Blood Moon (30 page)

The options were limited. She could probably run and outdistance their pursuers, but the male would have no chance. Similarly, in a direct confrontation, they would be at a disadvantage if there was more than one stalking them. And she was certain that there was more than one of them. That meant the only viable option was to change the odds in their favour. She growled at the male, letting him know that he should continue on without her, and to increase his speed as much as he could. The male didn’t understand the reasons why, but he complied, picking up his pace and trotting off into the forest. She waited until he was out of sight, then veered sharply off to the left, darting through the trees at right angles to the male as fast as she was able. If nothing else, this should split the pack of wolves that followed them. As long as the male was not alerted to the presence of the pursuers, his more relaxed pace would, she hoped, mean that the others would not have the urgency in intercepting him. Of course, they could all attack the injured male now that she had left his side, but she hoped that her more energetic run would draw them to her, to prevent her escape so they could finish the male off at their leisure. A calculated risk, but not one she saw any way around.

She vaulted a log, sending a shower of snow into the air behind her, then turned to the left again and raced through the forest towards where she’d sensed the other wolves. It was a dangerous gambit. Until she drew level with them, they would know exactly where she was by her scent on the wind. She hoped they would simply think she was fleeing and pursue her, not realising that she was about to go on the offensive. There it was, the scent again. Five of them. Two continued after the male while three broke away and began running towards where they’d last caught her scent. She turned towards them, angling herself to remain downwind, moving through the forest as silently as a shadow. As she’d hoped, the three wolves began spreading out in a wide semi circle, hoping to catch her within it, not realising that she was already outside of their sphere of influence. They would, she knew, widen their search radius and attempt to get downwind once more when they failed to detect her. She hoped that by the time that happened, she would have killed at least one of them.

She began her approach to the closest one, creeping forward at a slow but steady pace. This one’s scent seemed very familiar to her, but the corresponding images and thoughts that flashed through her mind were, again, alien. She saw an old human when the beast before her was clearly a wolf like her. She tensed her muscles, curling back her lips to expose her fangs. The old wolf was oblivious to her approach. She would be on him before he even registered her presence. She prepared to pounce, but froze as she heard a growl from directly behind her.

There had been more of them than she realised. Another group following behind the vanguard. She’d circled behind the first but had been completely unaware of the second. She knew the mistake would cost her and the male their lives. There was no way that she could hope to fight so many. The best she would be able to do was ensure that their victory was costly.

The other three creatures joined the five behind her, forming a wide circle around her, cutting off any avenue of escape. She whined, then snarled at the other wolves, baring her teeth in a futile gesture of aggression. Then something strange happened.

The old male that she’d been about to pounce on walked forward and lay down on the ground before her. She backed away a step, not knowing what to expect. Then the old wolf rolled over and exposed its belly in a show of submission. She had not expected that at all, and although the temptation to surge forward and eviscerate the creature was strong, the wolf’s actions and the nagging feeling of familiarity stayed her hand. The old wolf got to his feet and backed away a few steps, head low and ears flat. Then its body began to crack and contort. Bones shattering beneath the flesh, rupturing and twisting into new, unfamiliar shapes. The wolf’s thick grey hair retreated into its skin, and its vicious fangs pushed their way back into the rapidly shortening snout. The she-wolf took another step back, whimpering. This was not natural. This was not how things were supposed to be. And yet, again, there was a familiarity about the horrific process. As if she’d seen it somewhere before. Perhaps even experienced it.

Within a matter of moments, the old wolf had gone, and in its place stood an elderly naked human. “Bozhe moi! I am getting too old for this. Marie? Do you recognise me? It’s Steffan. Please, Marie, try to remember who you are.”

The old man’s words resonated through her. How could she understand them? Steffan? The name was one of the alien phrases that her mind had conjured when she caught his scent. Marie? The name seemed familiar. Marie? Marie Marie Marie. The she-wolf played the noise over and over in her mind, feeling the shape of it, allowing herself to immerse in the array of images that flashed through her consciousness. Her eyes widened in recognition, and then an agonising pain tore through her. She howled in confusion, then yelped as her talons retracted themselves into her paws, which separated and began to stretch. Her skin burned as thousands of thick hairs pushed their way back into her pores. Her face was the worst. Every nerve ending in her mouth was ablaze with bright blue streaks of agony. Every tooth crying out in torment at once. Her body was aflame with pain, the likes of which she’d never experienced… or had she? Even in the midst of this terrible, never ending torment, she felt a pang of familiarity. As if this were something she’d experienced time and time again.

Then, as suddenly as it had begun, the pain stopped. She shivered and looked down at her naked body. Her naked human body. She whimpered, but it only came out as a groan. The old man stood over her. “Steady, Marie. You’ve been in your wolf form for too long. It may take a little time for your memories to return. You’re safe now. We’ve come to take you and Mikhail home.”

4th January 2009. Krasnaya Presnya, Moscow. 14:25

Michael walked to the window and raised the stump of his right arm, then shook his head and pushed back the curtain with his left hand. The loss of his arm was going to take some getting used to. Even now he struggled to remember everything that had happened, only that the train they encountered would have killed them both if Marie hadn’t managed to break through the door to the service tunnel in time. As it was, he had been a fraction of a second too slow, and the speeding goods train had torn his trailing arm off at the elbow. After that, things had become a blur. A sequence of images flowing into one another with no real concept of time or place. They’d escaped from the tunnel via the service tunnels, that much he’d been sure of, but how they’d got out of the compound beyond, or how Marie had managed to keep them on course after their humanity had been subsumed by the animal part of their nature, he had no idea. He only knew that without her, he would certainly have died.

It felt strange to be in a house after so long in his wolf form. Claustrophobic. He cast his eyes across the frozen Moskva River and the snow-covered buildings, wanting little more than to be back in the woods. It had been a simpler existence. Cleaner. Now that he was back in his human form, and his memories had begun to return, the burden of responsibility weighed heavily on him.

Steffan had refused to talk to them about what had occurred in the last few weeks, insisting that they needed time to recover properly and allow their human aspect to become dominant once more. He could see the sense in that, he supposed. The transition back to human had been unlike anything he’d experienced before. Even after Bosnia, when they’d stayed in wolf form for two days, he’d never known such a complete loss of self. If Steffan hadn’t found them when he did, they might never have come back from it, spending the rest of their lives stalking deer in the forests.

The bathroom door opened, letting a billowing cloud of steam into the room. Marie strode into the living room wrapped in an enormous white towel, with another smaller one around her head. She gave him a small smile. “I thought I was never going to get the smell of wet dog out of me. I swear, if I’d scrubbed any harder I’d have taken my skin off. And you would not believe some of the places I found twigs.”

Michael smiled at her. “Spare me the details, please.”

She gave him a lopsided grin, then finished rubbing the towel through her hair, wincing as her fingers caught in the tangles. “What I wouldn’t give for a bottle of conditioner right now. And a decent razor. The way my legs look, you’d think I hadn’t changed back.”

“Well, maybe Steffan will pick something up at the shop. He said he needed to go and pick up supplies.”

Marie rolled her eyes. “Knowing the pair of you, he went to pick up a bottle of vodka. Did he say anything while I was in the bathroom?”

“No. Said he wanted to let us get back into a proper human mindset before he discussed anything. I didn’t like his tone, though. Something’s wrong. More wrong than usual, anyway. Did you see the date? We were wolves for a week and a half. The way things escalated during the last few months, I’m not sure I want to know what’s happened.”

Marie’s expression darkened. “You can bet that if something has gone tits up, Krysztof’s big, stupid Armenian fingerprints are all over it. I take it you’ve realised what’s wrong with this place?”

Michael hadn’t seen anything amiss, but it was hardly surprising. Marie was trained to notice the small details that would mean the difference between life and death out in the field. His skills were more attuned to the big picture. Still, he didn’t like his sister’s tone and began scanning the room, looking for anything out of place. It took him a few minutes, but then he noticed the clean area amidst the dust on the sideboard where a television had recently been. He looked for a telephone, and similarly discovered a light area around the socket that would have, until recently, housed an internet micro filter. He frowned. “No TV, no phone, no internet. Steffan really meant it when he said he wanted to talk to us later.”

Marie finished drying her hair and flopped down in the chair opposite him. “I don’t like it. I get that he doesn’t want us picking information up out of context, or tipping anyone off that we’re in town, but this is… off.” She got to her feet and walked across to the front door, reached out and turned the handle. “Locked. And this door is a lot heavier than it looks. It’s been reinforced. Same goes for the frame and hinges. I don’t think I’d be able to get through this, even in wolf form.”

Michael felt an unfamiliar flutter of fear in his stomach. “Steffan’s probably just taking precautions. You know how cautious he can be.”

Marie shook her head. “I don’t know, Michael. This could just be a secure location, but it’s starting to feel like a prison cell with carpets and a sofa. How sure are you that we can trust Steffan?”

“Marie, this is Steffan we’re talking about. For God’s sake, he’s been like a father to us both. Apart from you, there’s no one I trust more.”

Marie walked across to the window and examined the frame and glass. Then she began tapping the plaster of the external walls, listening intently as her knuckles rapped against the solid wall. She disappeared into the kitchen, then went through each bedroom before going back into the bathroom. “Michael, this is more than secure. The glass is bulletproof and the whole damn place is hardened. Window frames, walls and doors. The floor and ceiling are solid concrete all the way through. And try to listen for any other noises? Or scents?”

Michael cocked his head and strained his hearing. In a building like this, he should have been able to pick up conversations in adjacent apartments, but there was silence. He brought his wolf a little way further up, which, in theory, should have allowed him to hear every conversation in the building, but all he could hear was the steady thrum of his and Marie’s heartbeats and the groan of the antique heating system. He sniffed the air and again, could sense nothing at all beyond the confines of the apartment. This was wrong. This was
all
wrong. He prayed that Steffan had simply brought them here, to this sealed building, to keep them away from the prying eyes and noses of the Moonborn pack factions, but the doubts that had been gnawing at the edge of his nerves leaped fully formed into his mind. He sighed. “You’re right. We need to be ready to move.”

Marie nodded, and disappeared into the bedroom – emerging a few minutes later wearing a pair of light jogging bottoms, trainers and a loose fitting sweatshirt several sizes too big for her. She shrugged as she noticed his expression. “It’s not like we’ve been left with much in the way of clothing. Better than nothing though. So… what’s the plan?”

“There’s not a lot we can do until Steffan gets back. I hope we’re just being paranoid, but if we’re not, then at least he’ll have the key to the front door. Honestly, though, if Steffan’s turned then we are basically fucked. He’s the only ally I thought I could count on. If we don’t have him on side then we need to get the hell out of here.”

She nodded. “I agree. We’re right in the heart of pack territory here, so we’re both going to be twitchy and nervous, but if I get even a hint of bullshit from Steffan, we get the fuck out. I’m thinking Australia or a nice, secluded island in the south pacific. Somewhere warm.”

He smiled, in spite of himself. “That does sound like a plan. Warm sun, sand and a cold mojito. Better than winter in Moscow. For the record, though, the more I think about it, the more I’m sure we’re just jumping to conclusions. Steffan would never betray us.”

The lock clicked, and the reinforced door swung open. Steffan stood framed in the doorway, with a pack member holding a submachine gun on either side of him. The old man’s face seemed to sag, as if he’d aged decades in the last few hours. A large, hulking figure pushed its way past Steffan and grinned at them. Krysztof gave a mock bow. “Greetings, my friends. You have no idea how very glad I am to see you both.”

Marie looked across at her brother and raised an eyebrow. She didn’t say a word. She didn’t have to. Her meaning was clear. They were both absolutely fucked.