Lone Werewolf Duology (bxb)

27. The Bones of Contention

Every head whipped to Damir after his proclamation: Volya's, Marina's, Kramola's and even Nadezhda's.

Silence fell, save for the ramping up sound of breathing and the racing of pulse.

"No one has rights to it, except maybe science. And science..." Damir shrugged, then slouched, his face defeated. "And science is not ready."

"Damir!" The angry shout was, of course, Marina's. Her eyes flashed in the uncertain light, hair strewn across her shoulders when she yanked the hairband off the end of her braid.

"Damir!" She grabbed Damir's arm. Again. He probably had bruises on that arm.

"I know, I know." He slouched more, brushing her cheek with his fingers. "The PhD. But what is it worth to me, Rinkin, if I fake the data? They called my reconstructions a fantasy. Now I would forge history?!"

Marina's lips quivered. She was shaking from a pulse of adrenaline so heady, Volya's head spun from the second-hand exposure.

"Damir, what I'm trying to say is, you're right."

Wow. Just wow.

"You are right," she repeated again, more fiercely than before, clinging to Damir's arm. No bruises would come from that.

Damn it, he completely misinterpreted why Marina's eyes had lit up when she shouted. Maybe Liam put his finger on it. One day these two might earn happiness.

Kramola, not particularly invested in the archeological romcom in front of her, barked a laugh. "Traitor. Always knew he would turn on us."

The thought of what a werewolf could do to an archeologist, no matter how buff, spurned Volya into action. He lunged to stand on the Marina-unoccupied side of Damir.

Behind them, Nadezhda stretched on the ground to protect Yasuwa's bones. "Don't wake the snakes of the past, Kramola," she warned.

Yes, there were more ribbons than one circling through and around the bone pile. Great, more snakes. The first one was probably Ushpi, since that's what her name meant, Asp, but where did the extras come from? Did they nest there or something?

Eh, forget the mystical snakes. Kramola was the bigger threat than any reptile. She loomed super-real, rocked from heel to toe, measuring their trio up and down. Or foursome, if he counted Nadezhda in the backseat. He could count on Nadezhda in a pinch, right? Judging by the twist of Kramola's lips, they received a poor evaluation.

"You're few against many," Kramola concluded.

"Your command of basic arithmetic is stunning," Volya blurted out.

Damir made a motion with his right arm, like he was practicing an extra-wide breaststroke on dry land, to move Marina behind his back. With his left hand, he extracted a handgun from a holster hidden somewhere underneath his shirt and waved it in the air with a practiced motion.

"Back off, bitch."

Crap. And here Volya had thought they'd just trade a few jokes and be on their merry way.

His lack of surprise that an archeologist packed a gun rivaled only his surprise that this trip was finally turning into one of Indiana Jones' adventures.

Kramola eyed the piece with disdain. "You are still outnumbered."

They were. The noises coming from the tunnel confirmed that the reinforcements were trickling in for Kramola.

Volya chewed his lips. "Please, sister, step down. I had seen so much bloodshed in my visions, and all it brought was suffering."

Kramola's smile chilled him to the core. "How much joy did you find in peace, young brother? When you were isolated? When you were starving?"