Page 88 of Deviant Need

We drive down the long driveway, and the farmhouse comes into view, an old wooden structure surrounded by dense trees that cast everything in shadow. Two buildings sit behind the main house where Calder keeps his chickens and workshop. He doesn’t let many people onto his property. I’ve only been here a handful of times, and always with Yulian.

You’d think someone like him would live in some horror movie dungeon, but it’s actually nice. Well-maintained, quiet, private. I spot his ’68 dark red El Camino sitting outside next to Yulian’s Porsche.

We get out and head toward the house. Tank starts barking his head off before we even make it to the door. It swings open, and Calder stands there wearing an acid wash kimono with nothing underneath, holding onto his pug’s collar to stop him from launching himself at us. He raises an eyebrow and looks us over for a moment before stepping aside without saying anything, letting us in.

We step inside, and I’m hit with the chaos immediately. Dark orange walls covered in vintage neon signs, furniture in every color thrown together without any logic, road signs and strange pictures plastered everywhere, weird things decorating every surface. It shouldn’t work, but somehow it does. I love it. All the colors feel right.

Calder sets Tank on the floor and tilts his head. “Did you miss me, or is this a wellness check? Because I swear, the hand in your mother’s freezer wasn’t mine. If she says it was, she’s lying—Yulian did it.”

What the fuck?

“Where is he? We need to talk to him,” Mikhail says.

“He’s not in the mood for you right now. He’s busy.”

“Busy with what?”

He rolls his eyes. “Nothing that concerns you.”

That’s weird. And vague.

Yulian appears behind Calder and raises his eyebrows, crossing his arms. He’s wearing a black suit with a tie. “I’m really not in the mood for you after what you pulled at that lunch. Both of you can leave.”

“There was a reason for it,” Mikhail blurts out.

“Yeah? What was that? Being a dickhead?” Yulian says flatly. “Fuck you, Mikhail. After you two left, our father punched me and then said he would cut off my Vegas operations if I don’t get better numbers for him.”

He turns and walks off dramatically. Calder rubs his temple with a sigh, then follows.

Tank runs straight for me, and I crouch down to pet him. He leans into my hand, tail wagging, and I scoop him up. Mikhail stares at me like I’ve lost my mind.

“That demon lets you pet him? Watch it, he bites.”

Tank has never bitten me, so I have no idea what he’s talking about. Mikhail walks off after Calder, and I follow, Tank still in my arms.

Cows moo in the distance, and I hear the occasional chickens clucking. Calder owns these silkie chickens that look like someone dipped them in glue and threw them into a pile of hair. His grandmother owns the farm with cows next door.

We find Yulian in the living room, standing by the window with his arms still crossed. He doesn’t turn around when we enter.

“We need your help,” Mikhail says.

“Nyet, asshole.”

“Yulian, come on.”

“I said no.”

“It was a distraction,” Mikhail says.

Yulian finally turns around and narrows his eyes. “A distraction for what?”

Mikhail glances at me, then back at Yulian. “We needed to get into Father’s office for information.”

“Information about what?”

“About Danya. He took a DNA test, and we’ve been trying to find his biological family.”

“You’re so dead.” Yulian starts laughing and shakes his head. “He’s going to kill you. Last time you asked him these questions as a kid, he beat the shit out of you and broke your arm. Told you to never bring it up again. What are you two thinking?”