Page 83 of White Wolf
Sasha sighed and came to sit beside him, in the place Pyotr had vacated. The wolf sat down at his feet, her head resting on his thigh. He reached to stroke her ears as he spoke, and his voice came out surer, and more adult than Nikita had ever heard it.
“Be honest with me,” he said. “Why did you go to Siberia to get me?”
Nikita blinked at him a moment, gathering his sloppy thoughts. “I was ordered to.”
Sasha nodded. “Yes. And why did you follow orders?”
This line of questioning seemed stupid and juvenile. “Because I would have been killed or sent to the gulag if I didn’t.”
“And why don’t you want that to happen?”
Nikita frowned. Because dying or being imprisoned in a silver mine, worked to death in freezing temperatures, sounded like horrible fates.
But that wasn’t the reason Sasha was looking for, was it?
He took a deep breath. “Because the only way to topple the state is from within.”
“Do you still believe that?”
“Yes.”
“Is it worth it?”
“Yes. Damn it, Sasha–”
“I was really scared,” he said, quietly, and Nikita shut up. “The whole time, all the way here. But then I realized that you were scared, too, and I felt a little better. At first, I thought I was scared because everything was new, and I didn’t want to die, and didn’t want to get hurt. And now I think maybe I’m scared for the same reasons you are – because it’s important. Saving Russia is important.”
Nikita felt himself smile, but knew there was no humor in the expression, only sadness and fondness. “Maybe we want to save Russia because we can’t save ourselves.”Or the people we love, he added, thinking of his mother, of Dima, of these brothers around him who he’d surely lose.
“Maybe. But Nikita.” Sasha shifted closer, eyes too-bright, vivid blue. “We’re going towin.”
“Yeah? Why do you think that?”
“Monsieur Philippe’s been telling me all about wolves, and vampires, and mages.”
“Has he?”
“It’s a triangle.” He sketched one in the air with his fingertip. “Mage,” on the bottom left, “wolf,” on the bottom right, “and vampire,” at the top. “The wolf is the right hand, the mage the left. Only a mage can make a wolf, and only a wolf can raise a vampire. It’s a perfect circle.”
“I thought it was a triangle.”
Sasha made a face at him. “They’re all very powerful in different ways. They keep each other in check, yes, but when they work together, they are more powerful than anyone can imagine.”
“So the mage does the fire-starting and the magic tricks. And the wolf is the attack dog. What does the vampire do?”
Sasha shrugged. “He is the strongest of all.”
A disturbing thought occurred. “Sasha, what if all Philippe wanted you for was to wake up this vampire – if he even exists?”
Sasha looked wounded by the idea. “He exists.”
“Does he?”
“I exist.” He gave a low growl that wasn’t threatening. Gestured to his own chest. “Why wouldn’t vampires?”
“You make a good point.”
“Iknowhe exists,” Sasha said, shaking his head, expression thoughtful. “I just…I met someone, when I was little. Spoke to a fancy man in the woods. I was only little, and I don’t know how, but I could tell he wasn’t ordinary. I’d convinced myself I dreamed it, but then, during the procedure.”
