Sarwat Chadda - Dark Goddess

Ivan put his hand on hers. “Koshchey is monitoring your phones.” He took it and switched it off. “It is standard KGB procedure.”

“And you talk about trust?” Billi snapped. The moment she said it she regretted it. Ivan was in a bad place right now and he needed her. She could see it in his eyes: his whole world teetered on the brink of destruction. Koshchey had betrayed his father. The Bogatyrs were involved in the vilest trade with the ghuls. Everything he knew was a lie.

Billi held his hand. “We’ll get through this.”

Ivan gritted his teeth, holding down the rage that was like a tidal wave inside him. “How shall we proceed?” he asked. Obviously he didn’t trust himself to keep his head, not right now.

“Act like nothing’s happened. Let’s get back to the Ministry and get Gwaine and the other Templars.” Billi walked back toward the waiting car. “Who else in the Bogatyrs can you trust? Really trust?”

Ivan pointed to his bodyguard. “Dimitri.”

“Anyone else?”

“No one for certain.”

Billi thought about it. Ivan had to come with them. A look from Ivan confirmed he knew that too. Koshchey had already tried to kill him; it was obvious now. He’d rushed off to fight that ghul , assuming the Bogatyrs were right behind him. If Billi hadn’t saved him, Ivan would have been murdered by Koshchey’s vampire, and Koshchey would have gotten rid of him without dirtying his hands. No blame. No suspicions. Sooner or later Koshchey would get rid of him, especially if he got a hint that Ivan had uncovered his trade with the ghuls . He would throw caution to the wind and there’d be a straight and simple killing.

“You’d better stick with us,” Billi said.

Ivan stopped by the car door and looked down at the pistol clipped to his belt. Billi knew exactly what he was thinking. How he wanted to take that pistol, put the barrel against Koshchey’s head and pull the trigger. “Ivan, you’ll get your chance. But we’ve got to get Vasilisa. She has to be our priority.” Ivan nodded, his honor as a Bogatyr guiding his decision.

Billi respected him even more than she had before. She touched his arm. “Don’t pack. Just find out what you can-if Koshchey has any leads he’s not sharing. We’ll call my dad on another line and plan our next step.”

“Which is?”

“Buggered if I know.” She needed a phone. “Dad was looking for Vasilisa’s grandmother. The woman knew a lot about Baba Yaga. He’s hoping she might point him in the right direction. He thinks the witch is nearby; the area’s been flooded with wolves. But it’s all just guesswork. We don’t know anything for sure.”

Billi looked up at the moon. Almost full.

“We have to stop her, Ivan.”

Ivan opened the car door and squeezed Billi’s hand.

“I will help you, Billi SanGreal.”

A crash on the motorway meant it took them almost three hours to get back to the Ministry, and Billi couldn’t think for the turmoil her emotions were in.

How could they have known that Koshchey was a monster? That the Bogatyrs had become human traffickers?

Lance had suspected Koshchey was no good, but never that the entire order had been corrupted so swiftly.

Ivan was right: Koshchey had to die.

But not today.

As they entered the lobby they passed two of the Bogatyrs, who each nodded to Ivan.

“You get Lance and Gwaine. I’ll get Elaine,” Billi murmured, glancing at the large clock above the main staircase. It was two in the morning. “I’ll meet you in the garage in ten minutes.”

Minutes later Billi banged on the library door.

“Elaine, you in there?”

Abook slammed onto the floor, and Elaine, glasses resting on her forehead, stared at Billi, rubbing her eyes.

“Where the hell have you been?” she demanded. She took hold of Billi’s sleeve and dragged her in, shutting the door behind her. “You have got to see this.”

“We don’t have time.” Billi tried to resist, but the old woman wouldn’t let her go.

Books from the Bogatyr library covered the entire floor. Old books and scrolls were scattered over a dining table. Lance was right: Elaine was in research heaven. A mattress and blanket lay on the polished wooden floor. So this was where Elaine was sleeping. Billi had guessed as much. She glanced over the endless cabinets and rows of stuffed bookshelves, then rested her eyes on a large portrait above the fireplace, and on a face she recognized.

That could be Ivan.

Tsar Nicholas II gazed at her with imperious indifference. He stood behind a chair upon which his wife, the tsarina, sat. Beside him were three young women. Billi didn’t need to guess which was Anastasia. Ivan had inherited more than just her beauty. He even stood the same way she did, straight, relaxed, regal.

Elaine grinned. “I know what happened to Baba Yaga.” She slapped her head. “Obvious, really. She’s an elementalist. Whatever affects the Earth affects her. And something did affect her-the Earth-a hundred years ago.” Elaine smacked her fist into her palm. “Right here, in Russia.”

“What, Elaine?”

Elaine began searching through the scattered books, opening and slamming them as she tried to find what she was looking for. “I’ll show you. I’ll show you…”

Billi sighed impatiently and leaned up against the table. Arms folded, she caughta glimpse of movement. A shadow moved in the gap between the bottom of the door frame and the floor. She heard a man take a deep breath, followed by the click of a catch. She grabbed Elaineand dived behindthe sofa as the door exploded open and the darkness screamed with gunfire.

BILLI THREW HER ARMS OVER HER HEAD AS SHARDS of glass from the long line of windows around her exploded like crystal shrapnel. The sofa pulsed as bullets thumped into the dense wood. The wind pulled savagely at the long curtains, and Billi felt the snow-carrying cold blast her. In a matter of seconds the world had gone to hell.

Her ears rang with the echoing gunfire that bounced back and forth off the heavy marble walls. The air carried the acrid, metallic flavor of gunpowder.

Petrified, Elaine hung on to Billi, her eyes shut tight. She shook so badly that Billi had to wrap her arms around her, even though she herself could do nothing but pray.

The echoes lasted longer than the gunfire. Snow blew in from the line of now-demolished windows, and the city beyond sparkled.

“Hello? Are you still alive?” a mocking voice boomed, deep with amusement. Koshchey.

“Of course!” shouted Billi, sounding a hell of a lot braver than she felt. “Were you shooting at us? I didn’t realize.”

Two Bogatyrs poked their guns over the sofa. One dragged Elaine out by the hair, and the other went for Billi. She slapped his hands away and stood up.

Billi casually brushed the splinters from her coat. She couldn’t let Koshchey see how frightened she was. The Bogatyrs gathered around them. The Bogatyr released his hold on Elaine, and she stood beside Billi, staring at the devastation.

Koshchey strolled into the library. His collar was loose and his shirt stained with sweat, face flushed red by some recent exertion.

There were now ten Bogatyrs in the library. They all wore casual clothing, but carried guns. Two held Ivan between them. He struggled, but the men had his arms bent behind his back.

Where were Lance and Gwaine? Koshchey glared at the portrait of the royal family and held out his hand. One of his men put a pistol in it.

Koshchey shot Tsar Nicholas between the eyes. The hole in the canvas flickered with flame, then turned into wispy smoke.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” he said.

He put another hole between Anastasia’s eyes.