return to content catalog »

"Working title -- The Nightmare of Russia" by gsjames

A story story about a man who is a werewolf and his new partner. If anyone has a title idea I'd love some in put!

Category: Short Story

Tags: Russia, werewolf, werewolves, assassin, fiction, fantasy, girl, man, witch, vampire,

You can do an inline review of this work in the review tab.

G. S. James

Mrs. Takamori

ToG year 3

1/14/09

The Nightmare of Russia

Russian wolves are legendary for their ferocity. Their bloodthirsty attacks on mankind echo in timeless legend, but what about the nightmares themselves. To understand the words of the solitary howl in the night, or icy cry in the dark would find a far different being than that of legends. Perhaps one would see that the anguish of a nightmare is often the same as becoming one yourself.


“BIANCA!”

Lavrent sat upright in his bed. He wiped the sweat from his eyes and gasped for more breath. Each night was the same; Bianca was missing. Morning was no longer any comfort, in that, she was gone.

“Just a dream, nothing more,” he panted, slumping back onto his bed. He groaned rolling over in his bed. Somehow waking up alone proved just as disappointing as relieving. It was better; he told himself, better to never let that dream come true. Bianca was probably a hundred miles from here. Safe and sound.

The clock flashed 12:32 p.m. explaining the streams of light breaking through the blackout curtain on the other side of his room. He stumbled up to let in some light, setting to work on finding the least dirty pair of clothes in the pile on the floor. Something buzzed underneath a pair of dark blue jeans. Lavrent leapt at it, fumbling for the continued noise.

“It’s about time he called,” he mumbled, answering his phone. “Hello.”

“Lav,” snapped the voice on the other end.

“Ivan,”

“What’s wrong with you? I’ve been up all night trying to cover your tracks. Your last job was a mess!”

“What did I do?”

“You—you,” the man’s voice thickened to almost a snarl, “I wanted you to take-out one old witch.”

“I did,” Lavrent retorted with a sigh.

“You left paw prints, everywhere!” No one will believe that a wolf killed a helpless old lady in the middle of St. Petersburg. We’re in the city,” Ivan fumed.

“She wasn’t exactly helpless,” he replied with an exaggerated groan. He stretched his arm to check a bandage on his shoulder. “She was a troll; you never said anything about her being a troll.”

“Well, now you know,”

“Come on, Ivan. She got me square in the arm. I didn’t know if it was poison—I panicked.”

“Was it?”

“No, she must not have had time…” Lavrent flinched as his hand rediscovered the bruise on the side of his face.

“If you thought the mortals are unhappy, the exiles are furious.”

“But she was a troll!” he whined, cracking his back with a grunt.

“She’s been here a long time. Do you think she was the only evil in this place? She had friends you know.”

“I did what I needed to do. My deadline was this morning, September 9. Isn’t that good enough?”

“You can’t keep blowing cover like that.”

“It won’t happen again, I promise,” Lavrent said patronizingly.


“It better not,” Ivan grumbled hanging up his end of the line. Lavrent did the same, shoving the phone in his pocket and continuing on the next order of business, coffee.

…

“Order up, latté.”

Lavrent took a deep draft from his mug letting the steam thaw his face; numb from the walk. He leaned back in his chair studying the ever familiar room from his favorite seat in the coffee house. It was another day in St. Petersburg; cold, wet, and crowded. The coffee house which stood in the center of the endless rows of apartments and town houses created a warm place to sit, safe from gloomy streets and grey buildings. Lavrent thumbed through the newspaper letting this ears snatch the tidbits of conversation from the air.

“Did you hear about the murder on 24th street?” said one of the two old men sitting with a checker board three tables away.

“I did. Something about and old lady…did they ever find her?”

“Nope,” the shorter man said, eyeing the checker board as he distracted his companion. “Just bloody tracts; wolf prints believe it or not.”

“A wolf in the city? That would be something.”

“Not only that, but on the third floor…some criminals have a lot of nerve.” the shorter man sighed, not really appearing upset.

“It makes me remember those old stories when we were kids. Remember ‘The Bodarks.’”

“Do I,” the man laughed, “I was so scared. As a matter of fact I just told my grandson that story…his mother told me he had werewolf nightmares for a week… I never thought I was that good a story teller…”

Lavrent took a gulp of his coffee. If only the man had known how close to the very story he now sat or how close to a living nightmare they were. He wiped his forehead trying to shake the nervous guilt he felt in the pit of his stomach. His dream flashed from the back of his mind threatening to appear the next time he slept. Bianca’s face was already in front of him cowering to a gigantic wolf; him.

‘Calm down, it’s not real.’ Lavrent jolted awake he looked around of the owner of the voice even though it had been in his mind. His eyes caught the glance of a man behind him staring from a table closest to the door.

‘Come,’ the same voice called without sound, echoing in his mind from the stranger’s direction.

‘Where?’ Lavrent asked silently, looking back down at his paper.

‘Follow me out,’ the man replied in the same silence. Lavrent glanced behind him seeing the man beginning to gather his things. He did likewise, taking his time to not appear to follow anyone. He counted to three silently after the stranger had left the building before rising himself.


The grey light outside was still far brighter that the dim lamps of the café. Lavrent squinted searching for the stranger. The same voice in his head howled, turning his attention down a small alley beside the café. The man stood leaning against the old stone wall of the café. He was a dark figure even in the bright of daylight, covered from head to toe in black with the collar of his jacket and low set hat hiding much of his face. His black eyes glimmered through the shadows making him a ghost of the day and imaginably terrifying at night.

‘We can speak here with no worry,’ the man said at last.

“What’s going on?” Lavrent asked, walking toward him.

“The pack has a new member.”

“I know. We meet tomorrow, right?”

“Yes.”


“Then what do you want with me? Ivan’s all over me for the way I blow cover—this isn’t helping,” Lavrent snapped.

“Silence young pup,” the stranger’s deep voice cracked like a bullwhip with a slight dog-like growl.

“Your man name is Lavrent, is it not?” Lavrent nodded, “You’re a bit of a lone wolf, no pun intended, and so you’ve been chosen to bring the newcomer into the pack. You two will also become partners.”

“What part of ‘lone wolf’ makes me a people person? I hate the newcomers. All they do is whine and whine ‘woe is me, poor werewolf’—I’m not taking any of that nonsense.”

A deep growl came from the stranger in front of him as the man tipped up his hat. The sunlight illuminated his ivory face and beard. Besides the color of his hair the man’s face looked as youthful as Lavrent. His skin morphed slightly suddenly baring black markings like the war paint of an Indian. His nose lengthened to the snout of an animal, his glistening white teeth peaking from his lips.

“Do you know to whom you speak, young pup?” the werewolf said like a rumble of thunder. Lavrent choked. This was no plain messenger. He knew his markings all too well.

“I’m sorry, Master Gory,” Lavrent said, bobbing his head into an inconspicuous bow.

“That’s what I thought,” said Gory, turning his face back into a full man. “Now, I do confess, there were other reasons for choosing you. The newcomer, she isn’t Russian. She can’t speak a bit of it and I hear you speak English. Is that so?”

“Yes, Master.”

“Good. Now listen here. She’ll be at the metro station at 2 a.m.”

“Wait a second, she?”

“Yes, a she-wolf.”

“I don’t need any she-wolf destroying my cover.”

“You’re last job was a disaster. I just spoke with Ivan.”

“She’ll only make things worse.”

“She has five years as an Alythborg guard. I think she’ll manage.”

“Five years? She’s only a wolf pup.”

“I wouldn’t say that, she’s been on leave for a few years but all together ten man years as a wolf.”

“Isn’t there anyone else?” At this Gory only stared and frowned.

“For your hatred of whining, you do an awful lot of it. Now enough, 2 a.m. Sadovaya Station. She knows the password—she has red hair and speaks no Russian,” Gory said, turning and disappearing into the busy streets.

Lavrent frowned and kicked a tin can against the alley’s wall. This was ridiculous.

“Girls? Why on earth…I’m no baby sitter…I hate them…” He ran his fingers through his hair, pacing back and forth. “I bet since I’ll have a partner, Ivan will be dumping more jobs on me…that’s why I got her; more work…”

He looked up realized he had walked almost a block from the coffee shop. Cold sweat ran down his forehead, chilling in the air, making his trembling hands numb with cold.

“I’m not cut out for this—I’m not…” His feet quickened to the pace of his racing heart beat. There was nothing he could do about it tonight but for now he could manage himself.

“I’ll feel better after a walk,” he cooed, “or at least it’s a good distraction. Sadovaya is a good long walk from here.” He frowned at his own words. Giving yourself good advice is first, nothing you don’t already know; second useless if you’re trying to lie; and third, sounds crazy out loud.

Lavrent continued on his way, still hoping to out run the nerves in his hands or the dread in his mind. The burn of sweat in the cut on his arm, the ache in his feet, and all around loud, cold, rough city streets made forgetting things impossible. St. Petersburg was everywhere;

unmistakable, and unforgettable. The wet smell of rain and fog mixed with the smells of greasy restaurants and smoking cars. Everything was moving around the town’s winter-gray backdrop. Lights began to flicker on, throwing shadows and lonely places to anyone who wanted them. Slowly the streets began to clear itself of its cleaner company allowing a new swarm of darker individuals to take over.

…

Sadovaya Station was further than Lavrent had remembered. He quickened his pace just as the large church bell on St. Augusta’s Tower blared 2 a.m. He was late. The streets were growing quiet with the last groups of people clinging to the darker side-streets and shadows which were thinning out by the minute. It was 2:15 before Lavrent crossed the last parking lot to the metro. The building was surprisingly well build for the side of town it stood. It could have been a prestigious bank or mansion in its day, with large neoclassical columns and formidable stone stairways. Now streetlights illuminated the sides of pillars creating more darkness than light.

Lavrent stopped. The dark building was eerie as a ghost town, strong and immovable in the backdrop of the cheap and poorly build town around it. He dreaded whatever he would find inside. A werewolf, a partner, and girl, he was moments from it all. Lavrent smoothed his short butter colored hair. He brushed some of the dust off his coat and felt the stubble on his face with a sigh. He wasn’t going to look any better. He stumbled up the metro’s front steps listening for any movement. From one of the stone pillars popped a figure. She held her hands level with her head but made no inclination to speak.

“Was anyone else here?” Lavrent asked. A sudden flash of panic crossed his mind as he thought of all that might have gotten to her before himself.

“No, no Russian—I no speak Russian,” the girl said slowly. She stepped forward into the light. Her eyes were ice-blue and her long red hair was pulled into a braid behind her neck. Lavrent took a step back surprised by the girl’s lack of fear as she stood waiting for his next move.

‘Do you know the password?’ he asked silently.

‘Benandanti,’ she said without a word.

“Good,” Lavrent said, he cleared his throat hoping his English would come back faster, “Change over to your wolf face for proof.”

“No, I gave you the password,” the girl replied. Her composure seemed suddenly to have vaporized by the simple question.

Lavrent was just as disturbed he sputtered, “Change now or how do I know you’re not a lying witch.”

The girl frowned, studying the ground a moment before her markings appeared on her face. Thin lines curled in red swirls on her cheeks and forehead. Her nose lengthened in a moment and white ears peeked from her red hair.

‘Is this good enough?’ she asked.

‘You didn’t have to show your ears. I’d have been happy at your nose or patterns,’ Lavrent smiled.

The girl growled turning back quickly, ‘It’s been a few years since I’ve done this. Can we get out of here?’


The girl grabbed a large backpack from the shadows and started walking down the stairs hardly waiting for Lavrent to follow.

‘I can take that,’ he said, surprising himself with his own kindness. ‘Do you have a name?’ He said a little louder trotting down the stairs to catch up.

“Anne,” she said, letting her bag slip off her shoulders and tossing it in Lavrent’s direction. ‘And you?’

“Lavrent,” he said slowly, as the two continued walking. ‘How long have you used the name Anne?’

‘Forever I guess. It’s my name isn’t it?’

“What!” Lavrent gasped before remembering to speak English, “stupid girl, they’ll track you from anywhere.”

Anne frowned following in silence behind Lavrent. He walked into one of the streets dark alleys.

‘Where are we going?’ Anne asked still standing outside in the relatively bright light of the street.

‘Didn’t they tell you, we’ve got to introduce you to the pack? Otherwise they’ll…well you know…’

‘I’ve never met another werewolf; besides my little brother,’ she admitted.

‘They have to know your wolf and human form otherwise they might think you’re something or someone else. Not all lycanthropes are friends to Alythborg. Now come on,’ Lavrent sighed. This was exactly what he had hoped wouldn’t happen. Anne stood frozen outside the alley. He looked from her to the alley and back at her again.

“You’re afraid of the dark?” He said with a harsh laugh. ‘I’ve never heard of a werewolf afraid of the dark.’

‘St. Petersburg seems a little ruff,’ she said hesitantly.

‘What part of werewolf makes us vulnerable?’ he said, continuing into the dark with Anne trotting to his heels.

‘You need a new name,’ he commented.

‘What’s a Russian name—that I can say,’ she said with a smile. Her pretty face made Lavrent sigh. She didn’t look like the “help” Ivan had in mind.

“Anya, can you manage that?” he asked with the same sarcasm.

“Anya, I like it. So how did you learn English?—” her words were cut short. Lavrent turned to Anya. Her pointed white ears again stuck from the top of her head and her muzzle was slowly growing from her nose.

‘What are you doing?’

‘Hush! Listen,’ they stood frozen a moment.

“I don’t hear a thing,” Lavrent said out loud.

‘Please, there it is again.’ Lavrent frowned and stared at Anya.

“There!” she screamed, leaping almost over Lavrent’s head and into the darkness behind him. Lavrent spun around to see Anya pinning some creature to the ground. She was only half human with her shirt tearing down her now much broader back. In an instant Lavrent was in the fight. He grabbed the throat of the creature dragging it away from Anya and into some street light.


At first the creature appeared to be a man. His face was thin and white as parchment. His skin was cold, with muscles hard as stone. The creature wasn’t human, he was far worse. Lavrent looked in shock as Anya ran towards him; her jaws wide open to finish the beast. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion.

‘Anya stop!’ his words went unheard as her mouth drew ever nearer. Lavrent kicked to the side with all his might. Anya wasn’t about to end up like his nightmare. His front feet caught the werewolf square on the nose. She dropped to the ground sputtering for breath.

‘He’s a vampire Anya his blood is poison!’ The vampire had seen his chance as he ducked from Lavrent’s hold.

“Thanks for the escape,” he laughed, landing one hard punch into Lavrent’s stomach throwing him into one of the alley’s walls and tearing off into the dark alley. Lavrent scrambled up to follow, listening for his prey’s footsteps as he ran. At the other end of the alley he could see the vampire pause, “I’ll be seeing you around, dog—”

A blur of white and red fur fell from the sky slamming into the vampire and knocking him into the shadows. By the time Lavrent arrived he was only a crumpled ball lying between the now wolf paws of Anya.

‘It’s not the best idea to change over completely around here,’ said Lavrent, looking over the body of the vampire.

‘In my opinion, neither is dying,’ she said rubbing her noise.

‘I’m sorry I kicked you,’

‘I’m not sorry I didn’t die,’ Anya said matter-of-factly, ‘where’s my bag? I tore my jeans on the roof.’

…

“Well, I’d call this a productive night,” Anya said after they had changed back. She walked with her old torn shirt blotting blood from her fat lip and nose.

“You could say that,” Lavrent said adjusting the vampire slung over his shoulder.

“Not bad for a lone wolf and a girl?” she asked with a smile.

Lavrent cleared his throat and looked at the ground, “I guess so.” He looked up questioningly.

“Ivan, it’s Ivan right? He had some choice words about you,” she said with a grin.

“I’ve just got a lot of enemies—I’m not much of a people person…” Anya smiled all the more at his weak defense. Quietly she dragged her fingers through her hair trying to smooth it from the tangled mess it had become.

“Well,” she said at last looking back at Lavrent and picking some dried blood from her lip, “I guess it’s a good thing I’m not human.”


Fini



* login or signup to post your review

Category Name: My Thoughts

I did not enjoy this story. I am not even sure what problem the protagonist faced. This story was okay. The story would have been better if the author had introduced the problem differently and made it feel more pressing. I really enjoyed this story. The author did a good job pulling me into the story by introducing an immediate and important problem for the protagonist.

This section is for overall comments and general ideas. The score should reflect how much you enjoyed the story.

Category Name: Character Development

The characters were not dynamic, credible, interesting, memorable or unique. I don’t care about or understand the characters because they were poorly developed. The characters were somewhat dynamic, credible, interesting, memorable and unique. I partially understood the thoughts, feelings, and actions of the characters. I somewhat connected with and care about the characters. The characters were very dynamic, credible, interesting, memorable and unique. I thoroughly understood their thoughts, feelings and actions. I felt connected with and cared about the characters.

This is act of bringing a character to life on the page. It is a combination of the author’s description of the character and the character’s dialog, action, and thoughts. Though all characters should be believable, the protagonist and antagonist are usually the most developed characters.

Category Name: Plot

I finished reading the story so the plot must have unfolded, but I am not sure what the plot was. The characters did not achieve or grow by solving the problems they faced in this story. There were definite wrinkles in the way the plot unfolded leading to the final conflict. The plot was loosely tied to the achievement and growth of the characters. The way the protagonist overcame some of the problems flowed unnaturally with the story. I could see the plot unfolding through a series of escalating problems that lead to the final conflict. The plot helped me understand the achievements and growth of the characters. The way the protagonist overcame the problems flowed naturally with the st

In fiction a plot is all the events in a story, particularly rendered towards the achievement of some particular artistic or emotional effect. In other words it's what mostly happened in the story. The plot draws the reader into the character's lives and helps the reader understand the choices that the characters make.

Category Name: Dialog

The dialog seemed like cold words on paper. I had a hard time following it. I didn’t learn very much about the characters through the dialog. Through the dialog I could sometimes see the characters learn and grow while occasionally discovering new facets of their personalities. The dialog was generally consistent with the character. Through the dialog I could see the characters learn and grow while simultaneously discovering new facets of their personalities. The dialog was true to the character and it helped me understand the characters emotions.

Category Name: Setting

The setting created a haze in my mind that detracted from the story. I am lost in time and space because I don’t know when or where this story takes place. The setting was described adequately, but not well enough to bring it to life in my mind. The setting did not add to or detract from the story. I am pretty sure I know when and where the story takes place. The author engaged all of my senses while vividly describing the setting. The setting helped me better understand the setting and plot. I know when and where this story takes place.

The setting is where a story takes place. The choice of setting and its description helps the story come alive in the mind of the reader. Appropriate setting contributes to the plot and mood of the story.

Category Name: Mechanics

The story contained so many mechanical errors that it was hard to follow the plot or understand certain sentences or paragraphs. Occasional mechanical errors were distracting, but these errors did not inhibit me from being able to understand the plot or connect with characters in the story. I rarely if ever noticed mechanical errors. As far as I could tell, the writing was clear and correct.

Mechanics includes sentence structure, verb agreement, grammar, spelling, voice, punctuation and aspects of basic style.

Note: The purpose of ReviewFuse reviews is NOT to provide comprehensive copy editing, but rather to "ignite creativity." Reviewers should not feel obliged to point out every grammar or spelling error (though they certainly can if they wish), but should focus on this area only to the degree that errors make a story hard to follow or understand.

Inline comments are the most helpful and important aspects of your review.

Click on a paragraph or highlight text from the paragraph to provide inline comments. While detailed grammar correction is welcome, the purpose of inline commenting is to spark the author's creativity. This is best done by expressing feelings, questions, and concerns you have about the story while you are reading.

1. G. S. James

2. Mrs. Takamori

3. ToG year 3

4. 1/14/09

5. The Nightmare of Russia

6. Russian wolves are legendary for their ferocity. Their bloodthirsty attacks on mankind echo in timeless legend, but what about the nightmares themselves. To understand the words of the solitary howl in the night, or icy cry in the dark would find a far different being than that of legends. Perhaps one would see that the anguish of a nightmare is often the same as becoming one yourself.

7.

8. “BIANCA!”

9. Lavrent sat upright in his bed. He wiped the sweat from his eyes and gasped for more breath. Each night was the same; Bianca was missing. Morning was no longer any comfort, in that, she was gone.

10. “Just a dream, nothing more,” he panted, slumping back onto his bed. He groaned rolling over in his bed. Somehow waking up alone proved just as disappointing as relieving. It was better; he told himself, better to never let that dream come true. Bianca was probably a hundred miles from here. Safe and sound.

11. The clock flashed 12:32 p.m. explaining the streams of light breaking through the blackout curtain on the other side of his room. He stumbled up to let in some light, setting to work on finding the least dirty pair of clothes in the pile on the floor. Something buzzed underneath a pair of dark blue jeans. Lavrent leapt at it, fumbling for the continued noise.

12. “It’s about time he called,” he mumbled, answering his phone. “Hello.”

13. “Lav,” snapped the voice on the other end.

14. “Ivan,”

15. “What’s wrong with you? I’ve been up all night trying to cover your tracks. Your last job was a mess!”

16. “What did I do?”

17. “You—you,” the man’s voice thickened to almost a snarl, “I wanted you to take-out one old witch.”

18. “I did,” Lavrent retorted with a sigh.

19. “You left paw prints, everywhere!” No one will believe that a wolf killed a helpless old lady in the middle of St. Petersburg. We’re in the city,” Ivan fumed.

20. “She wasn’t exactly helpless,” he replied with an exaggerated groan. He stretched his arm to check a bandage on his shoulder. “She was a troll; you never said anything about her being a troll.”

21. “Well, now you know,”

22. “Come on, Ivan. She got me square in the arm. I didn’t know if it was poison—I panicked.”

23. “Was it?”

24. “No, she must not have had time…” Lavrent flinched as his hand rediscovered the bruise on the side of his face.

25. “If you thought the mortals are unhappy, the exiles are furious.”

26. “But she was a troll!” he whined, cracking his back with a grunt.

27. “She’s been here a long time. Do you think she was the only evil in this place? She had friends you know.”

28. “I did what I needed to do. My deadline was this morning, September 9. Isn’t that good enough?”

29. “You can’t keep blowing cover like that.”

30. “It won’t happen again, I promise,” Lavrent said patronizingly.

31.

32. “It better not,” Ivan grumbled hanging up his end of the line. Lavrent did the same, shoving the phone in his pocket and continuing on the next order of business, coffee.

33. …

34. “Order up, latté.”

35. Lavrent took a deep draft from his mug letting the steam thaw his face; numb from the walk. He leaned back in his chair studying the ever familiar room from his favorite seat in the coffee house. It was another day in St. Petersburg; cold, wet, and crowded. The coffee house which stood in the center of the endless rows of apartments and town houses created a warm place to sit, safe from gloomy streets and grey buildings. Lavrent thumbed through the newspaper letting this ears snatch the tidbits of conversation from the air.

36. “Did you hear about the murder on 24th street?” said one of the two old men sitting with a checker board three tables away.

37. “I did. Something about and old lady…did they ever find her?”

38. “Nope,” the shorter man said, eyeing the checker board as he distracted his companion. “Just bloody tracts; wolf prints believe it or not.”

39. “A wolf in the city? That would be something.”

40. “Not only that, but on the third floor…some criminals have a lot of nerve.” the shorter man sighed, not really appearing upset.

41. “It makes me remember those old stories when we were kids. Remember ‘The Bodarks.’”

42. “Do I,” the man laughed, “I was so scared. As a matter of fact I just told my grandson that story…his mother told me he had werewolf nightmares for a week… I never thought I was that good a story teller…”

43. Lavrent took a gulp of his coffee. If only the man had known how close to the very story he now sat or how close to a living nightmare they were. He wiped his forehead trying to shake the nervous guilt he felt in the pit of his stomach. His dream flashed from the back of his mind threatening to appear the next time he slept. Bianca’s face was already in front of him cowering to a gigantic wolf; him.

44. ‘Calm down, it’s not real.’ Lavrent jolted awake he looked around of the owner of the voice even though it had been in his mind. His eyes caught the glance of a man behind him staring from a table closest to the door.

45. ‘Come,’ the same voice called without sound, echoing in his mind from the stranger’s direction.

46. ‘Where?’ Lavrent asked silently, looking back down at his paper.

47. ‘Follow me out,’ the man replied in the same silence. Lavrent glanced behind him seeing the man beginning to gather his things. He did likewise, taking his time to not appear to follow anyone. He counted to three silently after the stranger had left the building before rising himself.

48.

49. The grey light outside was still far brighter that the dim lamps of the café. Lavrent squinted searching for the stranger. The same voice in his head howled, turning his attention down a small alley beside the café. The man stood leaning against the old stone wall of the café. He was a dark figure even in the bright of daylight, covered from head to toe in black with the collar of his jacket and low set hat hiding much of his face. His black eyes glimmered through the shadows making him a ghost of the day and imaginably terrifying at night.

50. ‘We can speak here with no worry,’ the man said at last.

51. “What’s going on?” Lavrent asked, walking toward him.

52. “The pack has a new member.”

53. “I know. We meet tomorrow, right?”

54. “Yes.”

55.

56. “Then what do you want with me? Ivan’s all over me for the way I blow cover—this isn’t helping,” Lavrent snapped.

57. “Silence young pup,” the stranger’s deep voice cracked like a bullwhip with a slight dog-like growl.

58. “Your man name is Lavrent, is it not?” Lavrent nodded, “You’re a bit of a lone wolf, no pun intended, and so you’ve been chosen to bring the newcomer into the pack. You two will also become partners.”

59. “What part of ‘lone wolf’ makes me a people person? I hate the newcomers. All they do is whine and whine ‘woe is me, poor werewolf’—I’m not taking any of that nonsense.”

60. A deep growl came from the stranger in front of him as the man tipped up his hat. The sunlight illuminated his ivory face and beard. Besides the color of his hair the man’s face looked as youthful as Lavrent. His skin morphed slightly suddenly baring black markings like the war paint of an Indian. His nose lengthened to the snout of an animal, his glistening white teeth peaking from his lips.

61. “Do you know to whom you speak, young pup?” the werewolf said like a rumble of thunder. Lavrent choked. This was no plain messenger. He knew his markings all too well.

62. “I’m sorry, Master Gory,” Lavrent said, bobbing his head into an inconspicuous bow.

63. “That’s what I thought,” said Gory, turning his face back into a full man. “Now, I do confess, there were other reasons for choosing you. The newcomer, she isn’t Russian. She can’t speak a bit of it and I hear you speak English. Is that so?”

64. “Yes, Master.”

65. “Good. Now listen here. She’ll be at the metro station at 2 a.m.”

66. “Wait a second, she?”

67. “Yes, a she-wolf.”

68. “I don’t need any she-wolf destroying my cover.”

69. “You’re last job was a disaster. I just spoke with Ivan.”

70. “She’ll only make things worse.”

71. “She has five years as an Alythborg guard. I think she’ll manage.”

72. “Five years? She’s only a wolf pup.”

73. “I wouldn’t say that, she’s been on leave for a few years but all together ten man years as a wolf.”

74. “Isn’t there anyone else?” At this Gory only stared and frowned.

75. “For your hatred of whining, you do an awful lot of it. Now enough, 2 a.m. Sadovaya Station. She knows the password—she has red hair and speaks no Russian,” Gory said, turning and disappearing into the busy streets.

76. Lavrent frowned and kicked a tin can against the alley’s wall. This was ridiculous.

77. “Girls? Why on earth…I’m no baby sitter…I hate them…” He ran his fingers through his hair, pacing back and forth. “I bet since I’ll have a partner, Ivan will be dumping more jobs on me…that’s why I got her; more work…”

78. He looked up realized he had walked almost a block from the coffee shop. Cold sweat ran down his forehead, chilling in the air, making his trembling hands numb with cold.

79. “I’m not cut out for this—I’m not…” His feet quickened to the pace of his racing heart beat. There was nothing he could do about it tonight but for now he could manage himself.

80. “I’ll feel better after a walk,” he cooed, “or at least it’s a good distraction. Sadovaya is a good long walk from here.” He frowned at his own words. Giving yourself good advice is first, nothing you don’t already know; second useless if you’re trying to lie; and third, sounds crazy out loud.

81. Lavrent continued on his way, still hoping to out run the nerves in his hands or the dread in his mind. The burn of sweat in the cut on his arm, the ache in his feet, and all around loud, cold, rough city streets made forgetting things impossible. St. Petersburg was everywhere;

82. unmistakable, and unforgettable. The wet smell of rain and fog mixed with the smells of greasy restaurants and smoking cars. Everything was moving around the town’s winter-gray backdrop. Lights began to flicker on, throwing shadows and lonely places to anyone who wanted them. Slowly the streets began to clear itself of its cleaner company allowing a new swarm of darker individuals to take over.

83. …

84. Sadovaya Station was further than Lavrent had remembered. He quickened his pace just as the large church bell on St. Augusta’s Tower blared 2 a.m. He was late. The streets were growing quiet with the last groups of people clinging to the darker side-streets and shadows which were thinning out by the minute. It was 2:15 before Lavrent crossed the last parking lot to the metro. The building was surprisingly well build for the side of town it stood. It could have been a prestigious bank or mansion in its day, with large neoclassical columns and formidable stone stairways. Now streetlights illuminated the sides of pillars creating more darkness than light.

85. Lavrent stopped. The dark building was eerie as a ghost town, strong and immovable in the backdrop of the cheap and poorly build town around it. He dreaded whatever he would find inside. A werewolf, a partner, and girl, he was moments from it all. Lavrent smoothed his short butter colored hair. He brushed some of the dust off his coat and felt the stubble on his face with a sigh. He wasn’t going to look any better. He stumbled up the metro’s front steps listening for any movement. From one of the stone pillars popped a figure. She held her hands level with her head but made no inclination to speak.

86. “Was anyone else here?” Lavrent asked. A sudden flash of panic crossed his mind as he thought of all that might have gotten to her before himself.

87. “No, no Russian—I no speak Russian,” the girl said slowly. She stepped forward into the light. Her eyes were ice-blue and her long red hair was pulled into a braid behind her neck. Lavrent took a step back surprised by the girl’s lack of fear as she stood waiting for his next move.

88. ‘Do you know the password?’ he asked silently.

89. ‘Benandanti,’ she said without a word.

90. “Good,” Lavrent said, he cleared his throat hoping his English would come back faster, “Change over to your wolf face for proof.”

91. “No, I gave you the password,” the girl replied. Her composure seemed suddenly to have vaporized by the simple question.

92. Lavrent was just as disturbed he sputtered, “Change now or how do I know you’re not a lying witch.”

93. The girl frowned, studying the ground a moment before her markings appeared on her face. Thin lines curled in red swirls on her cheeks and forehead. Her nose lengthened in a moment and white ears peeked from her red hair.

94. ‘Is this good enough?’ she asked.

95. ‘You didn’t have to show your ears. I’d have been happy at your nose or patterns,’ Lavrent smiled.

96. The girl growled turning back quickly, ‘It’s been a few years since I’ve done this. Can we get out of here?’

97.

98. The girl grabbed a large backpack from the shadows and started walking down the stairs hardly waiting for Lavrent to follow.

99. ‘I can take that,’ he said, surprising himself with his own kindness. ‘Do you have a name?’ He said a little louder trotting down the stairs to catch up.

100. “Anne,” she said, letting her bag slip off her shoulders and tossing it in Lavrent’s direction. ‘And you?’

101. “Lavrent,” he said slowly, as the two continued walking. ‘How long have you used the name Anne?’

102. ‘Forever I guess. It’s my name isn’t it?’

103. “What!” Lavrent gasped before remembering to speak English, “stupid girl, they’ll track you from anywhere.”

104. Anne frowned following in silence behind Lavrent. He walked into one of the streets dark alleys.

105. ‘Where are we going?’ Anne asked still standing outside in the relatively bright light of the street.

106. ‘Didn’t they tell you, we’ve got to introduce you to the pack? Otherwise they’ll…well you know…’

107. ‘I’ve never met another werewolf; besides my little brother,’ she admitted.

108. ‘They have to know your wolf and human form otherwise they might think you’re something or someone else. Not all lycanthropes are friends to Alythborg. Now come on,’ Lavrent sighed. This was exactly what he had hoped wouldn’t happen. Anne stood frozen outside the alley. He looked from her to the alley and back at her again.

109. “You’re afraid of the dark?” He said with a harsh laugh. ‘I’ve never heard of a werewolf afraid of the dark.’

110. ‘St. Petersburg seems a little ruff,’ she said hesitantly.

111. ‘What part of werewolf makes us vulnerable?’ he said, continuing into the dark with Anne trotting to his heels.

112. ‘You need a new name,’ he commented.

113. ‘What’s a Russian name—that I can say,’ she said with a smile. Her pretty face made Lavrent sigh. She didn’t look like the “help” Ivan had in mind.

114. “Anya, can you manage that?” he asked with the same sarcasm.

115. “Anya, I like it. So how did you learn English?—” her words were cut short. Lavrent turned to Anya. Her pointed white ears again stuck from the top of her head and her muzzle was slowly growing from her nose.

116. ‘What are you doing?’

117. ‘Hush! Listen,’ they stood frozen a moment.

118. “I don’t hear a thing,” Lavrent said out loud.

119. ‘Please, there it is again.’ Lavrent frowned and stared at Anya.

120. “There!” she screamed, leaping almost over Lavrent’s head and into the darkness behind him. Lavrent spun around to see Anya pinning some creature to the ground. She was only half human with her shirt tearing down her now much broader back. In an instant Lavrent was in the fight. He grabbed the throat of the creature dragging it away from Anya and into some street light.

121.

122. At first the creature appeared to be a man. His face was thin and white as parchment. His skin was cold, with muscles hard as stone. The creature wasn’t human, he was far worse. Lavrent looked in shock as Anya ran towards him; her jaws wide open to finish the beast. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion.

123. ‘Anya stop!’ his words went unheard as her mouth drew ever nearer. Lavrent kicked to the side with all his might. Anya wasn’t about to end up like his nightmare. His front feet caught the werewolf square on the nose. She dropped to the ground sputtering for breath.

124. ‘He’s a vampire Anya his blood is poison!’ The vampire had seen his chance as he ducked from Lavrent’s hold.

125. “Thanks for the escape,” he laughed, landing one hard punch into Lavrent’s stomach throwing him into one of the alley’s walls and tearing off into the dark alley. Lavrent scrambled up to follow, listening for his prey’s footsteps as he ran. At the other end of the alley he could see the vampire pause, “I’ll be seeing you around, dog—”

126. A blur of white and red fur fell from the sky slamming into the vampire and knocking him into the shadows. By the time Lavrent arrived he was only a crumpled ball lying between the now wolf paws of Anya.

127. ‘It’s not the best idea to change over completely around here,’ said Lavrent, looking over the body of the vampire.

128. ‘In my opinion, neither is dying,’ she said rubbing her noise.

129. ‘I’m sorry I kicked you,’

130. ‘I’m not sorry I didn’t die,’ Anya said matter-of-factly, ‘where’s my bag? I tore my jeans on the roof.’

131. …

132. “Well, I’d call this a productive night,” Anya said after they had changed back. She walked with her old torn shirt blotting blood from her fat lip and nose.

133. “You could say that,” Lavrent said adjusting the vampire slung over his shoulder.

134. “Not bad for a lone wolf and a girl?” she asked with a smile.

135. Lavrent cleared his throat and looked at the ground, “I guess so.” He looked up questioningly.

136. “Ivan, it’s Ivan right? He had some choice words about you,” she said with a grin.

137. “I’ve just got a lot of enemies—I’m not much of a people person…” Anya smiled all the more at his weak defense. Quietly she dragged her fingers through her hair trying to smooth it from the tangled mess it had become.

138. “Well,” she said at last looking back at Lavrent and picking some dried blood from her lip, “I guess it’s a good thing I’m not human.”

139.

140. Fini

141.

142.

Reviews that have been completed within the last 30 days

  • There are no reviews for this item.