| Blood Debt |

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Nikolai’s office smelled faintly of oil, iron, and old paper. The war outside never reached these walls, only the echo of it lingered in every report stacked across his desk. Krueger and Iskra were out on patrol. Farah, Yegor, and Syd were scattered around the coven house, keeping their hands busy and their minds sharper. That left Nikolai alone with the never-ending cycle of paperwork, until the rotary phone on the corner of his desk began to ring.

He exhaled through his nose, pen dropping from his hand. “Chto teper’?” he muttered, reaching for the receiver. “Privet. What can I do for you?”

The familiar rasp of Captain Price cut through the static. “You sound chipper.”

“Oy? Depends who’s calling.” Nikolai leaned back in his chair, one brow raised.

“I’ve got something for you,” Price said. His tone carried weight, the kind that meant trouble.

Nikolai hummed. “And what is it you have for me, old friend?”

There was a pause. Then Price spoke, quiet but certain. “A vampire. Young one, by the looks of it. Shadow Company had them locked up, used as a weapon. A pet, even. Graves’ little experiment.”

Silence fell between them. Nikolai’s jaw tightened. “A pet?” he repeated, voice low, dangerous.

“Barely fed. Shackled. They drained them when they needed a monster and kept them starved the rest of the time. They’re not speaking much. I thought, maybe, you could help.”

The sound of the lighter flicking was soft, followed by a drag of smoke. Nikolai’s eyes flicked toward the sealed doors leading to the coven’s inner sanctum. His people were killers, yes...but monsters with a conscience. “Keep them there,” he said finally. “We'll be on our way.”
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