“And you have the permits to do this?”
Most Russians disliked the government’s rules, obeying the critical ones to dodge the politsiya. With my ID, as legitimized a fake as I could get, I’d acquired every permit legally to dodge additional scrutiny. I went to the shelf I used for books and papers, and I grabbed the envelope with my second copies of the permit, as I had them all in triplicate. Just in case. I offered the envelope to him. “All of my permits for the property are in here.”
The uchastkovyi wasted no time sifting through them, and I finished making our coffee while he read. I brought down my Turkish coffee cups, one of my few conceits, and made use of the tray that had come with the set of four, bringing him his cup and taking a seat on the edge of my fireplace’s foundation.
“You are quite thorough, Sergei Sokolov. I am impressed.”
“I told the office what I wanted to do here, and I gave them all of the details. They issued the permits.”
“They guided you well. This is all in order. I would be interested to see the work when you have finished. By your job, I did not think you are so skilled of a worker.”
I had learned the appropriate answer to that question through unfortunate trial and error. “It was all that was available when I applied.”
“That is often the way it goes. Have you noticed anything strange lately? Anything at all? Either here or at the sawmill?”
I took my time thinking about it, although one thing did stand out to me and seemed safe enough to mention to him. “Yes, actually. Petra is unwilling to leave the yard and is eager to come back inside. She is usually far more energetic.”
“Do you think there is something in the woods?”
“I have heard the wawkalak sing in the forest, but Petra has never been quite so unwilling to roam before. It could be nothing.”
“But it could be everything. Animals always know.” My unwanted guest finished his soup and drank his coffee before rising from his seat, and to my surprise, he took the cups to my sink and set them on the counter with care. “Be careful, Sergei Sokolov. The wild wolf hunts, and I believe you are his prey.”
The uchastkovyi left, and once the rumble of his car’s engine faded, Petra growled.
Chapter Three
With the worry of a rogue werewolf hunting in the forest surrounding my home, I took the route of caution. For the first time since moving into the area, I took Petra to the city with me. That she did not warble protests over being collared and leashed worried me, as did her inclination to stick close to my legs.
Whatever lurked outside of my cabin scared the wolf enough that she jumped into my truck cab without me needing to get into an argument with her over it, and she hid on the floorboard as though that might protect her from whatever hid in the woods.
I wouldn’t be able to study with her, as I refused to leave her in the truck unattended. Tyoma wouldn’t mind me bringing my ‘dog’ to his shop as long as I kept her on a short leash, and I’d have to keep an eye on my truck when I went to buy the rest of my supplies. Ten minutes into the drive, Petra relaxed enough to take a nap.
Something was going on in Blagoveshchensk, and somehow, I’d landed in the middle of it. The sumasshedshiy volk supposedly killing my boss in addition to a co-worker changed everything.
The rogue wolf, either wild, mad, or simply vindictive, would smell that another werewolf frequented the sawmill. If other werewolves investigated, they would look closer at everyone, myself included. With so much attention on me already, I couldn’t afford to run. I also couldn’t afford to stay.
As always, I’d landed in a hot mess.
When I viewed it from the angle of men seeking out a hidden werewolf, the uchastkovyi’s reaction to my talisman made sense: I was the most likely candidate to be an unknown werewolf in the area.
Silver did bother me, as did pure iron, which sometimes made my work difficult, as iron nails and other tools frequented the sawmill. I worked around my limitations, and the times I did run into silver, I made sure to wear thick gloves, a good practice for anyone working with heavy machinery. Those precautions wouldn’t protect me forever.
I wondered how closely the wawkalak monitored me, if they had counted the full moons I hadn’t transformed, and if they’d noticed when I’d shifted during the new moon when the darkness engulfed the quiet forest, the glow from my fur the only light for miles.
Worse, I feared they’d seen me ghosting through the trees with Petra, who treated me like the leader of our pack of two. If they had, and they had noticed her with me, she might become a target. Was Petra just a wolf, or was she what happened to a human when they ran wild for too long, unable to remember being human at all?
Until Desmond and his werewolves, I hadn’t known it was possible for the wolf to take over completely.
My wolf still feared that fate, and he limited how much he pressured me to shift during the full moon and answer its call, as though he understood what would happen to us if we did become a wolf.
We had gone years without shifting before. We could do so again. And this time, my wolf understood the reasons for why.
I made it into the city, and I played to expectations as usual, going to the general store, leaving Petra in the truck long enough to ask the owner if I might bring her in, which he approved. Petra earned praise and admiration from the Russian, especially when I informed him she was a Siberian.
Petra heeled as I’d taught her, never fought the leash, and followed me around without any of her usual warbled complaints.
After the general store, I spotted the gray car that’d followed me once before parked across the street, and after loading my purchases into the cab, I ordered Petra inside, pretended I hadn’t noticed the vehicle, and went to the supply store where I’d get the remaining items I needed to finish my fireplace and begin work on my other projects. Like at the general store, I got permission to bring in my dog, made my purchases, and escaped, acting as though I hadn’t noticed my unwanted tail.
I lost an hour at the butcher, as Petra charmed the entire family, going out of her way to earn the admiration of the provider of her favorite treats. As promised, Tyoma offered her several extra bones and scraps of meat, and a few extra packages of paper-wrapped meat found their way into my cooler for the drive home.
I hoped I didn’t regret skipping out on the studying, but with the rusted-out, gray car following me, I refused to risk Petra through leaving her unattended for more than a moment or two to acquire permission to bring her out.
Unlike the last time I’d encountered the car, the driver opted to follow me out of the city, and I wondered who would be paying me a visit when I finally made it home.
Petra amused herself on the floorboard with one of her new bones, and the car tailed me all the way home. I parked, growled to warn Petra things were not going as I wanted, and got out of the truck. Petra took the hint, and she stuck close to my side and growled at the interloper’s vehicle, her ears turned back and her teeth exposed.
Any other day, I would have corrected her, but I kept one hand on her leash, ready to release her if I thought things would sour.
I expected things to sour.
A woman emerged from the vehicle, and everything about her put me on edge, from her pristine face, clear of even a hint of a blemish, her youth, which put her in her early twenties at most, and her poise, which reminded me a lot of Amber, who carried herself with the confidence of someone who rarely experienced failure. She opened the back door of her car, revealing a wolf twice the size of Petra, with a dark red coat bridled with black and white-tipped ears. He regarded me and Petra with open interest, one ear pricked forward while the other twisted back.