Chapter 12
“Go yell at Rina, not me.”
Audrey crossed her arms. “I’m hardly yelling, Jonathan.”
Gunnar cocked a brow at her. She always said his first name like that—the one she’d given him when she changed his records—when she was serious. Or annoyed at him. “Then give her the dirty looks.”
She pursed her lips, amusement and frustration painting her scent.
“You know all the things crawling out of the swamps and lakes tonight eat little girls like you.”
“I’m not a child,” she snapped as she packed her bag on their kitchen counter with more force than necessary. She smelled pissed now.
“No, but you are human. The only one in town. And you’re not a fighter, Audrey.”
“I’m not asking to fight. I’m just saying I could help with any injured. Bandages can save lives.” She wrinkled her nose. “That sounds stupid. They can buy time, I mean.” She sighed, picking at the stitching on her satchel. “I hate feeling useless.”
Yeah, that’s what he’d thought this was about. “You’re not, and you know it. Only combatants outside on the Longest Night, you heard it from Rina. Everyone else is in the station, no exceptions, until dawn. Any injured will get tossed inside the barriers, then you can help them.” He grinned at her back. “Besides, you packed stuff to make cookies for everyone?”
When Audrey glared at him, there was no heat in it. She barely held back her smile. “I have more to offer than baked goods, you know.”
He laughed. “Believe me, I am aware.”
Gunnar checked his weapons over one more time, including the eversharp hunting knife. He favored close combat, which let him make use of his speed and sharp reflexes, but he’d become a clean shot with the crossbow because silver-tipped bolts were never a poor bet. He used the single-handed battle axe he’d gotten from the úlfheenar clan less than the crossbow, but weapons were weapons, and tonight would be a battlefield, not a hunt in the woods.
Despite her complaints, they left the cabin a few minutes later, bundled in furs against the deep winter bite. Sunset was a still a few hours off; Rina wanted everyone gathered with time to spare, a non-negotiable request from the settlement leader to give everyone time to bunker down and for the fighters to divide up coverage for the town’s defense.
Audrey locked the door behind them, and although theft was low on the list of concerns this evening, they had a goldmine in dragon parts stashed in the basement until train day. She pulled her scarf up over the bottom half of her face and gave him a thumbs up as she stepped down onto the snow.
The train tracks were only a few feet out from their front door, the terminus about a mile north from their location. Everyone worked together to keep the tracks clear of winter snow and debris. They hadn’t had a fresh snow in a few weeks now, making the mile and half walk to the station easy.
A clear, cloudless sky welcomed them, blue stretching endlessly to the horizon. The land out here was remarkably flat, with marshes and tree lines in all directions. Gunnar still felt exposed when they walked the train tracks, but most of the local wildlife and mythos knew better than to approach Nizhny’s territory in broad daylight.
That didn’t stop Gunnar from watching all directions, tasting the crisp, frostbit air for anything out of the normal.
“Are you worried?” Audrey asked, her breath coming through her scarf in little puffs.
He gave her a lazy shrug. “Nah. They’ve all done this before, know what to expect. This is what, seventh year?”
“Yes, but you haven’t been here.”
“Same shit I hunt day to day, just a bunch at one time.” He inhaled. Her scent was muffled by the furs, but he tasted her worry. “What’s really bothering you?”
“Hmm?” She blinked up at him, then wrinkled her nose. “Nothing, I just . . . I don’t want you to get hurt, that’s all.”
He gave a little snort, not sure why that mattered. “I’m used to it. I heal fast anyway, you know that.”
She huffed. “It is a big deal. You still feel pain, Jonathan.”
Gunnar canted his head at her, not sure what she wanted from him. It had been nearly a year and a half, having her in his life. First as his counsel while he was in prison, then here in Nizhny after. He still wasn’t used to anyone giving a shit what happened to him, let alone worrying about his well-being.
“I’ll be careful,” he offered, the words almost coming out in a question. Was that what she was digging for? He wouldn’t make a promise he couldn’t keep, but he’d never been the type to be reckless in a fight, anyway. Cold control was more his style. “Besides,” he drawled, “I’ll be keeping Zhadan’s ass out of trouble. Last thing I need is you moving us in with a widowed Lyubava and her cubs.”
She laughed. “Only if she didn’t come after you for letting him get himself killed. I doubt cookies would help against an enraged, pregnant chuchuna.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
The station proper came into a view, the building an impressive holdover from the pre-Aperien era. What was once a plain building of beige and white concrete now acted as the town hub, decorated with colorful prayer flags along with etched and painted wards. Empty all around aside from the tracks, it painted a stark picture of their lives here: isolated and removed, with only the weekly train as any form of contact with the rest of the world. The most expensive part of Rina’s initial investment into the settlement had been the snowplow engine to clear the railway to Nizhny station.
Gunnar found he liked that aspect of Nizhny just fine.
The town’s patroness—mayor, boss, dictator, all the above—leaned against the main doorframe, talking with Zhadan and Lyubava.
Katerina “Rina” Yaga cut an intimidating figure, as one would expect from a hybrid Aperien of her heritage, the daughter of a folk hero warrior and a witch goddess. The woman stood toe to toe with Zhadan, only an inch or two shorter, her muscular frame clear under the folded arms and well-kept leather armor. She wore a fur cloak, bearskin, her right shoulder bare. An ancient great sword that looked too big even for her meaty and capable hands leaned against her thigh.
Rina tipped her chin up at Gunnar and Audrey’s approach, her pale blue-gray eyes focused on the chuchunas’ needs.
“Yes,>>” Rina said in Russian, gesturing to the station behind her. “E is warding, as promised. It’s a contracted agreement between the town and Clan B?dvar already, if we want the úlfheenar tranced and fighting tonight.>>” She gave Zhadan a rough pat on the shoulder, then a nod to Lyubava, who didn’t seem impressed by them discussing her safety. “Have I given any reason for doubt since you two arrived, Zhadan?>>”
The chuchuna shook his head, grumbling and growling a bit, before he said, “No, except treeman.>>”
“And I told you, we’ll figure that out after the Longest Night.>>
Zhadan snuffed, but took the dismissal for what it was, and he and his mate ventured into the station. Rina rubbed her chin, turning her attention to Gunnar and Audrey in full.
“Good, you’re a bit early.” Rina gave Audrey a warm smile, speaking English for Audrey’s benefit. Her accent was thick, her voice a deep baritone for a woman. “We’re just waiting for the rest of the Clan then we’ll begin.”
“Anything I can do?” Audrey asked before Gunnar replied. He grinned over her head, catching Rina’s amusement despite her stoic exterior.
He was pretty sure she only tolerated his presence because of Audrey.
“We feast with the dawn,” Rina said. “Aster could use the help in the kitchen, but she’s also set space aside for your baking.”
Gunnar chuckled, and Audrey shot him a glare. He held up his hands in surrender. “Told you, dirty looks for the boss lady, not me.”
“She’s not laughing at me at least,” Audrey said, chin up, but then she sighed and adjusted her bag. “I’ll help with whatever we need.”
“Thank you,” Rina said, genuine, and Audrey gave a half smile before she ducked into the station. As soon as she did, Rina arched a brow at Gunnar. “Little wanted to fight, is it?>>”
“Nah. More like she hates feeling like a burden. That and she gets restless when she worries, especially when she can’t do anything about it.>>”
“Fair,>>” Rina said, then grinned a little, conspiratorial when she added, “She believes so little of our abilities? I think my feelings are hurt.>>”
“You have those, huh?>>”
Rina threw back her head and laughed, a heavy braid tossed over her shoulder. Then she sobered, made a thoughtful hum. “Audrey will stay inside?>>”
Gunnar inhaled. Rina’s scent wasn’t concerned, not exactly. Audrey, for all her endearment to Nizhny’s people, had no qualms about letting everyone know when she disagreed with something. After a few uncomfortable conversations, Audrey agreed to bring up any grievances in private from now on, but she’d never disobeyed a directive.
Rina smelled protective. Possessive, almost. This town was her livelihood, her everything really. A home, the backbone that made Rina a true Independent power. She regarded those under her umbrella as family, at least those who’d proven themselves worthy.
Audrey had certainly done that. For any mild headaches she caused, she solved a dozen more. She made a settlement filled with grumpy dusters and meaner Aperiens smile. She just had a way about her.
“Yeah, she will,>>” Gunnar said, and he didn’t doubt it. She wouldn’t cause trouble without good reason, and she knew she had no place in a fight. She hated the violence of his quotas, even if she understood the reason and helped process the dead.
That was enough to satisfy Rina.
They headed inside when Clan B?dvar came into view down the railway, the berserkers already chanting battle hymns as the sun sunk low behind them. The dire wolf pack, twenty plus strong and counting, Rina’s own personal hunting beasts, answered with echoing howls at the promise of bloodshed.