A few weeks earlier, he’d hiked to the wolf-people’s village—hard not to think of it that way, still, even though only one of them was really any kind of wolf—to talk with Zev’s friend Victor Owl-Eyed about Gerakia and whether maybe the warm summers there would be better for Viv. While Sasha didn’t want to admit it, she needed more help than he could give on his own. Whatever strange sickness had taken her siblings was troubling her again, and he would do anything he could to keep it from getting worse. If it meant leaving Lukos, like Dragan Wolf-Breaker’s daughter had, that’s what they’d do.
He didn’t like the idea of leaving. Sasha liked his cozy home with his gorgeous, vicious sadist wife, and the Compound was mostly running smoothly after the whole thing back in the spring with Evgen.
In any case, they wouldn’t be going anywhere before winter, and he needed to put by enough meat and other supplies to see them through the cold months ahead. He could have gone home when the gathering clouds started threatening rain, but he’d opted to keep hunting and had a nice buck to show for his efforts… and that’s when he smelled the smoke. It wouldn’t normally concern him, since the people of the village where Victor lived obviously had fires in their homes, just like the ones who lived in the Compound. But this smoke was coming from the wrong direction.
And maybe, if Sasha hadn’t already met the toymaker in the woods… maybe he would have relied on the coming storm to put out the fire and simply taken his buck and gone home to show off his prowess to his wife. She did like it when he carried a whole deer home for her, and thinking about the way she showed her appreciation made him shiver with something other than cold. But hedidknow about the toymaker—Micah, he was Zev’s friend—and how he lived in a house deep in the woods. Though “house” was giving it a pretty loose definition; it was a shack. And if Micah was on his own, and the place was on fire…
With a low curse, Sasha set off at a lope toward the scent of smoke. He knew Micah didn’t like unexpected visitors, and he’d leave if he saw it was some kind of bonfire or something. But as he got closer, he knew that wasn’t the case.
There were flames leaping too high in the air, catching trees and dead leaves, and the soundwas like nothing Sasha had ever heard. It sounded like the fire waseatingthe landscape, like it was a living thing devouring whatever was foolish enough to get in its way. The wind grew hot enough that Sasha started coughing, and he dropped the buck as he broke into an all-out run. He didn’t think he was going to find anything but ashes, but he had to check.
Zev was Sasha’s friend, and while Micah had been as friendly as a porcupine the first time Sasha encountered him, Sasha knew that Zev countedMicahas a friend, and that meant something. Sasha wasn’t the sharpest arrow in the quiver, but evenheknew you didn’t fuck off and live alone in the woods if everything in your past was sunshine and rainbows.
So he let the deer’s carcass fall to be food for the—four-legged—wolves and raced to find out whether Micah was still alive. He was coughing nonstop now, and his eyes were stinging from the smoke, but he could just make out the shape of a man trying to… go backintothe heart of the fire, which used to be his shack. House. Whatever, it had been his home, and Sasha felt a rush of sympathy even as he shouted, “What the hell, man, get away from that. You’re going the wrong way!”
Micah didn’t respond, so Sasha shouted again. “Hey! You know me. I’m Zev’s friend, Sasha. I’m all right! Coming to get you!”
“—off,” was the reply, and Sasha ducked under a smoldering tree limb and tackled Micah to keep him from running back into the blaze.
“Get off me and let mego,” Micah snarled, a tangle of soot and limbs and wildly unkempt hair.
“Sure thing, buddy.” Sasha got to his feet—he was much more nimble than people thought, given his height and build—and hauled Micah up with a fist in his shirt. “As soon as we’re away from the fuckingfire. What the fuck is wrong with you?”
Micah was scrawny, tall but thin, and while he fought like a snow cat, he couldn’t escape Sasha’s grip. He was lighter than the buck had been—which, damn, he could use some meat on his bones. But first things first: no burning to cinders on Sasha’s watch. Zev would be sad if that happened, and he’d been sad enough as a young pup. He didn’t need to go back to it now that he was mated and happy and all.
Sasha liked it when people he liked were happy. He didn’t much like Micah, but that was only ’cause he didn’t know him very well. Didn’t mean he wanted the guy to roast like a deer over a spit.
He dragged Micah toward the edge of the thick cloud of smoke—but then Micah kicked him right where itfuckingcounted. Which, honestly, wasn’t the kind of pain he was usually into. “What—Ow,buddy, that’s a hell of a way to saythank you,” Sasha growled, still holding on to him. “Also, you think people haven’t tried that before?”
“I need— There’s… something in the house. I—I can’t— I need it. Let me go; I don’t care if I—”
“You must have smoke in your brain. You can’t go back in there, or you ain’t comin’ back out.” Sasha looked at Micah and sighed. “What is it you need? Like, really need? I’ll go look for it. You’ll catch on fire. You’re like a scarecrow.”
Micah pushed his hair out of his face andstaredat him. “You— What? No.”
His dominance fell hard in the smoke-clouded air, but Sasha was used to his wife, and he shrugged one shoulder. “Then I’m hauling you to Zev. Your choice.”
Micah swore. “A book. It’s… probably gone, but it’s— If it isn’t, I need it.”
Sasha hesitated only a moment before grabbing his own shirt and pulling it over his head. He wrapped it around his face and said through the fabric, “Stay here, or I will besopissed.”
Micah just watched him, like a soot-covered wraith, as Sasha turned and ran into the house. He did foolhardy stuff all the time, but this, this was bad even for him. But hey, Viv’d take it out of his hide, and that’d be okay.
“You,” Micah called, dominance even heavier than before, enough that Sasha shivered and paused in his stride. If the guy didn’t hurry, though, there’d be nothing for Sasha to rescue.
“Yeah?”
“The book. The cover, it’s leather, and it’s got a design with lines coming out of it. Like the… the sun.”
“Sure.” Sasha drew in a deep breath, covered his face again, and ran into the fiery death trap of a house. Most of it was gone, but there was a small table near the back and next to the bedding—which was, fuck, on the floor?—and there he found the notebook, just as described. Sasha grabbed it, and right as he turned, a portion of the roof collapsed and blocked the way he’d entered. Cursing, he pressed the book against his chest, turned, andkickedthe wall—mostly out of annoyance, but luckily the cabin was constructed of wood with the strength of a toothpick, and it gave easily beneath the weight of his boot.
Then, as fire singed the bare skin of his back, Sasha did a front roll and kept going, thankful for the tumbling he’d done as a lad. He came to a stop at Micah’s feet, covered in dirt and sticks and ashes. With a grin, he tore his shirt from his face and sucked in air that wasn’t free of smoke but was better than inside the house—or what was left of it.
“Sorry about your wall,” he wheezed and handed over the book.
Micah took it, silent, his eyes wide in the moonlight.
“Prolly should get out of here,” Sasha said, hopping to his feet. He grinned. “C’mon, let’s go to Zev’s. The rain should put the fire out before it goes too far, but best to, y’know. Move.”
