The Human Among Wolves (Aurora) novel Chapter 395

Chapter 395

He walked to the desk, turning the laptop toward himself and pulling up a new window.

Profiles filled the screen.

Faces.

Addresses.

Known associates.

1 stood up slowly from the couch, stepping behind him to look.

“Start with the ones still in the country,” I said. “Anyone who hasn’t had time to move their purchase yet.”

He nodded.

“And the others?” he asked.

I stared at the screen for a long moment before answering.

“We hunt them.”

The heater rattled again.

Outside the motel window, snow fell quietly over the frozen streets of the Russian city.

And somewhere out there-

girls were still waiting to be saved.

I leaned forward over the desk, the pale glow of the laptop illuminating the dim motel room. Files, surveillance captures, and names blurred together on the screen, an endless stream of men who had walked into that auction hall with the intention of buying living beings as if they were tare artifacts.

Most of them were already gone.

Gone across borders. Gone into territories where retrieving the girls would require planning, time, leverage

But one name caught my attention.

My finger tapped the screen once, stopping the scroll

“Lazarus Sidorov,” I murmured, reading the name slowly

The profile expanded immediately.

Photograph. Financial records Property ownership. Known assosiates

Species: Vampire.

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Old bloodline too, judging by the insignia tattooed faintly along his collarbone in the photograph. One of the Eastern houses that had survived the last

century by staying quiet and rich enough to avoid the wars.

I tapped the screen again where his name appeared.

“He’s still in the country.”

My man, Viktor, leaned slightly over the desk, scanning the file again.

“Yes,” he confirmed after a moment. “He hasn’t crossed the border yet.”

A small, cold satisfaction settled somewhere behind my ribs.

Good.

“Who did he buy?” I asked.

Viktor scrolled further down the file until the auction records appeared.

“Anastasia Mikhailova,” he said.

The name pulled up another photograph.

She looked young.

Early twenties at most. Long copper-red, pale skin, sharp grey eyes that held a stubborn kind of defiance even in the poorly lit auction photograph.

“Human,” Viktor added, glancing at the species classification on the file. “But not an ordinary one.”

I looked back at the screen.

“Explain.”

“She was raised by a coven of witches,” Viktor said, reading through the notes. “Apparently they found her when she was a child and kept her within the coven for years. Some reports suggest prolonged exposure to magic can make humans… valuable.”

Valuable.

The word made my stomach turn.

In that world, valuable didn’t mean protected.

1

It meant expensive.

“She was sold for five million,” Viktor continued quietly. “One of the highest prices of the night after Aurora,”

My gaze lingered on the girl’s photograph for a long moment.

Aurora’s voice echoed faintly in my head.

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The other girls… we need to save them.

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Even after everything she had endured-being kidnapped, drugged, locked in a cell, auctioned like an object-the first thing she had asked about wasn’t

revenge.

It had been them.

The girls left behind.

My finger tapped Anastasia’s picture once.

“We hunt him first.”

Viktor didn’t argue. He simply nodded and began pulling up additional data.

“Sidorov owns several properties here,” he said as he worked. “Two apartments in Moscow, one countryside estate outside the city, and a warehouse

registered under one of his holding companies.”

“Where is he now?”

“That’s the problem.”

He rotated the laptop slightly so I could see the surveillance feeds he’d accessed.

Traffic cameras.

Security footage.

Vehicle tracking data.

“He moves constantly,” Viktor explained. “Different vehicles, different routes, private security teams rotating every few hours.”

Smart.

Paranoid men tended to stay alive longer.

But paranoia only delayed the inevitable.

I leaned slightly closer to the screen, scanning through the timestamps.

“There,” I said quietly, tapping one of the images.

A black armored SUV appeared on the screen.

Timestamp: three hours ago.

“Track that vehicle.”

Viktor ran the plate through the system and opened another series of camera coptures.

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“It left the countryside estate earlier tonight,” he confirmed. “Entered Moscow shortly after midnight.”

“Where did it stop?”

More images appeared.

Another timestamp.

Another camera.

“It entered an underground parking garage in the Arbat district,” Viktor said. “Private residential tower. Only twelve apartments in the building.”

Of course.

Wealthy men liked privacy.

I studied the security overview displayed on the screen.

Cameras.

Controlled entry points.

Private guards.

“How many?” I asked.

“Four at the main entrance,” Viktor replied. “Two in the underground garage. Possibly more inside.”

“That’s manageable.”

Viktor glanced up at me.

“You’re not suggesting we wait.”

“No.”

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