Magic's Promise

Sela Carsen

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Table of Contents

Title Page

Magic's Promise (Nocturne Falls Universe)

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Runaway bride Katya Dostoyevna escaped to Nocturne Falls ten years ago. She’s lived a quiet life since then, establishing a much-needed animal sanctuary. It’s good work for a shy witch who prefers to talk to animals, both supernatural and mundane.

Scorned groom Danil Leonov has finally tracked down the girl who fled from their arranged marriage. He doesn’t want to marry her any more now than he did then, but she left with something he desperately needs. The fate of the fae world depends on it.

But he’s not the only one after the microchip he developed. And after he and Katya connect, Danil starts to wonder if it’s the tech he really wants, or the woman he didn’t realize he loved.

Dear Reader,

Nocturne Falls has become a magical place for so many people, myself included. Over and over I’ve heard from you that it’s a town you’d love to visit and even live in! I can tell you that writing the books is just as much fun for me.

With your enthusiasm for the series in mind – and your many requests for more books – the Nocturne Falls Universe was born. It’s a project near and dear to my heart, and one I am very excited about.

I hope these new, guest-authored books will entertain and delight you. And best of all, I hope they allow you to discover some great new authors! (And if you like this book, be sure to check out the rest of the Nocturne Falls Universe offerings.)

For more information about the Nocturne Falls Universe, visit http://kristenpainter.com/sugar-skull-books/

In the meantime, happy reading!

Kristen Painter

MAGIC'S PROMISE:

A Nocturne Falls Universe Story

Copyright © 2017 by Sela Carsen

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without permission in writing from the author.

This book is a work of fiction and was made possible by a special agreement with Sugar Skull Books, but hasn’t been reviewed or edited by Kristen Painter. All characters, events, scenes, plots and associated elements appearing in the original Nocturne Falls series remain the exclusive copyrighted and/or trademarked property of Kristen Painter, Sugar Skull Books and their affiliates or licensors.

Any similarity to real person, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author or Sugar Skull Books.

Published in the United States of America.

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NEWSLETTER

Chapter One

If you die in the South, you get a layover in Atlanta on your way to Hell.

Danil Leonov hadn’t thought the joke was that funny the first time he’d heard it. Now, after fighting his way through the Atlanta airport to get to his connecting flight, he found it grimly truthful.

He’d wanted to use the family jet to fly up from Volshev, Texas, that morning, but brother had needed it for business, so he’d been forced to fly out of Houston to Atlanta.

Given that there was little in this world more miserable than Houston traffic, he hadn’t realized that changing planes in Atlanta would open his eyes to a new level of torment. Hartsfield-Jackson Atlanta International Airport could have had its own chapter in Dante’s Inferno. Finally, Danil’s sentence in purgatory ended when he switched to a puddle jumper that landed at a blessedly small and quiet airfield outside Nocturne Falls, Georgia.

Driving into town in his rented car, he raised a brow at the welcome sign that promised “Where Every Day is Halloween!” Everywhere he looked, there was hokey holiday schtick. Some guy was actually parading around in a puffy shirt and cape, pretending he was a vampire.

Danil stopped for dinner at a place appropriately named “Mummy’s Diner” for something to eat. Even though he rolled his eyes at their tag line – Our Food is To Die For! – the Blue Plate Special of meatloaf with mashed potatoes and gravy was almost worth the trip.

His hunger appeased and the sun sinking, he got back into the car and followed his GPS out to the edge of town. All around him, he saw perfectly normal houses. Some sleekly modern, some grand Victorians, most utterly ordinary. The street went from blacktop to gravel to dusty red clay before the road finally ended in front of a large house modeled on every Russian’s dream of a noble country summer estate.

But, just like the old empire, this impressive dacha was in serious disrepair. The creamy plaster facade was chipping off, exposing the old brick underneath. The short fence around the front was missing planks, and the sagging gate rocked and squeaked in the breeze. The solid wooden door had faded with age and exposure to the elements.

In the few moments he watched, the sky faded from twilight into darkness, and the old house went from sad to sinister. Tickling fingers of dread trailed up his spine, but he shook them off as he got out of the car and approached the gate. He was afraid it would fall apart under his fingers, but it was sturdier than it appeared. It was also stuck.

Danil pushed harder. The gate refused to budge, which was ridiculous. It was so filled with wood rot it was more rot than wood, but it stood stubbornly in place.

A sound drew his attention. The low growl seemed to roll out from the porch in nearly visible waves, and when he peered into the darkness, he found two glowing red eyes looking back at him.

He pulled a firestone out of his pocket and brushed it with his thumb. The glow revealed nothing but black... until the shadow moved. A massive hound rose to its feet. The thing topped a yardstick at the shoulders with a ruff that spread out from its neck in a warning display only a fool would ignore. Fangs as long as his finger gleamed white in the darkness, and its claws sparked green flame as it walked across the porch.

Great. She had a hellhound.

“Nice doggy.”

His goal, already difficult, got that much harder.

The day’s frustrations caught up with him. The wards hiding her had finally crashed down early that morning with a force that jolted him from his favorite dream of a woman with long, dark hair and beautiful curves. The magical shock had made him forget her abruptly, leaving behind the panic that danger was coming for her and she was unprepared. He was consumed with an overwhelming need to make sure that she was all right.

After he shook off that first hazy fear, he began to consider the real implications of those shields falling after they’d been in place for ten years. His irrational worry turned to legitimate concern. If he could find her, so could the Brotherhood. And they wouldn’t balk at hurting her to get to the chip, just like they’d been hunting down and hurting everyone else who had a copy of it. Including his own brother.

So Danil traveled all the way to Nocturne Falls to do the right thing and reassure himself that she was safe, and he was blocked at every turn.

He took a deep breath and tried to find his usual calm.

Since the gate was resisting him, Danil decided he’d go around the fence, which was merely decorative anyway. It spread across the front of the house, then ended at two slightly bedraggled cherry trees, one on either side. He walked around the scruffy things, but with every step he took thorns reached out to snag his clothing no matter how far from them he moved. Interesting. Cherry trees were not native to Georgia, and they didn’t have thorns.

After walking about a quarter mile trying to get around that tiny fence and those two little trees, he finally gave up. He was begrudgingly impressed. It was subtle magic, but effective. The property was warded to defend itself by not letting anyone in. He stalked back to the gate to glare at the door – and the dog.

The house stood passively, although he swore he detected a hint of smugness in the set of the windows.

The hound lifted one lip in a silent snarl.

He snarled back.

Danil had left his coat carefully hanging in the back seat of the car, and now he rolled up the sleeves of his fine dress shirt, keeping the lines straight for each of the three, precise folds.

Each roll revealed more and more of the sharp-edged tattoos that covered the inside of his forearms. The ink was bespelled and blended with alchemical elements. The shapes were intricate, some even delicate, and each was linked to the charey, the magic in his blood. Every stab of the needle had filled him with agony, but he had withstood the pain to become one of the Brotherhood of Mysteries.

Though he regretted being associated with them now, the power he’d gained through the tribulations might make the difference in keeping both Katya and his creation safe from them.

Putting that magic to work, he brought his forearms together until the symbols on his skin touched and sparked, coming to life on his body. Reaching out, he pushed his hands through the air in front of him, toward the house.

Danil didn’t want to hurt anything, but he wouldn’t let these little wards from a little witch stand in his way. Best to get this over with in one blow.

“Otkryto! Open!” The charey from his tattoos glowed, then shoved outward toward the gate. The last thing he saw was all that power bouncing off an invisible shield and rushing right back toward him.

This was going to hurt.

Chapter Two

Katya Dostoyevna clapped the dust off her hands before planting them on her hips.

And that, she thought, is that. The end of an era.

Yesterday, it had been a year since her aunt, her Tetya Irina, had passed on to whatever reward the gods saw fit to give her.

In the nine years they had lived together at Charey Dom, which the locals called Cherry House, the woman had never once shown a shred of affection toward her. She had provided food, a room in a crumbling, cramped Russian style mansion to sleep in, all the books Katya could possibly read – as long as she liked history of magic – and all the acreage to explore and use any way she wanted. Put that way, it sounded like a lot. Her aunt’s hoarding had made things difficult, but the freedom to learn and do things on her own and protection from an arranged marriage she had never wanted were true gifts.

Scratching an itch on her eyebrow with her wrist because her fingers were coated in grime, she looked around the attic, which now held only a few boxes of her aunt’s “collectibles.”

They were mostly her keepsakes of a career as a professional ballerina, cut short due to injury. Her aunt had never gotten over the disappointment of having to stop dancing, and it had changed her. Becoming a recluse in Nocturne Falls, so far from the family that had emigrated to Volshev, Irina had hoarded all sorts of things that caught her eye, and it had been everything Katya could do to keep a handle on it all.

If it hadn’t been for the help of the domovoi, or house spirit, Cherry House would have caved in on them years ago. Their hard work had made sure the house survived. Now that Irina was gone, it was not only surviving, it was thriving.

For the last year, if she hadn’t been working at her animal sanctuary, she’d been with Goga, cleaning and sorting through decades of accumulated miscellanea, most of which was trash. She had donated hundreds of pounds of clothing to charity shops, recycled a mountain of papers, shredded another mountain of it, sent dozens of valuable books out to be restored, and become an eBay whiz.

Today, she was done. The boxes she had stored up here were either family heirlooms too ugly to display, the more worn and tattered of the memories from her aunt’s dancing career, or the last few pieces of worthwhile junk that hadn’t sold yet. Katya looked around the well-organized and dust-free attic and smiled. Her home was beautiful. And clean.

She couldn’t stop her gaze from wandering to the pretty little square hatbox that was hers, stashed under the newly gleaming window. One more look couldn’t hurt, she decided before she removed the lid and sat down to read.

As the scent of old paper wafted up to her, she recalled the first letter she’d ever written to Danil Leonov.

Dear Danil,

My name is Ekaterina Ludmilla Dostoyevna Easton. I am called Katya. My babushka Olga told me I had to start writing to you at Christmas, Easter, and on your birthday. She told me we’re going to get married when I turn eighteen. My mother cried, my father yelled, and Baba Olga told me to be good or the nocnitsa would get me.

I have a dog named Kolya. He is a good dog, but Baba says he is getting old. Do you have a dog?

Until Easter,

Katya.

She hadn’t received a reply, but dutifully – and afraid of the nocnitsa – she had written again and again. She had asked if he’d gotten what he wanted at Christmas and whether his family made pysanky at Easter.

For two years, she wrote to him without any response. After the first few letters, she started using the letters as a sort of journal, telling this boy she’d never met, and to whom she was promised, the things she dreamed, the things she feared, and most of all, about the animals she loved.

One day, soon after the letter she’d sent for his birthday, she finally got something in the mail.

Katya,

You don’t have to keep writing to me. We’re not going to get married. I’m in high school. I have a girlfriend.

Happy Easter,

Danil

PS. I’m sorry your dog died.

It was as magical to her as if the letter had arrived through the leylines. He was a real person! She immediately responded.

Danil,

Is your girlfriend pretty? Do you like high school? I don’t like school. I like learning, but I don’t have many friends. I read a lot. I’m reading The Hobbit right now. I like it.

You don’t have to write back. Do you think you’ll marry your girlfriend? I hope you do and live happily ever after, like in the fairy tales. I don’t think I want to get married. I’ll just have books and pets.

Happy birthday,

Katya

PS. Thank you. Kolya was a good dog.

PPS. I have to keep writing, or the nocnitsa will get me.

KATYA,

There’s no such thing as a nocnitsa.

Danil

DANIL,

Yes, there is. She’s one of my Baba Olga’s friends, and she comes for tea and cakes every Thursday morning.

Katya

So began a correspondence that lasted for years. She never met him in person. He was eight years older, and the Leonov’s circle of wealthy friends was far outside her family’s comfortably happy, middle-class, public-school life. Even more than that, it sometimes seemed to Katya as if their families deliberately kept them apart. Volshev wasn’t that big a town. Surely, at some point, they would have been bound to be in the same place at the same time. It never happened, and he graduated from high school and moved away.

When he got to college, he sent her a postcard from Yale. The letters slowed down then, but they always arrived on Christmas, Easter, and their birthdays. He graduated with degrees in Chemistry and Computer Science before moving to England. She wrote more often than he did, telling him about her first days of high school while he began working on his Master’s in Inorganic Chemistry. She pinned the postcards from Oxford to her wall and sighed in wonder and a little bit of envy.

When he began his PhD studies at MIV – the Metaphysical Institute of Vladivostok –they began using the leyline postal service. His advanced alchemical education could only be conducted over the border into the Rus fae world, so normal mail routes didn’t exist. Nonetheless, the letters continued.

He told her about his topic, Alchemical Diffusion of Trace Metaphysical Elements on Integrated Circuits in Order to Facilitate Connections Across Fae/Mundane Borders, and even though it made no sense to her, she celebrated when he finished. He even sent her one of his early prototypes of the chip he was developing in a pretty silk bag, tucked inside a matryoshka doll painted like a firebird.

Katya took the doll out of the box where it was stored with the letters and ran her finger over the delicate design. It was the last thing she received from him for a long time, because the next letter she wrote changed everything.

Danil,

I hope you’re having a wonderful time in Vladivostok finishing your degree. Do you have a girlfriend there, or are you too busy being brilliant? I’m very proud of you for what you’ve accomplished.

Your mother came to see us to begin the wedding preparations. She said the ceremony would take place the day after my birthday, which unfortunately is during finals week. When I mentioned it, she just... looked at me. As if I was not too bright. As if graduating from high school was not important. And when I said that I was interested in going to veterinary school, she got very angry. She told me that I was going to marry you, have your babies, and host social functions, and that you weren’t going to tolerate any filthy animals around you.

Danil, I’m sorry. It never seemed real until now, but I can’t marry you. I can’t do all those things. I have dreams of my own. So I’m leaving. I’m not even going to get to graduate from high school with my friends, but I have to go somewhere you won’t be able to find me. I know this isn’t you doing this – it’s your family – but the Leonovs are powerful and we can’t fight them.

If I can, I’ll keep writing to you.

Please don’t look for me. I can’t be what you need or what your family needs.

Katya

Chapter Three

Katya jumped when a racket shook the house. Dulcinea, her adorable hellhound who was due to whelp any day now, was rattling the windows with sudden, savage barking, and Goga rushed into the attic, his large, dark eyes wide with panic.

“Gospozha! Mistress! There is a man!”

The letters dropped from her lap and scattered all over the floor.

“Are the wards holding?”

“Yes, gospozha, but he is powerful.”

She and Goga had improved many of the security measures around the house after Irina passed. They’d strengthened the wards all around and did their best with the ones along the drive that led to the animal sanctuary. Those would always be a little weaker because there were always strangers coming to visit the shelter.

With so many unfamiliar faces around, she had decided that the ability to get a broad view of the property would be useful. It also just so happened that she’d downloaded an app from Leonov Industries that allowed users to maintain a magical bird’s eye view of their homes. She’d asked Ryan Ford, a local falcon shifter, to do a full fly-over with a small action cam. Then she uploaded the footage to the program, which now kept a constant, up to the minute watch over the house.

She pulled up the app on her tablet and put it in night-vision mode. A figure lay sprawled out on the summer-dry grass of the path that led to the gate. Katya zoomed in on the image.

She and Goga both stared at the screen, then looked at each other. The domovoi shrugged.

Katya slowly opened the door and looked out. Dulcie had planted herself at the top of the steps, and her continuous growl made the floor of the porch thrum with menace. Her ruff was completely lifted, forming a mane of dark fur that stood out visibly on her neck and shoulders, with brimstone-scented smoke rising from it. Katya didn’t need to look at her to know that her eyes gleamed with balefire, a gaze that was like looking into the bowels of hell itself.

Sweet baby. So protective.

She turned on the porch light, and the dark-haired man propped himself up onto his elbows, and covered his eyes from the glare. Slowly, he rose to his feet and dusted himself off, brushing his hands over his clothes to get rid of the bits of grass and dirt that clung to him.

It couldn’t be. It wasn’t possible.

“Danil?” she whispered.

He stopped in the middle of whacking grass out of his hair.

Danil Leonov was far more handsome in real life than in either her dreams, or on social media. Tall, lean, elegant, aristocratic. All the very best versions of those. He had a long, thin nose, and cheekbones that could cut glass. His hair brushed the collar of a button-down shirt, and his very nice dress trousers were... not as nice as they’d been a few minutes ago. Oh dear. Georgia red clay didn’t come out.

The sharp intensity of his dark gaze pinned her where she stood, and an uncomfortable silence filled the space between them for ever-longer moments until she had to say something.

“What are you doing here?”

He blinked, and she could breathe again. Danil Leonov – the man she’d run away from ten years ago, the man whose words she had held close to her breast just moments ago – was standing outside her gate.

“You have excellent wards,” he said, avoiding the question.

“Yes, I know.”

“But some of them failed very early this morning, Ekaterina Dostoyevna. The ones that were hiding you from me. And if I can find you, so can others. Call off your house and your hound and let me in.”

Katya reached back blindly and met Goga’s small, furry, trembling hand. With her other hand, she held up a finger to the man outside, indicating that he should stay put for a moment while she ducked back behind the solid oak door.

“What do I do?” she whispered violently.

The domovoi shrugged. “Is he danger to house?”

“No.” She paused and checked her gut reaction. “No, he isn’t. He’s no danger to Charey Dom or anyone in it.”

“If he is, we can feed him to Dulcie. Or let Bubba take him.”

Katya stared at the little house spirit for a moment, forcefully reminded that Goga wasn’t human and didn’t think the same way about disposing of enemies. Still, he made a good point. Cherry House and its inhabitants were far from defenseless, even if he did get inside the wards.

She nodded, then opened the door fully. Her hand had to lift several inches to rest on Dulcie’s head, but her touch calmed the dog, who quit growling. Mostly.

When she’d arrived at Cherry House she had taken over responsibility for the wards, although it seemed that there were some that her aunt had kept secret. There must have been a shielding spell on her that she didn’t know about. Since it had been a year and a day since Irina’s death, this would be the moment for those to fail. She’d have refreshed them and stayed hidden if she’d known what to do.

But he was here now, waiting for her to let him in, so Katya performed the spell needed to dispell the wards. It wasn’t a simple task. Irina hadn’t wanted visitors, so she’d made it difficult for them to get very far. Every locked layer of the shield had its own special key. Each phrase freed a spell, each gesture lifted a barrier, and each offering of her spirit released a hint of the magic that protected Charey Dom, an Enchanted House in every sense of the word.

When she was done, she looked once again at the man standing before her who she knew too well, and not at all. He opened the gate and as he approached, he brought a hand from behind his back. Though he’d held nothing in it before, now he carried a bouquet of brilliant red roses that would have made her aunt gasp even in her days as a prima ballerina.

“A thank you for the gift of your generosity, and for letting me in.”

He didn’t come all the way up the stairs. Dulcie had stopped growling, but she bared her fangs at him when he put his foot on the bottom step. Instead, he held the flowers out to Katya.

She wanted them. Badly. She’d never received such gorgeous flowers before from anyone, and every part of her that loved beautiful things wanted to leap toward the offering and bury her face in the fragrant blooms.

She had learned caution, especially when dealing with a Leonov, so she simply stepped aside with her hellhound to let him enter the house.

The flowers burst into smoke the moment they passed the threshold, and he stumbled backward, smacking into the door frame with bruising force.

Katya raised a brow, and Dulcie barked out a self-satisfied woof. She echoed the sentiment.

“Really, Danil?”

He shrugged, and grinned at her a little sheepishly. “I had to try.”

Chapter Four

The roses had been enchanted with a sleeping spell, which the house had destroyed the moment he entered. 

So much for going about this the easy way. All he wanted to do was get Katya and the chip back to Volshev, where he could keep them safe until the Brotherhood was dealt with. If she was asleep, he could have just carried her away and been back home by lunch time tomorrow.

Of course, he hadn’t really planned on the hellhound or the warded house. He certainly wasn’t prepared to encounter the small, furry man standing in front of him, blocking his way.

“You have a domovoi?” He’d never seen a house spirit in the mundane world before. They still occupied some of the homes he’d visited in the Rus, but he’d never met one outside the fae borders. If a house was fortunate enough to have a domovoi, the little spirit would protect the home, care for it, and keep its inhabitants from harm. Which explained why his bespelled flowers never made it into the house.

Katya followed him through the door, flanked by the hound who was still glaring at him. Now Katya glared at him, too. “He’s not a pet. I don’t have him. He lives here. This is his home.”

“My apologies. Moy izvineniya.” He bowed to the little man who sniffed and stalked down the hall, leaving him in the entryway of a home that couldn’t possibly be the same as the one he’d seen from the outside.

This house gleamed with attention and care, every piece of furniture, every fixture, every objet d’art thoughtfully placed and beautifully maintained. Where the exterior did nothing to attract notice, the interior welcomed its inhabitants with every sense. The carved wood wainscot begged to be touched, the light scent of lemon polish invited deep breaths, even the faint clanking of the ceiling fans – certainly not Russian standard, but it was Georgia, after all – made him feel as though this home was a place for people to live fully. Not just somewhere to sleep and eat when they weren’t working.

Nothing at all like the house where he’d been raised.

“This is beautiful, Katya. I’m a little envious that this is where you came when you ran away from Volshev.”

She was still standing just inside the door with her arms crossed. He doubted she realized that far from intimidating him with her temper, it drew his eye to the figure she’d hidden under a pair of loose denim overalls.

Danil was finally close enough to get his first good look at her. The only picture he’d ever seen was a newspaper cutout of her with some classmates, holding up a prize for moving on to the state spelling bee. She’d been ten years old, short, and a little pudgy, with her hair in a long braid.

The woman in front of him, however, was no longer that little girl. She was still a bit short, although he supposed that was relative, given that he was three inches over six feet. Her pre-adolescent pudge had morphed into curves that... Wow. The women he dated tended to be slender and willowy, rather than shaped like pinup girls.

He was long overdue for a change.

Her bangs were up in an old-fashioned sweep, but the rest of her hair was covered with a bandana. She reminded him of that old World War Two poster of a woman holding up her muscled arm, having taken over construction work while the men were at war. Tough, but feminine, and somehow familiar.

She still had her arms crossed.

“You think it always looked like this?” She huffed out a derisive sound. “Tetya Irina was a hoarder. From the day I got here until just after she passed, the usable space of this hallway was no wider than your shoulders. Junk was stacked above my head. Papers, boxes, things she bought and couldn’t bear to get rid of.”

“Then how...”

“Goga. The domovoi of Cherry House. Irina thought of him the same way you did, but not as a pet. More like an indentured servant, even though she never let him do his work and care for the house. Once she passed and we started to clean, everything changed. I had no idea the woodwork here was so lovely, or that it had survived so many years of neglect and abuse.” Her shoulders unclenched and she reached out to run her fingers over the warm wood. He experienced that pang of envy again. This time, because he wanted to know how her touch felt on him, rather than the wall.

“So you saved it,” he murmured.

Finally, he saw the first hint of a smile on her face. “It’s what I do.”

He followed her down the hall, and began to see what she meant. The hellhound, who he could now tell was about to whelp, walked between them, guarding her mistress.

A small scuffling sound joined the party, and he looked down to see an elderly terrier trot up to Katya. She bent and scooped him up, her comfortable, one-armed hold on the old dog telling Danil that she’d done this frequently. As they entered the kitchen, which smelled of anise and cinnamon, a sleek gray tabby seated by the screen door turned its head to regard them.

Katya paused and nodded respectfully at the cat, which nodded back before it turned into a wisp of smoke and floated through the screen.

“That was Sayuri. She’s a nekomata.”

“A what?”

“Nekomata. A Japanese spirit that shapeshifts into a cat. She prefers to stay a cat whenever possible.”

He nodded. Right. Because why wouldn’t a beautiful Russian girl have a hellhound, a domovoi, an ancient terrier, and a Japanese ghost cat?

“I’ll make tea. Please sit.” She waved a graceful but unadorned hand to a kitchen chair, put the little dog down, and began filling the kettle.

He’d noticed the lack of ring immediately, and a previously nebulous worry in him relaxed. There was no other man in her life. At least not one serious enough to be engaged to her, and anyone else, he could take care of. He frowned at the direction his thoughts had taken. Not that he was going to take care of anyone. He had no intention of acting on the instinct that had awakened him that morning.

A massive iron stove dominated the room, putting off a gentle heat that somehow didn’t overwhelm him, despite the sultry evening. The domovoi grabbed a saucer filled with cream and a small plate with a cupcake off the windowsill and, with a final, withering glare at Danil, carried them with him as he disappeared under the antique cooker.

“You’ve been here for five minutes, and already you’ve made so many friends.” Katya pulled out cups and saucers, milk, sugar, and a box marked “Delaney’s Delectables.” More cupcakes like the ones the house spirit had taken were set out on a serving plate, and Danil decided that, although the meatloaf and mashed potatoes from Mummy’s had been delicious, he still had room for dessert.

It was a bit surreal to him that Katya was going about her business as if wayward almost-husbands turned up at her door every day. He discovered he was wrong when she lifted the teapot to pour. Her hand shook so badly the thin, fragrant, brown stream splashed over the edge of his cup, spattering little drops over the pristine tabletop. She pulled in a breath that he almost mistook for a sob, but no other sound followed it.

“Kotik.” The endearment slipped out without thought. Kitten. He’d been calling her kitten in his head for years.

Two years of silence had followed her last letter, telling him she was leaving Volshev. His family – well, his mother, at least – had been furious. His brother, Gavril, had tried to help but to no avail. Without telling anyone, Danil hired a private investigator to search through mundane means. He had also tried every magic he could think of to find her. It was no use. She’d completely disappeared, and it seemed she didn’t want to be found.

Then a letter arrived through the leylines.

Danil,

I’m sorry it’s been so long since I’ve written. We only just now finished fine-tuning a no-tracking spell for leyline mail. I can’t tell you anything about where I live except to say it’s very... full.

The best part is that there are so many animals here for me to take care of. A mama cat I named Aglaya just had her litter in the carriage house. The babies only opened their eyes yesterday and already one little kotik is trying to climb me like a tree.

I hope you’re doing well with your microchips. Are you still studying or have you finished and gone back to Volshev? Please let me know how you’re doing.

Katya.

P.S. Happy Easter, Merry Christmas, and Happy Birthday for all the holidays I’ve missed!

As if a dam had overflowed, he began receiving letters from her every month. He answered them all, even if he didn’t have much to say. Every time he put pen to paper, there was a small part of him that was afraid she would disappear again, so he held back and didn’t write the things he wanted to write.

And he didn’t call her kotik the way he wanted to.

He’d written back eagerly searching for any news of her, but she never let slip even a hint of where she might be, other than she might be in a somewhat rural area and still in the northern hemisphere because their seasons matched. His clever kotik gave him nothing else to go on.

Danil,

The kittens have grown enough to go to new homes. Even their mother, Aglaya, has found her people. The local veterinarian allowed me to clean up the kennels in exchange for spaying her. He says he will also call me if any strays come in, so I can look after them. His clinic is too small to hold them and not all the animals are strictly mundane. I’ve been thinking of clearing out some space in the barn for some of the more unique creatures who arrive here.

To answer your question, no, I don’t have any boyfriends. I still find it difficult to talk to people and I worry they’ll laugh if I say something stupid, so I don’t say much at all. Despite everything that has gone differently than planned, the more things change, the more they stay the same.

Katya

He’d been inordinately glad to hear that she wasn’t dating, then told himself it shouldn’t matter. She was alone. Lonely, perhaps. He wasn’t going to marry her, he reminded himself, so why shouldn’t she date? It was with two minds that he wrote back to her.

Katya,

I’m glad to hear that your kittens have been placed with people who love them almost as much as you do. We didn’t have pets growing up and I wouldn’t know what to do with one, although I think I might prefer dogs.

I think it’s good that you’re not dating. You sound very busy already, with your animals and working for the vet. Although wouldn’t you rather do something less dirty than clean up after animals?

Danil

DANIL,

I don’t mind cleaning up. The doctor teaches me a lot about how to care for basic issues while I work, so I’m learning. It’s not vet school like I’d hoped, but I’m happy.

You’re right, I’m far too busy to date. I’ve decided to clear out the barn entirely, which is a tricky business. When I’m done, I’ll have room for many creatures, both supernatural and mundane. If I allow myself to dream, I imagine that someday I’ll have two buildings – one for each type of animal since their needs are so different.

What about you? Are you dating? I don’t see how you’d have time, either, with all your studies.

Katya

That little snap at the end had him keeping his social life quiet. It didn’t seem fair that he should go from one relationship to another when he knew she worked at home with her animals. Not that he wished her lonely, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to see her falling for anyone. In the meantime, he traveled and studied.

Danil,

I see from your last letter that you are taking a sabbatical to Turkey. Please be careful. If you see a roc or an azhdaha, take a picture! But mostly, be safe.

I worry.

Katya

Danil kept her letter in his pocket, and climbed through the rocky Caucasus until he spotted a roc, an enormous bird of prey that could carry an ox in each claw, and took a photograph.

The letters they passed back and forth never mentioned any feelings or emotions outright. When she left, it seemed a big enough statement that they were better off as friends. He had agreed with her.

At the time.

As the years passed, he started to wonder if perhaps he should have tried harder to find her after all.

Chapter Five

Katya put down the pot and let him pour while she shoved her hands in her lap. She clenched them into hard fists and concentrated on the ache to try to stop the trembling in her fingers.

As long as Danil had remained on paper – an almost mythical creature who had the ability to disturb her life from afar, but never face-to-face – it had been easy to talk to him, pouring out all her hopes and dreams and imaginings into her letters. She had a hard time talking to most people. Her friends, Daria Scanlon and Carina Valdis, had pulled her into their circle, and now she opened up to them almost like family.

Strangers were more difficult, but she’d learned to do it for the sake of her animal sanctuary. There was no getting around fund raising and grant presentations, particularly the quarterly meeting she had with Sebastian Ellingham, who was more or less the CFO of Nocturne Falls. He’d been invaluable in helping her set up the business necessities of a sanctuary. When the Ellinghams threw their support behind an endeavor, they went full bore. It helped that they were genuinely nice people.

Well, their grandmother leaned toward the terrifying, but Katya had grown up under the gimlet eye of Baba Olga. She and Eleanora Ellingham would have either been best friends, or they would have annihilated each other.

Danil was another story. As a much younger woman, she’d spent too much time rehearsing their first meeting, too many hours imagining that she’d be cool and clever and sharp. That she’d grow six inches and lose fifteen pounds. That with a wiggle of her nose, she’d magically be wearing designer clothing, and her hair would look like she just came from some ritzy salon.

Instead, he’d shown up on her porch and she’d just been... her. No wonder she was having a nervous breakdown.

Dulcie heaved herself up from her giant bed by the stove with a groan and butted her head against Katya’s shoulder. With a sniffle she tried to hide from her guest, she wrapped her arms around Dulcie’s neck and buried her face in the brimstone-scented ruff. It wasn’t the nicest thing to smell, but the comfort more than made up for it.

Seconds passed and all she heard was Dulcie’s thick heartbeat and the faint clanking of a spoon against porcelain.

Mr. Puddles – the nearly blind old terrier who hadn’t made a puddle in the house since the day he moved in with her – laboriously stretched up to put his paws on her knee. With a rather damp laugh, she put a hand on his head.

Distracted as she was, she didn’t notice Arnold until he pecked her on the shoulder. The miniature gryphon was only the size of a Maine coon cat, as opposed to a fully grown lion. It was a blessing in some ways, but his size made it all too easy for a mythical creature to get into places he shouldn’t have been able to fit. Also, he both molted his feathers and shed cat hair. At least he was litter box trained.

She gave a final sniffle as she smiled at all the love that surrounded her. “All my darlings,” she cooed. “And Arnold, get off the table.”

The gryphon leaped heavily onto her shoulder and wrapped himself around her neck. Katya oofed out a breath, then cast a quick look at Danil, who watched her carefully but with no discernible scorn at her display of emotion.

“He’s heavy,” she said, excusing herself.

“I bet. Katya, exactly how many animals do you have here?”

She tried to recall the figures she’d seen in the office earlier today. “Right now, about twenty mundane types – dogs and cats, mostly, plus the pair of guinea pigs that were surrendered earlier this week. On the supernatural side, about a dozen – not including the ones who like to pop in and out to visit.”

The local kelpie – a black, Scottish, fae, killer, water horse named Bubba – had claimed the nearby Wolf Creek as his territory, so he was always close though few ever saw him. He liked to wander into the sanctuary to visit his girlfriend, Galatea. She was a stunningly delicate unicorn who had come through a portal a few months back, but she showed no inclination to leave.

Dulcie padded back to her bed and Mr. Puddles followed her. Somehow, they arranged themselves so that Mr. Puddles, who was a tenth the size of the hellhound, had exactly half of the giant pillow.

“Do you have someone who could take over if, say, you had to suddenly leave for a while?”

Everything inside her stilled. “Not really. A day or two. A week, if it was an outright emergency, but things would start falling apart. I just hired a full-time assistant a couple of weeks ago. She doesn’t know enough to handle everything yet.”

“Well, sh–” He cut himself off and glanced at her. “Shoot.” He sighed and sat back in his chair as if what she’d said held great weight.

She tilted a suspicious brow. “Why is it so important?” Her nerves had settled after all that pet-snuggle therapy, but he was making her jittery again. “What’s wrong, Danil? Why, exactly, are you here?”

“Would you believe me if I said I wanted to marry you?”

“No” she said bluntly. She had refused to ever seriously entertain the thought. It was too painful. She’d been the one who ran off, too young to imagine getting married to anyone, and she wasn’t sure that was forgivable.

He shrugged, although she saw a sharp glint in his eye at her direct refusal. “Fair enough. But even though we never met before, we’ve been friends for a long time. I never meant to put you in danger.”

Every creature in the room went on alert.

“What do you mean?” She set her tea and cupcake aside. “You’d better tell me what’s going on.”

He sighed. “You’ll want to drink that. It’s good for shock.”

“Arnold, would you?” She addressed the gryphon who leapt back up onto her lap and dropped his hawk bill into the cup. Lifting his head, he swallowed and shook all over, his feathers ruffling and his long cat tail swishing. Nothing else happened.

“Did you just have your gryphon test your tea for poison?”

“Or magic. I’m not feeling a lot of trust right now.”

“You didn’t have to be so obvious about it.” He seemed disgruntled, but she shrugged, mimicking his earlier action.

“You shouldn’t have tried to give me ensorcelled roses.”

They glared at each other over the table until Danil blinked. “Fine. You’re right. Peace?” He held out his hand for her to shake.

Waves of caution came to her from the animals in the kitchen. She even felt a hint of it from the animals who lived behind the glamour of her shelter. The canines urged her to pace all the way around Danil, sniffing out his intent. The felines told her to freeze in the shadows and watch for his next move. The birds told her to fly to a higher perch, out of reach.

She was only a woman, and one who had a far more complicated history with this man than they could know.

“Do you promise not to try and bespell me again? It hasn’t worked so far, and it won’t. You’re going to get tired of getting knocked down.”

“I deserved that. Yes, I promise. I swear on the sigila pravdy that I will not try to bespell, enchant, ensorcell or bewitch you against your will, nor try to bend your will to mine with any magic whatsoever.”

He waited with this hand still out while she considered his words. He’d covered all the bases she could think of, and she’d caught a glimpse of the tattoos on his arms. Those weren’t simple body art. There was power in that ink. If he swore on his sigil of truth, he meant it.

She reached out to clasp his hand.

Chapter Six

Danil was getting tired of getting beaten up by magic.

When he came to his senses this time, nothing in the room had changed. He was still sitting in his chair, and Katya was still in hers. Their hands were still touching.

Everything was different.

They let go of each other with simultaneous gasps.

“What did you do to me?”

He should have expected the accusation in her voice. He’d earned it, but he didn’t like it.

“That wasn’t me. I swear it, Katya. I had nothing to do with that.”

They’d both risen out of their chairs and were backing away from each other. She retreated to the corner of the room, and her fear of him made him ache. Each animal in the house came to her aid and faced him down with varying degrees of hostility.

Until Dulcie lifted her nose. Reaching up slightly, she sniffed, then backed up to sneeze, shaking her head. Then she did it again, sniffing above her head. Slowly, she walked towards Danil, snuffling at something invisible until she stood directly in front of him, her head at his belt line and far too close to what lay just south of his belt for comfort.

All the power that lived under his skin would be worth nothing if he died in the jaws of a hellhound.

Except... Dulcie didn’t bite him. She didn’t even growl. Instead, she retraced her steps, her nose still in the air. When she returned to her mistress, they stared at each other for a moment until Katya frowned.

“Really?” she asked the dog.

“Really what?” he asked. What had just happened there?

“She says it’s a leash. I’m not sure if that’s the right word, but that’s the image I get. And it’s not from you, it’s from outside. It smells... old?” She glanced at the massive dog again, who woofed gently.

Her eyes rounded. “Oh no. It can’t be.”

He already knew where she was going. “The betrothal. The marriage promise. I think it just kicked in.” He expected a wave of bitterness to hit him as powerfully as the binding had, but it never did. A little fear, yes, and some anger at being manipulated, but the sense of being trapped simply never materialized.

In fact, the sensation singing through his blood felt familiar. He recognized it as simply a purer version of the unnamed need that had ridden him since he woke up that morning. Danil was simply drawn to her. Maybe by magic, but maybe by something more.

Katya, on the other hand, seemed to be embracing her rage a little more heartily.

“Perfect. That’s just perfect. You attack my house, try to enchant me, and now you’ve hauled me into this barbaric marriage curse.”

“It’s not a curse,” he protested.

“Are you sure? Because I can make it one!”

He should not be getting turned on by this, but his curvy little kotik was glorious when she lost her temper. The teacups began to tremble and levitate, darting back and forth above the table, splashing onto the wood. The hellhound, the terrier, and the gryphon all went straight for the back door, pushing it open and escaping into the night. Watching Dulcie run from her mistress made him start to think less ‘glorious’ and more ‘dangerous.’ Katya had a lot more power inside her than he’d thought.

“Kotik,” he said soothingly, reaching out a hand to her. “Maybe take it down a notch?”

“Why should I?”

“Because you just scared a hellhound. And you’re getting tea everywhere.”

He wasn’t sure which reason she listened to, but one of them worked. With a groan, she settled. The cups and saucers clunked back onto the table, and she dropped her head into her hands.

“This is not how I expected my day to go,” she muttered, her voice muffled by her fingers.

“Funny. When I woke up this morning, I had a feeling my day was going to go almost exactly like this.”

She chuckled, a weary little sound, but it was better than rage, better than fear. “You have very low standards for your days then.”

“There have been some perks.”

“Like what?”

He reached for one of her hands and she let him take it in both of his. No rings on her fingers, no polish on her nails, and they weren’t soft and perfumed and perfectly manicured, either. Instead, little calluses and scars were scattered over her fingers and palms and he ran his thumbs over each one.

“I finally got to meet you, Ekaterina Ludmilla Dostoyevna Easton, who believes in the nocnitsa and has a pregnant hellhound for a pet.”

She smiled, a little pink in the cheeks. “And I finally got to meet you, the world traveler, well-educated Danil Maximilovitch Leonov.”

“How did you know my middle name?”

“Danil.” She leveled a sardonic look at him. “It’s the twenty-first century. I googled you.”

He laughed and picked up a slightly sticky teacup. “I already knew I liked you.”

“Thank goodness for small blessings, since it seems we’re stuck together now.”

“Right.” He meant to say more, but the sip of tea and the sight of the beautiful cupcakes, now a little tilted on the plate, made him ravenous. He peeled the decorative paper off one and took a big bite.

He couldn’t help himself. He moaned.

“This is amazing. This shop is in town?”

Katya approached her cupcake in a slightly more civilized manner, cutting off dainty pieces with a fork. “Yes. The owner is Delaney Ellingham. Her husband, Hugh, is one of the family that owns Nocturne Falls.”

“Owns it?”

“They bought and developed most of the property, and turned it into a tourist town. One where people like us could live safely.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, we can be ourselves in plain sight, more or less. Vampires don’t have to hide their fangs, or faeries their wings, or elves their ears. The bottled water that gets sold everywhere makes the human tourists sort of... fuzzy on the magic. They see what they want to see, so they think everything’s a costume. Part of the gimmick. They think the gargoyle in the town fountain is just a statue.”

“That’s really a gargoyle?” He’d seen the towering stone figure as he drove through town and noted how lifelike it seemed.

“It’s a part-time gig, but they’re actually for security. They keep an eye out and make sure there isn’t any trouble.”

“That’s amazing.”

He finished off his delicious cupcake and made a mental note to buy more next time he drove through the odd little magical town.

“This is a good place to live. I can help supernatural creatures that need me. I don’t know if I could do that anywhere else.”

As she spoke, he found himself reaching for her hands again. He played with her fingers, sliding his fingertips over hers for no other reason than he wanted to feel the warmth of her skin. It had to be a function of the binding, but he didn’t really care. It had been too long since he’d touched someone simply for the sheer pleasure of it.

Silence fell in the kitchen, and with it, a small measure of peace.

It was too good to last.

“We can’t stay like this, Danil. No matter what the spell has done.” Her fingers were looped with his, but she pulled back, and he missed her.

“I know. There’s a way around it, I’m sure.”

She nodded. “Is this what you were talking about when you mentioned danger?”

Danil could have kicked himself. For a few precious moments, he’d been distracted by this woman he knew so well, and yet, hardly at all. He opened his mouth to tell her what was hunting them, but a howl and a crash sounded from outside.

They looked at each other, then at the door.

Her next words summed it up nicely.

“What fresh hell is this?”

Chapter Seven

Katya hated to run. She always said that unless there was a killer clown coming after her, she could get anywhere she needed to go by walking.

But at the sound of that crash, she took off out the screen door like a Stephen King monster was on her heels. Danil caught up with her in a few long strides, and Dulcie, who shouldn’t have been running in her condition, easily overtook them. The rest of the creatures kept pace with the hellhound.

The shelter had only just finished being rebuilt after a catastrophic forest fire had mostly gutted the building a few months ago. They’d been fortunate not to lose any animals that time, and she’d be damned if any were injured now.

She yanked open the door of the shelter, and a shockingly strong current of water flowed over her shoes and made her wobble. She flung out a hand to steady herself, and Danil caught her.

“Burst pipes?” he asked, splashing in beside her.

“The building’s new. Inspected not six months ago.”

“Is there a creek or a lake nearby that flooded?”

“It hasn’t been that wet, and we’re out of the floodplain here. It would have to be a hundred-year event to come this far up.” Calm descended on her, like it usually did in times of crisis. She’d break down later, but for now, she looped a dozen leashes over her neck and pointed him to a wall of wire pet crates where a dozen yowling cats were staring at them, their fur fluffed out and their ears pinned back.

“Can you get the cats? I’ve got a wagon you can stack them in.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I’ll get the dogs out.” She found the fold-out wagon tucked into a corner of her overstuffed office and opened it up for him. “Dulcie can keep the pack together and get them to the other side with the fae animals, but I need to calm them down first.”

He nodded and started stacking cat crates, wading through the rushing water without complaint. Once they were in the wagon with the guinea pigs perched precariously above them, he pulled them carefully out the back door.

“What are you doing here? I thought you’d take them out the front.” She was gently coaxing a shivering teacup poodle and its fluffy Pomeranian buddy into a crate together. The little friends had climbed on top of the dog bed they shared. They’d been out of the water, but were still damp. They were so tiny she was concerned about them getting hypothermia from the chilly flood.

The other dogs were all being as calm as possible as she talked in a constant, low, encouraging murmur.

“There are my babies, my sweet little ones. No need to be scared of all this water.” An excitable foxhound mix got distracted by the cat crates and started to whine, but she shushed him.

“The cats are fine. You don’t need to bother them because they’re not bothering you.” The dog subsided, and she caught a glimpse of Danil staring at her.

“What?”

“You talk to them.”

“Everyone talks to their pets.” She shifted, uncomfortable in a way that had nothing to do with the cold water soaking her shoes.

“No, you’re really communicating with them.”

She was. It was her gift. The animals answered her, too. Not in words, so much, because they were animals, but in impressions, in sense and feeling. Right now, she was sending them waves of reassurance and calm.

Cats were less trusting, but that was their nature. At least they were contained, which was enough for now.

“Why didn’t you take them through the front?” she asked again.

“I’ve got a hunch that someone’s watching. If we all go out the back together, I can shield us. How far is it to the other building?”

“Only a few yards. Hold on a minute.” Katya pulled her cell phone out of her pocket. She’d installed the Leonov Bird’s Eye app on it, as well as her tablet, and pulled up her security system.

“Take a look at that.”

He grinned. “You downloaded my app. Very cool.”

“Do your tech-geek thing, Danil. There’s water in my shoes and my dogs are cold.”

“Right, right.” He slid his thumbs over the screen, tapping and touching until he found what he was looking for. A grim smile came over his face. “Gotcha.”

“What?”

“Even sorcerers can’t hide from infrared.” Vertical lines of anger settled deep around his mouth, but she had more immediate concerns.

“Can they see us if we go to the barn?”

“No, they shouldn’t be able to, but I’ll give us cover and clear a path.”

She kept her focus on the animals, but her mind was swirling with questions. Before they opened the back door, Danil rolled up his sleeves, pressing each fold neatly. He brought his forearms together until the sets of sigils matched up, and as she watched, they began to spark to life.

The cats cringed back into their cages, and even the most steadfast of the rescue dogs, a friendly Pit mix named Lulu, put her ears down and whimpered.

Danil’s eyes were closed, but his mouth was moving, muttering arcane phrases as different tattoos began to writhe and shimmer. Sweat broke out on his forehead, but he kept mumbling, magic pouring from his lips, gathering in volume and clarity until she finally recognized his words.

“We pass unseen in the darkness, like shadows blending into shadows.” The light around her dimmed, the only faint illumination coming directly from Danil’s body, his tattoos shining with power, lighting the way.

Dulcie woofed quietly and the dogs ranged around her. Katya took the guinea pigs and a cat crate off the top of the pile on the wagon and carried them, and Danil, with his kitty wagon, brought up the rear.

As quietly as they could, they walked the path behind the animal shelter to a different building. The non-magical people who saw this side of the shelter thought it was nothing more than an old, lightly rutted track that led down to the creek about a half mile away.

But under the glamour it was a neatly paved walkway to a newly refurbished barn. Inside were all kinds of housings and habitats, each one appropriate to its occupant.

The firebird perched in rafters that looked like wood but were actually spelled to be flame-proof. She’d built her nest there, studded with fragrant spices that lent an exotic warmth to the air.

The unicorn’s stall was hung with beautiful silks on the walls that she brushed up against to keep her coat smooth and beautiful, especially when she was getting ready to wander down to the creek to see Bubba, the kelpie who had claimed her for his herd.

There were other, less friendly creatures there, as well, but as long as they were left mostly to themselves and fed on time, they all maintained a peaceful accord.

Bubba had decided to keep his sweetheart company tonight, and they stood in the stall, facing each other and slack legged as they napped together. The kelpie woke with a snort and a waggle of his great, black head, spattering the silk walls with water from his perpetually damp mane.

He stepped out of the stall and stared down at the pack Dulcie was leading. Lulu broke away and stretched up her nose to sniff at him. Bubba leaned down and blew back at her gently before she retreated, her stubby tail wagging and a big doggie grin on her face.

The cats, however, realized that they were safe now, so they started wailing and yowling, complaining about their treatment and the shabby quality of the accommodations. Arnold jumped and flapped to the top of the stack of crates and hissed down at them, but they ignored him.

Eh. Cats.

Katya pushed a dampening spell at them and the noise level dropped appreciably.

“Wow,” said Danil, who stared around the barn in amazement.

Katya preened a little. As much as she loved ordinary dogs and cats and various animals, this was her pride and joy. The safe place she’d built for creatures not of this world.

“You made this?”

She nodded. “Most of it, yes. After the fire this spring, the Ellinghams gave me a grant to expand this barn and build up the wards around it. It wasn’t damaged, but they wanted to make sure nothing could hurt it.”

“Did you do all the protection yourself?”

“I had help. A friend of mine, Carina Valdis, is a norn – a Nordic soothsayer – but she’s gifted with wards and talismans, too.” She gestured to a large medieval-style tapestry featuring creatures from a bestiary – creatures exactly like the ones who were all staring at them from their habitats. “That’s not just a pretty cloth. She wove a lot of protection into it – neither fire nor water nor windstorms can touch this place.”

He gave her a considering look. “You have powerful friends.”

“You sounded just like your mother for a moment.” She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter what power they have, or if they have none. I just have friends.”

“You never struck me as being that naive, Katya.”

“And I never thought you were that mercenary.” The disparity in their world views strained the invisible cord between them, but she wanted to know what had happened to take the hope from his heart.

Chapter Eight

They faced off in the barn, dozens of creatures straight of fairy tales or nightmares watching them as they stood, wet from the knees down and shivering.

How could he tell her everything he’d done? Lay all his sins at her feet and expect her to forgive him.

All this – hunting her down, bringing danger to her doorstep, and the harm done to her animals – all this was his fault. His ignorant, foolish pride had done this to her. His, and his family’s.

Katya could be wrapped up safe in her parent’s house, or dating or married to some decent young man by now. She could be a veterinarian, up to her beautiful elbows in her own practice. But for his family’s interference in her life, she would be.

He’d been so close to following in their footsteps, too. All that time chasing the Brotherhood, thinking that if he could get some of that power, he could be free of his family’s heavy hand.

“I’m sorry, Katya. I made bad decisions, thought the wrong people were my friends, when I discovered they were using me as much as I was using them. You’re right. It was mercenary, and I don’t want to be like that. Like my family.”

She cocked her head and stroked Dulcie’s ears as the hound sat next to her, her jaws open and panting slightly. “Is all of your family like that? Only wanting more power?”

“Not Gavril.” His brother was a genius at business, able to take floundering companies and make them productive again, but he underneath the shrewd businessman, Gavril operated from a solid core of honor and integrity. Danil was ashamed of how far he’d strayed from that relationship, and vowed to make it up when he got home. “He somehow missed that gene.”

“I don’t think it’s a gene, Danil. I think it’s something that you were taught from the cradle, and that’s the hardest kind of thinking to change.”

She walked up to him, and for the first time, she was the one who took his hand. “You’re the smartest man I’ve ever known, and you have a great heart. You wouldn’t be helping us if you didn’t.”

Katya looked up at him, her blue eyes sweet and shining under long eyelashes, her old-fashioned hair swirls giving her a wholesome glamor that no movie star could ever replicate. This was the other side of her temper, and he liked it. Liked all of her sides. He leaned down, ready to take the generosity and forgiveness she offered, when a big black horse, dripping wet, bumped her shoulder and knocked her off balance.

“Bubba,” she grunted. “Timing, buddy. You need to work on your timing.”

The horse whickered at her, and she introduced him.

“Danil, this is Bubba, the kelpie who claimed Wolf Creek.”

He grabbed her elbow and tried to pull her away from the dangerous beast. Kelpies were dark creatures, members of the Unseelie court. They were predators, feeding on travelers unwary and unwise enough to wander the bogs and moors. Foolish humans tried to capture the black horses they saw running wild, but the moment their hands touched the horse’s skin, they were trapped, stuck to the kelpie as it ran off with them, down into the depths of the violently tumbling creeks and rivers where they lived. The humans were never seen again, and the kelpies grew fat.

Katya shook him off and raised a brow. “What are you doing?”

“That thing is dangerous, kotik. Come away.”

“What? Bubba? He’s fine. He doesn’t hurt people. I mean, they might go on a wild ride, but he always brings them back alive. Just really, really wet.”

The horse with the devil in its black eyes blinked at Danil, then rubbed its nose against Katya’s shoulder.

She laughed affectionately in the face of danger. “I don’t have any apples for you. We ran out here in a rush because there’s water all over...” Her voice trailed off and Danil peered at her with concern.

“What? What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking that I’m standing here talking to one of the most powerful water fae in existence while my animal shelter floods.” She turned to the horse and placed her hands on its cheeks. “There’s water everywhere in there, my friend. I don’t know what happened or where it came from. Can you help?”

He shook his head and snorted, showering her, Danil, the dogs and the cats with slightly brackish water. Danil got smacked in the face with something cold and slick. When he pulled it off his cheek, he saw it was a bit of pond weed.

“Yech,” he said, wiping it off with disgust. “Where does that even come from?”

“He’s a kelpie. It seems to cling to him.” She addressed the horse again. “What do you think? Can you help?”

Bubba pulled free and walked to the door.

“Hold on a moment,” said Danil, staring at the Bird’s Eye app. The red blurs of the people who had started this had moved away from the sanctuary. They were safe for now.

He and Katya and the black horse walked back to the shelter under the illusion he made. When they opened the door, she gasped. The water had risen even more, the steady, low gurgle an eerie sound in the otherwise empty building.

Everything about this was wrong, he could feel it. Even the water swirling up his legs felt off, somehow. A sob, not unlike the one Katya had swallowed earlier, got his attention. Her cheeks were a furious red and she shoved the heels of her hands against her eyes to stem the tears of anger he could see on her face.

“I don’t understand. How did this happen?” Her voice was a rough whisper of confusion and helpless rage. Sentiments he could heartily echo.

He couldn’t leave her to deal with it alone, though. Not anymore. He pulled her into his arms and wrapped her up, trying to soak up some of her heartache. Her hands crept around his waist and hung on.

For a moment, they paused and leaned on each other. Feeling her heart beat against his chest, he decided this was something he’d like to get used to.

But there was work to be done. She sniffled and straightened out of his hold, her eyes not quite meeting his after she swiped away the dampness on her cheeks. “Right. Let’s get to it.”

Reluctant to leave the moment behind, however, Danil reached out and tucked a finger under her chin. Her blue eyes were brilliant in the aftermath of tears. “We’ll get through this.”

Her lips trembled as a smile smile crept across her face. “Thank you. I’m sorry I called you mercenary.”

“I’m sorry I called you naive. You’re a good person, Katya. Never change.”

He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. It wasn’t much of a first kiss – he didn’t have the time to pull her close and explore the way he wanted – but they were standing in rising water. Priorities.

Another wave of that wrong feeling touched him, and he knelt into the water, briefly mourning his trousers. First getting smeared with red clay dust, now flood waters? He doubted even Goga could get them clean again.

Beside him, Bubba dropped his head to the water and blew on it, then jerked his head back, his dark eyes rolling.

“Yeah, I’m getting that feeling, too.” Not that he was talking to the horse. He couldn’t really understand it, but the creature had its way of making its feelings clear. Something wasn’t right.

He dipped his hand into the water and rubbed one of his sigils to life with wet fingers.

“What are you doing?” Katya peered over his shoulder and he showed her the swirling tattoo on his arm.

“Testing the water. Or rather, testing the illusion of water.”

“What?”

He held out his hand. His dry hand. “It’s not real.”

She grabbed his fingers. “No. Your hand was wet a minute ago.”

Danil pulled power from that sigil and stood, raising his hand over the water that appeared to be flooding the animal sanctuary.

Katya was still holding his other hand and he felt the connection to a well of enchantment that was fresh and churning with life. In that space were magic lives, he touched his fingertips to the charey that bubbled under Katya’s skin, and was almost overwhelmed by its purity and power. The spell he worked rang out with more strength than he’d ever wielded.

In moments, the water illusion was gone. The shelter stood just as clean and dry and organized as it had been before they ever stepped foot inside. Even their clothes dried, although his trousers were thoroughly wrinkled.

“I... I don’t understand.” Her fingers trembled in his and he held them a little more tightly.

“It was a decoy. They wanted to distract us, but from what?”

Her eyes widened and he felt the fear come off her in waves.

“Goga,” she whispered.

They hit the door at a run. The wards that usually surrounded the entire property with lazy but inexorable force had retreated and drawn tight. Cherry House was now encased in a shell that looked as fragile as spun sugar when it glittered brightly with every magical blow from the group of people surrounding it.

Each man wore a cloak so black it seemed to absorb the light around it, turning them into shadows. He’d been one of them and he knew their secrets.

Anger poured through him, cold and biting. The Brotherhood of Mysteries had turned on one of their own. They had attacked innocents, and he would see them all in hell before he let them hurt Katya or any of the creatures she protected.

With a roar of rage, he reached deep inside himself for his strongest magic. Elemental, alchemical, mystical forces that shaped the world and everything in, around, and through it. Every sigil on his skin glowed with the power that ran through him, reaching from the soles of his feet and forcing itself from his fingers to form a bolt of magic he wielded like a sword.

The blood of his forefathers boiled under his skin. Fierce Slavs mixed with equally wild Ostrogoths and Mongols of the Golden Horde made for a heritage of powerful warriors, sorcerers, and leaders. He barreled down on the Brotherhood with all the impetus of a charging army of the steppes.

They scattered as he pushed them aside, intent on getting Katya through the hole he made in their ranks. He would destroy them another day, when she was safe.

Danil felt her small hand on his back, matching his pace as they ran until they shoved through the wards with an audible pop that made his ears ring. On the porch, Mr. Puddles stood and yapped, warning off the men who tried to come into his house.

Katya and Danil took the steps together, then turned back to face the men who had come sneaking through the darkness to attack an innocent woman. Mr. Puddles kept barking, high and sharp. From outside the ward one man lifted his hand and with a grunt, sent a needle-sharp bolt of energy at the little dog.

In a blink, Katya flung out her hand, and the bolt, which Danil knew had been fashioned from the vicious sting of an ice storm and could kill the little dog in one blow, clanged and disintegrated against the shield she wielded like a weapon. The little dog quieted.

Danil took her fingers in his. The power that hummed through the link was blinding, and he began to understand why the promise of marriage had been made. His Katya, who lived a quiet life in her pretty dacha with her animals and her domovoi, had the power to bring down armies. For now, he drew on barely a fraction of her potential to project his voice. The Russian words burned in his throat as he spewed them at the enemy.

“Hear me, Brothers! And it is the last time I will call you that because I will not allow myself to belong to such a group of shameful, craven cowards. If you’re within the sound of my voice, you can never again claim you have honor. You can never again hold up your head and proclaim your virtue, your strength, or your ability to guide anyone along the path of good. In your ignorance, your cruelty, and your alignment with a force of darkness that spawns from the depths of Rus evil, you have chosen to become that evil yourselves. You’re no brothers of mine, and you’re not welcome here.”

Goga slipped out onto the porch and took Katya’s other hand, adding his strange, wild Rus magic, building the link that bound them a little thicker and stronger.

Katya stepped forward, but this time, she didn’t dance. With a voice that echoed with generations of charodeyka before her, she shouted one word.

“Out! Ukhadi!”

The dome around her home, which had seemed so fragile moments before, became solid again, absorbing power from the earth and sky outside, from the water of the wild creek at the edge of the property, and the from the fire in the stove, the beating, flaming heart of Charey Dom. The Enchanted House.

With a boom he felt in his bones, Danil watched as the protective shield around the house swelled and expanded, shoving the hooded Brothers out of its way until they were all left tumbled in the road.

The wards settled into place with a deep thunk, like a heavy lock had been turned. 

Katya’s power calmed, and she took a long, calming breath before letting go of his and Goga’s hands with a final squeeze. She turned to go into the house, and he made to follow when a voice pierced the veil.

“Your words mean nothing. We will return, and we will get what we’ve come for. This house will not stand against us when we come again, no matter who or what is in our way.”

With nothing more than a ripple in the air, they all melted away.

Katya shuddered. “I hate it when people do that.”

Chapter Nine

Katya pushed through the back door and Goga, who had been such a rock, a pillar of strength and calm, reverted to his native Rus dialect and began screeching so quickly, she was grateful she didn’t understand half of what he said. The half she did get made her ears burn.

She went to the freezer and pulled out a bottle of clear liquid and three tiny glasses, all frosted over with the cold. Without a word, she opened the bottle and poured out a measure into each glass.

When they all had their own, she held hers up. There weren’t any words for the jumble in her mind, so she simply said, “Davaitye vuipyem. Let’s drink.”

They knocked back their drinks and slammed the shot glasses onto the counter in unison. The clean burn of the vodka distracted her from her thoughts as she fought through the icy fire.

Goga, still muttering imprecations, took his glass and the bottle, and with a look that put Dirty Harry’s sneer to shame, stomped back behind the stove and disappeared.

Katya put both hands on the counter and leaned hard on them, wanting the slight bruising ache to help anchor her while she thought things through.

They’d almost died. Her animals had almost died, but Danil had been wonderful. Brave, protective, and fierce. He’d been the hero she needed at that moment. But what had happened was much bigger than her fantasies of romantic bogatyr, knights of old, who could buckle a swash with the best of them, before they scooped up the fair maiden onto their warhorse and galloped away.

She couldn’t be the naive girl he’d accused her of being.

“I think it’s past time you told me why you showed up on my doorstep an hour ago after I was hidden from you for a decade.”

Danil eyed his glass like he wished for a refill, then stepped back to the kitchen table to sink down into the chair. “Do you think the tea is still hot?”

“No, and it’s bitter now from steeping too long.”

“Doesn’t matter. I’ll take what I can get.” He poured himself another cup and took a large swallow, grimacing at the taste. “Ever heard of the Brotherhood of Mysteries?”

She shrugged. The bright light of the kitchen cast shadows on his face that made him look tired and older than his thirty-six years. “I guess. I thought they were a story, like the Illuminati. Some secret cult society that’s supposed to control everything from the world banks to the weather.”

“That’s truer than you’d imagine. I am... No.” He winced and corrected himself. “I was a member. A fully indoctrinated brother. Until I did something that proved me a fool.”

His next words were going to change her life. She felt it down deep and braced herself.

“I made a way to talk with the Rus.”

He said it as if he’d shifted the world on its axis. She shook her head.

“And? So?”

“What do you mean, so? I made a way to communicate cross-dimensionally.” His tone said he expected her to be more impressed, but she was tired and cranky and jittery from adrenaline.

“No, I heard you, I just don’t understand why it’s such a big deal. We used the leylines. That’s communicating cross-dimensionally.”

“Sure, if you want to be stuck in the days of the Pony Express. It took years for mundanes to develop electronic methods of talking to each other. Telegram, telephone, email, texting. They’re not done, not by a long shot. Yet the fae world, particularly the Rus fae, remains mired in the Dark Ages.”

“Danil, you know that the Rus dimension doesn’t accept technology well. Electricity doesn’t work there, or at least, not for long.”

He smiled broadly for the first time. It transformed him from a tired, serious scholar into a man who could charm the gold from a dragon’s horde.

“That’s the beauty of the integrated chip I developed.” Using a receipt from Mummy’s and a pencil stub, he started sketching a square with tiny lines running through it as he spoke. “Most ICs use silicon wafers as the base of the chip. Each wafer can be chemically treated to make it more conductive to different electrical properties.”

Katya nodded, although she wasn’t really clear on the tech. It sounded important, though, so she tried to focus.

“When you want to avoid electrical properties, you have to treat the wafer differently. Instead of chemistry, you use alchemy. Ionize sulphur or mercury to dope the silicone, and you get a microchip that can be used in a magical dimension but still maintains enough commonality with the mundane world to connect with electrical signals over here.”

He sounded very pleased with himself.

“Now say it in English. Or Russian. Anything but Geek.”

He chuckled and thought a moment. “The elements I used in the silicon wafer aren’t mundane. They’re alchemical. They’re magical, not bound to the mundane world, so they don’t translate the electrical current the same way. They turn it into something that is completely compatible with the Rus dimension. I’ve already tested it there, and people on the R&D team at Leonov are testing it in other fae worlds.”

Katya leaned back. She got it now. He’d done the impossible, bringing the Rus into the modern age.

“What does the Brotherhood of Mysteries have to do with this?”

“Ah. That’s where it gets complicated.”

“Seriously? That’s where it gets complicated? You showed up unannounced after twenty years, we’re now bound together by some barbaric promise, this stupid Brotherhood virtually flooded my animal shelter – scaring the ever-living crap out of me, by the way – and then they pushed so hard on my wards they nearly broke them. And you think that’s where it gets complicated?”

“I feel like I should offer you something to eat or a cup of tea. It might help you calm down.”

If she killed him now, would she be a widow if she’d never technically been a bride? Goga was right. Dulcie could take care of him in moments. If they never found his body, they’d never be able to pin anything on her.

His eyes widened a little and he leaned back. Apparently, she needed to work on her poker face.

Danil swallowed and started talking. “Right. From the beginning. When I began my studies at MIV, I was completely focused on my project. It was something I’d been building up to since my post-graduate work at Oxford. MIV, because it’s in the Rus, gave me the opportunity to work through my idea. What if we could email, Skype, or even just call our families back in the Rus world? The leylines work, but they take time and a fair amount of power. This chip would be bringing the Rus into the modern era, but without disturbing the forces of magic that keep everything working.”

Katya listened without comment and lifted the cup of cold tea to her lips. Overly sweet, as she’d expected, but still bitter. At least it kept her hands occupied while she followed his story.

“By the time my experimental circuits were becoming more successful, my mentor began dropping hints about an exclusive group he belonged to, men he told me would be interested in my work and could help me along the way.”

He narrowed his eyes at his cup. “I was an arrogant fool, so concerned with my status that I didn’t even think the offer through. I came up with the final prototype and made a few copies. I sent you one. In fact, I sent that to you the moment it was finished. I hadn’t told anyone else – not my mentor, not even my family. That might have been the best decision I ever made.”

“What happened next?”

“Over the next two years, I worked hard to gain access to the inner circle. They had told me the truth. They were very powerful, and they had access to arcane magic, particularly alchemy, that I hadn’t even heard of before.”

He stretched his arms out in front of him and examined the tattoos. “These were my final test. There’s magic here, deep and dark and filled with pain. But so much power. I finished my project a few months later and discovered what they really wanted. My research. All of it. They told me they would be able to use my microchip in a private corporation they owned on the mundane side that was very interested in developing my ideas. Something didn’t feel right. I asked for time to think about it, and on my way out, I overheard something that confirmed my suspicions. That night, I packed everything I could carry and went straight back to Volshev.”

Katya had refreshed the teapot while he spoke and poured for them again. This time, her hands didn’t shake. It seemed that she was getting used to dramatic pronouncements.

“I still don’t understand what they wanted. What did you hear?”

“They were talking about the real ownership of that private corporation. It’s a shell company owned by some very powerful, very evil knaz’ya in the Rus. They were convinced that my technology was the key to giving those knaz’ya, who have been trapped in the fae dimension since the beginning, a way into the mundane world.”

He shuddered and Katya felt clammy goose bumps cover her own skin. “Koschei?”

He nodded. The mad Rus lord, Koschei the Deathless, had nearly made it over here once before, and her friends had barely escaped with their lives.

“It would be madness.”

“Chaos,” he agreed.

“And they’re after me because I have one of your chips?”

“Katya.” He leaned forward and put his hands over hers. “You have the only one left.”

Chapter Ten

Danil followed her up the stairs of the house and then up another set of stairs, much narrower and steeper. The view, he decided, was excellent. He’d really been missing out, dating women with no hips. Watching Katya climb ahead of him was just plain fun.

She opened a narrow door into a wide, dark space. He pulled the firestone out of his pocket and flicked it like a match. Faint, warm light showed him a few boxes and pieces of old furniture lined against the walls, and some papers scattered on the floor under the window.

“Oh,” said Katya, rushing forward to pick them up. “I was up here when the wards went off and Dulcie started barking.”

He knelt to help and realized that the writing on the pages looked familiar. He pulled the sheet closer. It was his handwriting. These were the letters he’d written to her. She was stacking them into a pretty little box with hearts and ribbons on it, and the matryoshka doll he’d sent her was nestled carefully in with the letters.

She’d been reading them when he arrived.

“Katya,” he whispered.

Her face was turned away, but he tucked his finger under her chin and brought her gaze to his. Her eyes were huge and uncertain in the flickering light, and her lips looked soft and sweet.

He tasted.

He was right.

Danil didn’t care that it was some mystical bond making him feel this way. He only cared that the soft, sweet, fierce woman in front of him was responding in the way he’d dreamed about for years. Because the moment he saw her, his heart had recognized her.

He’d never allowed himself to think about her romantically while he was awake. She was off-limits, he’d constantly reminded himself. A child. For most of their acquaintance, she had been. After she’d taken her fate into her own hands and run to Nocturne Falls, he’d been forcefully reminded that, but for a twist of magic and their own independent natures, she could have been his bride.

His dreams reminded him of it almost every night.

Now his dreams were coming true.

Her hands crept up his chest, and he breathed through the anticipation, willing her to wrap them around his shoulders and hold him more tightly. But he was not disappointed when, instead, she folded them around the back of his neck and slid her fingers into his hair.

He moaned and grasped her waist, pulling her closer. Magic zipped through his blood, and he welcomed the bite of it that heightened the sweet taste of Katya on his tongue. More and closer were the two commands that ruled him right now. His hands roamed her slender back and a little lower, and he groaned when he filled his palms with the curves he’d admired on the stairs.

She jumped a little, then pushed back into his hold with a satisfied sound of her own. That magical zap clinched low in his body, and he settled in to do some more exploring. Danil slipped his fingers under her shirt and touched the soft, warm, bare skin above her jeans. He slid his thumbs back and forth over the silky flesh and reminded himself to enjoy the journey.

Her lips clung to his, and she opened willingly under his seeking tongue. A little darkness, a little danger, and a soft woman all made his heart beat loudly, filling his head with its rhythmic beat.

“Gospozha?” Goga’s voice carried through the door, along with an angry screech. “Shh, Arnold. Just a moment. She will open door.”

He groaned, this time in frustration, and pulled his mouth from hers.

When he opened his eyes, Katya was looking at him, her focus dim but sharpening by the moment.

“Danil,” she whispered.

“I don’t think our night’s work is done.” He murmured the words, letting his lips play against her forehead as he hugged her close before releasing her.

Goga knocked and called again, and this time, she was the one who groaned.

They pulled apart and clambered to their feet. Katya patted her hair and framed her cheeks for a moment in a universally feminine gesture, then called out. “What is it, Goga?”

“Dulcie, gospozha. It’s time.”

She gasped.

“Time for what?” Danil asked.

“Her puppies are coming!” She whirled to the door and clattered down the steps, and he mused that every time he followed her, something exciting happened.

He’d expected to find everyone huddled around the giant dog bed he’d seen in the kitchen. Instead, however, they were all in a large, dark bedroom dominated by a colossal bed. It was an antique, intricately carved half-tester, the kind that came with its own canopy extending about a third of the way over the mattress. The heavy curtains that usually came with such beds were gone, replaced by light, white sheets of muslin that Goga was tying back to the headboard.

In the center of the bed on a layer of towels lay the massive hellhound, her head outstretched, her body shuddering, and her long, pink tongue wrapped around Katya’s wrist as her mistress sat and soothed her. Mr. Puddles lay against her head and licked her ear.

“What can I do?” he asked. “How can I help?”

“I know it’s a cliché, but can you boil some water? Bring it up with a large bowl and as many towels as you can find.”

Goga interrupted. “Not the good white ones. I will show you.”

Following Goga was a lot less interesting and a lot more hostile. The domovoi didn’t like him, and until Katya had confronted him about his thoughtless ignorance regarding the house spirits, it had never occurred to him that Goga’s regard should matter, but it did.

“Thank you for helping her, Goga. I know that Dulcie means a lot to her.”

The hairy little guy snorted. “Means so much that you’re going to take her away from us, da? Yes, you love her so much you’ll make her leave the things she’s built. This house, the animal shelter, her friends.”

Goga filled the kettle and a pot, then smacked them onto the stove with a clatter. “Is not so easy for her to make friends, but she did. Good friends. Life here was hard. Gospozha Irina was not good person for young girl. Difficult, stubborn, and made Charey Dom terrible place. Now is clean and nice, and you want to take her away. Back to Volshev.” He sneered. “Back to your family. Your mother.”

The water began to boil, heated by an unhappy magic that circumvented the laws of physics.

“You will make her sad again. Go away. Take your thing and go away.”

“I can’t. We’re bound.”

“Bound by what?”

“A promise. When we were children, we were promised to each other. Katya ran here to get away from it.” Danil shoved his fingers through his hair and tried to explain. “It was good she left when she did. I know you said this was not a good place for her to come, but it would have been much worse for her, for us, if she had stayed. Now the binding has locked us together.”

Goga dug out a stack of large dishtowels from a deep drawer and dropped them into Danil’s arms. Then he leaned in and sniffed him. “We will get more on way back. Also, binding like this can be broken. You go away, it breaks. Everyone is free.”

Danil froze. It wasn’t unbreakable. He could leave her.

The thought hollowed out a cold pit in his chest. He thought of everything he’d learned about his kotik. She’d always said she was shy, and even Goga said she had few friends, but the woman he’d met tonight was like the woman he’d gotten to know in her letters and in his dreams. She was fearless, funny, and fierce in her determination to protect those she loved.

And in his arms, she was liquid gold. Alchemists could keep their elixir of life if Danil could spend the rest of his with Katya by his side.

He couldn’t imagine hurting her by making her leave this place she’d built and the people and animals she loved. Goga was right.

“Yes, I will. As soon as Dulcie’s puppies are here, I’ll take my microchip and leave. The Brotherhood will have no reason to attack if there’s nothing here for them to find.”

The domovoi frowned sharply at him for a moment, then nodded. “Is best you go. Come. We will get more towels and go help. Will be long night.”

Chapter Eleven

As dawn’s light crept through the window with pale golden fingers, Dulcie was nosing at the five little hellhound pups happily nursing away, all strong and healthy.

Katya and Goga had gathered all the dirty linen, and the domovoi took it downstairs to the laundry room to begin the laborious task of trying to make it all clean. Giving birth was a glorious miracle that made a disgusting mess. Magic was great for a lot of things, but it never got the whites white enough for her domovoi.

She took a quick shower that didn’t do nearly enough to revive her after the last many hours, put on clean clothes, and braided her damp hair.

When she returned to the bedroom, she found Danil sitting in the armchair where she’d left him. He was leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, watching the hellhound with an expression of awe.

“I’ve never seen anything like that before,” he said, his voice hoarse and hushed.

“It never gets old. I’ve delivered dozens of litters – dogs, cats, a foal once – but every time is amazing. I’m just glad we didn’t have to call Dr. Theron.” The new vet in town had replaced the kind man who had taught Katya so much before he retired. Medina Theron was actually a faerie. She looked tiny and ethereal, but the woman was tough enough to handle any animal emergency – supernatural or mundane – that Katya had thrown at her. Nothing from car accidents to wyvern scorches to anything in between seemed to faze the rather stern woman who was never seen without her canine companion. But tonight had gone as smoothly as anyone could have hoped for.

Katya took the hand Danil held out to her and accepted happily when he tugged her down to sit on his lap. He wrapped his arms around her and leaned back so she reclined on his chest.

“Sleep. You need the rest.” His hand made hypnotic, soothing circles on her back and she wriggled to a more comfortable position, resting her hand over his heartbeat.

“I’ll crush you.” She gave a token protest. A yawn attacked her and she didn’t even try to fight it off.

His arms tightened around her. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me.”

“I haven’t been a very good hostess, I’m afraid. That was the bed I was going to offer you for the night.”

They looked over at the occupied mattress where Dulcie and her pups were all sleeping the sleep of the just.

“This is better. At least this way, I get to hold you for a while.”

Katya thought she heard a note in his voice that sounded like pain, but she was too tired. Between one breath and the next, she was out.

The next thing she knew, she was in her own bed with a blanket over her feet and the sun a little higher than her usual wake-up time. She lay there for a few moments and let unfiltered memories wash over her.

It was the kiss that stood out most clearly. The binding was a tie neither she nor Danil had wanted, but once it had snapped into place, it seemed so easy to let it take over. His mouth on hers had been a revelation of new sensations, but more than that, it had seemed to awaken things she’d kept hidden for too long.

When she was younger, she’d daydreamed and fantasized about him because he was safe. She’d never have to meet him. Then she had, and all those silly, shallow dreams had fallen away. The truth of Danil Leonov was far better than anything she could have imagined. He was fiercely intelligent and braver than anyone she’d ever met. Plus, he’d learned quickly that she didn’t need him to shield her from danger.

It didn’t hurt to discover that the man was hot. All that aristocratic elegance and nerdy intelligence had been trained on her. Of course, it was nice that he seemed to appreciate the extra curve she had on her tush, if his wandering hands were anything to go by. She grinned and rolled out of bed.

Her first instinct was to call out, but she didn’t want to wake Dulcie if the new mother was still resting. She walked softly through the house, peering into different rooms. The hellhound was licking her pups and hardly spared Katya a glance when she looked in on them. The rest of the house was quiet. When she got to the kitchen, Goga was folding the last load of last night’s towels, which looked as good as new.

“Dobre utrem!” She greeted the domovoi with a smile and a completely fake, casual disinterest in her tone. “Where’s our guest? Also sleeping in somewhere?”

Goga didn’t look up from his task.

The first trickle of doubt slipped through her. “Goga? Where is he?”

“Ushelshyi. Gone. Binding broke. Took his thing and went back to Volshev.”

The trickle became a flood that tried to knock her off her feet.

She was so stupid. The kiss, then Dulcie’s pups, had distracted her into thinking that he’d actually cared about more than getting his microchip back.

Katya peeled her fingers off the back of the chair she’d gripped to hold her upright.

“Oh. Okay.” Her voice sounded thin to her. She cleared her throat.

“You are all right, gospozha?” Goga was still holding the towel, looking at her with concern.

She nodded, but she knew the smile she pasted on her face didn’t look right. It didn’t feel right. “Sure. I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be? I’m, uh, going to the shelter.” She paused. “We should check the wards. Rebuild the ones that didn’t hold up or were damaged. We... we can’t let anyone else in.” Her voice faded away at the end and her throat ached with the tears she refused to shed.

Her volunteers weren’t scheduled to come in for another couple of hours, and her new assistant had the day off, so Katya shoved everything out of her mind but work. She checked on everyone in the barn, and it looked like they’d all survived the night. The dogs had draped themselves anywhere they could and were ecstatic to see her. They pushed an image of Dulcie at her, and she assured them that the hellhound was resting comfortably with her new babies.

The cats were a little less quick to forgive, but again... they were cats. It was what they did. However, as soon as she brought them back into the regular shelter and filled their bowls with fresh food and water, she was quickly forgiven.

The guinea pigs didn’t care one way or the other as long as they got more kibble and hay.

Bubba had stayed through the night, keeping guard. When Katya finished her rounds in the regular shelter, she returned to thank him with two large, fresh Honeycrisp apples – his favorite.

“Lucky you, boy,” she said, rubbing his nose as he crunched one in his strong teeth and drooled apple bits onto her sleeve. “It’s apple season again. You should be pretty happy.”

His unicorn sweetheart, Galatea, nuzzled Katya’s shoulder. As soon as the little horse touched her, the purity of her magic overwhelmed Katya, and she sobbed into the pure white mane until there were no tears left.

As she tapered off into pathetic little gasps, she saw the unicorn’s horn begin to glow from within, a kaleidoscope of colors that filled the barn with rich sensation. Galatea touched the point of it to Katya’s heart and despite the very real danger – a unicorn’s horn could cut through the hardest stone – she simply stood quietly and let it work its magic.

All the bleeding, wounded places inside her – from the homesickness she still felt from leaving Volshev, to the loneliness she’d suffered in Irina’s house, to the brokenness that Danil had left there this morning – began to heal from down in the depths. It was magic, but it wasn’t. Galatea couldn’t wave her horn and make her forget she’d ever been hurt. She couldn’t erase scars, but she could help someone get past the pain enough to start healing.

“Thank you, Galatea. Spasibo.” She kissed the sweet unicorn between her ears and gave her the other apple.

If Danil didn’t want her, he didn’t want her. She’d gotten along just fine without him for years, and she would for many more. With the fresh pain dulled, she couldn’t even be angry at him. The binding simply hadn’t worked.

The binding.

She clutched her chest, searching for the link she’d felt when it had snapped into place only a day ago. It was still there – taut and thrumming and pulled so narrow it was like a tiny needle under her skin. Goga was wrong.

She knew that no matter where she went or how far away he traveled, they would always be able to find each other. No magic, no wards, no shields, no talismans could ever hide one from the other again.

He would either come back, or he wouldn’t. The choice was his. And the freedom to let him make that choice was hers.

Chapter Twelve

Danil couldn’t leave Nocturne Falls.

He’d tried. As the sun was slowly rising, cutting through the gray of dawn, he’d carried Katya to her bed. In her sleep, she’d clung and he’d been far too tempted to stay. He’d gently pried her fingers from his shirt and covered her feet with a blanket because she’d told him in one of her letters that her feet had to be warm to sleep comfortably.

Then he’d gone up to the attic and pulled apart the layers of the matryoshka doll he’d given her until he got to the smallest one. Inside it lay the tiny piece of tech that had changed his life, and now hers.

He put it back inside the doll and slipped the tiny firebird into his pocket.

Goga met him at the door with a brown bag and a travel cup of strong tea. Inside the bag, he saw a sandwich, an apple, and a packet of crackers.

“So you don’t get hungry on your travels.”

Wow. Don’t let the door smack you on the butt on your way out. He couldn’t blame Goga for kicking him out. He’d brought them nothing but trouble and pain.

“Spasibo. I think. I’ll...” No, he wouldn’t see them later. When Katya found out he was gone, she’d never want to see him again. She’d never send him another letter. The tie that bound his heart to hers might be gone, but the scar would remain.

“Take care of her,” he finished. “I never meant to hurt her.”

The domovoi nodded and Danil thought he saw a glimmer of sympathy on his face, but who could tell under all that hair?

He climbed into the car he’d left parked outside under a glamour all night and without turning on the ignition, called upon the dust of the road to push him forward. When he was out of sight of Cherry House, he turned the key and drove.

He got as far as the town square before his heart couldn’t take it anymore.

It was too early for people to be out on the town, so he got out of the car and walked over to a bench by the gargoyle fountain.

The tea was still piping hot, so he sipped it cautiously as he leaned back to study the gargoyle seated in the pose of Rodin’s The Thinker, except with massive wings sprouting from his back.

He contemplated it for a while before he asked, “Don’t you ever wish you could bring a book to read or something?”

Little bits of stone crumbled into the fountain when the gargoyle smiled. Nothing else in his expression moved. “Yeah, sometimes. I could have finished reading my favorite fantasy series by now. Winter is taking its sweet time.”

“Audiobooks, maybe. You could hide the earbuds somehow.”

“Good idea.”

They sat in silence for another minute.

“You new in town? Haven’t seen you before.”

“Not really. Just passing through.”

“You smell of pretty heavy magic. Something I should know?”

Danil hung his head and contemplated the thin swirl of steam that rose from the drinking spout on his cup. “Yeah. She said you were kind of like town security.”

“The title is officially ‘Gargoyle on Duty.’ My shift is over now. Wait here a couple of minutes. I’ll be right back.”

Danil nodded and watched as the platform lowered into the ground with the gargoyle perfectly still on top of it. Within moments, another statue rose, this one of plain stone. During the day, Nocturne Falls regular security was enough, it seemed.

A giant of a man came out of a door hidden in an ivy-covered wall, and though there were no wings in sight, no hint of gray on his skin, he was the gargoyle. A very, very large gargoyle. Danil was rarely made to feel short, but this man managed it.

“I’m Nick Hardwin. What do you need?” He stuck his hand out, and Danil shook it. Nick didn’t bother squeezing in that competitive grip some men had to use to prove themselves. He probably knew that he could crush anyone’s bones to dust.

“Do you know Katya Dostoyevna?”

“Yeah, she runs the animal shelter. Willa likes to donate to it. She was considering getting a kitten, but I don’t think our current cat, Jasper, is going to go for it. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. At least, there shouldn’t be. I’ve made her as safe as I can. There’s a possibility that the group who attacked her last night will be back.”

“She was attacked?” Nick seemed to grow in bulk, his shirt bulging suspiciously as if his wings were trying to break free.

“Her house was, but...”

“Oh, Cherry House. That place’s wards are impeccable. Even Willa had never seen shields like that and she’s a faerie princess.”

Danil’s brow rose. “She’s a what?” There was a good story in there, but he shook his head. “Never mind. Katya’s house was attacked, and because they distracted us, they were able to push the wards hard enough to make a dent.”

Nick whistled silently. “That’s some magic.”

“It’s the Brotherhood of Mysteries.”

“They’re a myth.”

“Said the gargoyle.” Danil fixed him with a straight-on stare.

“Fine.” Nick rolled his eyes but continued. “Let’s say I take your word for it that the Brotherhood of Mysteries attacked an innocent woman’s animal shelter last night. You think they’re going to come back?”

“I worry they might.”

The gargoyle tilted his head a little and appraised Danil, weighing him like a soul on the scale of Ma’at, and finding him wanting. He gestured at the rental car and the travel cup. “Then why aren’t you sticking around?”

“I can’t. I have to get back home.”

Nick nodded nonchalantly at another giant passing them on the street, heading somewhere carrying two large coffee cups in his hand with the words “Hallowed Bean” printed on them. “Ivan.”

“Nick.” The bald man stared at Danil for a moment as he walked past, then paused and retraced his steps. “You look familiar.” His accent was distinctly Russian.

Both of these behemoths towered over him. Danil straightened his spine and shook his head. “I don’t think so. I’m from out of town.”

“From out of town, he says. From Volshev, I say.”

Nick nodded in response. “I bet you’re right.”

“How did you know?”

“I have people there,” replied the Russian. “Friends.”

Danil was willing to make nice for a minute. He shook the big Russian’s hand. “Danil Leonov.”

“Ivan Tsvetkov. So you’re Gavril’s brother who traveled for so long.”

“You know my brother?”

“He’s a fan, and I own stock in Leonov Industries. Why are you in Nocturne Falls?”

“Cherry House was attacked last night, but he’s got his tea, so he’s leaving Katya behind so the Brotherhood of Mysteries can attack her again,” Nick summed up – oh, so helpfully.

Danil was starting to feel like an ant under a magnifying glass. “That’s not... It’s not what it sounds like.”

“Then how is it? You’re here, sneaking out of town early in the morning, leaving a good woman behind, all alone at that crumbling dacha. That’s how it is.”

“Doesn’t sound good, Danil.” Nick shook his head.

Danil opened his mouth to tell them off when they both dropped massive hands on his shoulders, nearly leaving bruises just from the weight.

“You don’t look happy, moy drog.”

“I am not your friend.”

“But you could be. You should be. I’m very friendly guy.” Ivan’s grin was a little too sharp to be amiable. “Anyone who hurts Katya is not my friend.” His hand clenched down, and Danil foresaw a few weeks with a physical therapist to regain full function in that shoulder.

“So why are you really leaving?” Nick asked when Ivan let up.

Danil blinked back the moisture that had somehow accumulated in his eyes. Not because he was crying in pain. “It’s complicated. Really complicated.”

“Good thing I have coffee.” Ivan held one large cup out to Nick. “I will get new one for Monalisa.”

They sat down in the little park like generals planning a war.

By the time they stood up, the battle plan was already in motion.

Chapter Thirteen

The shelter didn’t officially close for another fifteen minutes, but Katya had already sent her volunteers home and decided she could knock off a little early today. She’d earned it. She was turning off the lights in the front area of the shelter and preparing to lock the doors when she heard the car come down the road.

“You have got to be kidding me.” She closed her eyes and bowed her head in frustration. She never minded when animals took their time with stuff because they didn’t live their lives by the clock. The hours for the shelter were clearly listed on the website, for pity’s sake, and it was just rude to show up right before closing time.

She tried to think positive. Maybe this was an opportunity to give one of her animals a forever home. She could put off her pity party until later.

So she dredged up a smile – she’d gotten better at them through the day – and turned to greet the prospective pet owners.

Not pet owners.

She knew, because these were her friends. Daria and Trick rolled up in their car, and Rodion and Carina climbed out of the backseat. Behind them, Ivan, Monalisa, and Nick shared a ride in Ivan’s giant pick up, but she didn’t see Willa.

The last to arrive was the rental car that had been parked outside her house last night.

Danil.

He closed the car door, and, like the first time she’d seen him, she could feel the intensity of his gaze from where she stood. Slowly, as if a steady, martial drumbeat timed his steps, he walked up to her.

Her heart cracked with every step. The bond that tied them together pulled and tore at the recklessly beating organ, ripping open the wounds that Galatea had barely begun to heal. By the time he stood in front of her, she couldn’t stop the tears that streamed down her face.

She was unprepared to see tears on his cheeks, as well. “Moy kotik.”

“I’m not your kitten, Danil. You left me.” The hole in her chest was filled with pain and fire. He reached out to touch her, but she flinched from the pain she knew it would bring. The devastation on his face from her reaction brought its own agony.

“I was wrong to walk away. It has nothing to do with the binding or the microchip or the stupid Brotherhood or anything else. If I didn’t already have you in my heart, none of it would matter. Katya, I didn’t realize it would hurt so much.” His voice roughened and he breathed for a moment before he continued. “If I hurt you even half that much, I will never forgive myself.”

Katya wanted to hold onto her anger, her pain. They were better than the hollowness she’d felt when she realized he was gone. She and Danil had only been in each other’s company for a day, but she’d known him for years, and as much as she resisted admitting it, she’d loved him for years.

But this... this was quality groveling.

Dulcie and Mr. Puddles appeared at her side, and Katya decided the pups must be somewhere very safe for her to leave them so soon. Arnold trotted along behind her, and Galatea and Bubba walked over from the barn.

They all stared at Danil. Then, very slowly, Galatea lowered her horn until the point touched his chest, exactly the way she’d touched Katya this morning. Danil shuddered as light shifted and billowed inside the translucent spiral for long moments until, finally, she lifted her head.

Danil wobbled, and Katya reached out to steady him.

“Wow. That was... wow.” His dark eyes were huge and confused, but the tears had stopped.

Witnessing the magic, she felt the relief of his healing as much as he did. “Yes, it was.”

“She did that to you, too?”

Katya nodded her head.

“Because I hurt you so badly.”

She nodded again.

“kotik, I’m so sorry. I will never walk away from you again, I swear it.” As he spoke, sparks of magic glimmered under his skin, lighting up the markings on his arms and spreading over his body, visible under his T-shirt, climbing up his neck. She hadn’t realized how far the markings extended, but he was completely covered in them. At his promise, they all came to life.

This time, when he opened his arms, she rushed into them and clung to his broad shoulders. She was never letting go. No matter what.

Dulcie woofed.

“No, you can’t eat him. He’s ours now.”

She licked him anyway, getting a taste, then whined and sat down. Mr. Puddles sat in front of her giant paws and wagged his tail. Arnold came up to him and sniffed his jeans, then turned around and sprayed him.

“What the...”

Katya sniffled. “Oh, that’s so sweet! Arnold only sprays people he likes.”

“What does he do if he doesn’t like you?”

“He sets your shoes on fire.”

Bubba had dropped his head over Galatea’s neck, but the look in his eye made her think he wasn’t going to forgive Danil quite so easily. Katya sighed. Oh well. Her man could handle getting a little wet.

“All better now?” Daria and Trick walked up to them, pausing to give Bubba a scratch under his chin.

She nodded. “How did you know?” she asked her friend.

“I didn’t until Trick told me. I wanted to rush over here and hug you, then hunt this guy down and feed him to the catfish.” The rusalka with the magical voice glared at Danil. “They made me wait.”

“How did Trick know? What are you all doing here, anyway?”

Danil’s hand slid to hers and they twined their fingers together. The little smile on his face was just for her, and she smiled back.

Rodion walked up with his arm slung over Carina’s shoulders and dropped a kiss onto Katya’s cheek. “We heard there was trouble from this Brotherhood of Mysteries, so we came to help.”

“But they’re gone.” She looked up at Danil. “Right?”

“I don’t think so, kotik. I still have the chip, and that’s what they’re after.”

“Once again, I’d like someone to tell me in a logical, chronological progression how everyone knows about this.”

Ivan enveloped her in one of his massive hugs, careful of his strength. “I will tell story. This sorry koldun ends up at fountain in square and starts pouring out broken heart to Nick. I’m walking past with Monalisa’s coffee, and I recognize him. I know his brother in Volshev. So we hear about Brotherhood of Mysteries and begin to strategize. Like chess. We pull in rooks and bishops and knights to help us figure out plan to defeat enemy.” He nodded to the rest of the crowd. “Now we are here.”

Katya’s eyes had widened during the telling, but when it was over, she nodded. “Okay. I get it. Thank you for telling me, Ivan.” She peered at Danil. “See? That’s how you tell someone that they’re going into battle.”

He pulled her close and dropped a kiss onto the purple bandana she had tied around her head, keeping her braid out of the way. “I’ll take lessons.”

Chapter Fourteen

After that, it was controlled chaos at Cherry House. Danil had just met these people, yet they were all willing to fight and bleed for his Katya.

My Katya. They hadn’t needed the binding. All those years of writing back and forth, sharing their lives with each other, their successes and triumphs, and even their failures and losses, had formed a bond stronger than magic.

All they had to do now was live through the night.

The crew spent the last few hours setting up defenses around the property. Danil logged into the back end of the home security app he’d designed and added more alerts.

Carina, one of Katya’s close friends, was a Norse soothsayer and also a talented ward-maker. She had opened up what looked like a craft store on a table in the library, where she was teaching Monalisa Devlin, Ivan’s fiery-haired, will-o’-the’wisp girlfriend, and Daria to make talismans. Willa was apparently out of town, visiting her family.

Danil took the talismans and buried them at various points around the house and shelters. Then he hooked them up to his app so they would send an alert when they were breached. Most of them were just sensors, but some could be triggered remotely. Carina had thrown small, but nasty illusion spells into a few, which would trap the intruder in a nightmare loop until they were released.

It was a stroke of genius, and it made him wonder what lurked under the pretty blonde’s sweet smile.

While his hands were busy doing his tech-nerd thing, he went back over the plan in his head.

Nick would hold the line all along the front of the property. The gargoyle was pretty much indestructible, but this was the Brotherhood, a group of gifted sorcerers and alchemists. He worried but trusted the big man to take care of himself.

Rodion Czernovitch, Daria’s brother, had been a Border Crossing Patrol officer in Volshev. He was preparing to hold the house with Trick, a former Army Ranger, at his side. Daria would be there as well. She might look small and fragile, but Danil knew that no one messed with a rusalka or her loved ones.

Carina, Goga, and Monalisa were not warriors, but they could shore up wards and defenses and trigger some of the traps they’d set from inside the house. Danil had cobbled together as many screens as possible so they’d be able to keep watch and communicate with everyone outside.

And gods help any of the Brotherhood who made it into the house, because Dulcie was upstairs with her pups. Those unlucky Brothers would find themselves in pieces at the gates of hell before they could do more than scream.

Ivan was their last line of defense. Their ace in the hole. The former MMA fighter was stunningly powerful in his human form, but as a supernatural, he shifted into a dragon. If worse came to worse, they’d be calling for him to transform. Danil hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

He and Katya would be defending the shelters – the weakest spot in the shield that couldn’t be fixed. His upbringing suggested that he should prevent her from standing with him, that he should be the protector. But Danil wasn’t a stupid man. He wasn’t about to stand between his woman and those she loved.

He looked out the back door and watched his cute Russian witch march purposefully from the shelter to the barn, having an animated discussion with a large orange cat.

“You are man in love.” Ivan’s heavy hand dropped onto his shoulder again, right on the sore spot he’d left that morning. Danil sucked back the hiss of pain that wanted to escape.

“I don’t know, really.”

“Only man in love comes back and apologizes for hurting his woman. And only man in love would come back, knowing that the Brotherhood was returning to finish their job.”

He might as well admit it. “Then I must be a man in love.” He chuckled. It felt good. He said it again. “I’m a man in love. I love her.”

Ivan’s face creased in a huge smile. “It’s the best thing that ever happened to me. Don’t be stupid again.”

“I’m sure I will be, but not like that. I do try not to make the same mistake twice.”

The bald man’s laugh boomed out, and Danil smiled when he saw a flame flicker in his eyes.

The Brotherhood had no idea what they had started.

He did his final check, then went over to the barn, where he found his kotik on her knees, wearing a welder’s helmet and stroking a one-eyed basilisk while she fed it defrosted dead rats from a pail. After every chomp, it would push up against her hand, asking for harder rubs.

“Don’t look! It takes forever for the anti-basilisk potion to work, and we don’t have time to unfreeze you.”

He immediately spun around. While he waited for her to re-seal the basilisk habitat, he crouched down to dangle his fingers in front of the large cat he’d seen turn into smoke in Katya’s kitchen the night before. It slitted its eyes and reached out to sniff, then gave him a brief lick.

The hand that landed on his shoulder this time was soft and warm.

“You washed your hands, right?”

She laughed. “Yes. No leftover rat and no basilisk venom.”

He pulled her fingers over to his lips and kissed them before he stood and turned back to her. “Good. I’d hate to have to unfreeze you, although I do know a quicker way to heal someone from a basilisk’s stare.”

“Really?” Katya curled her fingers up his neck, and her eyes went soft and sultry. “You’ll have to tell me all about it. Someday.”

Pulling her up off her feet with a hand under her hips, he carried her over to the nearest wall, the one with the tapestry on it, and let her slide down his body slowly.

“I missed you,” he murmured, feeling the truth of it on his tongue.

“You were only gone for a few hours.”

“I missed everything about you. The idea of you, the future of you, the taste of you. I was an idiot to leave.” He slid his lips over her face and sipped at the corner of her mouth.

“Yes, you were. And it was only one kiss.” Her fingers tightened in his hair, and her body curved up to fit his.

“It was more than that.” He drew back far enough to get lost into her blue eyes. A shudder ran through her and he felt every inch of it.

“It was.”

“Do you forgive me, Katya?”

She drew in a short breath, then tilted her head. She gave him a crooked little smile, and looked up at him from under her lashes. His playful kotik. “That depends.”

“On what?”

“On whether you’re going to kiss me again.”

Sometime later, his earpiece crackled to life with Carina’s voice. “I see movement on the edges. I think it’s time.”

Danil lifted his head from the pillow of... kibble. He’d been laying on a bag of dog kibble. He stretched and his neck popped in relief as the warm and wonderful woman next to him stirred from her place, her head on his shoulder and her legs twined with his.

Katya sat up and he watched as she rearranged some vital items of clothing and tried to smooth down her hair. He smirked. He didn’t mind her rumpled look. It reminded him of how much fun they’d had.

Finally, she turned back to him, heat still lingering in her eyes. He smoothed his thumb over her swollen lips and fixed her shirt collar. “Ready?” he asked.

Chapter Fifteen

The battle raged around Katya as she stepped back for a second to catch her breath. The moment dusk had turned to dark, the Brotherhood had attacked. It had taken time for them to plow through the first layer of protection, and she and her friends had stayed inside, out of sight, and watched them come.

If any mundane human had chanced to come down the lane, they’d have seen nothing but a crumbling old house and an empty yard. The shields she and Goga had added would hide any activity that went on at Charey Dom.

The moment the first Brother stepped over the line, Nick was there. After that, there was nothing but the fight. The Brotherhood widened the hole they’d made and though the gargoyle tried to keep up with them all, a dozen men ran past him. Some aimed for the house, but some went straight for the shelter.

She and Danil waited just inside the glamour protecting the barn. Behind them, Bubba and Galatea stepped and shifted, along with wild Japanese spirit cats, a green Spanish weasel, the firebird preening her flaming plumage, and half a dozen other creatures, including the basilisk with its one good eye.

She had left Mr. Puddles in the guest room at the house where Dulcie guarded her pups. The sweet old terrier would get hurt if he got in the way.

They waited until the men were mere yards away from the shelter before they burst from the glamour in one glorious, wild, shrieking, hooting, hissing, yowling mob of madness.

The green weasel, a ramidreju from Catalán named Nedo, slipped out in front of them and ran, climbing up trouser legs, biting and tearing. The men fell, and once they were down, the basilisk ran out, his legs splayed awkwardly but surprisingly fast for his size, and froze them with his glance.

Lulu and the other large-breed dogs had been let out of their cages and worked together like a cunning wolf pack to get to the Brothers who endangered their home.

Bubba had picked up at least three men who were entrapped by his coat and was dragging them through the pasture, over every rock and bump he could find. Two were out cold, but the last one was still yelling.

Galatea stood in front of the entrance to the shelter with her head down, horn forward. Not a man among their enemies had the courage to go up against an angry unicorn who could be nearly as bloodthirsty and dangerous as a dragon when pushed to her limits.

“No one told us there’d be unicorns and basilisks. Brother Lazar said it was just Danil and his woman. I’m not dying for this.”

They backed away toward the shield but hit one of Carina’s traps. They screamed until they were hoarse, but they didn’t move.

There was no retreating from this field of battle.

The shelter was safe now, its inhabitants, mundane and supernatural, all protected. The fighting was closer to Charey Dom now, and she ran to catch up with Danil.

“The house is under attack.” In his hands was a short curved sabre. Streaks of blood covered the blade. “Is everyone safe here?”

His shirt was ripped in the places where red stained the white fabric, and there was a knot next to his bloodshot left eye that was purple and swollen, but he wasn’t limping and seemed to be breathing just fine. Still, she needed to ask. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. This is nothing. Did anyone hurt you?”

“Certainly not. Everyone’s okay. I don’t think they were prepared for Arnold burning their shoes.”

“Good old Arnold,” he said. He grabbed her hand and raised it to his lips while they ran. “Arnold’s the best.”

There was no more time for words. They followed the noise into the house.

Her beautiful home.

Goga was hiding behind the iron stove shrieking at a man who continually shot bolts of lightning at him. He deflected each blow with a cast iron skillet that was starting to smoke.

Nick was in human form inside the house, but he, Rodion, and Trick made a tight band of fighters. The gargoyle and the country singer had been in the same Ranger unit, and Rodion had the same type of training. Rodion also carried a shashka, the same type of sword that Danil had been using, that was standard issue for the Border Crossing Patrol. He swung the blade in elegant arcs that fended off the attackers around him.

She couldn’t see Carina or Monalisa, but she head a sharp yell from the library and then a feminine, “Ha! That showed him!” They were doing just fine.

Katya grabbed the brush end of a snapped broomstick that had been discarded in front of her and whacked a man who stumbled back from one of Nick’s stone-handed blows. Her smack spun him right into Danil’s fist, and he dropped to the floor.

And... that was it.

No more yelling or screaming or throwing curses. It was even silent outside.

Katya’s friends all looked at each other and started to smile when a single note reverberated through the house.

Deep and dangerous, it built to a crescendo that continued without pause.

“It’s upstairs,” she said, and they all went to look.

One man had apparently crept through a window on the second floor and, thinking that all the action was happening downstairs, did not realize he had walked into a bedroom where a hellhound nursed her pups.

He was frozen halfway through the room.

Dulcie stalked him from the shadows.

“Danil,” he whispered. “Help me.”

Katya had always known Danil had a slightly twisted sense of humor, so she snickered when he stepped just inside the room and whispered back, “Why?”

“She’s going to kill me, you fool!”

“Probably, yes.”

The man’s voice strengthened. “I am your Brother in the Mysteries. You must help me.”

Danil, however, leaned against the doorjamb and looked him up and down before turning to Katya. “What do you think, moy kotik? Must we help him?”

She, too, studied the man. He was perfectly ordinary, moderately handsome, although getting a little heavy at the waist and jowly at the chin. “The only thing we must do is make sure he doesn’t leave a stain on the carpet. Goga just cleaned them and he’ll fuss if they get dirty.”

Danil shrugged. “You heard her. It’s her house, her rules. Dulcie, don’t make a mess.”

The hound’s ruff grew even larger, sending an ember-ridden puff of smoke into the air. She snapped her jaw with a clap like eternal damnation, then her lips stretched in a doggie grin that exposed even more of her dripping fangs. With her eyes aglow, she scraped one paw against the floor, and it left behind a phosphorescent trail of green fire and the scent of sulfur.

She crouched.

He screamed.

Mr. Puddles barked.

The man tripped over his own feet and knocked himself out when he hit the floor.

Dulcie walked over to his prone form and leaned down to sniff at him. She sneezed in his face and left, jumping back onto the bed with her puppies.

Mr. Puddles, who had been guarding the babies, trotted over to Katya, tail wagging extravagantly, and looked up at her.

“Who’s my good boy? You are! Yes, you are, Mr. Puddles! Want a treat?”

The old terrier went into ecstasies, and she scooped him and carried him down to the kitchen, where she stuck a spoon into a jar of peanut butter and let the little dog lick until his tongue was tired.

The rest of the crew brought the man downstairs. After Mr. Puddles was done with his treat, she carried him outside and called to the animals, magical and mundane, wandering randomly in the yard, playing, sniffing, and... “You had better not be digging holes in my roses, Lulu!”

The brawny dog jumped away from her illicit activity then sat down facing the other way, as if she had nothing to do with the scattering of dirt all over the grass.

“Y’all go back to bed now, ok? I’ll come by shortly to lock up. You were all amazing and I love you.” She sent them all wave after wave of affection, love, and reassurance, and they all got up and trotted back to the shelter and the barn. Except one.

She peered up at her roof and went back into the house.

Everyone was gathered around the man who sat in a trance at the kitchen table.

Monalisa had her hand on his, but he didn’t seem to notice.

“You’ve done terrible things, Lazar Popov, but you’re not going to do them anymore. The Brotherhood of Mysteries is going to quietly disband. You’re going to take up golf. And... stamp collecting.”

He nodded blankly.

“Are you married, Mr. Popov?”

He nodded again.

“Do you love your wife?”

He shrugged. Monalisa shook her head.

“You’re going to start treating her like you did when you first started going out. You’re going to take her out dancing, buy her flowers and candy, romance her. You’re going to fall in love with her all over again. That should take up a lot of your time.”

“When he’s not collecting stamps, you mean?”

Daria shushed her husband, who was looking highly amused.

“Are you done yet?” Katya asked. “Because if you’re not, I have something for him to do.”

They all trooped outside. Ivan grasped the man’s shoulders in his great, clawed talons, and lifted him up, the downdraft from his wings causing the cherry trees to creak and sway. The dragon popped him onto the roof where Lazar sidled up to the firebird, who was busily making a nest in one of the gables, and flapped his arms at her.

She pecked at him and flared up, but he just kept flapping. They danced on that roof for a good five minutes, and Katya had to sit down because she was laughing so hard. Finally, the beautiful bird with the terrible taste in nesting places flew down and stalked back to her barn, where a perfectly nice nest already awaited her.

Ivan brought Lazar down again and sent him over to stand with the rest of the bedraggled Brotherhood of Mysteries, now defunct.

Danil addressed them again, but the rage of last night was gone, leaving only great disappointment.

“We all suffered to become part of this organization. We tried. We worked hard to join, but when we did, we discovered that there was no honor in it. You could have left, but you chose to stay. And now your cowardice comes to bite and snap at you. I told you last night never to come back, but you didn’t listen. Listen now. If I ever see one of you again – here in Nocturne Falls, back in Volshev, in the mundane world or in the Rus – you had better turn around and head the other direction. Because while you had a Brotherhood that would sacrifice you in a heartbeat for the possibility of more power, I have this.”

He gestured around him, and Ivan stood on his back claws and spread his terrible wings. The men cringed.

“Do you understand?”

The all nodded, and he thundered at them one last time. “Then leave!”

Lemmings jumping over a cliff had more grace but less determination than the group of men who piled into vehicles and took off down the road, wheels spinning, tires slipping, and dust flying.

Chapter Sixteen

Danil wrapped his arm around Katya’s waist and drew her close so he could bury his nose in her hair.

“I’m hungry.”

“Hi Hungry, I’m Katya.”

The whole crew groaned at the dad joke, then broke into laughter.

“Let’s go see if Goga can feed us.”

An hour later, they were sitting down to a groaning board of food. There wasn’t an inch of the table that wasn’t covered with roasted meats, cabbage rolls called golubtsy, traditional borscht with beautiful clouds of sour cream floating in the bowls, potato salad, meaty dumplings, a beef stew called zharkoye, and for dessert, blini on one end of the table and chak-chak on the other. Fresh pots of tea flowed, along with bottles of fruity wine and vodka chilled from the freezer.

The domovoi outdid himself and came out from behind the stove to join the rest of them at the table, where time flew in a flurry of conversation and plate passing. Goga watched with wide eyes as Nick and Ivan seemed to be competing with each other to see which one could put away more food.

Finally, they all pushed back from the table and, with many hugs and enthusiastic cheek kisses, everyone climbed wearily back into their cars and went home.

Arnold raised his head from the seat of an enormous leather chair he had claimed in the library and yawned, his hawk bill stretching wide. Mr. Puddles was already back upstairs with Dulcie. Katya had brought a special plate of delicacies to the hellhound for her role in the battle. The rest of the valiant four-legged and be-winged troops had also been given a hearty dinner and treats before going to their beds.

Now, it was just Katya and Danil, both so tired they were propping each other up as they made their way up the stairs.

At her door, they paused.

“I can find a couch to sleep on,” he said, knowing he couldn’t assume anything, despite what had happened in the barn a few hours – a lifetime – ago.

She smiled softly at him and tugged on his hand, pulling him into the dark room with her.

“None of my couches will fit you,” she said, leading him to the bathroom, where she opened the shower door and turned on the water with her free hand.

“I think the one in the front room might...”

“Nope. Won’t fit. And if you try, I’ll burn it.” She pulled at his ragged T-shirt and hissed at all the small cuts and bruises that he couldn’t even feel individually anymore. They all just flowed, one into the next, until he was a giant mass of aching exhaustion.

Nonetheless, enough life returned to his tired body to make the shower an exercise in getting clean, then getting sweaty again, and then getting clean again.

His kotik was exhausted and still asleep when the sun rose the next morning.

He crept out of bed and gratefully accepted the strong tea that was waiting on the stove for him. He grabbed a couple of apples from the fruit bowl and carried it all with him as he walked over to the field behind the barn where Bubba and Galatea were already outside cropping grass.

“Heck of a night, Bubba.”

The black horse snorted and nosed at the pocket where the fruit was hidden. “Yeah, yeah. She told me all about your addiction.” He held out the apples to the two of them, and they disappeared in a second.

He breathed deeply of the morning air, smelling the grass, the dampness from the creek, and the warm, sleepy bodies of the animals. It was the unfamiliar thing he had craved all his life, in all his travels.

“Smells like home, Bubba. I guess we’re all part of your herd now.”

Author Bio:

Sela Carsen was born into a traveling family, then married a military man to continue her wandering lifestyle. With her husband of 20 years, their two teens, her mother, the dogs, and the cat, she’s finally (temporarily) settled in the Midwest. Between bouts of packing and unpacking, she writes paranormal and sci-fi romances, with or without dead bodies. Your pick.

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Smart, Sultry, Supernatural Romance

Other books available:

Nocturne Falls Universe

Magic’s Song

Magic’s Fate

Magic’s Promise

Wolves of Fenrir series: Sci-Fi Shifter Romance with a healthy dose of Vikings

A Wolf to Watch Over Me (free)

A Most Wanted Wolf

Silver Wolf Rising

The Wolf Who Came In From the Cold

The Wolves of Fenrir Box Set (contains all four stories)

Legends and Lore series: Stand alone Fantasy Romance with mythology and folklore

The Sleeper Dreamed: A Short Story (free)

Runespell

Not Quite Dead

Heart of the Sea

Carolina Wolf series: Paranormal wolf shifter sexy fun times

Carolina Wolf

Carolina Pearl

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