Lone Werewolf Duology (bxb)

4. He Who Speaks in Tongues

Liam traveled by bus. Except it wasn't an average city bus overheated to the point of its riders passing out in its dusty womb. This was a luxurious, air-conditioned affair, with the bathroom wafting lavender. Volya loved the reclining seats the most. They lured him to tilt his head back, close his eyes and stop worrying about stuff. He let his head lean against the leather, but didn't close his eyes, peering out of the window instead.

The driveway went by, then the familiar street lined with dilapidated six-story apartment buildings and the laundry flapping on the clotheslines in mockery of flags. He wouldn't see this for a while, because he was leaving. Leaving! Un-frigging-real...

More streets flashed beyond the bus's tinted windows. The houses spread out, grew shabbier, between the trees. The rail lines with a parked freight train snuggled to the road. After that, the grassy plain stretched to the horizon in all directions.

Liam reached across the aisle to pat his knee. He said something after a glance at the interpreter, whose name turned out to be Marina.

Marina leaned forward. "Liam's asking why you weren't too happy with the farewell from your friend. He seemed sweet."

The struggle over asking a virtual stranger this rather personal question reflected on her face, but professionalism won. Whatever Liam wanted to know, she had to get it for him.

Volya bit his upper lip.

Toshka's mood made a 180 degree flip just before Volya had boarded the bus. Gone were his upbeat, 'Volya, you must go! I'm so happy for you! It's your golden opportunity!' rants. Suddenly, Toshka couldn't get words out through trembling lips. He opted for a mile-wide sign of the blessing cross with a full-on triple kiss as if Volya was leaving to fight in a war or something. Volya's skin still tingled where Toshka's lips brushed his cheeks.

"I hated that Toshka treated me like I'm not coming back. Also..."

Also, this wasn't how he imagined their first kiss. They should have kissed after Volya had a chance to confess the full extent of his feelings. He'd do it away from the eavesdropping crowds. It should have been an awesome moment. Now it was ruined, but good luck explaining that to Liam.

When it became clear that Volya had clammed up, Marina dutifully interpreted what he'd chosen to say. He caught a faint sigh of relief from her before she added pointers about Russian customs.

Volya turned away from Marina's coffee-fueled efficiency, Liam's million-watt smile and English babbling. He jerked his knee from under Liam's warm hand. Why he'd tolerated Liam's touch for this long was a mystery to him. He wasn't a touchy-feely person... except with Toshka. And Toshka's kiss was now smothered in his memory.

The seats, heated by the late afternoon sun, gave out the new leather smell. The dust, kicked up by the wheels, filtered inside to tickle his nostrils. The driver's tuneless humming drifted around the bus.

"Volya?"

The floral scent and the nails sharp enough to dig through the jeans told him it was Marina who tapped his knee this time. There must have been a conspiracy to prevent him from dozing off.

"Marina ah..." he chewed his lip. She didn't introduce herself with her full name as he would have expected. "Marina? What's your patronymic name?"

"Just Marina," she replied, before pushing an iPad and headphones into his hands. "I want you to go through Units 1 and 2 before we get to Rostov-on-Don. I'll quiz you while we're waiting on our flight to Moscow."

This wasn't how just Marinas spoke. He needed to use her patronymic name, even if it made her feel older. Or at least her last name, so he could address her in English as Mrs. Something... or maybe Ma'am? Her manner hinted at a bigger role than an interpreter to a visiting superstar.