Alexi pushed between us for a view just before Henry snatched the slides away. “I think it’s time for your visit. Isn’t it, Frederick?” Henry asked the guard by the door.
The man nodded. “Sure, Doc. Let’s go.”
Beyond the lab one last set of doors whispered open at the guard’s touch.
I bumped into Max, not realizing he had stopped. Ahead of me the Rusakovas had formed a more-than-human wal .
“What…?”
No one answered. The Rusakovas were transfixed by something just beyond my range of vision. I ducked down, I slid to the side, I stood on tiptoes. I couldn’t even catch a glimpse of whatever it was that held them frozen, stunned to silence, their breathing shal ow and rapid.
I final y wedged myself between Pietr and Max, stubbornly pushing forward until I could see. And I joined their ranks, quiet with heartbreak. Slipping my hand into Pietr’s, I squeezed it for reassurance. He pul ed away. But slowly.
Before us was a large glass cube. Twenty feet long and the same wide, it was a clear box designed to al ow the inhabitant no privacy. Had the creature inside been on display at some zoo I might have thought little of it, but what lived inside this cage was Pietr’s mother. In one corner of the glass house was a smal cot; in another, a few books were scattered. And in the third corner, back and to the left, was a stainless-steel toilet and sink. There was no privacy for the woman dressed in a tank top and khaki pants, her long hair an unkempt tangle of browns and reds. Sitting by the final corner, her back was to us.
“She often pretends to ignore us,” the tal er of our two escorts pointed out. “Maybe a self-defense mechanism?” He rubbed his chin, looking at the remaining Rusakovas in speculation. His eyes settled on me. “Do they ignore unpleasant things?”
“They’re ignoring you now,” I pointed out.
The escort blinked at me. He cleared his throat so he could project his voice more powerful y. “You have visitors.”
There was no reaction from Mother except to raise a single, specific finger in our direction.
Our escort laughed, and I dug in my heels and clasped Pietr’s arm against me to keep him from leaping at the man. His back unnatural y straight, he was so stiff his muscles twitched beneath my fingers. He at the man. His back unnatural y straight, he was so stiff his muscles twitched beneath my fingers. He didn’t look at me; he was far too comfortable with the anger pumping through him faster than even his blood.
“Stay calm. They’d love an excuse to lock you up, too.”
Our escort’s eyes flickered in my direction, confirming my fear. I watched the lump in Pietr’s throat slide as he swal owed. He shut his eyes for a moment. “Mother?”
She spun so quickly I didn’t see the movement, only the result. Nose pressed to the glass, head cocked to one side, and fingers splayed across the thick invisible barrier as if she would claw her way to us, she asked, “Pietr?” Her voice was scratchy, raw from disuse. Her eyes focused on Pietr just before she screamed his name like a battle cry.
He closed the distance to her in two ground-swal owing strides. His hands mirrored her own, pressed flat against the glass like the force of his wil alone could get him inside. Her lips moved, but I couldn’t hear her words. Pietr rested his forehead on the glass, his shoulders slumped, al the rage draining from his body.
Max and Catherine flanked him, Alexi close behind.
I hesitated, suddenly aware of how different I was, how much more like the scientists and guards holding her captive than her wild and graceful children. It may have been my battle, but it was not my family.
My mother was gone; theirs was alive. And a prisoner.
I bowed my head and folded my hands, determined to wait while they tried to catch up with the parent they had long thought dead.
“Jess.”
Pietr looked in my direction, signaling me over with a move of his head. My heart stopped, seeing the look on his face. I tried to keep calm. Not to run to him. To breathe.
Eyes down, I crossed the distance between us, nerves jangling, unsure of how to act around a mother who was also a werewolf. As soon as the thought formed, I realized the flaw in my logic. Pietr was a werewolf. Max was a werewolf. Catherine was, too. And most times I was quick to forget the fact. Often our shared humanity overrode our distinct differences.
Cat reached out and threw an arm around me, tugging me before the glass wal . “This is Jessie,” she said.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Their mother studied me, her lips thin, eyebrows lowered. Crow’s feet branched around her glinting turquoise eyes—what were once laugh lines ran into furrows of worry and anger. God, she was so young and yet so old.…
“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Rusakova.…”
Behind me, Max said to the guards, “We were told we’d be al owed inside.”
One guard pushed a button on the wal . An intercom buzzed, blaring a reply. “Yes. Al ow them al inside the cubicle.”
I spun out of Cat’s grasp. “No. Two in, three out,” I said, heart pounding. How hard would it be to just not unlock the door once you had al the werewolves you could want in one cel ?
Cat echoed my suggestion. “Max and I wil go in first. Then Pietr, Jessie, and Alexi.”
Their mother gave me a smile, and my heart jumped. “Cleverrr girrrl,” she said, her words equal y strong with a Russian purr and a werewolf growl.
A set of four more armed guards entered the room as a precaution. Alexi and I looked at each other.
We were doing the same thing: taking careful mental notes. Numbers, weapons, speed of response.
A code was tapped into a number pad by her door, and a guard pressed his palm onto the surface of the pad. Lights flashed and a siren purred “Red-red-red” as a seal broke and a door slid open, nearly seamless in the transparent cubicle.
Cat and Max stepped inside, the door sealing behind them. I shifted from foot to foot beside Alexi.
Pietr had already left me to stand by the door.
There were hugs and tears, and Tatiana—Mother—pul ed the single chair over and sat. Max, the family bad-ass, sniffled and fel at his mother’s feet, resting his mop of hair against her knee. Tatiana sighed and played with his dark curls, doting on him as if they had al the time in the world. Cat sat by her other knee, posture rigid, absolutely alert.
She was seeing what I had noticed: stress, strain, and age marring the natural beauty of a woman without her family. A woman whose love was lost.