Where Foxes Hunt with Wolves (Folk Lore 2) - Page 9

Radek yelped in disbelief. “Hey… Hey! Put me down, you ogre!” But his heart beat faster, and the scent of his sweat became denser. Little did he know that if Yev was an ogre, he would have turned around to the car and shown Radek a fucking he’d never forget.

But Yev followed rules, so he willed away thoughts of taking Radek in the bed of the truck and walked up the stairs, to the double doors made of wood.

He’d be gone within the next five minutes, then go back to Burian, deal with the fresh cargo, and finally roll into his cold, lonely bed.

He pushed the door open, carrying Radek in, and froze, his gaze meeting that of a young policeman standing on a stepladder. The guy had a round, child-like face and held a whole bundle of paper angels, which he was hanging on the pipes running along the ceiling in the front hall.

“Oh. Merry Christmas,” the young cop said, stilling like a kid caught with his hand in a cookie jar.

Radek perked up, briefly capturing Yev’s gaze when Yev placed him back on the floor. “Mirek?”

So he really was a local. Damn him to all pests.

The dark blue police sweater rode up on the cop, revealing a bit of a pot belly. Hip hop music blared from a cell phone placed on the front desk, alongside a poppy seed cake wrapped in paper. He was here alone, and clearly a friend of Radek’s.

Mirek cleared his throat and hopped off the ladder. “Hi… didn’t know you were back. How’s Crac— Wait, why are you handcuffed?”

Radek looked at Yev, lifting his brows high. “I have no idea, dude.”

Yev cleared his throat. “I’m Yevhen Vovk, the forest ranger in Dybukowo Valley. This man has been tracking a wolf at night, while drunk, and had almost shot me with a hunting rifle.”

Radek had the audacity to roll his eyes, and his porcelain-smooth forehead wrinkled. “That is complete bullshit. I got drunk, yes, but that’s not illegal. I made a joke about hunting wolves, and you got me in handcuffs, as if I was some kind of gangster!”

Yev’s jaw clenched, and he balled his hands into fists. “I want to give my statement.”

The policeboy looked between them, his cheeks already flushed. He was inexperienced, likely straight out of the academy, and was shitting his pants over this highly irregular situation. “I’m sorry, I’m only starting out, and I’m to call Officer Krabowski if something serious happens, but I don’t think this… I don’t think this warrants waking him up. He’ll be back tomorrow at ten. But I’m happy to detain Radek, if he really is that dangerous.” His lips quirked with a barely held-back smile.

Radek’s eyes narrowed to slits. “Happy?” he asked Yev and presented his cuffed wrists.

Yev couldn’t believe this shit.

He grabbed Radek’s hands and pulled, breaking the flimsy chain of the sex gadget. At least the glint of shock in the pretty eyes gave him some degree of satisfaction.

“No.”

Mirek released a breath. “Thank you for not ignoring something you thought was dangerous, Mr. Vovk. May I offer some consolation cake?” He pointed to the poppy seed roll while Radek still stared at the two loose cuffs on his wrists.

Ridiculous.

“No, thank you. I could write down what happened, and you could sign it, and then hand it to the other officer once he’s back,” Yev said, staring at the cake.

Mirek placed his hands on his hips, getting even redder as he met Radek’s gaze. “I’m sure something got lost in translation. We attended high school together. He’s a normal person. Officer Krabowski is a member of the Hunting Association and was friends with Radek’s dad. I’m just being honest here. There won’t be a follow-up if there wasn’t been any damage to a person or property. Unnecessary paperwork.”

“I see my time’s wasted here,” Yev said and stepped toward the door, increasingly agitated. Nowak. He’d remember the name and look him up.

And the worst thing was that he kind of regretted not fucking the hot piece of idiocy after all. He bet that ass was freckled all over. Desire got the best of him, and he turned to get one more glimpse of that sugary trap. His brain boiled over with anger when he caught Radek staring back with his tongue sticking out. Un-fucking-believable. If he did that back where Yev was from, tufts of fur would have been flying by now.

But this wasn’t Yev’s home, so he sat in the truck and drove back to where this evening had started. He could smell Burian’s anger from the moment he stepped into the snow again, but his older brother rarely had a good word for him, so maybe it was time to stop wondering what he’d done this time. Usually, it wasn’t about what Yev had done but what he was anyway.

Tags: K.A. Merikan Folk Lore Paranormal
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