Page 15 of Golden Eagle

Nikita reeled back, vision swimming. Inhaled. Smelled two wolves. Saw them, man-shaped, standing below.

One tall fellow with pleasing features and glossy dark hair, and the second short, slight, and tow-headed. A teenager, at most.

Sasha’s wrist fell away, and his arm tightened across Nikita’s shoulders. He growled, body tightening where it was pressed to Nik’s.

“Hello,” the dark-haired stranger said again, softer. He had a British accent. “I’m assuming you’re Nikita Baskin and Sasha Kashnikov?”

Nikita couldn’t answer, his throat clotted with nausea, his head spinning.

Sasha bowed up beside him, growl touching his voice. “Who wants to know?”

“Friends. Potentially,” the man – the wolf – answered. “We saw your work in Virginia, and we want to discuss a potential business arrangement. An alliance.”

Sasha’s growl deepened.

“This,” the strange wolf said, touching the boy’s shoulder, “is Much. And I’m Will Scarlet. We’re friends of Robin of Locksley – his pack. And Familiars of Richard the First, the Lionheart, King of England.”

Nikita shut his eyes, and tried very hard not to succumb to unconsciousness, belly gnawing at itself.

“Perhaps we should get him something to eat before he passes out,” Will Scarlet suggested.

And then Nikita did just that.

---