The Wolf Came on Christmas (Johanna and Alexander) novel Chapter 97

Chapter 97-1

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Contrary to my expectations, Nika didn’t jump on me to tear me apart for accusing her father of betraying Alexander’s trust. From the other side of the snow pile, it was Agent Aguilera’s voice (very harsh, guttural) that answered:

“We are your circle, Lai. Not your father’s.” His tone was firm, as if there were no room for doubt. “And you are my best friend, even if you’ve made mistakes. However, she’s right to mention the possibility that Hans may have left some kind of trail… what? I’m sorry, Nika, but it’s a possibility. Your father belongs to Illya’s generation and is still an active member of his Circle-old dogs generally don’t learn new tricks.” Then his voice rose, as if he were speaking to Alexander again. “I don’t want to make bad bets, but I’ll wager you ten that five minutes after I contacted him for the first time, Hans called your father-or at least your mother. They’re very close, all of them.”

“…Ten what?” Alexander asked, with a smile in his voice.

“Ten dollars. What else?”

“Deal. I’ll bet you ten that he didn’t. Hans practically cried to me.”

An ominous silence followed the mention of Hans. It surprised me that Nika didn’t say anything right away. But a moment later, she spoke:

“But you left and broke your commitment to me,” she said somewhat listlessly, when I had almost convinced myself she was deeply hurt and angry by what was being implied about her recently deceased father. “I’m sorry. I have to think like Rex-maybe my father did warn them. He respected your mother a lot, and he was very loyal to your father.”

This time Alexander answered in a very solemn tone:

“Nika, Hans knew very well-and always knew-that Richie deserves you far more than I do. What my father arranged displeased him just as much as it displeased me, even knowing the intentions Richie had and still has toward you. If your father had been that bothered by the rejection, I’m sure he would have made me pay for it,” replied the exiled ‘alpha, his voice drifting into a more casual tone as he went on. “Hans would have found me eight years ago, because he knew my strategies well-he wouldn’t have tracked me from the flank. Everything I know, I learned from him… I trust that he didn’t inform my father about any of this.”

“…good point,” Rex agreed, more upbeat. “Look, Lai, my job is simply to be your ‘beta,’ not to tell you what to do. But it wouldn’t be a bad idea for you to handle your return carefully, if what you want is to go back home. You didn’t disappoint only your father.”

“I’m not worried. They can’t control me anymore,” Alexander replied even more harshly. “I

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have my own family now.”

We remained silent for a moment, until Rex’s raspy laugh came again:

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“…that’s an aphorism to say he has his own ‘pack, and according to White Wolf thinking, when a young leader forms his own ‘pack, he stops being subservient to his father,” the red wolf said, and I realized he was speaking to me. “Which implies that his Circle also stops being subservient to the old one. We have a new ‘alpha,’ a real one. And I think for his children, he’d be capable of anything.”

I

“Well, look at you speaking so well of me. And I remind you that you removed me from the position.”

“I told you it was temporary. But even these cats have exceeded what I expected from them- I think I might accept your advice,” Rex joked. “Besides, with what a good father you are, you could even give me some advice about that, you know?”

“…you got yourself a girlfriend and she’s pregnant, right?”

The red wolf hesitated, then said, stumbling:

“Yes-four weeks. Who told you? I haven’t told almost anyone.”

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It was sad-very sad. My own father was a calm man. It was hard for me to imagine something like that.

I think that in the end Alexander thought I had fallen asleep like Andre (because he didn’t speak again for quite a while), and after a moment of stillness, I heard his voice again. It sounded soft, but against my ear it came through clearer than ever, clouded by doubt:

“Tell me, guys… was what they showed on television at my funeral real? My father cried, as if he cared about my ‘death.’ Was it real, or just a performance for the cameras?”

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not. After all, they had known him in person, not me; I was missing a lot of pieces. I suppose

they knew what to expect.

I didn’t dare lift my head so Alexander wouldn’t realize I was still awake and listening, but I’m sure that there were probably tears in his eyes.

How did it feel not knowing what to think of your own father?

I knew my father was a simple man, a carpenter and furniture designer from Minneapolis, who liked hunting and never missed a Red Sox game. What kind of creature was Alexander’s father? What would he do to me if he ever found out that I knew so many details about his people? I couldn’t help feeling afraid again, but I tried to stay focused. Maybe my curiosity had signed my death sentence, and I hadn’t realized it yet.

One step at a time. First, we all had to get out of there alive.