Chronicles of the Wolf

4

After going through a couple of buildings and not very good-looking hotels, Olga finally found what she wanted.

Fortunately, this old shopping center did not have surveillance cameras, but it had a great roof and a fire escape that could get to this very roof.

After loading the rifle, the woman on the roof lay down on her stomach on the icy metal.

She stared at the sight for a long time, although she saw her target perfectly without a sight.

When one of the guards comes out, the woman shoots directly into the forehead of a man, a Wentworth guard she knows.

These identical crooks probably brought photos of local girls to Wentworth to choose which one to bite.

They did it. They always do.

Olga was once among such unfortunate people.

After reloading, Olga manages to take aim at these endless bookshelves as successfully as possible.

That's it! No machinations, no kidnappings!

She's done with it! Her fingers ached from constantly pulling the trigger, but still no one saw her.

Olga pulled the chain around her neck from nervous tension, on the move she took out her army badges from under her clothes and kissed them.

One of them was opening. There was a small photo of those who changed her life once and for all.

Maria, Vegard and Christophe...

***

Olga jumped up the wall back into the house. The woman shook her head, shaking the snow from her red hair.

Bjorn was startled by the rustle and sound of footsteps.

— Oh, it's you, it's just you!— he said with considerable emotion.

— Don't be so nervous. What's wrong with my daughter?— Olga sat down on the sofa closer to the radiator.

— She's fine now. Olga, can I ask you something?— Bjorn why nervously looked out of the window and closed it.

— Requests are different. I'll see what I can do.— almost lying back on the battery, Olga tried to group herself near the heat.

— Let my brothers and sisters stay here for a while, please. There are six of us in total...—

Even in the dim light, the vampire's golden hair shone so brightly that his face was visible.

— I have nothing against vampires, Bjorn, know that. Now the times have come when you need to be afraid of your own more than others...— after waiting for the clothes to become warm, Olga went to another room to change.

Vegard, who was watching TV with headphones, saw through a slot in the screen the slightly inflated shoulders and back of his wife, streaked with scars.

— Did you do that?— he asked, taking off his headphones.

Olga came out from behind the screen in a homemade blue dress.

— I'm glad I did. They don't have part of their disgusting archive anymore. Not anymore.— Olga lay down on the bed next to her husband.

She feels sleepy, as if someone has started a time machine, started it in dreams...

A long time ago, when the nightmare had just begun...

— ...I know you don't love him! Wentworth took you by force from Catalonia and took you into the cold...—slightly wild eyes are visible from under the regrown hair.

— And what should I do? I can't kill Wentworth, I can't escape from here either!— Olga is sitting at the bars.

An ancient, rumored, insane werewolf has been kept in the basement for several decades.

Soon he will be released, he will again plot against the tyrant Wentworth.

— Ask Wentworth to appoint me as your guard. I feel that our destinies will be linked...— gray eyes look straight at her.— I will not betray, I swear by my own blood...— with one hand, the prisoner pushes his hair apart and a faint glow illuminates a charming, almost childish face.—I won't betray you...— With his claw he pierced his palm and small scarlet droplets flowed to the floor ...

***

Olga wakes up on the bed. Did she fall asleep with her clothes on?

And during the day... In the corridor, she can hear very quiet tapping of fingers - Christophe beat a weightless cosmic rhythm with his fingers on the windowsill and the smell of his cigarettes is carried around the house.

— Liv! Vegard is waiting for you!— Level with the second when Olga woke up.

The woman liked to be called Liv in the Norwegian manner, but usually only Vegard called her that.

It was only in daylight that Olga Karsten noticed that Christoph, her kind and devoted friend Christoph Jansen, had turned gray and aged over all these years. Only now, when the situation became difficult, Olga noticed how quickly the youth of a forty-year-old (in appearance) and completely gray-haired man left.

— Woke up early?— asks the wolf.

— Yeah.— Christophe pointed with his finger and Olga even winced.

Again, this crazy Jordan Helx was watching at home! Vegard is cooking. He only gets behind the stove when he's afraid.

— Honey, how are you?— Olga hugs her husband from behind by the waist, buries her nose in his hair.

— The kitten was scared in the morning...—Vegard said in a trembling voice.— Little Mathias ran home with his fur standing up and his eyes wild with horror. I stood here afterwards and washed his paws- they were all covered in bat blood! That idiot Wentworth marks those houses where there are vampires and mostly werewolves live like that!—

— Shall we go to some local restaurant in the evening?—Olga interrupts him.

— Honey! Am I that bad at cooking?— Vegard is stirring a fragrant tomato brew in a saucepan.— I've planned pasta for today! —

— I want to be in public, and if Wentworth comes, we'll see who wins... —

A little later they see a wolf in the distance — Christophe can't without warm-ups.

***

Maria woke up when Vegard and Olga were getting dressed.

— Oh, I thought you were in my dream... Have I been sleeping all day?—she ran her hand over her head.— Oh, it hurts!—

— Hmm, I wouldn't entertain you with tales that you only slept for one day.—Bjorn smiled. Only now did the vampire notice what he had in his hands.

— A cup by the size of thoughts, right?—Maria smiled.

— I bought the chocolate myself! Well, yes, I'm thinking hard right now... My brothers and sisters need my protection, and I can't even put my thoughts together...— the fact that the color of the eyes began to change could mean only one thing.

— Bjorn, when did you eat?— Maria looked into the corridor for a second.— Take one bottle from my stock. A black valise under the bed...— Vegard walked down the corridor, straightening the jacket of his old suit. Maria came out of her room, noticing her father. — Terrible, isn't it?—The blond man asked, turning to his daughter. — Father, you are very handsome. Finnish and Norwegian blood gave the best to the right places, although in the seventeenth century, you probably seemed whiter than snow to everyone. Even the eyes are light gray.Maria tugged at his tie.— But it's better without it.— — Thank you.—Vegard smiled. — Will you and Mom take Christophe with you? Don't you think it will be too noticeable?— — Noticeable? Hmm, yeah, maybe you're right... But your mother has only one guard and friend, and I don't know anyone who could be relied on the same way...—Vegard murmured thoughtfully.

— Stefan. Rely on Stefan.I know him very well from our chestnut, Small, but crazy.—the vampire smiled. — Sounds interesting... Okay, since you say so, you need to try and take a chance...—

***

Stefan Hoglund-Martensson was the name of a young man about fifteen or seventeen years old, very tall and with a strong pallor similar to Vegard and Bjorn.

— Hello.—barefoot, in a black turtleneck and loose trousers, he enters the room.— My father called me. Do you need my help?—

— Not exactly help...— Olga Karsten wraps the edge of the stocking with tape so that anything plugged behind it sits firmly.

— We need such protection that it is not conspicuous... The one whose strength is not visible from the outside, and Christophe is known in the neighborhood...— Olga pulls up her dress.

— What? Olga, I demand an explanation! Why do you want to change guards?— a little angry Christophe appeared on the doorstep. His face was sleepy and even a little childishly offended.

— I decided to practice the role of bait, Christophe. But don't tell me anything about it!—daggers plunged into the hairstyle and became indistinguishable from fancy hairpins.

— What am I going to say... Olga, if you think so, I trust you completely. Can you guarantee me that neither you nor Vegard will get hurt?—Christophe looked at her, mentally counting the silence.He handed Olga the phone.— There's only my number in memory here and I'm tracking it by GPS. There will be problems- just call.—.