Free Into the Flame by Christina Dodd Page A

She loved the child she had cherished as a daughter, and she longed for the baby she had lost.

    Tears sprang to her eyes. Tears for her, tears for Firebird, and, most of all, tears for her son.

    Where was her baby? Happily adopted by another family? Abused and beaten? Or dead, an infant not allowed his chance at life?

    She struggled to sit up. ‘‘I’m going to call Firebird. Tell her to be safe.’’

    ‘‘No. You are not.’’ Konstantine held her in place. ‘‘If she wanted to tell you where she was and how long she’d be gone, she would have woken you before she left. As for being safe . . . we have raised her to be smart, and be safe. But we also have raised her to do the right thing, the responsible thing, and we have to trust her to know what that is. She is a grown woman. Leave her alone to do what must be done.’’

    Zorana relaxed and leaned her head into Konstantine’s shoulder. ‘‘If I knew then what I know now, I would have never had children.’’

    His laughter thundered through him. ‘‘Yes, you would.’’

    ‘‘No, I wouldn’t.’’

    ‘‘Yes, you would. You had no choice. In those days, all the time, we were humping like bunnies.’’

    ‘‘Konstantine!’’ Zorana covered Aleksandr’s ears.

    ‘‘Humping like bunnies,’’ Aleksandr repeated in a clear, thoughtful tone.

    ‘‘Aleksandr!’’ Zorana glared at her husband.

    Konstantine stretched and grinned at her, looking young and carefree for the first time in months. ‘‘Those were the good old days.’’

    Delighted, Aleksandr repeated, ‘‘The good old days. Humping like bunnies.’’

    ‘‘Zorana, we have lived here for almost forty years. Your tribe swore to take you back from me. The Varinskis swore I was mad to love you, and that they would take me back. None of them ever found us— and they should have.’’ Konstantine sounded less like Zorana’s kindly husband and more like a general preparing for battle. ‘‘I never asked you why.’’

    Her whirling thoughts stilled.

    ‘‘But last night, a stranger came into our valley. Our very talented sons sought him, but despite their best efforts, they couldn’t find him, and when we were alone, they told me he carried the scent of a great cat.’’

    ‘‘A great cat,’’ Aleksandr repeated thoughtfully.

    ‘‘Yes, my boy.’’ Konstantine stroked Aleksandr’s hair. ‘‘A panther, like Dyadya Adrik, or a tiger, a lion, a cougar. So the stranger was a Varinski, an enemy. I think perhaps for almost forty years you have been protecting us from prying eyes, and I think perhaps something has changed. Heh?’’

    How could Zorana have imagined she could fool Konstantine? Konstantine, who was so intimately familiar with the supernatural . . . and with her? ‘‘I don’t talk about it. I don’t understand how it works. But I am a seer. I foretell the future . . . but I have no control over when and where. I wish I did. Two and a half years ago, I burp forth a prophecy and our whole world goes to hell. If I could just tap into that power again . . .’’

    Again Konstantine hugged her, silencing her self-recriminations. ‘‘We are grateful for any knowledge sent to us by the good God.’’

    ‘‘Yes. Of course we are.’’ She hadn’t meant to complain about what she did know, only what she didn’t. Sitting up, she wrapped her arms around her knees. ‘‘I have another talent. It’s a little thing. With my mind, I can make a bubble, like Teflon, over the place where I am. It wards off the bad things. Storms that would ruin the grapes or split the cherries. People who wish us ill.’’

    ‘‘Yes.’’ Konstantine understood. Of course he did. ‘‘So how did one of them get here last night?’’

    ‘‘Maybe he followed Firebird in. I think that might be it. Or maybe I . . . Lately I’ve wondered . . .’’

    ‘‘Wondered?’’ he encouraged.

    ‘‘When we married, the line between good and evil blurred. There are