Henri's Little One

Chapter 1-2

Vitas shivered in fear. Another beating would render him senseless and allow Chernof to take him without a fight. The huge Beta seemed to read his mind. Anatoly leaned in and whispered, “Hold on a little longer. Maxim and I have arranged your escape. You’ll fly out of Moscow to Helsinki then on to America.”

“Why are you helping me?” Vitas knew the penalty for a Beta rebelling against his Alpha. It was death by beheading and no chance to return to the wheel. Anatoly was courting oblivion.

“Even Maxim and I know he must be stopped. We spoke and we think the gods will understand.”

“I have no documents, he took them.” Vitas gritted his teeth in pain.

“We stole your documents from Chernof’s desk and hid them away. We have your passport and everything else you need to emigrate, just as your parents planned. You will leave later, tonight.” Anatoly handed him a tiny piece of rolled-up paper. “Hold this for courage. Alpha Davidoff is at the address on the paper. He needs to know what Chernof is doing. Now scream. I’m going to have to do some damage, but this will be the last time. Scream loud.”

Anatoly pounded on him, pulling his punches until Chernof stuck his head back into the door of the cellar. The Beta whispered, “I’m sorry.” By the time Anatoly was finished, Vitas could only cry in agony, desperately clutching the paper in his hand. As Anatoly and Maxim knew it would, it gave Vitas strength of purpose, and the will to live.

Later, as he lay in the corner gasping for air, Anatoly unlocked the door, snuck in, and undid his chains. He threw him some clothes and his satchel. Maxim handed him a washcloth and hosed him down with icy water. They gave him a thin towel.

“Dress, we’re leaving now. Maxim and I will put you in the trunk of the Lada and take you to the airport. I told the Alpha you were too hurt and sick to mate tonight. Hurry, he may check. You have until morning to get out of Russia. In this envelope are plane tickets to Helsinki and through to New York. You also have your Irish passport, a green card for legal residence in the United States, and five-hundred dollars in American currency. We’ve been planning this since he murdered your parents.”

“I’m still hurt and dirty. They won’t let me on the plane.”

“No worries, you can shower at the first-class club in Helsinki. I put soap, shampoo, and a towel in the bag. The steam will help your chest. If the s**t smell clings after your shower, douse yourself with cognac, it’s free in the lounge. They won’t smell the fertilizer, only the liquor. You speak English, so when you get to America, ask for a taxi to go to Alpha Davidoff’s address. You need to find him and tell him how bad things have gotten here. He must do something. The others are like sheep.”

Maxim whispered, “I put a few of your things in your satchel. I couldn’t risk more.”

Vitas nodded. He understood how much they had risked for him already. Vitas dressed with help and limped out of the cellar shivering and trying not to cough. He crawled into the trunk of Anatoly’s old black Lada. He was bruised but not bleeding so there wouldn’t be a trail of blood for Chernof to follow. Damaged from self-indulgence and hard living, the Alpha’s nose was no longer acute for tracking. Few remembered Chernof was a one-eighth human and therefore vulnerable to some of the effects of his excess. He rarely made the change anymore, and his human frailties were beginning to catch up to him because he wouldn’t call his wolf. His nose was iffy, at best. Anatoly promised he would lead him east instead of west when he found that Vitas was missing. The dirt and s**t of the cellar still clung to him. He frowned. The clothing helped to cover the odor but didn’t eliminate it. Anatoly assured him the foul smell would throw Chernof off the scent.

The ride in the trunk over bad roads was hellish, but Vitas didn’t dare to speak or cry out. When he boarded the jet to Helsinki, people scrutinized him, askance at his condition, but once he reached Finland, he had eight hours between flights. Since he had a first-class ticket, the steward told him he could shower in the club the airport kept for premier passengers. He could also get something to eat and drink.

He washed as best he could in his condition but couldn’t do a thorough job on his back, hair, and nails. He changed his clothing and put the things he had worn in the trash bin, remembering to take Alpha Davidoff’s address from his pocket. He hoped it was warmer in New York because he’d thrown away his jacket. Once on the plane to Newark, he dared to breathe. The berths in first class allowed him a seat that reclined almost into a bed, and he could lie down and rest while trying to suppress his coughs. The flight attendant was kind. He gave him a blanket and some hot tea with lemon, honey, and whiskey. The whiskey would do him no good, he was loup garou, but he welcomed the sweet tea, lemon, and blanket.

From the steward, Vitas found out the date. He turned twenty-five yesterday, the day Chernof planned to rape him. He went to the bathroom and as he checked the damage, he contemplated his face. He wasn’t beautiful, yet he was attractive in his own way, with unblemished skin, his mother’s straight, dirty blonde hair, worn long in a braid, along with her green eyes, the dark color of the Irish Sea. His eyes were the problem. They were his gift. He saw too much. Vitas wished he was an ordinary loup garou. But the gods saw fit to have him carry this burden, and carry it he would. But as long as Vitas drew breath, Chernof wouldn’t get it. He would kill himself first.

On the plane, he slept fitfully, shivering in fear, fighting his fever, and trying not to cry out in pain. He couldn’t eat, but he took another cup of tea. When he arrived at customs, he didn’t have anything to declare except his small carry-on satchel that contained all his worldly goods. Maxim had smuggled out a picture of his parents, a beautifully illustrated book of Russian fairy tales his father used to read to him, an additional set of underwear, and the silver bracelet his mother had given him last Yule. The rest he’d had to leave behind. Forcing back tears and lifting his shoulders, he made his way through the airport, determined to make sure Chernof paid for his cruelty.

* * * *

Chernof’s Dacha

The next afternoon

“How did he get away? He must have had help. You two were the only ones who had access to the cellar. I kept it locked. Tell me why I shouldn’t rip your throats out right now.”

“I swear by the gods, Alpha, Maxim and I didn’t free him.” Chernof sat behind his desk. Anatoly literally stood on the carpet. He forced an appropriate amount of fear in his expression. Not of Alpha Chernof, but fear of the gods who might strike him dead for swearing to a lie in their names. “We were in the dorm, off shift. Sleeping when he escaped. Some other members of the pack who knew his parents or were loyal to Davidoff must have picked the lock and spirited him away. The lock is scratched and damaged.” Anatoly knew it was. He damaged it himself in case the Alpha looked. He carefully tried to control his expression. Chernof was a big brute of a man, but not too bright.

“I know where he probably went,” Maxim volunteered.

Chernof smacked Maxim. “You i***t, I know where he went. He went to Davidoff in New York.” The Alpha paced back and forth then halted. “Hmm, but Davidoff is mated. Where did he go afterward? Davidoff’s Mate would have seen him as a threat and torn out his throat immediately, if he didn’t send him on his way.”

“Maybe he went to a pack Alpha or a Beta.” Anatoly’s insides were quaking.

Chernof looked to the sky. “The gods have given me fools,” he snapped. “Such a gift can only be meant for a council Alpha.”

“Alpha, in America they’re soft. Davidoff’s Mate would have welcomed him.” Anatoly shook in real fear. His life hung in the balance. He was counting on The Alpha to take Chernof to the pit.

“They made Davidoff fifth. That leaves three other council members. One in Chicago, one in Oregon, and one in Alaska and the Yukon.” Maxim bit his lip, squeezing his fingers so that his nails dug into his palms as he spoke.

“Don’t you listen to the reports I’m given? I’d replace both of you if I weren’t stuck with you from birth.” Chernof kicked Maxim, and Maxim bent to rub his leg. Chernof kneed his chin.

Chernof heard the knock on his study door. A she-wolf bearing a tea tray appeared. He motioned her into the room. She set the tea on Chernof’s desk. He didn’t indicate that she should serve so she stood with them waiting.

Anatoly spoke up, “We’re not going to do you any good if we’re dead or incapacitated.”

“I’m not sure you two pieces of s**t are doing me any favors now,” Chernof grumbled. “The information I received was that the Alpha from Chicago and the Alpha from Oregon have already found their Mates. Julien Bellaire of Oregon is mating this weekend.”

“Then we should go to Oregon. Surely he would follow Davidoff and the council to Oregon.”

Chernof punched Anatoly in the stomach. “You fool. By the time we get to Oregon, they will be back in Manhattan.”

Anatoly grimaced and hunched over.

The she-wolf bearing the tea tray spoke up, “Excuse me, Alpha, but I was in your office cleaning when you received your reports. The last few Alphas were mated one right after the other. I’d look in Alaska. If he isn’t mated, he’s up next.” She smiled brightly at Chernof. Anatoly wanted to choke her.

“Finally, one of you with brains. We’ll never catch them if we take a plane to Anchorage. They’ll watch for that. I can get one of my friends in the government to allow us access to the restricted area around Cape Dechnev. Make immediate flight arrangements for my small plane to land at the airport in Anadyr. We’ll make our way by fishing trawler from Cape Dechnev to Cape Prince of Wales then arrange for another boat to take us to Anchorage. Book the passage. And you…” Chernof pivoted to the serving girl. “You come with us. It seems you have a brain.”

Anatoly and Maxim looked longingly at the tea and cakes but went to do what they were bid.

§ § §

Eugene, Oregon

Julien’s home, library

Third week in June

The mating party broke up at two, and the council convened in the library with their Mates. Everyone was sated and quiet. Henri inwardly sighed. He had hopes for today, but they bore no fruit. He got up to pour himself a drink and the front doorbell rang, startling the group. Henri lifted his head, sniffing the air. After a moment, Marcel scurried into the room.

“There is a young loup garou by the name of Vitas Kosloff at the front door who insists on seeing Alpha Davidoff. He appears as if he were badly beaten, he’s shivering, coughing, and having difficulty breathing. I showed him into the living room, installed him on a couch with an afghan, and called Dr. Artis from the media room. Alpha, we might need Donal, Sean, and Kane.”

Henri stood up abruptly and pushed himself forward, propelling his body closer to the library door. Breathing deeply, Henri snapped at Marcel, “Where did you put him? Show me, now.”

Julien turned to follow. He patted Alexei on the shoulder. “Do you want to go in and speak to him and bring Donal? This will be the first time he’s had the opportunity to use his gift.”

“I’ll go, but I’m sure this is Henri’s Mate. Watch him.” Henri paid little heed to Alexei’s words. He flew through the library doors, focused on the wonderful scent bathing his nostrils.

Henri took another whiff and caught the odor again. It smelled of fresh pine and mulched earth on a clear day in the woods. Henri broadcast on all channels in joy. This is my Mate. I’ve found my Mate.

Armand stood. “I think that we should all go. Baby?” He motioned for his Mate. Sean, the other Alphas, and their Mates, followed Marcel and Henri into the formal living area.

The young wolf saw Henri and sat up, causing a paroxysm of coughing. He bared his neck, attempting to go down on his knees. He grimaced as his knees hit the floor. “Alpha, I didn’t know where else to go. I need to speak to Alpha Davidoff. Anatoly and Maxim smuggled me out…I…” Alexei came from behind Henri, while Henri picked the boy up off the floor, sat him back on the brown leather couch and gently took him into his arms. Vitas gasped, and Henri frowned. He pulled the V-neck of his threadbare rugby shirt apart and seeing the bruises, fumed.

“What happened, Vitas?” Alexei asked as Henri stroked his Mate’s long hair, speaking in soft tones that both inquired and soothed.

He lifted his head to the other wolf. “Alexei, let me.” The small Omega started to cry.

“It’s okay, little one. We’ll take care of you. Nothing bad can happen to you while you’re here, I promise. Tell Alexei what you need to tell him, and we’ll get you into a warm bed and make the pain go away.” He faced the doctor. “Artis, I think he has broken ribs as well as pneumonia.” Henri frowned. “A loup garou has to be sorely tried to develop pneumonia…Armand, can Sean…?”

“Of course.”

Vitas gazed with wonder in his stormy green eyes into Henri’s. He picked up his hand and touched Henri’s hair in awe. “I smell fresh linen, my mother’s sheets on the clothesline. I see the tether. You’re my Mate.” Vitas sobbed. “Thank the gods. I knew it wasn’t him. I knew it.” Henri bent over toward his Mate, and the young wolf gazed up at his face, grabbing on to his waist, holding Henri tight. Suddenly, his grip went slack. Henri regarded Vitas in dismay. The little one had fainted.