Sarwat Chadda - Dark Goddess

“Then we’d better get her. Now.”

Koshchey’s fist tightened. “This is a delicate operation, Lady SanGreal. I think it best you let my men handle it.”

Ivan stood at the top of the stairs. “Koshchey!” he shouted. “Why did you not inform me of this?”

The prince wore his own combat armor and had his utility belt slung over his shoulder. He marched up to them and dropped the belt onto the table, banging the wooden surface hard with the holstered pistol.

For a second a blaze of rage crossed Koshchey’s face. Only Billi saw it, but his face went livid red. Then he puffed out his cheeks and rotated on his heels to face the prince.

“My prince, I did not want to disturb you. Especially after last night’s unfortunate incident. It was only through the intervention of young SanGreal that you were not killed.” He put his hand on his heart. “I swore to your father that I would protect you. Leave this to me. You should wait here, where it is safe.”

That is so much bullshit. Billi kept her thoughts to herself, but Koshchey couldn’t have been more patronizing. Everything he said was intended to undermine Ivan. Ivan’s jaw went rigid. He buckled on his belt, and his hand rested on the pistol a moment longer than necessary. Billi noticed and so did Koshchey.

“Thank you for your concern, Koshchey.” Ivan stared at one of the men, and he stepped away from the table. “But I can decide what is best for me.”

Ouch.

The rivalry between them bubbled just below the surface, but Billi could see that it would erupt, sooner rather than later.

“Tsarevich, until you are a man, upon your father’s wishes, I am afraid it is my duty to lead. But by all means come, look.”

Ivan missed the cold contempt in the response; his attention was on what was in front of him, the floor plans of a block of flats. Koshchey stood behind him.

That’s where Ivan should be keeping his attention. On his back.

“A Khrushchev block?” asked Ivan.

“What’s that?” Billi peered at the drawings. The yellowed paper was held together with tape. The floor plans showed a five-story building with four separate staircases. Four apartments ran off the landings on each floor. Each apartment was identical to the next.

Ivan drew his finger along the outline of the building. “They were built in the sixties. There are thousands of them all over Moscow, all built exactly the same way.”

Gwaine and Lance appeared. Withoutaword they came up and joined them.

Ivan stood up and looked around. “Four teams. Four men per team.”

Koshchey tapped the staircases on the drawings. “One team per staircase. We will sweep up the building and clear each floor.” He looked up at the clock-just after seven. “The sun will be up in an hour.”

Ivan nodded. “And you, Koshchey?”

He laughed. “Tsarevich, can you see me creeping up those steps? I doubt I could fit through the front door. Andrei will lead the attack.”

Ivan turned to the Templars. “There are three of you. I suggest that you each go with a different squad. You know what this girl looks like.”

“Fair enough.”

“Tsarevich, that is not wise.” Koshchey put his hands on the drawings as he leaned over toward Ivan. “The Bogatyrs are trained for this-the Templars are not. They could get in the way.”

How dare he? What the Templars didn’t know about fighting the Unholy wasn’t worth knowing. Billi was about to tell him exactly that when she caught a warning glare from Gwaine, so she shut her mouth. No point starting an argument with their allies.

Ivan paused, tapping the handle of his pistol. “Then perhaps it would be best if you remained behind. Mistakes can happen.”

Billi shook her head. “Forget it. We’re coming.”

“Billi, this will be dangerous.”

“Damn right. All the more reason I come and watch your back.”

“Fine. Just stay out of the way. Understood?”

“Understood, Tsarevich.”

Ivan opened his mouth to reply, well aware of Billi’s not-quite-respectful tone, but he let it pass.

Koshchey tapped his watch. “We leave in ten minutes.”

Lance handed Billi her armor. The Kevlar jacket went on like a waistcoat and zipped up high. The collar covered her to her chin, but was wide enough to allow Billi to turn her head. The jacket had been modified to hold Billi’s katar and kukri; each sat comfortably when strapped in. Then Lance grinned as he showed Billi a slim-bladed straight-sword, similar in length to Percy’s wakizashi. This he slid into a sheath clipped to her back.

Billi promised herself an outfit just like this for her next birthday.

Gwaine came over. “Leave the rough stuff to the Russians. If they’re right and this place is crawling with Polenitsy, they won’t give Vasilisa up without a fight. Not that I’m complaining.”

“We get her alive, understand?” said Billi. This was their chance, and she wanted everyone to be of the same mind. Vasilisa could be saved.

“I don’t need you to tell me my job, squire,” was Gwaine’s reply.

Billi glanced at Lance, who nodded. “We save the petite fille.”

They were set.

“Where’s Elaine?” Billi asked.

Lance gestured upstairs. “Koshchey showed her the Bogatyrs’ library. It is like she’s gone to researcher heaven. Maybe she might find something on Baba Yaga, oui?”

As Lance and Gwaine discussed tactics, Billi went into the corner of the lobby and took out her mobile.

“Dad. You there?”

The line crackled, but then she heard her father’s familiar voice.

“Billi?”

“Dad? We found her.” She couldn’t keep the excitement from her voice. “You sure? How?”

“The Bogatyrs found her. She’s being held not far from here by the Polenitsy. We’re heading over there right now.”

“I don’t need to tell you to be careful, do I?”

Billi looked around at the soldiers armed to the teeth. There was enough firepower here to conquer a small country. “I think we’ve got that covered.”

“Praise be to God,” said Arthur. “We’ve drawn a blank here.”

“Did you find Vasilisa’s granny?”

“She’s gone into hiding. I suspect the Polenitsy have come for her. We’re still looking, but Karelia’s a big place. But we’ve picked up some interesting legends about Baba Yaga.”

“Like what?” Billi’s attention was pricked.

“Baba Yaga vanished a hundred years ago. There were no more hunts for Spring Children-the werewolves just stopped. The local wise women say that’s because Baba Yaga was hurt in the early twentieth century, and went to sleep deep in the earth to recover. Now she’s back and she’s hungry. That’s why the Polenitsy have returned.”

“How was she injured?”

“Wish I knew.” Arthur coughed. “You just get Vasilisa to Jerusalem.”

“Bilqis.” Lance came up. “They are waiting.”

“Dad…”

“I heard.” Arthur’s tone deepened. “Give them hell.”

“Come,” Ivan said to Billi as they stepped out of the elevator into the parking garage. “You will stick close to me, Dimitri, and Yuri.” Another Bogatyr fell into step with them. Two beady black eyes glistened from beneath a thick, bushy eyebrow that ran straight across from ear to ear. Tattoos covered his arms, neck, and ears. His tattoos had tattoos.

“Pleased to meet you,” said Billi.

Yuri smiled, exposing a fortune in gold teeth.

A silver BMW growled as it crept along the snow-covered drive, leading a line of big shiny four-by-fours. Billi and Ivan took this car, with Yuri up front with Dimitri. Lance and Gwaine took the next.

The car slipped out onto a main road. Snow trucks rolled along to the road, but otherwise the traffic was pretty light. Billi settled herself into the soft leather seat.