Destiny and Deception (6 page)

Nearly
.

He was done in nine minutes. Odd how now that Pietr had seemed to lose his sense of timing, mine sharpened—at least when it came to the amount of time Dad and Wanda spent chatting.

He glanced from me to the empty dish rack and nodded approval. “Says the roads look pretty good. So I’ll plow. I’ll even drop you off if Max or Alexi can bring you home. Sound like a plan?”

“It sounds like an excellent plan!”

As soon as he was bundled up and out the door to plow, I got on the phone to Max, making plans for a ride home.

Marlaena

My stretch ended in a yowl and a yawn, and still fully furred, I peered over Gareth’s healed-up shoulder and toward the mouth of the cave. Gabe’s head on my hip, he twitched in his sleep, one paw flicking as he dreamed of … rabbits? Redheaded women? I slid free of them both and padded to the small opening, ducking my head to look outside.

Snowflakes skittered across the lip of the cave, and outside the world was white and thick with a fresh winter coat. Pure and beautiful.

As unstained as a virgin bride.

If I didn’t ruin it, someone else would. And I liked to leave my mark.

I trotted out and took a piss, only returning to flop down on the furry pile of my packmates after I’d fouled up perfection.

CHAPTER FIVE

Jessie

Snow fell in wet clumps, covering the roads nearly as fast as the plows kicked it out to the blacktop’s edges and spread their salt and grit behind them. Dad dropped me off in front of the Rusakovas’ large Queen Anne and watched me climb the steps to the wraparound porch and wave before entering the house.

The door—which seemed locked and unlocked randomly now—slammed shut behind me, blocking out the crisp and surprisingly cruel brush of winter’s fingers. I found myself in the foyer, surrounded by the warm scents of old woodwork and furnishings and the distinct pine forest smell that seemed to be part of the Rusakovas’ natural makeup. The pine warred with the other scents now, not as sharp and powerful but sadly muted since they’d taken the cure.

Lower lip pinched between my teeth, I knew much more than just scent had been muted by the cure’s power. It seemed all of Pietr’s personality—if it could be viewed in decibels—had its volume turned down. The intensity in his eyes, the grace in his movements, the power in his kiss …

I tried not to think of it.

Alexi greeted me and pointed up the stairs with a thrust of his chin. “He’s up there. Studying,” he added in explanation.

“Good god. What do we have to study on a snow day?”

He shrugged. “I have no idea. It seems now that he studies everything.”

Everything but me
. I brushed my hands over my arms and fought back a belated chill. Before, Pietr would have heard me—or smelled me—coming and been waiting at the bottom of the steps to greet me, whether with good news or bad.

But I’d become the least of Pietr’s priorities. And I was determined to change that. I knew I loved Pietr and I knew that Pietr loved me, so it only made sense—in a most logical way—that if I was smart I could somehow regain his attention. I swallowed, fighting down the idea that love and logic seldom worked together.

I am in love with a werewolf after all,
a small voice in the back of my head pointed out.
That defies all sorts of logic.
My life, it seemed, defied logic as well.

I started toward the stairs, but Alexi’s voice stopped me. “Boots.”

“Right,” I said, seeing the slush that coated their sides and knowing their treads would be full of the stuff. Hopping, I tugged them off and dragged my socks back up so their toes no longer flopped loose thanks to the suction from my boots. Setting my boots in the nearby tray, I shrugged off my coat and left it there in the foyer, folded and resting across my boots’ tops.

Alexi merely leaned against the wall and smiled. “Hardwood floors are miserable to maintain,” he said apologetically.

“No problem,” I assured him, though I suddenly noticed the worn condition of my mismatched socks. I tugged at my jeans, getting the cuffs to settle lower. As much as I wanted to regain Pietr’s attention, I didn’t want it to be because he feared I’d gone color-blind.

Cat paused in the foyer to greet me, and Alexi’s smile became a smirk, spotting my sorry socks.

Cat caught the look.

“Do you not have something better to do than be a load-bearing structure for that wall?” Cat asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

He chuckled, but the sound didn’t reflect fully in his eyes. “And what would that be, Ekaterina?” he asked. “Worry about the dangerous antics of my werewolf siblings?
Nyet
. There are no werewolves in Junction, as Pietr so gladly informed Dmitri. Should I struggle with translations and formulas trying to find a cure for my siblings’ abbreviated lifestyles?
Nyet
. Thanks to Jessie, we have our cure.”

My stomach tossed, knowing what Alexi still did not: the truth.

Cat looked away.

“What if you paid your mother a visit?” I suggested.

“My mother is dead,” he replied, all the joy drained from his voice and expression.

“Your
biological
mother,” I clarified cautiously. I had the sudden feeling I was walking on eggshells. “Hazel Feldman.”

He blinked at me as if the name didn’t even register.

Something hit the door behind me, and both Cat and I jumped.

“Excellent,” he muttered, brushing past me. “The newspaper’s here.
Now
I have something worthwhile to do.”

My eyes squeezed shut a moment as I regained my composure. Alexi still had a mother—unlike Pietr, Max, Cat, Annabelle Lee, and I—and he didn’t bother with her. Regardless of the mistake she’d made in giving him up, it seemed somehow wrong to me that he’d just ignore her now that he knew. Couldn’t he forgive her? To me, it seemed that, after everything, there was little that was unforgiveable.

Feet dragging, my hand trailed along the top of the smooth wooden banister as I headed upstairs. My feet in slow motion, I reached the top of the staircase.

Pietr’s bedroom door wasn’t even open.

It was as if he had forgotten I was coming. As if I wasn’t as welcome as I had hoped.

I wandered to his bedroom door, giving more attention than ever before to the knickknacks and pictures that helped fill the space between the Rusakovas’ rooms that lined the top of the stairs.

My socks crackled, crawling with sparks, static popping between my feet and the slender rug.
Electricity
. That’s what I wanted to feel between Pietr and me again—that’s what we seemed to be missing.

But how did I get it back?

I reached out to touch his doorknob and saw the electricity arch and leap free a moment before it shocked me.

“Yow,” I whispered, looking at my fingertip.

But more importantly than how I got electricity back in our relationship was how I could do it and not get zapped.

Slowly I turned the knob and pushed the door open, again finding Pietr stooped over his studies, every bit the perfect student.

On a snow day.

My mind rebelled at the idea. A snow day. There was something verging on the sacred about such days and the way one spent them. Snow days were meant to be enjoyed—they were gifts Mother Nature gave students to bolster us against the oppressive crush of too many worksheets and projects and days without sunlight. A snow day should never melt away in a fit of studying.

I cleared my throat.

He turned to look at me, his expression of intense concentration sliding into a gentle smile. “You’re here already?”

Even at such simple words, my heart faltered.

He glanced at a clock, and a frown line folded the distance between his eyebrows. “Of course,” he said with a sigh. “You’re right on time.”

I decided I was also right on time to change the subject. “So. What are you doing?” I asked, trying to keep the note of reprimand from my voice.

I failed.

He arched an eyebrow, and his smile broadened. “Studying.”

“It’s a snow day.”

“Precisely. It’s like a bonus day to get organized and get extra studying in,” he explained proudly. “I may even Skype with Smith later and review some notes from a few classes.…”

Words bubbled out of my mouth awkwardly. “I’m sorry, Pietr. I won’t tolerate this. I’ve dealt with you dating my sometimes best friend, learning you’re a werewolf, your nearly selling your soul to the Mafia, but this … Oddly, wasting a snow day with studying is where I choose to draw the line.”

“What?” He tilted his head, quirking an eyebrow at me. “
This
is where you draw your line?”

I grabbed him by the wrist and tugged. “Ugh,” I protested when he didn’t budge. “What did you have for breakfast—lead?”

“So many things are made in China today … it’s possible.…”

“Shut up, Pietr. And stand up.”

He obeyed hesitantly, standing and towering over me, a distinctly amused look lighting his eyes. “And now what?”

“Now get your boots and your coat and we’ll take real advantage of this amazing day.” I cleared my throat and specified. “This amazing
snow
day.”

“Fine,” he conceded.

“Where’s Max?”

“In his room, I guess.”

“Dear god—not studying?” But the thought of Max studying on a snow day was absurd. The thought of Max studying at all … “Sleeping in?”

“Of course.”

I snorted. We walked up to his room and I banged on the door, announcing: “Up and at ’em—we’re going to have a snowball fight to beat all snowball fights.”

Max’s door opened a crack and he peered out, disheveled and bleary-eyed, his hair a mess of soft rioting curls. “Jessie.” He opened the door wider to stand boldly in only—

“Heyyy,” I said, ignoring how Max looked in just boxers as he scrubbed a hand across his broad bare chest, ruffling a bit of dark hair. The only other thing he had on was the shorter-length chain he’d worn as a choker—a chain made out of the same material Pietr’s had been. And with only one purpose to its construction.

“Still wearing the necklace?”

He blinked and rolled the links under his index finger, his lips sliding in thought. “
Da
. I’ve gotten used to it,” he added a little quickly, watching me. He yawned and leaned forward in the doorway, his hands on the top of the doorjamb, his powerful arms above his head. “You mentioned a snowball fight?” His lips slipped into a grin.

“Absolutely.”

“I’ll be there,” he grumbled, smacking a hand solidly against the door’s frame. “Kicking ass is a great way to start the day.”

“Kicking ass?” I asked.

He nodded. “I’m coming for
you
,” he said to Pietr with a nod and a dangerous glint in his eyes.

Cat climbed the stairs out of curiosity. “Jessie—
pravda
—really? A snowball fight?”

“Yeah—come on, Cat.… It’ll be fun,” I guaranteed. “Max intends to kick everyone’s ass,” I added as incentive.

“He does, does he?” Her demeanor changed a few degrees, a touch of the sibling rivalry I often saw sparking in Annabelle Lee’s eyes lighting in Cat’s. “Perhaps I should help teach him a lesson in humility?”

“Max and humility…” I rolled the offer around in my head. “Huh. Do those two words even work together grammatically in a sentence?”

But she slipped past us and into her room to change into warmer clothes and join in the upcoming fray.

Pietr’s hand rested on my shoulder, a temperate reminder of the heat his body used to harbor. “Are you certain this is the most productive use of our time?”

“There is nothing more productive on a snow day than making time to have fun.” I turned to him, pressing my body against the length of his and waiting for a reaction.

None came.

Sighing, I said, “Look at it this way. We take the day off, relax and have some fun, and tomorrow we go back to school refreshed and more able to pay attention and focus on our schoolwork.”

He weighed me with his eyes, considering my words. He could surely see through me—in that moment I didn’t give a rat’s ass about being more focused on schoolwork, I just wanted Pietr more focused on
me
. But he chose not to second-guess my intentions and simply nodded, following me down the stairs to pull on his boots and coat as he waited for me to make one last stop.

I pounded on the basement door. It didn’t open. Instead a loud growl rose from far below—the only invitation I’d get into the space serving as Amy’s bedroom now that her father was in rehab and she had no desire to return to the trailer she’d grown up in.

The same trailer where her boyfriend attacked her.

It was a thin invitation, but I did what I always tried to do now and made the most of whatever I was given.

“Morning, Sunshine,” I greeted, pounding down the long line of wooden steps.

Her long red hair a mess of tangles, she looked as if she would have been just as well rested if she hadn’t bothered sleeping at all. Dark spots like thumbprints rested right below her bloodshot green eyes and shadowed her even more than normally pale complexion.

Unable to help myself, I sprang forward and hugged her. “Hey,” I said. “We’re going to have a snowball battle. An epic snowball battle. Max has this idea that he’s going to kick some major ass.”

“So, Sarah’s here?”

“What?” I pulled back and looked at her. Maybe she wasn’t fully awake.

“You said Max was going to kick some major ass, so I presumed that the major ass had to be Sarah.” She stuck out her tongue, and I knew she was more than conscious. She was even briefly verging on dangerous. And seeing that attitude of hers thrilled me—even if the joke came at Sarah’s expense.

I laughed. “No, Sarah’s not here.”

“Maybe it’ll be a good morning after all.”

“Of course it’s going to be a good morning.
I’m
here.” I did a little spin, as if my presence were all that was needed to rally a celebration. “Now get dressed. You can’t go out for a snowball battle wearing those pajamas.”