The Wolf Came on Christmas (Johanna and Alexander) novel Chapter 10

apter 10

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I was captivated by the gesture, my mouth dry with shock. His hands were exactly like any man’s hands-I had already seen them before. Of course: he had five fingers, fairly normal; but covered in short white fur (at that moment brownish from dried blood) and with yellowish claws, short and fine, hard-looking, sharp. I couldn’t help noticing all those details, because deep down I was afraid

he intended to use those nails on me and tear me to shreds.

It was confusing: part of me wanted to scream like a madwoman, jump out the window, get to the

jeep and escape at full speed; and the other part tried to tell me the best thing was not to move,

and not to look him in the eyes. Those deep, calculating eyes. Despite the wolfish features, there

was something very human in the air of his expression.

Too human.

And where was all the calm, the confidence I had felt until then?

I have no idea why I got so scared, if up to that point I had been convinced I could deal with it. I started trembling more, giving myself away. Surely the smell of my fear was disgusting both of them; Andre looked nervous and began to whimper again in his particular canine language. I don’t

know how long I stood there.

Until he spoke, and that proof of civilization was enough to chase away a good part of my fears:

“Don’t be afraid, please. I’m not going to hurt you,” he told me calmly.

He pronounced the words with astonishing clarity,ke the boy, and with a Russian accent his son didn’t have. And his voice-it was so deep and hollow! It almost sounded as if it were altered on purpose; a growl from beyond the grave, practically But he barely moved his lips and jaws to speak, so I’m sure it all came out of that muzzle.

I could swear I closed my eyes with a flinch when I heard him, but I don’t know if I screamed or not. I hope I didn’t.

“…I… forgive me, it’s just that…” I stammered.

“I understand. You don’t have to explain anything. But you have to believe me when I tell you I’m not going to do you any harm,” he insisted, and I closed my eyes again while I listened. It was a very dominant, firm voice, that immediately sank deep into my emotions. “You saved my children’s life and mine, when you could have smashed my head with a shovel, taking advantage of the fact that I was passed out. You could have killed all three of us-it was your choice. And you chose to help us. I respect that.”

I felt a nauseating horror when I heard him even mention that I had been free to kill them and didn’t. Even though he was some kind of beast and it was obvious English wasn’t his native language, he had a lot of education when he spoke and he used strong words; but it offended me

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deeply that he believed someone would have the heart to kill a baby.

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Well, maybe someone else in my place wouldn’t have hesitated to kill them, or to look for someone who could. Or would have captured them to sell them or display them as freaks, film them and upload the video to YouTube and create a scandal. My imagination began to deliriously spiral just thinking about the possibilities. Definitely, Alexander passing out on my land and me finding them. was the best thing that could have happened to them.

I think that’s why we were there, in that crucial moment.

Because I-and not someone else-was the one who found them and gave them shelter. Because I chose to help.

That relaxed me a little; I felt more comfortable. I could stand better, peel my back off the door. I still didn’t dare look too much at the werewolf’s face-not because he scared me, but because I didn’t want to stand there staring at him like an idiot. The repulsion and the curious fascination were battling in a very even fight inside my head.

“How could I? It was freezing, the girl was crying… I couldn’t leave you there,” I whispered.

“Even so, you could have run to get the police. Or an axe. It could have happened,” he insisted.

I nodded. That had already been made clear to all of us.

I heard a whine and lifted my gaze instinctively. Sasha was getting impatient, waving her fists over the edge of the blanket with angry gestures. She must have been hungry, and this time I had a way to feed her until she was satisfied. I reacted immediately to the baby’s crying when she began to complain more angrily and express her discomfort with sharp screams.

Her father looked at her right away, flattening his ears in an anguished gesture, and I suppose he stroked her little face with his nose. I couldn’t see much because the colorful blanket blocked my

view of the little one’s face. I think he licked her skin, but the movement was so subtle I couldn’t make it out, though I was extremely impressed and didn’t take my eyes off anything the big werewolf did. The girl calmed down a little when she felt her father close, and stretched her little arm toward his muzzle. The tiny fingers opened like a star to touch his snout over the whiskers.

The calm didn’t last too long; then Sasha started moving again and letting out little shrieks.

“I have food for her. I can feed her if you’ll allow me sir…” I began, encouraging him to tell me his full name.

“Alejandro. Alejandro Baryshnikov.”

That answer, so foolish and rushed, made me raise an eyebrow with some irritation.

“Baryshnikov? Like the ballet dancer?” I said. “Seriously?” He only stared at me, as if daring me to guess whether it was his real name or not, I assumed it wasn’t, but what did I care, in the end? I

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A growl rumbled in his throat as he spoke.

Surprised, I opened my eyes and mouth wide, and after a few seconds I could answer:

“Excuse me-my price?”

Clars

“Yes,” he nodded, and took a step toward me, a step I backed away from at the same time. “I want you to tell me what your price is for keeping your mouth shut about us. Say your number. If you can lend me a computer with internet, I will make the arrangements right now.”

I slowly shook my head because I didn’t understand anything. It’s not every day a werewolf comes out and delivers a line from a mafia movie.

“I don’t understand. What does this mean?” I insisted, lost.

“I think it’s more than clear that you can’t disclose what you’re seeing, right?”

He narrowed his eyes again in a threatening way that left me cold. I couldn’t answer him, because I still hadn’t finished reacting. Had I already mentioned that everything was getting stranger and stranger at times? Of course. He hinted at it; surely he was a very rich man. That only made my curiosity flare even more, and immediately a thousand and one questions formed in my head again. Who could he be in his human life? Where did he come from? Sure, he could be Russian, but Andre spoke like an American. I couldn’t imagine it; didn’t even have a faint suspicion. In some strange way, the situation was tangling tighter and tighter around me, and I liked it less and less.

…And what if that man-beast or whatever he was-was mafia?

Oh, perfect, because that did sound insane: the Russian mafia werewolf. Hilarious.

They had shot him, however. He had enemies even in his animal form. The whole matter began to

disgust me quite a lot and take on a new dimension without me noticing; there was so much there I hadn’t considered. A part of me became powerfully irritated-I wanted to recover the peace and

silence of my small portion of forest, and that werewolf with his proposition wasn’t helping at all.

Anyway, I couldn’t go on as if nothing had happened anymore. Not after that.

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