‘‘There are a lot of strangers in the woods these days,’’ Adrik said.
Zorana shook the loaves out of their pans and placed them on the cooling racks.
Jasha leaped up, grabbed one, and seated himself again. ‘‘They’re not campers, either.’’
‘‘It’s too cold for that.’’ Jackson Sonnet was short and bluff, a sportsman, an outdoorsman, and a hotelier with a sharp sense of what people would and would not do for fun.
According to him, camping in the winter was not a popular activity.
Rurik got up and got the butter out of the refrigerator. ‘‘Pass me a piece of bread.’’
‘‘Hey, Mama made that for me!’’ Adrik said.
‘‘She’s done welcoming you home, you big oaf.’’ Jasha tore the loaf, releasing a burst of steam and revealing the pale, textured interior. ‘‘She’s as sick of you as the rest of us are.’’
Adrik smacked him on the back of the head.
Jasha smacked back, and lost the loaf to Rurik’s swift sneak attack. ‘‘Hey!’’
Rurik grimaced as the brown crust burned his hand. He tossed the loaf from side to side as he tore it into smaller pieces. Placing one on a plate, he handed the rest to his father. ‘‘So, Papa, the Varinskis have begun to gather for battle. But there are others, too, men who watch us—and them.’’
‘‘Maybe the Varinskis have servants.’’ Konstantine sat in his wheelchair, his oxygen tank hooked to the back. Occasionally he put the mask to his face and took a long breath. He might be weak, but he was in his element.
‘‘Or figured you were so helpless they could hire someone to wipe you out,’’ Jackson said.
The Wilder men exchanged incredulous glances, and unanimously declared, ‘‘Naw.’’
‘‘If you say so.’’ Jackson took some bread, slathered it with butter, bit into it, and, with his mouth open, said, ‘‘Great, Zorana. Really great.’’
The women—Zorana, Ann, Tasya, and Karen— leaned against the kitchen wall, watching the men as the loaf disappeared at record speed.
‘‘It’s like feeding wild animals,’’ Ann murmured to the other women. ‘‘We throw in the food. They snarl at one another, rip it apart, snarf it down, and go back to their plans.’’
‘‘Not that Rurik’s ever really been domesticated, but I’ve never seen him act so much like a caveman.’’ Tasya made her voice deep and menacing. ‘‘ ‘Fix me some food. Give me some sex. And for God’s sake, woman, whatever you do, don’t talk.’ ’’
Zorana considered her beloved grandson, seated in his high chair beside Konstantine, gnawing on a crust and chattering away with his uncles and grandfather. ‘‘Aleksandr is just like them.’’
‘‘Firebird left at exactly the right time.’’ Tasya grasped Zorana’s arm. ‘‘I didn’t mean to worry you.’’
‘‘It’s all right. She’s a smart girl. I know she’s safe.’’ Zorana had to believe that was true. ‘‘But you’re right. She won’t be sorry she missed this. I tell you, it’s genetic. They’re having the time of their lives. Listen to them.’’
‘‘There are always bikers and trekkers in the woods,’’ Rurik said. ‘‘So land mines are out.’’
‘‘No good explosions.’’ Adrik shook his head in sorrow.
‘‘The old-fashioned way will work. Traps. Surprises. You’ll see. They won’t know what hit them.’’ Konstantine grinned like a boy who had been given a present.
‘‘You guys have come up with good ideas. I’m not saying you haven’t, and I know the Varinskis can’t be killed except by another demon, but what you need is more good weaponry.’’ Jackson leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with excitement and pleasure. Karen’s father was not like Konstantine or her sons; Jackson did not seem to hold women in esteem, he did not like Aleksandr or apparently any children, he shied from Zorana’s displays of affection, and his greatest loves were hunting, fishing, and camping. Yet he had shown his true mettle when he had fought a team of marauding Varinskis for his daughter’s life. He was a man’s man, a human Varinski, as it were, useless in family situations, but good to have at your back, and Zorana was grateful to have him. ‘‘Enough shots from an M16 rifle will take a leg off, and a one-legged Varinski would find it hard to chase down even you, Konstantine. I’ve got the money and the contacts to get weapons fast.’’
‘‘All right. Some firepower would be helpful. But I will not wait for you to return to start the battle,’’ Konstantine said.
‘‘Trust me, Konstantine.’’ Jackson rested his hand on Konstantine’s shoulder. ‘‘I’ll leave later today, and I’ll be back before it’s over. I wouldn’t miss this battle for the world!’’
‘‘How can you talk about war with such delight?’’ Ann was the most engaging of the Wilder daughters-in-law, one of the kindest people Zorana had ever met, and she was frankly concerned about this display of male ferocity.
The men exchanged confused glances.
‘‘We didn’t seek this fight, but as long as it’s inevitable, we might as well enjoy it,’’ Jackson said.
Tasya grasped Zorana’s arm and shook it. ‘‘He’s not even one of the family, and he thinks like them.’’
Still Ann struggled to bring the men to their senses. ‘‘What about afterward? There’s a very real possibility that some of us—some of you—will die, leaving the ones who remain behind to grieve.’’
‘‘That’s what happens in war,’’ Konstantine said simply.
‘‘When it’s over, we’ll all have to try to pick up the pieces of our lives.’’ The mere idea of violence brought tears to Ann’s blue eyes.
‘‘We understand that, darling,’’ Jasha said patiently. ‘‘But we didn’t seek this fight, and as long as it’s inevitable, we might as well enjoy it.’’
‘‘That is exactly what Mr. Sonnet said,’’ Zorana said.
‘‘Well . . . yes. When you’re right, you’re right.’’ Jasha high-fived Jackson.
The men laughed.
In a flash, Ann’s tears dried, and her eyes flashed with temper. ‘‘Jasha Wilder, when this is over, if you’re not dead, I’m going to make you wish you were.’’
Jasha’s mouth dropped open, as if he couldn’t fathom such a display of ill will from his wife. ‘‘Now, honey . . .’’
‘‘Come on, girls.’’ Tasya touched Zorana on the shoulder. ‘‘Let’s take a walk. We’re all going crazy with worry.’’
Jasha shook his head. ‘‘You can’t go for a walk.’’
Ann turned on him. ‘‘Why not?’’
With exaggerated patience, Jasha said, ‘‘Because there are strangers in the woods.’’
Zorana found her open hand raised toward her son.
Ann caught her before she could make contact.
Karen, who up until this moment had been silent, now spoke in a clear, slow, loud voice. ‘‘Listen, men. We women need to get out of the house. We need to get out now.’’
All the men, even Aleksandr, looked up in surprise.
Adrik leaped to his feet. ‘‘Of course. I’ll take you.’’
‘‘Pussy-whipped,’’ Rurik stage-whispered.
Adrik ignored his brother. ‘‘Where do you women want to go? The mall?’’
The women scowled at him, at the other men who sat there nodding as if his suggestion made sense.
‘‘What in the hell are we going to do at the mall? Buy a sweater?’’ Tasya ripped at her already short dark hair. ‘‘You guys are such—’’
Karen put her hand on Tasya’s arm.
Tasya turned away. ‘‘Dorks,’’ she muttered.
Rurik shoved the bench back. ‘‘Maybe you’d like to go to a movie? I hear A Hero’s Guide to Enchantment is playing in town at the old theater.’’
‘‘Chick flick,’’ Jackson said out of the corner of his mouth.
‘‘That’s the idea,’’ Konstantine replied out of the corner of his mouth. ‘‘They’ll come back all soft and weepy, and they’ll fix us dinner, the
n watch one of those home-decorating shows. Afterward—’’
‘‘You do realize we can hear you, right?’’ Tasya asked.
The guys all gestured like, So?
‘‘I want to talk. Just us women.’’ Ann’s voice rose with each word. ‘‘Is there anyplace we can go where we can have some privacy?’’
‘‘You’re probably tired of cooking for us,’’ Jasha said. ‘‘Maybe we could all get in the van and drive down and have dinner out?’’
‘‘Can we go to Taco Time?’’ Adrik asked eagerly. ‘‘I haven’t been to Taco Time since I ran away.’’
‘‘Right. Four grown men, a little boy, one small house, and an unlimited amount of refried beans.’’ Tasya’s voice was dripping with sarcasm. ‘‘I don’t think so.’’
Zorana didn’t think so, either. ‘‘We’ll make it easy on you. We won’t even leave the valley. Instead, we’ll go out to the horse barn. We’ll take a bottle of wine and some bread and cheese. Aleksandr can play in the straw. We women can talk intelligently without interruption from men who regularly turn into beasts.’’ Dimly, she realized her voice was rising, too.
The guys stared with furrowed brows.
Karen spoke again, slowly and clearly. ‘‘We want to go out to the horse barn. Without you men. Is it safe?’’
‘‘Of course it is. That’s where we’re storing all our munitions and—’’ Rurik brought himself up short. ‘‘Before you go out, we’ll scope out the barn and the surrounding area.’’
‘‘Then that . . . is where . . . we will go.’’ Karen turned to the other women. ‘‘When you talk to them, if you want them to comprehend, use little words and speak very . . . slowly.’’
Into the silence that followed, Aleksandr announced clearly, ‘‘Humping like bunnies.’’
Konstantine laughed.
Aleksandr laughed, too, a little boy’s crow of delight, and repeated, ‘‘Humping like bunnies.’’
‘‘Where did he learn that?’’ Ann wondered.
When Zorana glared at Konstantine, he changed his laughter to a cough.
Tasya and Ann packed the picnic basket with the other loaf of bread, good cheese, and a fine Wilder zinfandel. Karen fetched an afghan off the couch and some throws out of the cedar chest in the living room.
Rurik and Jasha headed outside to inspect the horse barn and the perimeter.
As Zorana swept her grandson out of his high chair and wrapped him in a blanket, Konstantine objected. ‘‘Don’t coddle the boy.’’
‘‘Don’t worry that they’re going to turn him into a sissy, Papa.’’ Adrik gathered up their rain gear. ‘‘Aleksandr is already a warrior. Nothing these women do can change that.’’
Karen lost her temper at last. ‘‘Adrik, I only have one nerve left, and you’re standing on it.’’
Adrik brought a jacket and helped her into it, then took her arm. ‘‘I love you, sweetheart. Now . . . you’re much better, but you’re limping still, and I know those ribs are giving you pain. Let me help you to the barn.’’
She resisted for a moment, then leaned against him.
‘‘Everybody take your cell phone,’’ Adrik called, ‘‘so you can call if there’s trouble.’’
‘‘I’m so glad you told me, O wise one. With you around, I never have to worry my pretty little head.’’ Karen pulled her cell from her pocket and showed him.
‘‘Grumpy is her favorite dwarf,’’ Adrik explained to his father.
‘‘I’ve got the diaper bag.’’ Tasya lifted it off the counter and checked the contents. ‘‘Are we ready?’’
‘‘Gramma.’’ Aleksandr took Zorana’s face and turned it toward him. With that toothy grin that always melted her heart, he asked, ‘‘Aleksandr want to play with your treasures.’’
‘‘What do you say?’’ Zorana asked.
‘‘Please.’’ He dragged out the word, getting louder and louder, until she agreed.
Ann went to the buffet and brought forth a painted and battered wooden box, large enough to hold the most important memories of Zorana’s first life, yet small enough for her to carry.
‘‘I was almost killed stealing that box from your Romany tribe, Zorana.’’ Konstantine lifted the mask to his face and took a long breath of oxygen. ‘‘But I did it for you, because you wanted it, and because I love you.’’
‘‘You’re not fooling me with that sick-and-sacrificing-old-man act,’’ she said.
‘‘I don’t know what you mean.’’
‘‘And the innocent act won’t work, either.’’
He was in his element as he plotted their defense. Here in the United States, he might masquerade as a peaceful grape grower, but in the Ukraine, he had been Konstantine, the leader of the Varinskis. His strategies had made them the wealthiest and most feared of the world’s crime families, and his ruthless acts had condemned him to hell.
Zorana knew that, battle or no battle, the time of his death was at hand—unless somehow they assembled the four Varinski icons and broke the pact with the devil. Going to her husband, she kissed his cheek, and whispered, ‘‘Humping like bunnies, indeed.’’
‘‘Where do you suppose Aleksandr learned such a phrase?’’ Konstantine asked innocently.
As she left, Zorana glanced back at her husband.
He winked at her.
The tall barn had been built when Konstantine had caved to Firebird’s wistful demands for a horse. The horse was gone, but the barn remained.
The wind buffeted them as they walked to the barn, and a cold rain fell, but when they stepped inside, a sense of peace and warmth enveloped them. It smelled of hay and leather and a good horse gone to his reward, and Zorana imagined she could hear whispers of love from the hayloft, and remembered the times past when she and Konstantine would sneak out here to get away from the rambunctious boys and their little sister.
By the warm glances her daughters-in-law cast toward the ladder, Zorana suspected they enjoyed similar memories.
‘‘It’s safe,’’ Rurik assured them.
‘‘We looked it over,’’ Jasha said.
The bottom floor was taken up with stalls, with logs for the Wilder Fourth of July bonfires, with buckets to douse the Wilder Fourth of July bonfires, and with great piles of things covered by horse blankets.
‘‘I wonder what’s under the blankets,’’ Tasya mused.
‘‘I don’t know. Whatever can it be?’’ Ann walked over and started to kick one.
Jasha moved with the speed of light, blocking her foot. ‘‘Don’t . . . kick . . . the detonators.’’
‘‘I never intended to,’’ Ann said sweetly. ‘‘I just wanted a little payback for all that smelly testosterone you’ve been spreading around lately.’’
He wiped at his pale face. ‘‘Very funny. Want me to carry the basket up to the hayloft?’’
‘‘We can do it. Just’’—Ann pushed at him—‘‘get out.’’
‘‘Adrik will stay out here and patrol the area,’’ Rurik said. ‘‘While the men plan the battle.’’
‘‘Only the finest warrior is left to guard the Wilders’ greatest treasures.’’ Adrik smiled smugly at Jasha.
Zorana patted her second son’s cheek. ‘‘A wise man recognizes defeat when he experiences it.’’ She shut the doors in their faces.
Tasya and Ann were already helping Karen up the ladder to the hayloft. When they reached the top, Zorana handed Aleksandr into their outstretched arms and climbed the ladder herself.
The women shed their jackets and unwrapped Aleksandr.
‘‘The men won’t be able to hear us up here.’’ Ann spread the tablecloth on the floor and pulled mounds of hay over to act as chairs. ‘‘And I have something to say that they’re not going to like.’’
‘‘In that case’’—Tasya unloaded the picnic basket— ‘‘please tell us. Right now I look forward to making them miserable.’’
‘‘When Jasha and I first got together . . .’’ Ann blushed and tucked the a
fghan around her crossed legs. ‘‘I mean, when I first realized he was part of the pact, he was shot with an arrow and I had to pull it out.’’
‘‘Euw.’’ Karen wrinkled her nose.
‘‘I know.’’ Ann pressed her hand to her stomach. ‘‘Worse, while I had my hand inside his shoulder, I sliced my palm open and his blood mixed with mine. It changed me. Ever since, I’ve felt stronger, tougher.’’ She leaned forward and shook her finger to make her point. ‘‘But more important—when I faced off with a Varinski, I developed claws. Just for a second! But that saved my life.’’
‘‘Yes!’’ Karen eased herself down on a seat and set to work slicing off chunks of Brie. ‘‘When I tasted Adrik’s blood, I was fiercer, and I know I seem weak, but less than a month ago, I suffered a dozen broken bones, and my internal injuries were enough to kill me. The doctors say I have healed at an astonishing rate. I’ve thought all along it was Adrik’s blood that gave me back my health.’’
Tasya looked at Zorana. ‘‘I haven’t shared blood with Rurik, but if I could be a better warrior for it, and help with the battle . . . I would.’’
‘‘I haven’t shared blood with Konstantine, either.’’ The tension Zorana had borne since suffering that horrible vision relaxed, and she took her first full breath in almost two years. ‘‘But now I intend to. Of course, for me, the benefits outweigh the drawbacks.’’
‘‘What drawbacks could there be, Mama?’’ Tasya opened the bottle of wine and filled their glasses.
Ann was the most clear-thinking of the girls, and she answered promptly. ‘‘If we share the bond of blood with our husbands, we may share the same fate—if the pact isn’t broken and we are killed, we may be condemned to hell as demons.’’
‘‘Pfft!’’ Tasya waved that argument away as minor. ‘‘I choose hell over an eternity alone.’’
‘‘Yes.’’ Zorana sat on the floor, settled Aleksandr in her lap, and let her daughters-in-law prepare her plate. ‘‘I would rather burn with Konstantine than enjoy all the wonders of heaven.’’
‘‘Me, too,’’ Karen said.
‘‘And I,’’ Ann agreed.