The Wolf Came on Christmas (Johanna and Alexander) novel Chapter 11

The question threw me off balance.

Claim

My price-he wanted to know my price. He intended to PAY for my silence. Well. He really must be a very rich man, because if the first thing he said was “name a number,” then he didn’t care about

money at all. That was the kind of thing that only happened in a movie. Who, in this world, can ask something like that without worrying in the slightest about what the answer will be?

Apparently, this “Alexander Baryshnikov.”

…Can’t we do this later? The baby is hungry.”

“No. First things first. I need to know it now,” he replied, and his tone sounded offended to me. His

fierce eyes were on me again in a threatening posture. The little girl squirmed in his arms, and

Andre whined louder. “Just name a number, Johanna.”

Hearing him say my name was even more terrifying in that situation. Something in my stomach

vibrated, and my insides lurched, turning into cold all over again. It wasn’t just his voice, so deep

and dark; it was the tone, the timbre, the intention..

My eyes felt like wandering, and by chance they landed on a stain on the microwave keypad that I suddenly felt a strong urge to clean; that may have been my first truly coherent thought in quite a while. I didn’t feel well. Maybe I shouldn’t have drunk that second can of Red Bull. Maybe I shouldn’t even have drunk the first one on an almost empty stomach.

I tried to stammer something, but the microwave (didn’t even remember when I’d turned it on) beeped, and I took the little cup of hot water out. I prepared the milk and then checked the temperature on my wrist; I guessed it was fine like that. Or more or less. It didn’t seem too hot for the baby. I looked at the werewolf again, trying not to meet those too-human eyes, and I realized I would have to get close to him if I wanted Sasha to take the bottle. The idea sent a shiver through me, and I went rigid in place, with the round table piled with bags as my only shield.

That time, not even the baby’s powerful crying made me move from there. Instead, I sat down in one of the chairs, the bottle resting on my lap.

Andre calmed down a little when his father placed a hand on his head, between his ears, and gave him a few gentle pats in the way of a caress. It seemed Alexander had noticed the grocery bags, because then he gestured with his head toward the table and extended the hand that had just been petting his son, as if asking for something:

“Of course, I’m also going to pay you for all of this,” he assured me, as if he needed to make it clear. “Give me the bottle, please. And calm yourself. Nothing bad is going to happen here. If you want a few minutes to think of that number, take them. But my daughter is very hungry and she gets into a very bad mood when no one pays attention to her, so if you don’t mind…”

<

1/4

Chapter 11

Claim

He was very polite and respectful in the way he spoke, and that was deeply shocking to me at first. All very nice-but I wasn’t going to get within an inch of him. Not a chance.

“Andre, could you…?” I mumbled, exhausted, and held the bottle out to him.

The boy stared at me for a moment, head tilted to one side and ears drooping. Irresistibly adorable, I have to admit; but his father gave him a light push between the shoulder blades and whispered a few words in another language (Russian, I suppose) that Andre understood. He pushed up the sleeves of his coat and reached both hands toward me as he came around the table.

He took the bottle and ran back to give it to his father.

Alexander took it and immediately brought it to the baby’s mouth. He let her taste the milk first so she would accept it, until she recognized the familiar flavor and latched onto the n****e eagerly. I couldn’t stop watching, in my infinite astonishment and foggy perception, as he gently rested that black, cold nose on his daughter’s forehead and temple. She answered with little snorting sounds of happiness while swallowing greedily. My God, she really was hungry-poor thing.

Andre opened his jaws, delighted, and bounced in place.

“I thank you very much,” the werewolf turned toward me and lowered his ears a little as he studied

me; it seemed to me he eased his defensive, alert posture somewhat because somehow we had made it clear to each other that we weren’t a threat “Are you alright? You don’t look very…”

No, of course I didn’t look alright. I was sleepy, and the Red Bull had only had the opposite effect;

my eyes were closing on their own. That couldn’t be good for my system either. A fit of laughter

came over me, which I controlled by covering my mouth with my hand, and I doubled over,

overtaken by the absurdity. I no longer had coordination between my thoughts, and the drowsiness

took over my body so completely that laughter seemed like the only escape.

How did you even pronounce the number 7,445,664,321.00?

I shook my head when I was finally able to stop laughing, and I realized Alexander and his firstborn

were watching me with confusion. It seemed my early-stage shock was hard for them to

understand. I cleared my throat and proceeded to explain myself, keeping my gaze fixed on the

small portion of the living room I could see from the kitchen doorway, between the bodies of those

two wolf-creatures:

“I’m very tired, I’d like to sleep a little.”

“I imagine you haven’t slept a wink since last night, with all of this. I understand. Besides, this is

anything you want to do, Johanna, you’ll do for my children, not for me.” He paused. Since I said, nothing, he took my silence as agreement and continued: “Very well, then-where’s the bathroom?”

He spoke to my back the whole time. I forced myself to turn on my heels right then, and the room spun. Alright-yes. It was time to admit it. I urgently needed a bed. With a trembling finger I pointed upstairs.

“Up the stairs. First door on the right.”

“Thank you,” he replied, with a small nod.

“Do not go left under any circumstances. That’s my bedroom. Understood?”

“…No one has any reason to go left. Right, Andre?”

The boy made a negative gesture, shaking his muzzle side to side, and took off his coat-which I could already imagine was also soaked in that violent smell of carrion and dirty fur. He balled the garment up in his hands while looking around for somewhere to put it, until he found the laundry room entrance and went in. He came back out scratching his belly, purely pleased-maybe happy to be natural again. I wanted to smile, but I caught myself in time; this wasn’t the moment.

Instead, I leaned against the doorframe, exhausted and sighed.

“Alright. There are towels in the cabinet under the sink. The shower sometimes loses pressure, but

the water doesn’t run cold; better to use the flexible sprayer. There should be another bottle of

shampoo in the cupboard too, in case… well, in case what’s already in the soap dish isn’t enough.” I

closed my eyes for a moment, trying to remember some other detail, but it was impossible. My

neurons were already refusing to cooperate, one after another falling like dominoes. “I… I suppose

I’ll set my alarm for noon, when it’s time to make lunch.”

2

Comments

LUCK DRAW >

106

H