My Wild Horse King (The Russian Witch's Curse Book 4)

26. Gustav

The longest I’ve ever slept in my life was fourteen hours after my first semester of exams at Yale. Or at least, that was the longest, until I managed to use the earth power for the first time.

When I finally wake up, my head’s pounding.

Not that Aleksandr cares.

He doesn’t let me eat, drink, or rest in any way until I can reproduce the tiny twister I made before I passed out.

“Now we know that you’ll be tired right after,” he says. “We can act accordingly.”

He’s acting like the fate of the world rests on my abilities, which I’m beginning to think is a little crazy. I mean, sure, Leonid’s concerning, and he’s here, but it’s not like I’m the only person in the world who poses a threat. He’s keeping his magic hidden, which means he’s at least scared of people finding out what he can do.

We’ve been following Leonid’s trip to America on the television, and so far, he’s been meeting with lots of different groups. The most horrifying part is that, as he does, the public opinion on him and on Russia. . .shifts.

He was once the most hated dictator on earth, probably.

And now, all because he’s a good-looking English speaker, most of the American media, at least, is eating out of his hand.

“I really didn’t expect you to be quite so personable,” Oprah says. “You’re quite charming.”

I shut the television off.

“The good news is, it doesn’t seem like he knows where we are,” Katerina says. “That means we still have some time.”

“Maybe he didn’t even come here to find us,” I say.

Everyone laughs.

The timing is suspect. He did announce his travel plans immediately after I saved Katerina and gained the ability to use powers at all. And then, not long ago, he returned her powers. It’s probably just what she suspects—a shameless bid to get her to call him.

She’s been refusing to use them entirely on the outside chance that using them would draw him to us. Clearly the one time she shocked me wasn’t enough.

Or, he’s biding his time. Waiting for. . .we’re not sure what.

It would be nice if super villains in real life provided monologues to tell us their plans. A memo or some kind of declaration would be equally helpful. As it is, we’re left guessing.

And practicing making mini earth tornadoes, apparently.

“Today, we’re going to learn how to bury someone in dirt,” Aleksandr says. “And if that’s easy to master, we’ll work on defending against lightning strikes and fire attacks using earth. It’s surprisingly effective, even with small amounts of soil or other debris.”

“But—”

Katerina has been watching us—they all have. But she has spent at least half her time in her horse form, as if she’s been denied it too long. Whatever else Birch Creek may not have, like great food, or anything at all interesting to do, it’s flush with big, spacious pastures and rolling hills.

“I’m going for a run,” she says. Again.

“Don’t get caught,” I say.

I’ve said that same thing every single day, like an idiot.

I have not mentioned our kiss. She hasn’t either. But I catch her staring at me sometimes. It’s enough to make me want to force myself to be able to use the lightning power, just so she can teach me instead of Aleksandr. I’m really sick of his high-handed superciliousness. I swear, I might knock him in the head with a tiny tornado of mud and claim it’s an accident.

My one hesitation is that I’m not sure he’ll buy it twice.

It might be worth the risk. Watching him race inside to change clothes was hilarious. An hour and a half later, I’ve managed to bury lots of things with piles of dirt, but I’m not doing as well at defending against fire.

It might be easier if Alexei wasn’t using a flame thrower. It pretty much creates flame with a permanent power source, so defending against it requires an ongoing churn of additional dirt.

“Wow.” Abigail’s standing on her back porch. “You weren’t kidding about wreaking havoc on our arena.”

“I’m so sorry.” I drop the earth immediately.

Aleksandr’s smile is smug. “Don’t worry. It’s very easy to repair.” With a few waves of his hands, the dirt flattens out and everything’s even again.

Abigail blinks.

Motion from behind her, near the road, catches my eye. Something gold flashes—and I realize it’s Katerina, running. Then I’m stuck watching. I can’t seem to take my eyes off her, no matter what form she takes. It’s strange that her horse form is the exact one I kept dreaming about, but also, it feels. . .right. Like of course it was her.

I felt like maybe we were both interested in each other, but then after I managed to use my earth powers the first time, she backed off.

Big time.

Aleksandr doesn’t make any of it easier. So if I spend a little too long staring at her as she runs alongside the road toward us, well. I refuse to regret that.

In the fall weather, wind gusting down from the mountains, her mane billows out behind her like a gorgeous white-gold flag. Her nostrils are flaring—she’s clearly been running hard—and her legs move like water running through a riverbank, fluid and tumultuous.

Her head turns then, and she sees me staring.

Our eyes meet, and I smile. I shouldn’t be so obvious, not when I don’t know what she thinks about me, but I can’t seem to help myself. She tosses her head and whinnies, and that’s when I see it.

A tractor coming around the bend where it’s harvesting a large field. She, clearly, doesn’t see it. I wave, and she tosses her head again. She has no idea what I’m trying to tell her.

They’re about to collide.

I don’t think about it.

I simply push, wrapping her up in the only way I can, and then I drag her toward me. She flies through the air like a wingless, airborne Pegasus, her legs still moving, her hooves flashing in the sunlight, and I set her gently down in the center of the arena.

“What on earth was that?” Abigail asks. “What just happened?”

Grigoriy whoops from behind her on the porch. “Our boy just forced his second power.”

This time, I make it exactly one hour before I pass out mid-practice session. When I wake up, I’m lying on someone’s bed. I rub my eyes and cast around for my phone. It’s on perpetual airplane mode, and I have no idea how my own IPO’s even going.

I can’t risk Jean telling anyone where I am.

Not even Grandfather.

I expect them to file a missing person’s report since I’m staying off the radar, but there’s still nothing I can do about it. When I clear my vision enough to read the phone display, I realize that I was out more than two days this time. Ugh.

“Two days,” I groan as I sit up.

“Gustav?” Katarina’s sitting on a chair in the corner. Her legs are crossed, and as she uncrosses them, she stretches her hands up in the air over her head and yawns. “Thank goodness.”

“It’s been two days?” I ask. “That’s not good.”

“At least it was air,” she says. “If you had tried to save me with water, it might have alerted Leonid to our whereabouts.”

I can’t help smiling. “What would that have looked like?” I’m sure I’m smirking now. “A tidal wave to shove you out of the way of that tractor?”

She rolls her eyes. “So glad you’re awake. Did I mention that?”

I clear my throat, but before I can tell her that I’m glad she was there when those kids and that dog came along on that street, she looks down at her feet.

What does that mean? Is she annoyed with me? Does it make her uncomfortable that I saved her?

“Gustav.” She looks right at me. “I think?—”

I can’t hear it. Whatever she’s about to tell me, I’m not ready to hear it. I can’t lie here in bed while she tells me that she’s not into me. I haven’t even tried to convince her that I’m not that bad yet.

“No, Katerina, I have to say something first.” I shove upward until I’m sitting. “Okay?”

She nods, her mouth closing with an audible snap.

Now that I have her attention, though, I’m not sure quite what to say. “Um, so.” I swallow. “The reason I saved you earlier?—”

“Fifty hours ago, you mean?” She’s smirking now.

I break into a smile. “Yes. I guess that’s what I mean.”

“And?”

“I can’t take my eyes off you,” I whisper. “I know you came here to try and win Alexei back, and I know that I’m this pathetic guy who only cared about his company, and who now can barely even shift a pile of dirt, and I know that Leonid’s coming for us or whatever, and it’s not a good time, but?—”

Katerina stands up, and when she starts walking, I worry she’s about to storm out.

I bite my lip, but she hangs a left around the side of the bed and grabs the collar of my strange, probably-borrowed nightshirt, and she pulls my head toward her. “I thought you were never going to say anything, you idiot.”

Then she presses her mouth against mine.

I’ve been sleeping for more than two days, so I’m sure I’m not at my best. I have no idea what my hair looks like, for instance, and I’m not sure what I smell like. Hopefully nothing too bad.

But I forget about all of it.

Her hands on my lapels loosen, and her palms flatten against my chest, and I roar, my arms going around her backside and dragging her up and onto my lap. Her legs straddle my middle, and I turn my head so my mouth can slant down over hers.

The door to the bedroom opens, and a familiar voice asks, “You guys alright?”

We freeze, and I slowly shift to look around Katerina’s messy bun.

It’s Gabe.

Sweet, eager, adorable little teenage ball of energy, Gabe. The one who’s been turning us into cartoon comic book characters for the past decade. I’m in his room, I think, and Katerina’s basically straddling me on what’s probably his bed.

She scrambles off my lap, her hands smoothing down her shirt and hair frantically.

His laughter’s like the report of a cannon—high, clear, and sharp. “Mom heard something, and she wanted me to see if you were awake.” He nods slowly. “I’m gonna tell her you’re still sleeping.” He winks and closes the door.

I love that kid.

I reach for Katerina, but she slaps my hand away. She is smiling, though, so I’m thinking it’s not really bad.

“What?” I shrug. “He said he’d tell her that?—”

She rolls her eyes. “Guys are all the same.”

“Hardly.” I fold my arms over my chest and flex a little. “I’m way better looking and more competent than that stupid czar baby.”

“You can’t call him a baby. He’s a hundred years older than you.”

I pull a face. “Don’t tell me that’s what you’re into, because if so, I should warn Amanda Saddler to watch out. Her husband’s almost that old.”

She slaps my shoulder.

But Gabe’s plan must have gone awry, because the door flings open and Kristiana runs through. “You’re awake.” Her eyes widen when she takes in the fact that Katerina’s sitting next to me on the bed.

“We’re dating,” I say.

Not that we can really date here, in Birch Creek, while we wait for a maniac to discover us and I practice flinging dirt at people.

I brace myself for Katerina to play it off as a joke, but she scoots closer and drops her hand on top of mine with a shy smile that may be the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. “It’s true.”

Kristiana opens her mouth and closes it again without saying a word.

My sister’s speechless.

I would’ve put money on that not even being possible a day ago.

It must be a first.

“I know it’s not a great time.” I lift my chin. “But that’s why I won’t wait. We have no idea what’s coming, so I should get the one thing that makes me happy.”

“I’m the one thing that makes you happy?” Katerina’s looking up at me like I’m Christmas morning, her eyes bright. Her hand twists so that our fingers entwine.

Kristiana smiles then, and it’s at least as big a shock as Gabe’s wink. “That’s one thing I actually understand, brother.” She backs up and grabs the door handle. “I’ll tell everyone you’ll be out in a few.”

A few. It’s not enough time to do much, but. . .

I wrap both my arms around Katerina and hug her tightly against me. “I—this makes me really happy. I wasn’t exaggerating.”

She shivers, then.

“Are you alright?” I release her enough that I can look down at her face.

She nods, grinning. “Fine.”

“You’re not cold?”

“Sometimes I shiver when I’m happy.” She shrugs. “Always have.”

“I like it.” I run one finger down the side of her face, and she shivers for me. That makes me beam.

“I like you,” she whispers.

And that makes me smile even more broadly. “So about the other things you like to do?—”

But the door bangs open, this time, without anyone in the doorway. At least, not for a good five seconds. When Grigoriy does appear, he’s not grinning. “I hear you’re twitterpated.”

I frown. “What?”

“Well, too bad. We’ve been bored for days, waiting for you to wake up, Sleeping Beauty,” he says. “And Mirdza’s been on a Disney cartoon kick.” His frown deepens. “But now that you’re awake, we have work to do.” He doesn’t even have the decency to reach over and grab my arm.

No, he literally whisks me off the bed with phantom wind tendrils, just like he did that very first day in the lobby. Only, this time, I’m not a helpless little kitten. I don’t just flail about as he drags me across the room.

I focus on him and push from my forehead out, just like I’ve been doing when working with earth. Only, nothing happens.

“Was that tiny little puff I barely felt you?” Grigoriy throws his entire head back and bellows. “That was hilarious. Let’s go, Moana.”

“Who’s Moana?” I ask.

I barely see Katerina shrug before I’m floated through the hall and out the front door. I’ve had about enough of Grigoriy’s high-handedness when he drops me on the soft ground of the arena. Or, at least, I thought I had.

When he starts attacking me with gusts of wind, buffeting me from the right and the left, I’m really torqued off. I was having the first nice moment I’ve had since they found me back in New York City, and he had to barge in and ruin it?

He wraps me around on both sides with air, lifts me into the air, and then drops me.

Before I can slam into the ground, two pillars of earth swirl up to brace underneath my feet, and I lift both hands, directing two more at the jerk.

They almost reach his face when he flings both hands out and sends them flying away. He’s smiling like it’s all some big joke when he says, “Is that all you’ve got, Ariel?”

“At least I’m not obsessed with little girl cartoons.” I’ve never wanted to punch anyone so badly in my life.

“That’s because you are a little cartoon girl.” Grigoriy comes at me himself this time, a knife in each hand. “Cry for me, Snow White.”

I stop fuming, because he seems to be trying to kill me for real. I drop back into my combat training, which was not focused on weapons, and I match him, blow for blow. When his blades nearly slip past my guard, I fling dirt up to block, blowing it into his face afterward.

“Whoa,” Aleks says. “He used both.”

“Shut up,” Grigoriy hisses.

But it’s too late. I realized that Grigoriy was being that annoying on purpose. He’s baiting me. “What’s going on?”

“You overthink things.” Grigoriy’s bouncing back and forth from one foot to the other. “But when you get out of your own way, like when you see a tractor coming for your girlfriend. . .”

“You aren’t a total dolt,” Aleksandr says.

This time, they both come at me at the same time.

Two hours later, Grigoriy has had to heal a broken arm, a dislocated shoulder, and a gash on my face, but I’m actually using both wind and earth together moderately well. I’m not sure they’d agree with my assessment, but it feels like monumental progress to me.

It almost makes up for the fact that they’re trying to end my life.

“If it takes you longer to recover each time,” Aleksandr says, “then when you absorb another power, we won’t have much time to work with it.”

“Before Leonid finds us, you mean?” I ask.

“I think he should try to use all three of the remaining ones at once,” Grigoriy says. “We can drive him around while he sleeps. That’ll keep Leonid from finding us.”

“I’m not sure,” Aleks says. “It’s a big risk. What if pushing him that hard kills him?”

“That’s your fear?” I ask. “That they might kill me?”

“It’s my fear too.” Katerina’s watching from the back porch. They all are, pretty much.

“Do you not have jobs?” I glare at Amanda Saddler, her husband Tom, and the Archer/Brooks crew. They’re all just staring at me.

“It could be worse,” Abby says. “We haven’t told Ethan or Izzy, but if we did, they’d come over to watch too, for sure.”

“Who?” I blink.

“My oldest two kids,” she elaborates. “And I haven’t told Amanda or her kids, either.”

“Amanda’s right there.” I point.

“I’m Grandma Mandy,” she says. “Trust me, the real Amanda is a lot to handle.” She must be talking about Emery’s mother, but coming from Amanda Saddler, saying someone is a lot to handle has meaning. She’s already a plucky old broad.

“If she finds out what we’ve been hiding, Emery’s going to kill me,” Whitney says. “You have no idea.”

“I just can’t believe you don’t have better things to do,” I say.

“Better things than watching three superheroes beat on each other?” Gabe’s grin is so contagious that I feel my irritation melting away.

“More like watching me get destroyed,” I mutter.

“No way,” Gabe says. “If I could pick to be one superhero, I’d have picked Iron Man for sure—until I met you. Now I’d pick you.”

Grigoriy’s laugh strikes again, even louder this time. “The guy who keeps getting his butt handed to him?”

Gabe rolls his eyes. “The best ones always do at first. It’s the growth montage, duh.”

“Duh,” I say.

“I don’t remember them having to be healed three times in an hour like little bit?—”

“Language,” Abigail says.

Grigoriy snaps his mouth shut.

Kristiana laughs. “I kind of like being in the audience. It’s nice to watch my sweetheart in action.”

“You mean Dirt Dude?” I ask.

“I am not Dirt Dude,” Aleks says with a snarl.

“You prefer Mud Man?” I shrug. “I mean, I guess it’s your call.”

Gabe and Whitney are laughing so hard that I actually feel kind of bad for mocking Aleks.

“What should we call him?” Nate points at Grigoriy.

“Meathead?” I suggest.

“How about Wind Whipper?” Katerina says.

“Breeze Boy,” I say. “Hands down.”

“I like it,” Aleksandr says.

“Do you like it, Mud Man?” Grigoriy slugs him on the shoulder. “You would.”

“It’s Mister Mud Man to you.” Aleks is smiling, shockingly.

When Alexei and Adriana wander through the back door, they’re tossed into the mix as well.

“Water Wuss,” Grigoriy says. “Because he can’t even use his power.”

“Aquaman,” Adriana says. “Obviously.”

“But there’s already an aqua man,” Nate objects. “I don’t think you can take a name that’s already been taken.”

“H2O Hombre,” Steve says. “Or Lake Lad.”

Gabe’s chuckling. “You’re all horrible at this.”

“I think that’s the point.” Katerina’s smiling.

I sling an arm around her, and for just a beat, I wish we could freeze time. I know Leonid’s coming, and I know that when he gets here, things will be complicated. Probably even dangerous.

That means we’ll need to leave here soon. We can’t lead him to these nice people. It would be the worst way to repay their generosity. But I realize that, in this moment, I’m happy.

That hasn’t happened for me much.

Ever, maybe.

For the next few days, I practice all day each day. And by practice, I mean Grigoriy and Aleksandr work harder and harder to try to kill me, and I improve at stopping them. We start at daybreak, and we stop well after the sun has gone down.

But for at least an hour after I shower and before I sleep, I sneak away with Katerina for a walk. Sometimes we literally just walk and talk. Other times, well. Holding her hand is magical. Kissing her neck is nirvana.

On the fifth day, just after lunch, I realize something has changed. Instead of hanging on for dear life as they pummel me, I’m going after them. And, alone, I’m beating them back. We still have an audience, but since people do have lives, it’s often smaller and it varies. Right now, the only person watching us is my sister.

“It’s time,” Aleks says when we finally break from training.

“Time for what?” I’m panting, but this time, they’re dirty and sweaty, and I look pretty clean.

“It’s time for you to take water.”

“Won’t that maybe let Leonid know where we are?”

“We have one advantage,” Aleks says. “He’s being watched, so if he’s coming for us, we’ll see it. The media that so loves him follows him like a hawk.”

I suppose he’s right.

“If I’m about to summon the devil, I want something first.”

“What?” Aleks and Grigoriy ask at the same time.

“A proper date.”

“Here?” Grigoriy asks. “Where would you even go?”

“Who cares?” I ask. “Brownings. Or the Grill. Either way, I’m going to take Katerina out for once—some place with just the two of us.”

“It’s unnecessary,” Grigoriy says.

But Kristiana shakes her head. “I disagree. I think it’s vital.” She smiles. “Go shower and get changed. I’ll find your date.”