As I loosened my hold, hands seized me from behind. With a wild cry, I swung my arm back, slashing blindly.

“It bit me!” Dima yelped, releasing me. “Damn it, it bit me!”

I swiveled around and retreated several paces, my knife brandished in front of me. Urgent gasps pushed from my lungs, trailing in fog from my lips.

“That isn’t an upyr, you idiot,” his companion growled, eying me warily. Strands of lank blond hair hung over his forehead, framing features nearly as emaciated as an upyr’s. “It’s a woman. A girl, at that.”

“A koldunia,” Dima spat, backing away from me. My knife had left a shallow cut across the back of his hand. “Only witches live out in the wilderness. And just look at her.”

“Where is he?” The blond man’s lips were so chapped, droplets of blood welled from their creases when he smiled—a thin, vicious sneer that left my throat dry. “You know, don’t you?”

My blood pounded in my ears as I leveled my knife at the men. I felt struck mute, my voice reduced to raw, frantic panting. It wasn’t just fear that had caught my tongue—staring into the soldiers’ eyes, a strange, feral anticipation welled inside my veins.

“I asked, where is the boy?” the blond man snarled. “The dark-haired one. The one from the crash.”

“Dead.” My eyes darted from his head to his hands to his feet. If he lunged at me, what part of his body would move first? “Both of them are.”

“She’s lying,” Dima hissed.

“You’re not a koldunia at all.” The blond man edged toward me, his gaze planted on my blade. “Just some farmer’s daughter. Drop that knife now, before you hurt yourself.”

Suddenly, he lunged. I thrust the knife forward, aiming for his throat. He ducked away and seized my wrist as the blade cut the empty space between us.

Growling, I tried to yank my hand free. In the corner of my eye, I spotted a haggard figure entering through the open door, backlit by a hazy burst of lightning.

“Mama!” I shouted. “Papa!”

The man’s fist flew toward my face. I never felt it hit before succumbing to the darkness.

4

When I came to, the world was filled with a fiery golden light, my vision blurred behind a gossamer veil. Weight on my brow. The entire left half of my face felt swollen into one aching pustule. I groaned, closing my eyes. That helped the nausea somewhat, but it didn’t reduce the pain that roared down my face at the slightest motion.

“Is there anything I can do to help her?” a low, hoarse voice said.

“Mikhail,” I mumbled.

A hand squeezed mine. “I’m here.”

“She needs to rest,” Mama said.

“I’m fine. I’m fine.” I opened my eyes and fought to sit up, grasping hold of the bed frame for support. The entire world turned slowly, twisting and twisting. I was afraid that if I moved too much, I’d fall off the bed and keep falling forever, through the dirt and permafrost into even stranger depths.