Page 1 of Crimson Oath (The Firebird and the Wolf #2)

Oleg

T he vampire walked up the hill, bathing in the full moonlight and enjoying the crisp ocean breeze that whipped off the Black Sea.

It was spring in the small village on the Crimea, and while war had touched many of the larger towns and cities, in this isolated hamlet, fruit trees were in bloom and pushing flowers, bright yellow mustard dotted the roadside, and lavender fields filled the air with their unmistakable scent.

The vampire carried a gift for his quarry. He wasn’t a barbarian, after all. She would give him the information he was after, and she likely wouldn’t remember a thing afterward.

And if she did…

Well, he would deal with that eventuality when it occurred.

Oleg Sokolov hadn’t become the vampire lord of the Kievan Rus by accident. He didn’t take chances, but he didn’t borrow trouble either. One middle-aged human was not a threat to him, which was why his chief boyar and the rest of his security were waiting at the paved road.

He walked past a wooden barn and up to an old farmhouse with a fresh coat of paint. The shutters were decorated with bright red flowers, and wood trim showed the evidence of fresh repair. The garden was planted, and green heads of lettuce were already springing up in the raised beds.

A newly built dovecote sat next to the house, sheltered by a high fence and protected from the foxes and martens by a dense screen.

Before Oleg could put his hand on the gate, a low, rumbling growl alerted him to the presence of a dog.

A massive shepherd dog of indeterminate heritage crawled out from under the porch and slowly walked toward him. He was three foot at the shoulder with a black face and smoke-grey fur.

“Hmm.” Oleg lifted his chin. “No one ever accused the Vorona women of being careless.” He met the dog’s eyes. “Nice to meet you, sobaka.”

The dog curled his black lip before a thunderous bark broke the shadowy stillness and quieted the burbling coos of the pigeons in the cote.

Oleg raised an eyebrow at the barking dog. “Good. You have alerted your mistress.” He stepped back and lowered his hand from the gate. “Very well, I will wait here.”

It only took moments for the door to open, and the familiar sound of a shotgun being cocked met his ears.

The dog walked to the porch steps and sat, quieting his growl when his mistress shushed him.

“I expected one of you weeks ago,” a voice called from the dark house. “You’re slow.”

Oleg lifted his eyes to the shining barrel of the shotgun and nodded. “We wanted to give you time to settle in.”

Anna Asanova stepped out from the shadow of the doorway and onto the porch, the shotgun pointed at Oleg’s chest. “I’m settled. What do you want?”

“What do you think I want?”

“I don’t know where she is.”

“Are you telling me Tatyana hasn’t made contact with her own mother?” Oleg shook his head. “I don’t believe you.” He’d also been tracking her mobile phone usage. Anna was getting calls from someone in Georgia, but he couldn’t be sure it was his prey.

“I didn’t say she hasn’t been in touch. I said I don’t know where she is.”

Oleg shrugged. “You know that gun will not kill me.”

“I’ve been told you can die by losing your head,” Anna said. “I’m willing to fire a few times if that’s what it takes.”

She wouldn’t be alive by the second shot, but Oleg didn’t have any desire to kill her. Not if he could help it.

He stepped forward and lifted the package in his left hand. “I brought you a cake.”

Silence.

The dog noticed the bright pink pastry box and let out a high whine. A second later, Oleg saw a drop of drool fall from his dark jowl.

“Dymka.” Anna’s disappointed tone made Oleg smile. “You glutton.”

“It’s chocolate smetannik,” Oleg continued. “I think it might be your favorite. And maybe Dymka’s too.” He put his hand on the gate, and this time Dymka stepped forward but didn’t growl. His eyes were fixed on the pink box.

“Stoyat!” Anna barked, and the dog started growling again.

“Anna,” Oleg warned. “We both know I could have come here with a dozen vampires if I wanted to harm you. All I want is to talk. I’m worried about her.”

“Why?”

Oleg put his hand on the latch for the gate, and Dymka started barking again.

The dog’s hackles went up, but Oleg kept his eyes fixed on Anna.

“Your daughter became a vampire because of me. Because my people did not protect her. She may not technically be under my aegis, but that doesn’t mean I am indifferent to her. ”

Far from it, but Anna didn’t need to know that.

Tatyana Vorona haunted his thoughts. It had been over a year since she had fled from him, but her piercing blue eyes met Oleg every time he fell into day sleep. Her voice whispered in his mind. And her blood moved in his veins.

He couldn’t rid his thoughts of her, and the last thing he wanted was to hurt her mother.

Oleg wanted the woman back, and he was a very patient predator.

He lifted the pink pastry box again, and Dymka quieted, but he didn’t sit.

Anna sighed. “I am going to regret this.” She lowered the shotgun. “Oleg, you may come in.” She looked at the dog. “Dymka, priyatel.”

Immediately, the dog relaxed and walked to the gate with a wagging tail, sitting down as Oleg eased open the latch and swung the gate inward, keeping his eyes on the shepherd.

“He won’t bite you unless I tell him.” Anna waited for Oleg to approach the porch.

Oleg held his hand out and petted the dog’s black ears. He was a handsome animal with shoulders that reached Oleg’s waist and a head that nearly came to his chest. That said, once Anna had called Oleg a friend, he appeared completely relaxed.

“He’s well trained.”

“Did you come here to ask about my dog?” Anna leaned on the doorframe as Oleg approached the house. “Or did you come about my daughter?”

Oleg sat at the table, the smetannik cooling in the antiquated refrigerator and a homemade cake on the table. Anna boiled water for tea, and Dymka, ever watchful, sat in the doorway of the kitchen, staring longingly at his mistress .

There was a curled-up cat on the sofa, but the animal only opened one eye, blinked at him, then went back to sleep.

“When did you get the dog?” he asked. “You only arrived a few weeks ago, but he seems at home.”

“A neighbor of mine keeps sheep.” Anna glanced over her shoulder.

“He’d already trained this one for the animals, but as he got bigger, he wasn’t getting along with the other dogs so much.

When I told my neighbor I was looking for a farm dog, he gave me Dymka.

” Anna shrugged. “He’s good company. Keeps the foxes away from the birds. ”

Tatyana had once told him that her mother liked her birds more than most people, so protecting them was probably as much a priority as keeping vampires away.

“I have someone watching the farm,” Oleg said. “He shouldn’t bother you, but if there is danger, he’ll be able to deal with it.” He lifted the serving knife and cut a piece of cake for Anna and himself as she brought the teapot over to the cozy kitchen table.

She poured two cups, first for Oleg, then for herself.

“Spasibo,” he murmured.

“You’re welcome.” She pulled the teapot back. “Well, I don’t know if you’re actually welcome, but you’re welcome to tea.”

Oleg shrugged. “Fair enough.”

He’d been in the old farmhouse before, the first time when he had to explain the immortal world to Tatyana and her mother.

Not much had changed, but the house was a little less worn.

A little more secure. There were a few new windows, and he suspected she’d had insulation added, because the interior was warm even though the night was cold.

“She sends you money?”

“She sent me plenty.” Anna glanced at him as she sat. “I don’t need her money. The farm is good now, and I’m renting out our apartment in town.”

Anna Asanova was so obviously Tatyana’s mother that Oleg found it difficult not to stare at her.

She wasn’t old—in her late forties at most—but her eyes were tired, and her life had been harder than her daughter’s.

Still, the resemblance was enough that Oleg searched her face, looking for traces of the woman who had become his obsession.

“You left the country for a while.”

“Yes.” Anna blew on her tea.

“But you came back.”

“Yes.”

“Did Tatyana arrange it?”

“Did she?” Anna narrowed her eyes. “I’m not sure.”

He’d been impressed by how thoroughly the woman had disappeared. Whoever Tatyana was working with—likely the same hacker or hackers who had helped her find all the money his thieving daughter had stolen—was very, very good.

If they were willing to work with vampires, he might hire them for himself.

“Do you really want to ask me about Tatyana moving me?” Anna looked up. “Or are you worried about her like you said?”

“I am worried about her.” And he wanted to know how she’d done it, but that was secondary.

“Why are you worried?”

“The people she went to…” Oleg shrugged. “I don’t trust them.”

Tatyana had fled his territory and ended up in the court of Arosh, the ancient fire vampire who ruled quietly in the Caucasus Mountains.

While Oleg’s allies ruled the cities of the Eastern Black Sea, in the mountains they bowed to the Fire King, and no one traveled there save for those Arosh allowed.

“You may not trust them,” Anna said, “but she does.”

“So she is still there?”

Anna turned cool eyes on Oleg. “Are you asking me to snitch on my own daughter?”

“I am asking you to think about her safety.”

Anna pursed her lips. “She seems safe to me.”

“So you’ve seen her? ”

She rolled her eyes. “What do you think, Mr. Vampire?”

“I don’t want to presume. You could be communicating via carrier pigeon.”

He would never underestimate these women again.

Anna smirked. “Did you like that? That was my plan, you know.”

“I thought as much.” Tatyana had managed to slip under his nose and send her mother into hiding with nothing more than a few birds.