Billi turned and picked up her pistol and emptied the magazine, throwing the 9mm rounds into the bushes. The steel-jacketed bullets were man-killers, but she needed wolf-killers. She loaded in fifteen of Lance’s silver bullets.
Ivan groaned as he eased himself against the rock. The alcove under the rock was cold, but with enough pine branches the worst of the wind was cut off.
Billi shuffled in next to Ivan and checked his splint.
Then they huddled together under blankets while using the flight map and GPS to establish their approximate position. South was the Pripyat River, which crossed through into Belarus and Ukraine beyond. Maybe, if the river wasn’t totally iced up, they could organize a lift from a boat. Or at least Ivan could. Billi still had work to do.
The leg looked even worse in the firelight. Billi had done her best to patch the deep cut, but the crude bandages-torn strips of blanket-were already soaked. Ivan just lay there, eyes closed, utterly still. No breath stirred. Billi touched his hand.
Her heart seemed to stop. It was ice-cold.
“Ivan?”
“Mmm?” His eyelids fluttered and opened.
“Just checking.”
Thank you, God.
He looked up at her, grimly determined, grimly hanging on. Ivan wasn’t going to die tonight.
Billi swallowed back her tears. Not like this. She’d already lost Kay-she wouldn’t lose Ivan too. Whatever was ahead she would face it with Ivan. No matter what.
Then she sat listening to the trees groaning in the wind.
“Tell me about Arthur,” said Ivan. He lay against the rock, gazing into the fire. Billi lowered the scarf she’d wrapped around her face. “What makes you think I want to discuss my dad with you?”
Ivan laughed. “Billi, what difference could it possibly make now?”
The flames waved and hissed as the snowflakes danced. Her father had brought her up ever since her mother had been murdered. “It’s been him and me since I was five.”
“Is that why you wanted to be a Templar? To be like him?” Billi shook her head. “No. He made me join the Order. I hated him.”
Hated him. Yes, it was true. She had hated him for years. Her training had begun at ten, and it had been brutal. Most of the scars Ivan had seen had come from her countless hours in the armory. The more you bleed in practice, the less you bleed in battle. That’s what her father believed. So she’d practiced with swords, with daggers, with anything that couldbe calleda weapon. Again and again she’d turned up at school with bruises or cuts, even with a broken wrist once. But her dad had only pushed her harder so that when the time came, she’d be ready.
And the time had come, sooner than expected. She’d faced the Angel of Death and she had been ready.
“Then I understood why my father was the way he was. I saw things differently.”
“What changed?” Ivan shuffled closer, adjusting the blanket so it covered them both.
“Kay. The boy I killed.” She closed her eyes and there he was.
She stares into his eyes as creeping death turns them dull. His blood is warm on her hand as it trickles along the blade, and his chest slowly rises, then sinks.
“It’s okay, Billi,” he says. His breath is warm with fading life. Then his breath stops.
“I loved him and I killed him. I had no choice.” Billi felt her chest tightening.
“Is that how you feel now? That you have no choice?” Ivan put his hand on Billi’s. “That to stop Baba Yaga you must kill Vasilisa?”
Billi sighed and gazed deep into the flames.
“This is what your father would do, yes?”
“Maybe my dad’s way is the only way.” Billi blinked and drew her sleeve across her face.
Elaine’s clues to destroying Baba Yaga were useless without the figurine, and they were running out of time and options. Billi had to prepare herself. She had to be more like Arthur: cold and heartless. That seemed to be her future, no matter what. To be like her father. Just like her father.
“That is a sad way to live, I think.”
Billi turned sharply, but she could see that Ivan didn’t meanitasa criticism. Justa fact. There wasno arguing with the truth.
“For a Templar, it’s the only way,” she answered. She was afraid of what he must think of her. But Ivan said nothing. He just put his arm around her.
“My father had noble ideals. He knew that evil had to be fought, and that good men died.” Ivan stared into the flames, lost in old memories. “I wish I had fought beside him.” He looked at Billi, smiling softly. “I will fight beside you, Billi.”
He trusted her, and Billi was grateful for that.
The night had become eerily silent. Billi hadn’t noticed the gale die away, but now her breathing seemed to be the loudest thing in the forest. The fire was going well; the flames cast their caressing heat over them both, and the rock face glowed with soft orange light.
Billi closed her eyes as Ivan brushed loose strands of hair away from her face, and his fingertips grazed her cheek. He kissed her forehead, his lips leaving a warm imprint on her skin. Billi raised her head and felt his lips press down onto hers, as his hands went to the back of her head, urgently pulling her closer. If the world ended tomorrow, at least she’d have this.
The snow crunched as a weight settled on it. The musty smell of the forest was joined with a new odor: the arrival of a hunter.
Billi sprang up, staring into the darkness. She held out her hand, and without saying anything, Ivan slapped the Glock into her palm. The flames from the aircraft had withered to a few smoldering embers, but the shallow circle was still lit by their dull, golden glow. Beyond it was a dark tapestry, impossible to penetrate.
The hairs on her nape stiffened as the barest breeze whispered out of the encompassing blackness like a curse. It was cold, and on it was the stench of blood.
Alone wolf stepped into the clearing. The tree branches overhead cast a net of phantom light and darkness over its silvery fur, so it looked as if it were built of shadows. Its lips turned up on either side of its snout, revealing long, ivory fangs.
Billi breathed slowly as she raised the pistol.
“You going to shoot it?” whispered Ivan.
“Just wait.”
It was pure wolf except the eyes. They were human-light brown and glowing softly in the darkness. A loony, then. Billi wondered why it wasn’t in its monstrous form-half-man half-beast. Maybe over time the wolf aspect grew stronger until one day it awoke, forgetting it had ever walked on two legs. It patrolled back and forth in the shadows, wary but testing. There was about sixteen feet between them, but Billi knew it could cover that in an instant. If the first bullet didn’t kill it, then she was dead meat.
What are you waiting for? Billi cursed. Just take a step into the light and give me one clear shot.
But the creature’s haunches stayed loose and relaxed, even though the hairs on its shoulders bristled with eagerness. It wasn’t stupid.
Then it threw back its head and howled. It closed its eyes as it did, and the wild song was long, powerful, and deep. Billi felt the sound down to her bones.
Eventually the beast dropped its head, tongue lolling in its black-gummed jaws. The sound of its cry echoed before disappearing into the sparkling night.
For a moment the forest listened silently. Even the trees stopped their incessant murmuring.
Then, out in the distance, the howl was answered.
More wolves called to the silver one, each cry adding on to and amplifying the one before. The sounds rolled over the forest like a wave, soaking Billi and Ivan with fear.
Ivan’s fist held his crutch as if it were a club, but he faltered, most of his strength gone. Billi scanned her surroundings.
“We have to move,” she said. She glanced at the wolf, but it was already retreating into the darkness. It would wait for the pack, then they would attack together.