by Amy Sumida
“As you say.”
“It's been a long day and we need to get back to our daughter,” I said. “How about we go tomorrow, and I can attempt to find Mokosh's trail from there?”
“Shall ve meet here again?” Jarilo asked.
“Sure,” I agreed after Kirill nodded at me.
“Vhat time?” Perun asked.
“No; I'm not taking you into her territory vithout her zere,” Jarilo declared.
“Jarilo,” Perun growled.
“No,” Jarilo repeated firmly. “I vill contact you if ve find anything.”
Perun let out a long exhale and nodded. “All right but you should not turn nose up at help offered, Son.”
“Don't call me—” Jarilo trailed off as Perun traced away. He sighed then turned to me. “I'll see you two tomorrow. Ten o'clock?”
“Sure.”
“Zank you again.” Jarilo traced away.
“Some family issues there, eh?” UnnúlfR asked.
“You can say that.” I shared a grimace with Kirill. “Thanks for helping us today; you saved us a lot of time.”
“Our pleasure,” Veja said. “How about dinner?”
“Oh. Uh, sure, if we can find a restaurant that will take all of us, I'd be happy to buy you dinner.”
“No, Vervain.” Veja laughed. “I meant; how about you come back to our home for dinner? You have to pick up Lesya anyway.”
“Oh! That's even better than trying to find a restaurant that can feed fifty werewolves.”
“Ve accept,” Kirill translated my answer. “Zank you.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
I dreamed of water that night—a great tunneling downspout of it—and Toby. If I'd still been with him, I would have insisted we return to the God Realm and get his help. As it was, I was only haunted by Toby's memory.
I was sliding down the cone of water—or air rather—that we'd made in the Pacific Ocean, directly above Iya and Eros' lair. Breaking through their ward. Striding through the damp tunnels. We'd been in search of Fand, a water sidhe, and the captive she'd taken; the High Prince of Faerie, Lugh. My feet were bare for some reason; details shifting in the way they do in dreams. Then I was naked; on hands and knees with Toby behind me. Forced to have sex over and over; compelled by Eros' magic but at Iya's command.
Toby's hand was in my hair, pulling my head back. Our bodies slapped together wetly, a counterpart to the water that dripped around us; ocean seeping through stone. Caught in Eros' magic, I was aroused to the point of being mindless. I saw Iya standing before me again, his shaft held before my mouth. In reality, Toby had gone into a rage and stopped Iya, but in the dream, Toby just continued to slam into me and that slick member, wet from Eros' attentions, pressed against my lips.
I tried to scream but couldn't. The only sound was Iya's laughter and the slap of sex. Hands clenched at my hips and around my head; both holding me still for invasion. Arousal rode me hard, but I was still aware—even as I parted my lips—that I didn't want this. My stomach soured. If he stuck that thing in my mouth, I might just throw-up all over it. Wouldn't that be perfect?
“I'll bite it off,” I found the strength to growl.
Iya laughed. I clenched my teeth together. He'd have to pry my jaw open. But then there was something in my mouth. A gag? The feeling brought me surging out of the dream. I blinked, lashes crushed, mouth full of pillow. I was on my hands and knees just as I'd been in the dream, except my head was pushed down and hips lifted. The slap of sex followed me from my nightmare and into reality. My body bucked forward with the strength of a man's thrusts; only the wall stopping my momentum.
My heart lurched as I craned my neck to look over my shoulder, half expecting to find Toby there. It wasn't Toby. Of course not. Kirill knelt behind me; hands tight on my hips and pelvis working rapidly. His sculpted chest was slick with sweat, muscles tightening and releasing in breathtaking beauty. His hair, braided back for sleep, hung behind him, out of the way of that incredible view.
I would have sighed and sunk into pleasure. I would have admired what was mine; traced the sharp and smooth edges of Kirill's face with my gaze then admired his beautiful body. I would have lifted up and pushed back onto his shaft. If it hadn't been for his eyes.
Kirill's stare was vacant. He looked at me but didn't see me. Or perhaps he saw me, but not as I was. His body moved as if driven to, his expression tight with determination, and he murmured words in Russian.
“Kirill?” I called to him.
He flinched.
“Kirill!”
Kirill bent over me, his hands going to the bed to prop himself up as his body surged deeper.
I bucked at him. “Kirill!”
Kirill snarled and shoved me flat onto the mattress. His knees pushed my thighs wide apart, and his shaft pierced me mercilessly. I was half aroused from my dream—something it pains me to admit, but my body had remembered the feelings Eros imposed on it—and seeing Kirill had aroused me even more. Even with the panic rising above my lust, I still moaned when one of Kirill's hands went flat to slide beneath my belly then down to my sex. He began to rub urgently at my clit.
“Kirill,” it came out as a moan.
“Vervain,” he finally said a word I understood.
Then he growled something that sounded like “cock.” I blinked. Okay. Sure, he's been known to talk dirty; it wasn't all that surprising. But I didn't have much time to process. I was spiraling upward into ecstasy, driven there by Kirill's relentless hand and, yes, his cock. Mind spinning, mouth moaning, and body writhing, I called out his name once more.
Kirill groaned into a ragged roar, emptied himself into me, and collapsed. His rapid breathing warmed my cheek then hitched. He lifted himself, and I looked up at him.
“Vervain?” Kirill asked in confusion.
“You back?”
“From vhere?” Kirill rolled to the side, shivered, and stared at me as if he'd never seen me before. Correction; he stared at me as if he had just realized that I was there. “Vhat did I do?”
I rolled up into a sitting position before I answered, “I woke up with you inside me. I think you were dreaming.”
“Dreaming and... having sex vith you?” He pushed up to mirror me.
“Yeah. You were speaking in Russian.” I smirked at him. “You said something about a cock. Hopefully, your cock.”
“Vhat?” Kirill gaped at me. Then he blinked. “Cock vhat?”
“What do you mean; cock vhat?” I imitated him.
He grimaced, confusion morphing into irritation, and I laughed.
“Vhat exactly did I say?” Kirill tried again.
“I don't know.” I frowned. “You said a lot of things I didn't understand and then you said my name.”
“And?”
“And”—I made an amused sound—“I swear, you said 'cock.'”
“Kak,” he said it differently.
“Yeah, that. What does it mean?”
“Not much on its own. Vhich is vhy I asked vhat else I said.”
“Oh... um.” I frowned as I tried to remember. “It sounded like.. ha.. tea cha. Hot tea. You wanted some chai tea maybe?”
“Kak khotite,” Kirill went Russian again. Then he sounded it out slower, “Kaw-k ha-tee-cha?”
“Yeah, that was it!”
Kirill chuckled and relaxed. “Zat makes sense.”
“Why? What does it mean?”
“It means; as you wish.”
“Like in The Princess Bride?”
Kirill chuckled harder. “Da, like Princess Bride. But I zink I meant it more... sexually.”
“Oh.” I recalled his hand slipping beneath me. “Oh! Yeah. Well.” I grinned. “It's nice to know I invade your dreams.”
“You invade my everything, Tima.” Kirill leaned forward to kiss me.
I rose onto my knees and straddled his lap to kiss him. We were just getting back into the mood when my sensitive ears picked up the sound of little lioness footsteps coming downstairs. Kiri
ll must have heard them too because he pulled away gently and grinned at me.
“Back to parenthood,” I lamented.
“An ordeal I gladly endure.” Kirill helped me off the bed then stood. “I'll start breakfast.”
“Thank you,” I called after him as he went out the door.
Happy sounds of father and daughter and cooking started to filter back to me as I headed to the bathroom. I did my morning/post-sex business then washed up. As the water ran over my hands, I remembered my dream. Not the horror parts of it but the beginning. The downspout.
“Why am I such an idiot?” I growled at my reflection.
I hurried through washing my face and brushing my teeth then yanked on my clothes. I'd need to get some waterproof boots. Galoshes, I think you call them. We could stop in town. I strode out into the cabin's main room. Kirill was bare-chested at the little stove, Lesya sitting on the counter beside him. He looked over his shoulder at me with a smile then froze.
“Vhat is it?”
“All of that water-pushing yesterday was a waste of time,” I declared. “We need to sail over the lake and try to find the entrance to the Vodyanoys' home, not just a random vodyanoy. And I have more options than I thought.”
“Vhat other options?”
“I've got a breathing pearl in Faerie.” I grinned at him. “I wouldn't have to manipulate the water if I used the pearl; I could just dive in.”
“How many pearls do you have?” He asked pointedly.
I grimaced then said, “I could get another. I think.”
Kirill made a face at me then dramatized it and turned it on Lesya. She giggled.
“Mommy likes to run off on her own. Do not follow her example.”
“Yes, Daddy.”
“Okay, then downspouts it is,” I decided.
“Downspouts?” Kirill frowned and flipped an egg. “You mean like ven ve vent after Iya?”
“Exactly.” I grinned. “You weren't the only one dreaming last night.”
I lost a little of my smile as I remembered the rest of the nightmare. Why is it that one trauma stirs up others that I think I've gotten over? Maybe it was the water thing reminding me of Toby, which would remind me that Toby was gone, which would remind me of how we had reunited the last time, which would then give me nightmares. The brain is a funny, tangent-loving thing.
“Vervain?” Kirill asked in concern.
“I'm fine.” I turned to go back into the bedroom. “I just need to call Jarilo.”
“How vould you like to visit your friend again today?” I heard Kirill ask Lesya.
I grimaced at my phone. This was supposed to be a family holiday and there I was chasing after a missing goddess and dumping my daughter on her uncle. My hand started to droop, laying the cellphone back in my purse. What should I do? Should I tell Jarilo that I changed my mind? Sorry, I can't help you find your mother because I need to be a good mother to my daughter. I didn't know this guy. This wasn't my problem. But, it's hard to turn away from someone when you can help them. Especially when you're likely the only one who can.
“Damn!” I whispered.
“Vervain.” Kirill stood in the doorway. “It's fine. I vill extend our stay so ve can have more time vith Lesya. Ze others vill understand.”
“How did you know what I was thinking? I didn't feel you in my head.” I smiled softly at him.
Kirill tapped his chest, right over his heart. “You invade my everything.”
“I love you, Lion,” I whispered and went to hug him.
“I love you too,” he murmured into my hair then set me back. “Now, call Jarilo. I vill call UnnúlfR. I have feeling he vill vant to join us again.”
“Those two need a hobby.” I rolled my eyes.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Jarilo had a boat ready and waiting for us. We had to meet in a new location; the docks. Kirill had been right; Veja and UnnúlfR wanted to join us again but this time they were the only ones to join us. Mainly because we didn't know how big a boat Jarilo would get.
Kirill and I drove down to the dock with Lesya first—stopping briefly in town to buy us both some rubber boots to wear over our regular ones—then Kirill took our daughter to the Vilkacis and returned with Vejasmate and UnnúlfR. It was a good thing that we hadn't brought more wolves with us, the fishing boat Jarilo rented was just big enough for the five of us to fit comfortably. There wasn't a cabin below, just the flat deck and a covered space with two swiveling chairs bolted down.
“I don't know how big of an area I can clear,” I said as Jarilo steered us toward the center of the lake. “Or how long I can hold it open.”
“Exposing his lair may be enough to force Vodyanik's hand,” Jarilo said. “If ve can just find the door.”
An image of the giant downspout filled my mind. Ocean water pulled away to expose an entrance in the sandy floor. It had taken several gods to manipulate that water but a lake wasn't half as deep or even a fraction as wide as the Pacific and based on my efforts of the day before, I believed I could manage it on my own. Part of me wanted my other men with us—even insisted on it—but a bigger part of me wanted Kirill to have this. I had a feeling it was about more than being in his country and being an alpha. Kirill, like me, wanted a glimpse of what life would have been like if it had been only us. He wanted to know if he would have been enough; not only for me but also for my destiny.
So, I bit back the words and swallowed them. “Do you know the approximate location?” I asked instead.
“Center of lake.” Jarilo shrugged. “Deepest part is vhere zey supposed to live.”
“Makes sense,” UnnúlfR stared over the side of the boat, into the passing water.
“Uncomfortable?” I asked the wolf.
He grimaced at me. “Wolves don't mind water but it's not our favorite place to be. Especially when it's as cold as this water is.”
“To tell you the truth, I'm not so great with it either.”
“You have water magic,” UnnúlfR scoffed.
“I got it with the Moon. It's not as if I was born with it.”
“You lived in Hawaii,” he added.
“Again, not my choice; I was born there. I've never been a big fan of water and nearly drowning a few times has only increased my dislike. I think it's the dragon in me.”
“But weren't you with a water god?” UnnúlfR took it too far.
I went still, and Kirill made a low sound in his throat; a warning.
Veja smacked UnnúlfR on his bicep. “Tact, sweetheart; learn some.”
It had the desired effect and made us all laugh. Even better, we were laughing at UnnúlfR, and he had the grace to embrace it and grin.
“Sorry, Sis.”
I froze again. UnnúlfR had made references to our familial ties before, but he'd never called me his sister, much less the informal “sis.” His role in the Froekn was similar to Kirill's in the Intare; an enforcer. It was an unspoken position that he'd taken on himself ever since he'd been betrayed by a lover and the betrayal had nearly cost him his family. Now that I was thinking about it, UnnúlfR's whole demeanor had changed considerably since being with Vejasmate. The big bad wolf had lightened up.
“What?” UnnúlfR growled at me. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“I just... can I call you bro?”
He snorted. “If you like.”
“Holy hand grenade of Antioch,” I whispered in wonder. Then I looked at Veja. “Thank you.”
Veja chuckled.
“Why are you thanking her?” UnnúlfR growled.
“Because she changed you. For better,” Kirill explained then lifted his stare to me. “Best vomen always do.”
UnnúlfR grunted but didn't protest.
“Ve're here,” Jarilo announced.
He cut off the engine and we bobbed to a stop. Lakes, if they're large enough, have their own currents, usually swirling clockwise. It's all due to wind and temperature and things I don't know a lot about. But I do know that currents
make it difficult to keep a boat in one position without an anchor. If it happens to be a calm day, which it was, that helps a little. Barely any wind brushed the surface of the lake. That being said, water still slapped gently against the hull, stirred more by things within the water than without.
I went to the back of the boat and eyed the murky depths. Were there frog men down there even now, staring back at me warily? Were they circling the boat? Damn, but I hate the water. Especially deep, dark, cold water. Why did I have to suggest we go out in the middle of a bunch of it?
