Altair
I didn’t go downstairs.
I thought about it, as I sat on the edge of Leo’s bed and stared at the floor. I didn’t owe anyone anything for decency?
It was a generous way of moving through the world, presuming that everyone had a baseline of generosity and kindness. Leo had told me enough about his past and his pack that I didn’t believe it was pure ignorance that had him believing that kind of thing, but he was wrong.
There was a limit. There was a limit for everyone.
I hadn’t found Leo’s yet, but that didn’t mean that it didn’t exist. It was just that so far, I hadn’t posed him much of a threat. I hadn’t attacked anyone that he cared about. He was still willing to give me his best.
Viktor, though we were at odds, had a clearer view of the world. No one would knowingly choose to put themselves or the ones they loved at risk for a monster.
Leo simply didn’t know that the witches weren’t the only threat I’d bring down on his family.
I had zero doubt that Ivan would rip his way through this werewolf pack, and I didn’t think a vampire his age would have any trouble managing it. Yes, werewolves healed quickly. They were incredibly strong and fast, and they had better senses than any other supernatural creature that I knew of.
Maybe there were other shifters who could match them. The fae were faster. We vampires could see better in the dark. But when looking at all-around strengths, werewolves ranked high in every aspect.
Me? A pack of werewolves working together would tear me to pieces. But Ivan never walked into a situation without knowing precisely how to manage it. If he thought there was even a chance he wouldn’t come out on top, he’d avoid it entirely.
There was a reason that he had the witches hunting me rather than showing up himself. If he wanted me back cowering at his feet, waiting to see where the pain came from next, he could manage that on his own—just not without risk.
He’d send others to do his dirty work until he was sure he could get his hands on me.
So clearly, the worst thing I could do was wander off on my own. The best protection I had was the number of people standing between Ivan and me, or Ermengarde and me. And I sincerely doubted that any of Leo’s pack except perhaps Leo himself would be particularly motivated to help me.
Maybe against the witches, but what happened when my sire descended on their pack?
Clearly, they’d hand me over. It was what I’d do, to save myself from Ivan.
Maybe Leo could be twisted into helping me escape.
And his whole pack would suffer for it. That’d be a wonderful thing to live with for the rest of eternity.
I stayed in bed while the sun rose, tension in my arms when I wrapped them around my legs. Vaguely, I thought about throwing the shutter wide and being done with it. If Ivan could tell that I was free, he’d feel it when I died. There’d be no reason for him to come here.
And I’d burn to ash in the middle of poor Leo’s bedroom. That’d be just the way to repay him for his kindness.
Thinking about him was what kept me in bed, not doing a single thing to help or hurt anyone. In the morning, I heard Aleks and Cash clearing out their room, standing on the landing and talking to Leo and Viktor, who were helping. It was loud for a couple hours before the house went quiet.
Not long after, Leo knocked, and when I didn’t reply, he slipped into his—my—room.
“Altair?” he whispered into the dark.
I didn’t move and didn’t say anything. He must’ve presumed I was sleeping, because he sneaked his way to the closet and removed some of his things before tiptoeing back to the door and shutting it softly.
What was I supposed to do with him? Whether he wanted to think it or not, I did owe him. And if I wanted to stay safe, I needed to do more than hide out in my room.
I also needed more than Leo alone on my side. Obviously, his mother held sway with the pack, and he’d said that she liked company. I could start there.
The sun was still up, but the light creeping around the closed shutter was orange like it was going down. When I pulled myself out of Leo’s bed, I realized I was still wearing the clothes from the day before. They were covered in dirt.
I’d gotten dirt in his bed.
With a sigh, I peeled the shirt over my head and found clean clothes to wear before making my way downstairs. Leo didn’t have much to my style, and that was when I realized that what I was used to wearing likely wasn’t in fashion anymore.
That was a pity. Leo’s clothes were baggy on me, but I got the sense that no clothes I could get in this era would be as particularly tailored as I wanted.
At least I was the only one who’d see the dearth there.
I found an outfit like the one Leo had brought me before—loose and soft and stretchy—and crept down the stairs.
“The curtains are pulled, Altair,” Leo’s mother called from below. “If it’s still too bright, let me know.”
I peeked my head around. There were windows in the living area that cast light across the couch, but the ambient light was easy to ignore. As long as it didn’t hit me, it wasn’t so bad, and the kitchen where she was standing at the counter was perfectly shaded.
“No, thank you, um—”
“Call me Katya, dear.”
“Katya,” I repeated with a small smile.
“Come sit,” she said, nodding to a stool across from her. “The boys are out working, and this morning, Aleks said something about taking Viktor to run the perimeter of our territory, since the witches are encroaching again.”
I bit my tongue against expressing the hope that it would leave her son too exhausted to worry about me, but she shared a knowing smile across the counter as I slipped into my seat.
“They’ll be out a while yet,” she said. “Did you sleep well?”
Something about her face, the round softness of it but also the quick, sharp way she caught my eye, had me opening up in a way I’d never meant to.
“I didn’t sleep at all,” I admitted.
She arched a brow. “Uncomfortable?”
I shook my head. “Thinking. Leo—”
She waited, going back to working the dough on the counter, watching me.
“He gave me his room,” I said.
Her lips curled upward. “He’s a good boy.”
A good boy, for giving up his own comfort for me. She really believed that.
My brow pinched. “He is, but . . . forgive me, this sounds worse than I mean it, but how?”
“What do you mean?”
“You all came from Russia, right?”
She nodded.
“And he and Viktor, they aren’t . . . I know you’re their mother, but—”
Katya frowned down at her flour-covered hands. “Their birth mother was my dearest friend. She died, and there was no way I’d—I couldn’t leave those boys alone in the world. They’re mine.”
I nodded. “But he lost his family. Just like the rest of you, he had to flee his home. And he’s . . . You’ve all been very kind—”
Katya snorted. “All of us?”
I shrugged. “Viktor may not like me, and I’m willing to admit that my perception is skewed, but he hasn’t hurt me. I can withstand a few callous words. He’s . . . not even wrong. About vampires.”
She shrugged. “Viktor is not always as right as he thinks he is, but what you’re trying to say is that Leo is kinder?”
I huffed. “Absurdly kind. How has it not gotten him killed yet?”
Her head tipped to the side. “Well, he’s not a fool. He’s just—”
She furrowed her brow, and I sat quietly while her hands stilled.
“Can I help with that?” I asked, nodding to the dough she was kneading.
Katya perked up and smiled at me. “That’d be lovely, Altair. I could cut the vegetables.”
I slipped off the stool and washed my hands at the sink. “Happy to.”
While I stood beside her, kneading the dough, she went to work. It was easier to talk like this, with both our hands busy and no reason to stare at each other.
“My sons all grew up knowing more fear and need than any child should, and it marked them all, but Leo’s the one who took it upon himself to try and fix everything that he could.
He’s always been convinced that if he could hope hard enough, smile quick enough, offer all of himself, things would get better.
When we lost his brother, that was how he held himself together.
Aleks doubted we’d ever get Viktor back, but Leo couldn’t let himself.
Of everyone I’ve ever known, Leo would be the last person to let go of hope.
He won’t turn his back on someone in need. ”
“Even a vampire?”
Unimpressed, Katya glanced at me. “If the only thing that mattered about us was what we are, Leo would be just like Viktor. You’re more than a vampire, and being a vampire isn’t innately bad anyway.”
Well, that settled it. If Viktor had interactions with vampires, he hadn’t told his family much about them. Perhaps he would, now that I was around, and she would come to realize exactly what she was dealing with.
“Leo found a creature in the woods who needs to feed on him to survive and invited him in for a bite.”
Katya huffed and smiled. “Leo saw you in the woods and gave what he could. Is he dead?”
“No.”
“Irreparably harmed?”
“ . . . No.”
“Then I fail to see a problem beyond you trying to dehumanize yourself in the exchange.”
“I’m not human.”
“Neither are we.”
I turned the bread over and worked it for a few quiet minutes before Katya asked me, “Why do you look like I’ve just staked you in the heart?”
I glanced over at her and swallowed. My mouth felt dry, and I wanted to believe that the only cause was thirst.
“It’s . . . rather a lot of pressure, isn’t it? To have someone see the best in you.”
Katya shrugged. “When we can’t see it ourselves, yes, but don’t worry about your best. You expect that more than Leo does.
If he weren’t serious, he wouldn’t stand up to his brothers.
Leo doesn’t dig his heels in unless something matters to him.
You matter to him, so just try not to disappoint him. ”
“I don’t want to,” I admitted, throat tight.
Katya stuck her bottom lip out. “Well, then you should accept what he offers you, because he’ll be disappointed if you don’t.”
Wonderful. Now I had another angle to come at my guilt.
Katya touched the dough I was working and waved my hands away so she could gather it up and put it in a bowl with a towel atop it.
I took the stool again and watched her cut vegetables for a while, presumably for supper, before the door opened. Leo came in, his misshapen basket dangling from his loose fingers. He heaved a sigh and dropped onto the couch.
I only turned to look at him. A shaft of sunlight still darted across the living room and kept me away.
“No luck, Lyonechka?” Katya asked.
Leo dropped his head back. “It probably doesn’t even grow around here.”
I sat up straighter on my stool. “What doesn’t?”
When he noticed I was there, Leo sat up and leaned over his knees. A smile appeared on his face that made something in my chest jump.
“It’s a plant. It grew in Russia—poisonous to humans, but it helped dull pain for the werewolves in our old pack.”
I swallowed, and my throat was like sandpaper. “Purple flowers?”
He perked up, nodding. “I thought it might help Henry—that’s Cash’s dad. It’s pretty uncommon for a werewolf to have lingering pain like that, but he lost his leg. I thought it could help him.”
If it was the plant I was thinking of, I was . . . intimately familiar. It had grown in Ivan’s night-blooming garden, and more than once, I’d dragged my haggard body to suck on its stem the same way I sucked down those voles in the woods, chewing and hoping to feel better.
“I can’t find it anywhere,” Leo admitted. “I don’t know why I thought it’d be so simple, like it’d grow here just because that’d be convenient.”
I felt Katya’s eyes on me. This was it, that hope for the best that kept Leo going.
I could keep my suspicions to myself, not tell him what I knew, tuck those memories away and try to forget them, but Leo kept hoping. If I wanted to show him my best, I might not have another opportunity to do it.
“It’s a rare variant of nightshade and, ah, it blooms at night,” I said. “If you were looking for blossoms in the afternoon, you wouldn’t have seen it.”
“At night?” Leo’s eye lit up, and heavens, it was so tempting to tell him not to get his hopes up too much. I wasn’t even sure if it grew nearby, but I thought I’d seen some of the blossoms drying in the coven house once. It’d been years ago. “Could it grow here?”
I shrugged. “It likes the cold, so maybe. I could . . . I’d help you look for it, if you wanted to go out again?”
Leo beamed at me. “Really? Yeah! That’d be great. When the sun’s down, I mean.”
Katya turned away from the vegetables. “I’ll make extra then, so you don’t miss dinner.”
And just like that, Katya was sending her son out at night with a vampire.
This pack might be insane.
Well, except for Viktor.