Page 14 of Wild Wolf

“Oh, I’m sure he’s going to be offended, but as long as they keep their brands to themselves and he finds no evidence of abuse, he’ll keep his offense to himself.”

“That leaves one last problem.”

“What now?” Dante demanded in an exasperated tone.

“There’s a wolf possibly killing people, and they haven’t caught or killed him yet. I’ve been working at a sawmill, and this guy used to work there. He’s already killed a bunch of people, so be careful.”

“I’ll let everyone know. Try not to get yourself kidnapped, killed, or do anything else I’ll regret, please. Also, thank you for calling me. I’m going to enjoy getting people herded to Russia. Make sure you eat enough.”

I sighed. “All right.” I spent a few minutes making sure he knew how to reach my cabin, warned him about Petra, and cautioned him to be careful. I returned the phone to Grigorij, and in Russian, I said, “Thank you, Grigorij Jakovlevich Maslov. If that cost you for the call, you’ll be repaid, just let me know how much I owe you.”

He scowled at me, but he nodded. “Who is this Desmond?”

“Charles Desmond. He is a man of influence.”

“Wawkalak?”

I turned to the ved’ma. “I don’t know how others from America would rank among you, but I will say this much. Branding any of them would be a very unwise idea. They would take offense to that in a rather extreme fashion. There is only so far they’ll respect your customs should they feel people have been branded without their consent. Consent is important to the Americans.”

“I see.” The ved’ma’s expression darkened. “The marks are how we warn others.”

“And in America, there is no need for such marks. I would think on that carefully and use it as an opportunity to learn. If there are those among you who did not wish to be branded, I would take care around Desmond and the other Americans.”

“Yet you tolerate it.”

As she disliked my Russian, I used it, although I tried my best to take care with my words. “Tolerate? I avoid it, and I will do what is necessary to protect myself.” I took a moment to make sure nobody listened in on us. “I choose to avoid becoming a wolf. That means nothing. I can when necessity demands it. I choose to avoid killing. That also means nothing. I will when necessity demands it. Don’t make either become necessary, ved’ma.”

I still hated how it had become necessary to kill Julie, something my wolf still grieved over.

While he appreciated the relationship between predator and prey, and he understood the concept of kill or be killed, needless death bothered him, which had cultivated my tendency to maim rather than kill.

I worried death would become a constant companion if we fully stepped into the world of the supernatural.

Like it or not, I’d find out soon enough.

True to her word, Alevtina Petrovna Volkova showed me the butchers who wouldn’t question if I bought more than a single man should, but habit and caution demanded I stick to my old methodology, although I would make more effort to spread how I shopped, hitting as many of the stores in the city as I could.

There weren’t many places in Russia, especially not compared to America, where well-stocked grocery stores could be found just about everywhere. The stores and butchers also often suffered from shortage problems, something I found to be strange.

When I’d started building my cabin, I’d run into problems like that, where I had the money but couldn’t find what I needed to buy, requiring a lengthy search. I wondered how much of the city’s food came from across the river in China, how much of it had been smuggled across, and how the locals tolerated the uncertainty so well.

Then again, did they have any other choice?

In Blagoveshchensk, the mayor ruled, the wise gave the politsiya a wide berth, and the rest of the pecking order made little sense to me, so I ignored it. Aware I would be dealing with an entire pack of cranky werewolves, I bought everything I could to bake a storm while I waited for their arrival, along with enough to eat myself into a coma. Russia had been good for my health, as had transforming and hunting across the country. I likely wasn’t up to the weight Desmond wanted me to be, but I’d lost my gaunt edge.

The ved’ma and their wawkalak continued to haunt the woods around my cabin, and I kept myself busy while waiting, finishing the construction on my fireplace and working on my next project, which involved transforming the interior into a rustic paradise and planning an extension.

A growl from Petra and the crunch of gravel warned me company had come calling, and after a few minutes, several vehicles joined in, which implied either Desmond and the rest of the Americans had come calling, or the ved’ma had opted to bring their wolves to deal with me once and for all.

My wolf did the equivalent of laugh and roll his eyes at me, and Petra continued to growl.

“Heel,” I ordered, and the wolf warbled a complaint, got up from her corner, and came to my side. I opened the door to witness the Anderson twins snarling at each other while a resigned Richard observed them. Richard’s wife bounced across my yard, hopped onto the porch, and flung herself at me.

As Richard would kill me if I allowed his wife to fall flat on her face, I caught her rather than step out of the way. Petra recoiled and tucked her tail. I set Nicolina back onto her feet. “Did you have any trouble getting here?”

“Only a little when we first arrived. The Russian witches came to greet us, and they had one of their Fenerec with them. Father saw the brand and flipped his lid over it, and that was after Dante tried to convince him not to flip his lid. There was some growling, but the Russian Fenerec convinced him that he had, in actuality, wanted to be branded like cattle. He seemed honest enough, so Father let it go.”

“Most don’t, but I warned the Russians to be careful about that.” I clicked my tongue at Petra, and the wolf returned to her spot beside me. “This is Petra. She was Bodwin’s, and she was shot. I couldn’t leave her, and I wasn’t going to kill her, either.”