Red Devil (Dangerous Spirits) (17 page)

Chapter 20

Crumbling buildings surround them, gaping windows rimmed with shards of glass and tatters of curtains. The wind keens and cries through cracks in the stone, chilling Alexei’s nose and ears in gusts. He curls his tail around his legs and shifts his feet on loose gravel and dry, musty-smelling earth. Above him, clouds gather thick and black, but the stones glow with a soft, eerie light, as though at sunset. No matter where he turns, though, there is no sun to be found.

Konstantin stands in the ruined street next to him, a head taller. His coat snaps in the wind and his sash streams out behind him like a tail, though his own tail remains properly tucked beneath the coat. Now his scent is strong in the air; now it is not only Alexei’s whiskers and eyes that acknowledge his reality. He looks down his long muzzle at Alexei, the scar over his eye wrinkling. He does not have to ask the question.

Yes,
Alexei says.
I will…I will give up…only save Cat.

The soldier nods once, curtly.
I will do what I can.

Why?
bursts out of Alexei.

The unscarred eyebrow rises, the ears come up to stand straight.
Because I promise to do so.

No, I mean.
He struggles for words, and it is as though he is speaking English again for the first time, though the conversation is in Siberian.
Why do you care? About Cat, about me. What is it to you if I date Mi—males or vixens?

The older fox glowers, and his muscles tighten in a way that sets off warnings Alexei has not felt in a year. He steps back, tail curling tighter, and half-raises an arm. But Konstantin does not move any further, simply gathers himself and speaks, his voice chill and precise.
Because once a soldier took me from a path that led to damnation and raised me up. He gave me a chance to be more than my parents could.

Alexei swallows, encouraged somewhat by this opening.
I have that chance too,
he says.
In this time, you know, it is not…as it was. I know, in your time, boys who like boys are—

There were places where it was tolerated,
Konstantin says.
Not spoken of, not encouraged, but tolerated.

The curl of his lip shows what he thinks of those places. Alexei has encountered this argument, and on the Internet and in the VLGA he had heard counterpoints.
It is simply love,
he says.
Affection. You might not be familiar with the way it is expressed, but—

Love!
Konstantin glares, then turns away.
What matters love in all this? Love is for—love is for—
He hesitates
. Dreamers.

Behind the older fox, a section of building slides to the ground as silently as in an old film. Dust rises from it, but does not approach the foxes. Alexei watches it spin into clouds and tendrils, half-expecting it will form letters. But no; that was Konstantin’s doing, and the soldier stands before him now, staring into the distance, his ears flat though the wind has died to a flutter. Alexei says, tentatively,
What about your vixen? Maria?

Once I was a dreamer.
The fox’s voice, hollow, drops the words like glass.

Alexei, afraid of the edges that further questions might bring, changes the subject.
You can help my sister?

Konstantin’s attention snaps back to him and the breeze rises again, gains strength.
Yes,
he says
. If you live a virtuous life. I will not help someone who is unwilling to help himself.

But,
Alexei begins, and then flattens his ears and squints up as wind buffets his muzzle, as the dark eyes of Konstantin fix his. He takes a step back. Gravel crunches under his feet, and he clasps his paws together in front of him.

You have given your word,
Konstantin says
. Do not be forsworn.

But it is not so simple…

The clouds thicken; the light on the stones dies. Konstantin raises an arm and points it at Alexei, the coat flapping about his legs like a great beast reaching out to pull Alexei in.
You have given your word!

Alexei’s heart pounds and he takes another step back. Gravel slides and slithers under his paws and he falls backward, hitting the ground with a snap—

Chapter 21

—that woke him with a jolt. He clutched the sheets to himself in the darkness, panting hard. The noises of construction rumbled in the background, but in the other bed, Sol slept peacefully. Alexei lay back in his bed, closed his eyes, and tried not to think about what he had promised.

All day Wednesday, he was jumpy. He thought he saw a fox in a long coat behind the newsstand when they passed; he thought he saw the glint of medals on the homeless coyote who was only a shadow until they approached. It didn’t help that the day was overcast and drizzly, grey and hazy, so that even Sol, walking at his side to the bus, sometimes blurred and seemed to be someone else.

The only thing Sol said on the way to the bus was, “If this rain keeps up, it’ll be slippery tonight,” and the only thing he said on the bus was, “Have a good day,” when he left. Alexei, eyes skittering to shadows and sniffing the air for scents of earth or military coats or any trace of Konstantin’s severe scent, only said, “Yes,” to the first, and waved to the second.

On the bus, and later, at work, he felt more secure, but even at the warehouse, he thought he caught a whiff of earth. He froze for a solid ten seconds, tail bristled, until the reassuring scent of one of his co-workers overwhelmed it with a cheery, “Working hard or hardly working?” Alexei shook his head and gave a short laugh, and delivered the box.

He didn’t talk to his co-workers about his private life. As far as they were concerned, he was just a nice, single fox. So would there really be a big difference in his life at work, if he followed Konstantin’s orders? Here, his sexuality meant little or nothing. That thought, which he’d begun to reassure himself, only made him wonder what part of him was real, if he could pretend that nothing inside existed and live as a shell of a fox, smiling to the world over an empty, deserted soul.

That dark mood persisted as he changed for the game, arrived at the park, and refused pre-game beers. Sol left him alone, but Mike came to talk to him. Alexei breathed in the warm, comfortable smell of the sheep, accentuated in the rain, and for a short time, that calmed him.
Tell him you can’t make it for the date
, he kept telling himself. But even when the conversation paused, Alexei felt so grateful for Mike’s presence, so happy that the sheep was talking to him after his behavior the day before, that he could not bring himself to cancel the dinner. So they talked about how their days had gone, and that the team they were playing, an informal team from Vidalia College, looked pretty fit, but also had an impressive pile of empty beer cans stacked over on their sideline already.

It was a good sign that Kendall didn’t come over to bother them. He was over by the cooler in a white t-shirt he’d gotten from a 10K benefit run, talking to Sol. Alexei didn’t know whether Sol was intentionally occupying the marten, but he was grateful, because in his current state, he didn’t know how well he would be able to handle Kendall’s indirect insults. In addition, the t-shirt was far tighter than it needed to be.

“Oh, hey,” Mike said. “That muskrat from the Peaches showed up with some other guy.”

“Vic,” Alexei said. He looked up and wiped rain from his eyes. Colin had walked up in a windbreaker and baseball cap, and beside him was another figure, probably a weasel of some sort, but it was hard to tell in the hat and jacket. Could be a rat; Alexei couldn’t see his tail. They looked around and then the muskrat pointed at Alexei. He raised a paw, but didn’t move toward them.

“You want to go talk to them?” Mike started to move in that direction.

Alexei shook his head. “I want to focus on the game.”

“Okay. I’ll tell ’em.” Mike paused, and then wrapped his arm around Alexei’s shoulder. “Good luck,” he said, his muzzle next to Alexei’s ear. “Play great. I know you can.”

When he left, the absence of his warmth almost made Alexei run after him. Why did Mike have to be that way, why? Why was he making this so hard? Why couldn’t Alexei just tell him, I can’t go out with you because I’m trying to save my sister?

He squeezed his paws together and rocked back and forth, tail curling and uncurling. Because that sounded crazy was why. He didn’t even know if Konstantin would be able to help Cat. Wasn’t Alexei doing all he could? He would call Rozalina again tonight, and she would be able to help him, and then he wouldn’t have to keep his promise. Konstantin could yell and give him nightmares but Alexei wouldn’t care, not if Mike would stand next to him and whisper warm words into his ear with the soft touch that made him feel able to do anything.

Running out onto the field soothed him, even with the grass wet and the drizzle making it harder to see. All he had to worry about out here was the white and black ball, and the tiger and the white rat and the raccoon in bright green shorts who wanted to get it past him. Kendall chattered away in goal again, but Alexei ignored the marten as he usually did, focusing on the play ahead of him. For the first time this summer, running onto the football field felt familiarly like an escape, a haven from a world he preferred not to think about.

The college kids were good. They had probably been better before they’d emptied the case of beer, but they still provided enough of a challenge that Alexei was able to lose himself in the flow of the game. When he felt the urge to run up and attack the play, he hesitated half a second, deciding whether it was really the right thing to do or if it was just his borrowed confidence pushing him. And sometimes he moved up, and sometimes he didn’t.

Whatever he was doing produced good results. Twice he intercepted passes, and once ran up to break up an attack that got around Sol. He and Sol worked pretty well together, and at the half-hour mark, even Kendall had little to say. When Alexei glanced at the sidelines, Colin and his weasel friend looked absorbed in the game. Even when he didn’t look, he felt their scrutiny.

During the five-minute break, Alexei talked to Liza, not about the game, but about Mike. She asked when they were going out, and he smiled and told her, forgetting that he had promised to break the date. She clapped him on the shoulder and said, “
Good
,” in Siberian, and he stared at her, his train of thought broken even as she went on talking in English.

Her fur was wet with the rain, the narrow summer brown of her muzzle dark and striated with dripping water. He caught himself staring at her small ears, at the curve of her smile, and then down to her tight-fitting shirt, her arms, her hips, her legs. He had never before thought of her this way and it disturbed him, to the point that he interrupted her in the middle of a sentence and said, “Sorry, I have to go,” even though they hadn’t ended the short break yet. He jogged back alone to the field, head spinning.

Was this Konstantin’s doing? Was he able to change the way Alexei looked at his friends as well as changing how he played on the field? Or was Alexei making himself see females as sexy? If he took the credit for playing more aggressively, if he felt he had simply taken cues from Konstantin and had made himself play better, then did he not also have to take the blame for now looking at Liza as though he wanted to date her instead of Mike?

No, it wasn’t him. He stood on the wet grass and wiped water from his eyes, pressing his wet fur down. The other players filtered back onto the field, and Kendall and Sol jogged together toward Alexei’s end. He ignored them both, making up his mind that he was going to play more aggressively, and that that was going to come from him, not from Konstantin. He would prove that he could play hard, and then he would go to the sidelines and he would talk to Mike, not Liza, and everything would be all right.

His wet tail slapped from side to side as they started play, and for a little while, he fulfilled his promise to himself. He charged plays, and though sometimes that left Kendall alone behind him, Alexei played well enough to break up the attacks of the college students each time. Kendall chirped at him about taking risks, and Alexei ignored him.

It was about ten minutes from the end of the game that Alexei and Sol both ran out to counter an attack. It went to Alexei’s side, and he was on course to intercept it when a cold breeze struck his chest, through the damp fur, and chilled him inside as though it had penetrated his skin. He staggered, stopped, and then saw, limned in unearthly light on the patch of grass just behind the opposing goal, a fox in a navy blue military coat with a gold sash, medals sparkling through the rain.

Alexei saw him clearly, but for only a moment, and then one of the college kids, a raccoon, plowed into him, shoulder to Alexei’s chest. The fox saw grey sky and smelled the raccoon, strongly, as the sound around him seemed to die out, leaving him in suspended silence for a count that seemed much longer than two seconds.

He slammed into the ground on his side, his ribs twinging. His nose drove into the grass, and almost immediately, he sprang to his feet, now unable to smell anything but the thick, herbal odor of grass. He ran after the players in time to see a perfect pass and kick from the corner of the goal that soared past Kendall and into the net.

When Alexei turned, there was nothing behind the opposing goal save for a celebration.

The game ended in a tie, and only Kendall seemed to mind, stalking off the field while the rest of the VLGA were shaking paws and hands with the college kids. The marten stood by himself while Mike, Liza, Sol, and the others made their way back to the beer cooler. The drizzle continued, but the air was warm and muggy, so they didn’t mind standing around getting damp. “Hell, we’re already soaked,” Alice said as Alexei approached them, slowly, still looking back at the opposing goal, and then all around when there was nothing there.

The rain and fading light placed a shadow behind every stand of trees, making it impossible for him to see anything properly, and the closer he got to his team, the more the scents of wet fur masked anything else that might be around. He kept his ears up, flicking them to clear the water out every few seconds, listening for anything over the soft background noise of rain.

The muskrat and weasel walked toward him, both smiling. Colin raised a paw, and Alexei shook off the confusion of Konstantin to change course to meet them. Liza, who’d been waiting for him, nudged Mike, and the two of them beamed through the drizzle.

“Hi, Alexei,” Colin said, and indicated the weasel. “This is Vic. He’s the team captain and also our head scout.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” Alexei said, and extended a paw.

The weasel shook with a firm, wet grip. “Looked good out there. Got distracted once or twice, didn’t ya?”

“Er—” He was trying to figure out how to explain that he didn’t expect an ancient Siberian ghost to appear at most of his games when a sharp voice interrupted him. Alexei flicked his ears backwards.

“Hey!” Kendall, mud spatters decorating his white t-shirt, strode toward the fox. Alexei lay his ears back and shifted his feet to stand defensively.

Liza hurried quickly to intercept the marten. “Leave him alone,” she said.

Vic and Colin glanced at each other. Alexei felt a chill in his chest, and he clenched his fists, then relaxed them. “I am fine,” he told Liza, and stepped up to face Kendall. “What?”

“I told you to stay back.” The pine marten stopped a couple steps in front of Alexei. Sol came up on Kendall’s right, and Mike was plodding slowly over, two or three of the others behind him. “I told you, and you still ran out there—”

“He did great,” Liza said.

“It was not my fault.” Alexei edged forward to stay in front of Liza. It annoyed him that she was trying to fight his fight. He was aware that the annoyance was not completely rational, and yet it gnawed at him like a flea bite.

“You let through the attack that tied the game!”

“So what?” Liza said. “It’s a game! We are not in some Premier League. We play for fun. You remember fun, yes, Kendall?”

“I told him to stay back!” The pine marten yelled now, pointing at Alexei. “If he’d just played a little more conservatively—”

“Or if you could block a shot,” Alexei said, deliberately taunting, because Kendall had blocked about six shots during the game. “I take this game seriously.” After all, Alexei’s ability to stay in this country might be riding on how well he played, and the marten was trying to dress him down in front of the people who could make that decision. What did Kendall have at stake except puffed-up pride? Behind their group, the muskrat and weasel stood the way strangers would watch a family quarrel, unwilling to intervene, unwilling to look away.

“Hey, look,” Sol said, placing a paw on Kendall’s arm.

The pine marten shook him off, glaring up at Alexei. “What did you say?”

“I slipped,” Alexei said. “I fell. But still they had to kick past you to score. Did you slip? Or did you just miss?”

“I had no help!” Kendall shouted.

Sol grabbed Kendall’s arm again. “Calm down,” he said. “Alexei made a mistake, it’s not a big deal.”

“I made a mistake?” Alexei lifted his muzzle to stare at Sol. “I made a
mistake
?”

“You slipped.” Sol let go of Kendall, who was trying to twist his arm away anyway, and shrugged. “That’s all I meant.”

The accusation stung. He’d thought Sol would always support him, as he had always wanted to support the black wolf. He felt the familiar urge to curl up, step away, and nurse his grievances, but it was overwhelmed now by a fire in his chest, indignation that none of these people appreciated him, with the possible exception of Liza. “Well,” he said coldly, “you ran out there too.”

“I told him to go attack,” Kendall said, stepping forward and gesturing back at Sol. Alexei could smell his breath, hot and sour with the aftertaste of beer. “If you’d stayed back where you should have been, even if you’d slipped, you would’ve slowed them down enough for him to get back, or for me to get into position.”

“Not my fault you were not in position.” Alexei’s chest was tight, but his head was cold and clear. “Not my fault you know nothing of basic football strategy.”

“You think you’re so clever because you’re a fox, because you grew up playing soccer. Soccer.” He jabbed a finger through the air toward Alexei. “We call it
soccer
here, not football. And it’s about being part of a
team
.”