Heidi Ramanov sat in a wooden chair directly across from him, weeping softly, a rosary clutched in her hand.
Hans faced three men, a map spread between them on a table.
“You’re wrong, Hans. You were wrong about Noelle,” Mrs. Romanov sobbed. “You’ve gone crazy and you’ve brought in these killers. My God, you have murdered an innocent girl, a new mother. Your soul is lost.”
“Shut up, old woman,” Hans shouted rudely, his face a mask of fanaticism. He blazed with it, a crusader fighting a holy war. “I know what I saw.” He crossed himself, his eyes darting left and right as a curious shadow like that of a winged creature seemed to pass over the shack.
For a moment everyone in the room went quiet. Mikhail could taste their fear, hear the sudden frantic pounding of their hearts. Inside the house, Hans had hung wreaths of garlic at every window and over the doors. He stood up slowly, licking suddenly dry lips, grabbing at the cross hanging around his neck and moving to a window to assure himself the wreath was in place. “What about that? That shadow just now? You all still think I made a mistake because we found her in a bed and not sleeping in the ground?”
“There was nothing, no dirt, no protections,” a dark-haired foreigner said reluctantly. Mikhail recognized the man’s spoor. Assassin. One from the inn. Inside the rodent, the beast unsheathed its claws and flexed. They had murdered Noelle without even being certain she was what they sought.
“I know what I saw, Eugene,” Hans declared. “After Heidi left, the woman began to lose blood. I had arrived to walk Heidi home because the woods are dangerous. I was going to tell the husband I would bring Heidi back to help. He was very agitated and did not see me as I looked in. I saw it with my own eyes. She drank so much, he was weak and pale. I got out of there and contacted you immediately.”
Eugene nodded his head. “You did the right thing. I came as soon as I could and brought the others. If they’ve learned a way to whelp, we’ll be overrun with the devils.”
The largest man in the room stirred uncomfortably. “I’ve never heard of a vampire breeding. They kill the living to enlarge their ranks. They sleep in the ground and guard their lairs. You acted before we could investigate this thoroughly.”
“Kurt,” Eugene protested, “we saw the opportunity and we took it. And how come her body just disappeared? After we did it, we ran. The husband and child have not been seen since. We know the woman is dead—we killed her—yet there is no hue and cry over her death.”
“We must find the husband and child,” Hans decreed. “And any others; we must stamp them out.” He peered nervously out the warped glass into the night. He let out a low exclamation of alarm. “Look, Eugene—a wolf. That damn Dubrinsky protects them on his land. Someday they’re going to overrun our village and make off with the children.” He reached down for the old rifle propped against the wall.
Eugene jumped up. “Wait, Hans! Are you certain it’s a wolf? A real wolf? Why would a wolf be out of the woods and staring at your house?”
“Who is this Dubrinsky who keeps wolves?” Kurt demanded.
“He is of the Church!” Heidi hissed, shocked at the implication. “He is a good man, in church every Sunday. Father Hummer is one of his dearest friends. They often eat supper together and play chess. I have seen this with my own eyes.”
Hans waved her testimony aside. “Dubrinsky is the devil himself. See it out there, the wolf slinking in the bushes, watching the house?”
“I tell you, that’s not natural.” Eugene lowered his voice. “It’s one of them.”
“They couldn’t know it was us,” Hans denied, but he betrayed his fear with his trembling hands. He lifted the rifle to his shoulder.
“You’ll have to get it with the first shot, Hans,” Eugene warned.
The rodent raced across the floor into the bedroom and squeezed through the small crack. Mikhail burst from the rodent’s body, his mind reaching out into the night with a warning, shape-shifting as he ran, becoming a huge black wolf with burning eyes of vengeance.