Page 135 of White Wolf
“He said you’re an angry and bitter man.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.”
Thestaretstilted his head, an unnervingly birdlike movement. Nikita was aware suddenly of how quiet it was in the room: neither of them twitched; the only sounds were of their breathing.
“Prayer is the most powerful thing on earth,” Rasputin said. “You should trust in it more.” When Nikita didn’t respond, he nodded and said, “But yes, I will help you. It’s what our dear emperor would have wanted.”
“Good.” Nikita turned to leave.
“Captain.”
He glanced back over his shoulder.
Rasputin smiled, eyes glittering. “Won’t you stay a while and tell me more about my wolf?”
Nikita was back at the bedside in two long strides. “He is notyour wolf,” he hissed. “If you touch him–”
“The way that you’re touching me?”
He glanced down. He had a fistful of the man’s gown, knuckles white with effort.
He let go and staggered back a step. He’d touched him. Rasputin, who he loathed, and he’dtouchedhim.
Thestarets– thevampire– chuckled, a low, dirt-choked sound that brought up gooseflesh on Nikita’s arms. “Maybe you are bitter and angry so that no one will see how afraid you are, captain.”
Nikita wanted to wash his hands. To run out of the room.
“You need not fear me. I have God on my side, and soon, I will have you, too, I think.”
Nikita took a deep breath and drew himself upright, forced his hands to relax at his sides. “I will say this once. If you harm a member of my pack in any way, I’ll kill you myself.”
Rasputin only smiled. “It was very nice to meet you, captain. But I think now I should rest.”
Nikita felt like he’d been standing out in the snow without a coat. By the time he reached the small room where he’d left the others, he was wracked with chills. He had to clench his teeth to keep them from chattering.
He let himself inside and leaned back against the door a moment, breathing in the fug of body heat and wolf musk, letting the warmth roll over him like a comforting blanket.
Several wolf heads picked up, looking at him, testing the air for his scent, then laid back down. Sasha was still leaning against the wall, and his eyes opened a crack, cool slits of blue.
Nikita leaned down and patted the top of his head in silent greeting, a gesture that earned him a smile…and then a sniff and a questioning look. He could smell Rasputin, then.
“It’s alright,” Nikita whispered.
Sasha didn’t look convinced, but he finally nodded.
Nikita went back to the cot where Katya lay alone, still trying to draw his warmth from the sheets. She shifted when he slid in beside her, patted his chest and murmured something against his shoulder.
“It’s alright,” he told her.
But maybe it wasn’t.
He laid awake for a long time, listening to his makeshift family breathing around him.
29
WAITING FOR WAR
Waiting for war to happen was a tense, uncomfortable business. A disproportionate amount of sitting offset by high anxiety. For someone else, it might have felt like a much-needed respite, but for Sasha, it felt like imprisonment.
