Page 7 of Tin God

“Brigid Connor!”

She blinked. “Are you Lev?”

“Who else could I be?” He walked over and gave her two smacking kisses, one on either cheek. “Forgive me—it’s been a long time since we’ve had visitors.”

The man was a giant with a slight Russian accent, a beard that covered half his chest, and brown hair that curled in a riot all over his head like someone had gone a little wild with pruning shears. He was wearing a short-sleeved shirt open at the neck, baring his hairy chest nearly to his waist.

“No visitors, huh?” Brigid looked up and blinked. She was pretty sure her eyelashes were frozen. “I can’t imagine why.”

“I know!” The man’s face lit up as he looked around the snow-covered compound. “Can you imagine that? With weather like this? I will never understand my brother.”

“Are you…” She frowned. “Is Oleg your brother?”

“Oh yeah, yeah. Big family.” He shuffled her into the building as the dogs let out a howling chorus and Andre mushed them away. “Huge family. Our father was a bastard! Cruel old bastard, but he liked siring children.” Lev shrugged. “So Zasha is my sister. Sibling.” He held up a hand. “When Zasha came to us, they were a girl, so sometimes I slip, but I mean no disrespect.”

“No disrespect toZasha?”

Zasha Sokolov was an immortal who had been tormenting Brigid, her mate, and her friends for years. A fellow fire vampire, they’d fixated on Brigid from a distance, picking off people she cared about, killing humans that Brigid would miss, and generally creating chaos.

“Oh, I don’t want to disrespect anyone.” Lev guided Brigid through another set of heavy double doors. “There is too much cruelty in the world, isn’t there? It’s easy to be kind.” He turned to her. “Can I take your bag?”

Brigid clutched her backpack tightly. “No.”

“Okay, good.” Lev nodded. “Good, good. No problem for me. I run Oleg’s fishing camp and I keep track of everyone, but I don’t want to intrude.”

He led her through a small entryway that was stuffed with clothing, muddy boots, and various weather-related accouterments. There were snowshoes hanging on the wall, a few skis propped up in the corner, and lots of dirty towels piled on an old washing machine. The room smelled of dirt, motor oil, and men.

She looked around at the mess. “Is Mika here?”

Mika preferred tailored suits to flannel shirts, and she was having a hard time picturing him in the wilderness.

“Mika?” Lev laughed. “No, but helikesyou. I could tell. He called you the little barsuk.” Lev chuckled. “That Mika, so funny.”

Brigid reminded herself to find out what barsuk meant. “Did Mika tell ya I’m here to… find Zasha?”

Find was good enough. The killing part didn’t need to be stated.

“Oh yeah.” Lev seemed unconcerned. “Yeah, yeah. I don’t blame you for wanting them dead.” Lev opened the door to the next room past the muddy entryway. “They’re not an easy person to like.”

“Zasha?” Brigid frowned. “Yeah, not too likable.” She muttered, “Probably a result of the rampant homicidal mania.”

Lev nodded sadly. “Zasha gets that from our father.”

Brigid didn’t know whether to laugh or not.

Zasha Sokholov did not deserve a sad nod from a friendly vampire bear. They were aligned with no one but themself, hungry for power and an unabashed lover of chaos.

Because they were completely unpredictable, most of Zasha’s own kin had long ago disowned them. The Sokholov crime syndicate wanted nothing to do with Zasha. It wasn’t the murderous tendencies so much, but they didn’t want to be associated with someone they couldn’t control.

Oleg Sokolov—the least criminal but still morally questionable head of his own clan—had changed his name in an outward attempt to distance himself from both his criminal relatives and Zasha.

Not that Oleg wasn’t shady, but Brigid’s sources seemed to agree that Oleg’s criminal enterprises were no longer as profitable as his legal ones, so he was moving away from the darker corners of the vampire world.

It was the only reason Brigid trusted him enough to ask for help.

Lev led her down a narrow hallway and into a large room that looked like a cross between a cafeteria and a living room. There was a large kitchen along the back wall where two humans were cooking something that smelled like game meat.

On the other side of the room, a massive fireplace dominated one wall. Around it there were at least a dozen humans and vampires. Roughly thirty percent vampires if Brigid guessed the flow of energy correctly, and the rest were human. Visually it was hard to tell them apart.

---