DPOV.
"We're gonna give you a fair trial, followed by a first class hanging." – Silverado
"South and East secured."
"And the Psi hounds?"
"Taken care of."
"Are you sure? If they set those things on us I'll kill you."
"What's going on with them is already drawing attention away from the main house leaving four Guardians, six at most."
"More manageable odds if this blows up in our faces."
I'm saved from replying to this by our boss joining the conversation.
"Which it won't." Victor intones. "They will cooperate but not without difficulty."
"Difficult is Belikov's specialty."
"I'm glad of it otherwise I'd have only you to rely on."
"Your words cut deep sir."
"Where are you now Dimitri?" Victor asks, choosing to ignore Spiridon which is always the best course of action.
"In the blueberry field, heading toward the manor."
"A Russian sneaking through the berry bushes. I wonder what the Ozera's would – we've crossed their ward boundaries, they know we're coming."
Finally, Spiridon has started to sound like he was taking this seriously.
Keeping low to the ground I hurry toward the manor. The bushes were of decent size and height which helped conceal me from exposure, as did the cover of night. The moon was full and bright which harboured a slight risk but only slight, especially as I'd already taken care of eight patrols and no others were active inside the perimeter of the field. The closest threats were in the orchard and the house.
House was not the correct word, not by my understanding anyway. The place reflected everything I'd ever heard about Mr. and Mrs. Ozera, extravagant, proud, pretentious, and intimidating. It was hard to imagine Tasha ever spending time here.
I slow as I approach the fence facing the house and then drop onto my knee, keeping aligned with the bushes.
"Activity in a room at the back of the house… two guardians have stepped into the yard, Moira Ozera is with them."
I watch as one Guardian breaks away and jogs to a large outbuilding set apart around fifty meters from the house, hidden from the front drive by white oaks.
"So we know they're home." Spiridon says brightly.
The Guardian returns pulling a smaller figure behind him. I'm too far away to make out distinctions but I know the individual is female.
"Moira is talking to –" My reports cut off as Moira's hand strikes out to hit the girl with enough force to make her stumble. Every bone in my body strains with tension, an invisible hook trying to pull me forward.
The girl takes off running and it is then I realise I have moved out of my crouch. My mind propels forward and thankfully gets ahead of my impulses. "She has sent someone out into the woods and has returned inside."
"We're pulling into the drive." Spiridon says.
"Go with your instincts, Dimitri." Victor instructs and I hear the brakes of their car in the background. "They're usually right. Just don't take too long."
"Got it."
The connection clicks off and I remove the headset from my ear, tucking it into my back pocket. The girl had a head start but she didn't look graceful, her movements were erratic and she would leave enough of a trail.
The bushes to my left were too thick to slip through so I would have to jump the fence and make for the treeline. It looked clear, no movement in the windows or from what I could see in the yard. I shut my eyes and pick apart the night by its sounds because sight was not to be solely relied on. It takes a couple of moments to make distinctions, the breeze between the trees, rustling leaves, my heartbeat, and the press of footfalls on grass.
My eyes snap open and I creep closer to the fence.
Two. Both male. Both average height and builds but measurements told me nothing of skill. I vault the fence and neither hear me land, they don't hear me until it's no longer an advantage. One is more skilled than the other, but trying to get a lock on him whilst engaging with the other makes it difficult. I land a kick to one's chest sending him back whilst catching the other's wrist; I yank him toward me and bring my elbow up into their face. One down.
The other begins to yell until the side of my hand connects with their windpipe. I take them into a headlock until they go limp. I drop their body.
The bleak tremor that I have felt each time I have incapacitated a fellow Guardian in the past hour runs through me now. I knew I was doing what was necessary and I knew that the people at my feet were not good men. I look at the outbuilding and everything in me protests when I turn away from it and run toward the forest.
The girl's trail may as well have been lit up for me to follow. Broken branches, disturbed undergrowth sometimes dotted by small, worn away parts of rubber which I suspected were from her shoes.
The terrain changes about a mile in, becoming steeper so I have to slow in order to remain silent. I veer away from the trail so I'm not coming up behind her but keep close enough to recognise the markers, that is until they stop and the mark is leaning against a tree.
The trees are closely cropped enough to give enough shelter from the moonlight but the place in which the girl was resting wasn't protected. And that's what she was, just a girl.
I'm so stunned I don't immediately remember what it is I'm supposed to be doing, my job. Instead, I'm registering just how thin she is, how her shirt is hugging her hips but hanging loose across her stomach, and how her eyes seem too big for her face above cheekbones that are too sharp. It's unnerving and no matter how prepared I'd tried to make myself for this trip it was all vain. Nothing could prepare me for this and this was just one, how many more were kept in that outbuilding.
How many more girls are younger than Viktoria?
Victor hadn't warned us of children.
My mind begins to slip, spiral away to a different scene, one in which my sister was the subject of such abuse.
The spiraling hits solid ground and everything falls away. Tonight's objective, Victor's orders, his warnings, the law or what was left of it… it was all was retreating back. What was left was what I was compelled to do and what I had to do was help this girl and others like her.
I take a step toward wondering how it was best to approach this situation. Looking at her slight frame she reminds me of a baby bird, fragile and helpless. I'm so intent on her I almost miss the brief flash in the trees ahead. I freeze and sink back behind the body of the tree, holding myself to bark and becoming a part of the surroundings. I glance at the girl trying to come to a decision when it's made for me as she becomes aware she isn't alone.
She rises slowly, almost subconsciously to stand on her own, eyes trained ahead of her.
My responsibilities spring back to the front of my mind, becoming the foundation on which I had to balance.
I have a job to do.
They come first.
I tear my eyes away from her and slide the stake from my belt and wait for what's ahead.
The Strigoi stops directly opposite the girl, giving a pool of moonlight between them both wide birth so they remain in the shadows. Off to the side, I have an uncompromised view of both of them. The girl is staring ahead and unknowingly to her the strigoi is staring back, running its eyes over her. A shiver crawls over my skin like a skittering spider.
The Strigois hair is light as is its attire, proving it felt no need to be subtle, no need to be cautious.
The girl finds the courage to speak. Her voice is quiet but her nerve drives it. It was almost distracting. I take her words and burn them into my mind, evidence. That's what I was here for. Mentally I give her thanks.
She steps back as her senses have finally caught up to her but like a predator knowing it has cornered prey the thing moves into the moonlight. The girl's reaction strikes me, how rapt she looks at the creature but to be fair to her this Strigoi was tame and coming across as civil.
The advantage was both were so focused on each other that neither is aware of me. I realise how lucky that is considering my impulses had dangerously nearly become actions…twice. I would not make a third error tonight.
This place really is a test of my self-control and I didn't like it.
The girl whispers she needs to leave and the thing reacts by coming closer. My hand tightens on my stake. The thing coos over her and the repulsion rolls through me like thunderous clouds.
The strigoi moves faster than I could have anticipated. Its speed reveals it's much older than I thought and it's upon the girl, knocking her back and straddling her. I begin moving forward with soundless speed, everything shutting down, focus tunneling my vision. Until the Strigoi screeches like it's been set aflame. It springs backward, making me back up against a tree, instinct to have something safe at my back in a situation where I had no one to cover it.
I look from the creature to the girl trying to calculate. The girl barely got her head lifted from the ground and it looks like it's causing her a lot of effort. The creature is touching its side, a stain spreading over its clothing, a dark stain and that's when I see it, a thin silver slice on the ground.
The girl had stabbed it.
This time I am distracted so when the thing growls it is panic that propels me forward. It leaps forward, intent to kill and we collide. I manage to extract myself before its claws can gain a good grip and crush down.
I don't pause, I react and I engage.
The Strigoi may be older but it was not skilled and it was not expecting me. It doesn't know how to play to its speed or its strength and does not know how to assess my weaknesses. I don't hesitate at an opening to strike, forcing the stake through its chest and making a home in the creature's heart.
It crumples and it's only then I think that maybe I should have kept it alive. I run through the information I've already collected hoping it would be enough. Well, it would have to be, I needed to get back and there was still the girl to deal with. She would be scared. She'd just been attacked and then seen her attacker be killed. If there was an easier way to approach this I didn't have time to think of it. I turn slowly as to not startle a wounded animal.
She takes off.
I blink. My mind stalls and then I bolt after her.
She was fast but I was faster. She starts alternating her path and it becomes easy to predict, instead of running left to come up behind her I race ahead waiting for her to veer right and she does. I slam into her with more force than I intended and she screams. The sound pierces through my head and I angle away from her body before we hit the ground in a loud thud. I half expect to hear a sickening crack of a bone or for her to be knocked senseless. Instead, she's already trying to get away.
I capture her wrists and pin them to the ground and the whole thing feels profoundly wrong. I feel a sudden need to explain and reassure her so doesn't blindly struggle against me.
She had to be younger than Viktoria…
"Stop."
She does.
She quits grappling and somehow this seems worse. Her chest is rising a falling rapidly and I try not to notice the dip under her ribcage or the thinness of the wrists my fingers have encircled. She's completely filthy. A neglected girl whose eyes remain closed out of fear.
"I am not going to hurt you."
Her eyes don't open and her expression alludes that she is having a nightmare. I rack my mind for something else to say, anything to reassure her but I have nothing in my arsenal. The last time I had ever felt this sort of tie to someone I needed to protect had been a very long time ago and I had been a boy.
Her eyes snap open and I'm ambushed.
There was fear but it was fear I knew, fear that came with common sense but did not render to being helpless. Her eyes held fierceness as if she were prepared to fight or face down a threat with dignity. I feel unbalanced as if our positions have been switched.
She bewildered me.
"What are you?" she breathes.
I was a lot of things but I couldn't articulate a lot of things, there wasn't time and I suspected she wanted a concise and simple answer.
I stare back into the wild girl's fierce eyes and tell her the only things I was certain of.
"My name is Dimitri Belikov and I am not going to hurt you."
Victor had said dealing with difficulty was my specialty and he hoped I would make tonight go as smoothly as possible. However, I had felt the impressions of abuse under my hands again, and like before I had no intentions of being diplomatic.
Impulse was taking hold of my thoughts and it may be the third error, it might risk tonight's operation and it might go against morality but I was inclined to make things difficult.
I had no tolerance for tyrants or child abusers.