Page 6 of Tin God

The world around her was cold and silent save for the barking dogs and the frosty shush of sled tracks on snow. The white blanket that covered the landscape devoured sound whole, leaving Brigid to her thoughts in the cocoon of fur that Andre had thrown around her.

No music. No news programs. No virtual assistant chirping at her.

Brigid was alone with her thoughts, and all she could think was that she missed her husband, her feet were very cold, and she had no idea how, in the vastness of the Alaskan wilderness, she was supposed to find the vampire who had caused so much chaos in her life.

Because she wasn’t in Alaska for a holiday or avacationas her US friends called it. She wasn’t there for research. She’d come to the frozen darkness with one goal alone.

She was there to kill Zasha Sokholov.

The dogs raiseda hail as they approached a low-slung building that curved along the rise of the hill. It looked like an old Quonset hut save for the snow-covered roof and the height. It appeared to meld into the hill behind it, forming the head of something that looked like a turtle while the tree-covered hill was the shell.

Flickering yellow lights surrounded the compound, and as they approached the guardhouse, Brigid saw the chain-link fence topped with barbed wire. There were guards in white clothing stationed along the fence, and a guard tower beyond the gate rose over the trees.

The better to spot a wind vampire.

She’d be waiting for a wind vampire at Oleg’s compound. She hoped Tenzin was already on her way, but with that ancient immortal, there was no way of knowing.

You know Zasha.

I knowofthem.

You know more than that.

Tenzin, wind vampire of old, retired assassin, treasure hunter, and mate of one of Brigid’s closest friends was a mystery that few tried to solve. Brigid had no desire to delve into the vampire’s past, but the situation had forced her hand.

“Andre!” The guard shouted at the dogsled as they pulled in, and Andre brought the sled to a stop. “You have the Irishwoman?”

Andre said nothing, but Brigid popped her head from the pile of fur and waved.

“I’m Brigid Connor,” she said. “Mika said you’d be expecting me.”

Mika Arakas was Oleg Sokolov’s head of internal security, which mostly meant that when heads needed to be cut off and Oleg didn’t want his hands dirty, he pointed at Mika.

“Brigid Connor.” The guard squinted. “Your face, Miss Connor.”

Brigid peeled off the scarf, which had frozen to her face, and tugged off the hat that was keeping her shaved head warm.

The guard looked at her, then a picture, then back to her. “I like the haircut.”

She’d burned off a good chunk of her short black hair months ago and decided to buzz cut all of it. It made for quick evening preparations and frosty ears. “Thanks.” She shoved the wool cap back on. “Is Mika here?”

“Oh no.” The guard smiled. “Lev will introduce you to the guys.” The man had a slight Russian accent, but his manner of speech sounded American.

It was an unusual area. Brigid had called an old friend before she came—one who would deny talking to her if anyone asked—to ask for insight into Oleg and into the politics of the region.

Coastal Alaska was still considered Eastern Russia by most immortals. Which was why technically Katya ruled it, but from what Brigid could tell, it was far more like the American Wild West of old.

Oleg Sokolov had interests. The Eight Immortals who ruled Eastern Asia had interests. The Athabaskan Confederation had the most financial interest and territorial control, but they didn’t want to deal with anyone but Natives and mainly ignored human interests completely.

To outsiders, Katya was the vampire in charge.

It seemed to Brigid that the immortals of Alaska paid attention to their own and ignored everyone else. It was a big place, and big places lent themselves to laissez-faire vampire politics.

“Come inside,” the guard said. “Let Andre put the dogs away. I’m Emil. Welcome to the fishing camp.”

Supposedly the compound in Kenai was Oleg Sokolov’s personal fishing retreat, but Brigid had a hard time imagining a fishing camp needed the kind of security that she was seeing.

She climbed out of the sled and gave Andre a polite nod before she grabbed her backpack and headed toward a narrow door set into the wood-sided building that crawled out of the hill. Just as she approached the door, a large vampire barreled out of it, his arms going wide.

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