Page 21 of Nightshade

Or maybe I was getting soft, not wanting to take cold baths after so many years of the luxury of living in a warmer climate, with a roof always over my head. It was a little odd to think of Wildwood life as luxurious after witnessing city life firsthand, but I’d never lived like a city wolf, with twenty-four-hour hot running water and electricity and who even knew what else. Maybe they had heated floors so their toes didn’t get cold in the winter.

Some of us just, you know, wore socks. That their mothers made.

Mama’s socks were the best.

I, for one, pitied anyone who didn’t have socks made by my Mama.

I was just coming up after dunking my head in the water to rinse the grime off my scalp, when I heard voices. They didn’t set off any internal alarms, because they were voices I knew as well as my own: Viktor and Aleks.

“I think it’s a good idea,” Viktor was saying, and they were clearly approaching, given the way it increased in volume as he went on. They were also speaking in Russian, as they tended to when speaking privately. I always wondered if they wished I didn’t speak the language, so they’d have even more privacy. “I know working with Fyse means you have to swallow your pride, but it’ll be good for the pack to have the panels, and if he’s willing to help, it doesn’t matter why.”

The solar panels. It had been a subject of debate since Evie had brought it up when we’d gotten back. Somehow, even though she’d spent less time out of pack lands than almost anyone else who came back, Evie seemed to have learned more about the outside world than any of us. I thought it might have something to do with the fancy phone that had arrived for her after we’d returned, from one of the Crescent wolves. It wasn’t just a phone. It was like a tiny computer, and got a good internet connection even out in the woods.

There was also a fancy single solar panel that had come with it, to be sure she could keep it charged.

Some of the older wolves, and frankly, the more prideful ones, thought it was all a waste of time and energy, and insisted we didn’t need anything from the Crescent wolves. Me? I was with Viktor on this one. Did we need fancy things because the Crescent wolves pitied us? No, of course not. But also, why turn them down? The internet on her phone let Evie learn amazing things and share them with us. The electricity the solar panel provided meant that no one’s phone ever died. Cash even had a plan for the solar panels that meant we might be able to have hot running water in the new houses year-round. No more cold baths in the winter, or heating and carrying giant pots of water to keep from taking cold baths.

Who cared if it came from the Crescent wolves? They had plenty, and if they were inclined to share, why say no? Nice things were . . . well, nice.

Mama always said it was the pride Aleks had inherited from his father and learned from his grandfather, and that it wasn’t necessary, but it was hard to ignore once you had it. The only pride I’d ever had had come from my personal accomplishments, relatively few though they’d been. I certainly didn’t see a reason to give things up for it. It wasn’t like these items were coming from Grant. There was no reason to keep the Crescent wolves out of our lives.

Personally, I thought they were aces, because the main person they’d been sending things to was Evie. It was both smart—a good way to convince us to accept those things—and well, it was for Evie. Who would ever say Evie didn’t deserve good things? Only someone who wanted me to gut them like I had Barry.

She was like the kid sister we’d never had, and I would commit atrocities to make her happy. I kind of had. No hesitation.

Aleks gave a deep sigh, right as they came out of the trees, and nodded. “I suppose. It would be good for the others, to be able to have heating in the winter. Mama wants an electric stove. Says they hold their temperature more closely so she’d be able to make things she can’t make with a wood fire.”

Viktor snorted and shook his head. “Trust Mama to worry most about what she can do for other people with it. She wants to bake American-style cakes.”

Me, I thought cake was pretty great, so I was for it.

Viktor looked up at me, clearly having known I was there all along, and like he’d read my mind, he gave a tiny smirk. “Probably for you, mostly.”

I scoffed at that. “If Mama could bake cakes, every person in the pack would start getting a birthday cake.” Then I winced at the idea, because making buttercream frosting was a ton of work, and no doubt Mama would want my help with it. Making it every week sounded like a lot.

Aleks rolled his shoulders, as though thinking the same thing as me, then sighed again and shrugged. “If it would make Mama happy, I suppose it would be worth it.” He pulled an orange out of his pocket and looked at it a moment, scrunching up his nose.

Viktor made the same face, only more disgusted. “Why would the pack use any of the grocery money on such a thing?”

“American oranges are sweet,” I said, halfheartedly. It was true, they were. They were as sweet as sugar. But I could never get past the look of the thing, and the memory of choking down Russian oranges because Mama said they were healthy.

Fortunately, just then, movement in the trees caught my eye, and I smiled. “You can give it to Drew.”

The raccoon came toddling out of the underbrush as though summoned by the suggestion someone give him something, and without hesitation, Aleks tossed the orange over in front of him. He lit up like he’d just been offered the finest thing that existed, grabbed it with one arm, hugging it tight to his chest, and rushed over to the riverbank to start washing it.

We all watched in amusement, but at least someone would get pleasure out of the thing. Whatever Mama said, we could get our vitamins elsewhere. Tomatoes had vitamin C, right? We wouldn’t die of scurvy just because oranges were disgusting.

“Were you running the perimeter earlier?” Viktor asked me as they started to strip, also clearly having come to bathe. He watched me closely as he asked. Like he expected to catch me out on something.

So I nodded, because it wasn’t like there was a reason to lie about it. Also, maybe . . . “I’ve been worried about the witches. I know they haven’t come back, but . . . they will, don’t you think?”

Viktor’s face did a strange thing, lifting into something that looked annoyed for a moment, but I wasn’t sure who he might be annoyed at. The witches, for being disgusting? Or me, for bringing them up at all?

Aleks waded into the river, staring off into space, but clearly considering what I’d said. “They will,” he answered finally. “I don’t know what it is they think we can give them, but they were obsessed with the witchwolf. They want him.”

“Or one like him,” Viktor suggested. “He’s not the only witchwolf ever. So maybe they just want one of their own.”

“You think that’s why they, um”—I looked away, swallowing hard, not wanting to remind Aleks of the way Grant had basically sold his body to the witches for years.