, they explain the presence of the magic we sense,” Agata said, now a step closer than she had been before. “But I do not understand why you need our assistance. The boy is as he is. Accept him as such.”
Evelin bit down on the growl that rose in her throat, keeping her face devoid of any emotion. “He is a werewolf, bearing ancient magic within him. He is unique. We cannot yet comprehend the volume of his strength, so we cannot raise him accordingly.”
“You have werewolf magic as well.” Agata inclined her head. “Your pack.”
To her own surprise, Evelin’s leveled gaze didn’t falter. “Even if it had been suppressed for longer than most can remember, we merely carry a bond that has been a part of our kind since the very beginning of our existence.”
She didn’t know if that was exactly true. Nobody had been able to explain the bond of The Dark Ones to them beyond what Veles had shared. But she didn’t dwell on it. Whether it formed with the first werewolf mutations or if it had developed later in time, the bond was a fundamental part of their kind, of every Black werewolf, even if it did reveal itself only under special circumstances.
“The child is important to you. Yet his power is not something we feel needs our attention,” Agata replied in a warm tone although her expression remained impassive. “But we may aid you. For a price.”
Evelin stared at the plump witch, half-wishing she could rake her claws across the Koldunya’s face. But before she managed to react, Sander lifted his gaze from Rafael, his bronze eyes digging into the emerald of Evelin’s.
“No.”
Chapter 13
Both Ilka and Agata turned towards the bronze Koldun. The clearing was eerily quiet; not even the chirping of birds carried on the spring wind any longer. A shiver ran through Evelin’s body as the sheer power of their magic touche
d her. The warmth became suffocating, heavy—it seeped into her lungs and clogged the pores of her skin.
This was a mistake. She shouldn’t have come alone.
Breathing past the potent scent of the Kolduny’s earthly energy, she forced herself to calm down, her hands finding a better grip on Rafael’s small frame. Just in case, she assured herself, knowing that unless the Kolduny manipulated nature against her, she could at least outrun them to the border. And if they followed… Well, they would be in her world.
But none of the three figures moved, as if their magic was the one carrying the silent argument. The rest of the coven was still standing in the shadows on the other end of the clearing, their faces obscured from her sight. They showed no intention of making an advance, but they were alert. Waiting. As if he sensed the tension, Rafael remained quiet in her arms, not fighting the slightly uncomfortable hold she was keeping on him.
Sander’s bronze gaze, however, remained fixed on Evelin, powerful and determined. But there was something else there, as well. Driven by some inexplicable curiosity, Evelin drank in those unnatural shimmering pools of the Koldun’s eyes, trying to unravel what lay behind them.
It was only after what seemed to her like minutes had passed that Sander shifted his muscular body to the side and instead focused his stare on the two women next to him. “We will accept the boy. And we will aid him.”
Agata bristled, and Ilka shot the Koldun a chilling glare, likely fueled by an array of silent threats. Yet Sander remained unfazed, his features chiseled into a mask of pure determination. There was none of his usual eroticism present, and the arrogance that normally oozed from the Koldun had turned into sheer authority. The kind even Evelin would think twice before challenging.
Although her body was ready to flee at any given moment, she couldn’t help but stare at the transformation.
The beefcake image everybody had conjured up from Rose’s recollection of her run-in with Sander, the image they had all seen when they visited the sacred circle. It didn’t add up.
