Page 26 of In Love With the Leshy

“Give the order,” he commands. I do as I’m told, and the wolves step out first, surveying the area. They walk around the car sniffing, trying to get under it, climbing on top of it, making sure there are no surprises. Fang even climbs through the open door and moves around the inside. Once satisfied, they sit on the ground one by one, giving me the sign for the all-clear.

I keep vigilant as I rush around to the driver’s side. There’s no getting in on the passenger side. The door is too close to the ground, and it would take too long. I don’t remember leaving it like this.

I gasp long and hard when I look at the interior. My heart jackhammers in my chest. It’s been vandalized. The seats are sliced and torn. My mother’s crystal rosary beads that normally hang from the rear-view mirror are nowhere to be seen. I’ve been meaning to take them out, but I felt like I had her with me when I looked at them. It helped with the loneliness.

“Is there any chance that they did this before chasing you into the forest?” Em asks.

“No,” I mutter. “Aside from the window,” I point to where the bullet flew through the glass, “they really only damaged the outside.”

“Were there others that followed closely?”

I shake my head. “I only saw the three of them.”

“Which means Nikolai was able to subvert my magic and find his way out.”

This is the first hint Em has given that anyone or anything can best him. And I’m surrounded by wolves. Does this make them more likely to revolt against him and attack me?

“Nikolai knows where I live. Most likely, he’s waiting at my apartment or has someone watching it for him.”

“Possibly.”

“Could it be one of the others?”

“No.” Em sounds certain. “It can only be Nikolai.”

“Everything’s gone. My purse, my phone. The sweet treat I brought for you.”

“Erin, haven’t you realized, you are my sweet treat.”

I take his words to heart, but this isn’t the time to focus on him. I reach under the steering wheel to the secret compartment that an ordinary person wouldn’t be able to find without knowing it’s there. The hiding spot my father created, just in case. Since it’s not open, I hope it means Nikolai didn’t find it.

Bingo!

Chapter 13

“You should’ve brought it without me,” I say to Em before he knocks on the wooden door of the tiny cottage at the edge of the forest.

“Irina asked you to give it to Masha. Not to me.”

I think of Irina for a moment. My heart breaks that the lonely woman had no family other than the two awful grandchildren who had no use for her. Masha and Nikolai. Talk about the bottom of the barrel. I’m thankful that I did the little I could for her. It was more than her own flesh and blood did.

The door opens.

“I’m so sorry.” Masha looks nervously from Em to me and back to Em. “I never would’ve left you alone if I didn’t think it was safe or if I didn’t expect Em to rush back to you.”

“Why did you leave her?” He asks, in his deep, rumbly voice, as if I’m not standing a foot away.

“Come in, please,” she steps back inside, holding the door wider for us to enter. “I’ll explain.”

After settling us down on the tiny love seat in the main room of her cottage, Masha offers us cookies, milk, and bottled water. That’s interesting. Is she close enough to civilization that she has a refrigerator and electricity? Looking around, I don’t see any lights. My stomach growls when Masha places a plate in front of us.

A bear skin rug serves as a carpet on the dirt floor. Unlike the cave, the cottage has a window. A fire is lit in the pit carved out in the far wall. Floral and gingham material lie discarded in a pile with scissors and thread. I hope I don’t step on a needle on my way out.

Masha follows my stare. “I’m teaching Ana to sew.” She points to the lone, plaid-covered throw pillow on the couch. “We made a pillow. Sometimes it’s easier to work with patterns.” She bobs her head from one side to the other. “Sometimes it hides the mistakes, and sometimes it highlights them.”

“Oh! Speaking of sewing,” I perk up, ready to hand over the stress ball I’ve been squeezing as if it’s my life-line. “I came here,” I look from her to Em, “because your grandmother asked me to find you and bring you this.” I extend my hand and unclench my fingers so she can see the strange pincushion.

I watch as Masha’s jaw drops. Her watery blue eyes meet mine. Her expression holds nothing back; I’m just not sure what emotion is strongest: awe, disbelief, or gratitude. In slow motion, Masha takes it from my hand and throws her arms around me, wrapping me up in a hug. I don’t move, allowing her to cry.

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