My body threw itself back. Staggering, scrambling, the warmth leeching the further the distance. I could be sick, but my body wasn’t willing to give up the meal.
Her identity was possibly horribly distorted, yet I had the overwhelming feeling that I was forgetting. Her recognition at the tip of my tongue, my mind, but it escaped me when I got too close. I couldn’t tell if this was a way of protecting my psyche or a bad case of déjà vu.
Her chest cavity was broken open.
Could that have been my doing? No, an animal must have done that.
The wind called me awake, my body heat fading as fast as the memory of the dream itself.
The body melted into the landscape, the blood bleaching until it matched the pure midnight snow.
I looked down at my feet, the edges of the skin red from the freeze.
I knew this field.
I turned around; the old farmhouse stood before me. Within the home was a family, a new one. They were in the living room. I could see their vague shadows puppeteering in front of the fire.
Somehow, a deep loneliness took root. The loneliness extended past physicality, a certain yearning for something familiar. As quiet as a shadow, I returned to the Nest.
43
THE FIXER
“How do you shoot anything like that?” I scoffed. “You’ll dislocate your shoulder.”
Alina frowned and brought her shoulder forward into the butt of the rifle, staring down the barrel. Her eyes were a bit sullen. It was more than just ill-rest.
“Better.” I puffed the cigar. “Now shoot. Any animal would have run, found a mate, and had several spawn by now. You can’t be this slow.”
“Enough commentary.” She squeezed one eye shut before she pulled the trigger, leaving a puff of dust in a far-off tree. We had drawn some targets for practice, but she wasn’t hitting many. For her sake, I hoped she was better with a blade.
“You should consider dressing warmer; you’ll get sick. Can’t have our very own Annie Oakley dying on us.”
“What did I say about commentary?”
“Did you expect me to listen? Adorable,” I laughed, taking off my ushanka hat and plopping it on her head. The brown fur fell over her eyes slightly.
“You almost look like a real American frontiersman,Dorogusha.”
“Do you forget I am the one with the gun?”
“I would be worried if you could aim.”
She clicked her tongue in disapproval before returning her attention to the target.
“Do you have any news about this corrupted mess?” She shot another bullet, this time grazing the tree.
“There is something.” I squinted at the far-off target. “From the sources I’ve spoken to, they don’t seem to be coming from the Nests or Guilds around here. They’re clean.”
“Then where are they coming from in such big numbers?”
“They are saying there is a colony. Small town roughly four hours from here.”
“Why do they think it is them?”
“It is an entirely Vipera population, and they seem to be a bit brutish.” He took in a sharp breath of cold air. “They said speak to a man named Cormac.”
“Just . . . Cormac?”
