Wickedly Wonderful (Baba Yaga, #2)

Beka grabbed a bottle of ice-cold water from the fridge, thinking she was forgetting something. Exhaustion dragged at her feet and fogged her mind, so overwhelming it made her want to weep with tiredness. She really needed to get some sleep, and soon. But first, she had some explaining to do.

She plopped down on the couch with a sigh, gesturing for Chewie to join her. “It went . . . well, it went. We didn’t catch him, but we did see enough to be sure we had the right guy, and to also discover that he is probably behind the poisoning of the water people’s homes, in addition to being the renegade the Queen wants caught.”

“Huh,” Chewie said. “We should have figured the two might be connected. It never occurred to me though.”

“Me either,” Beka said. “I guess I haven’t handled this very well.”

Chewie stared at her. “You’ve handled it just fine. No one else could have done any better. You’re just hearing Brenna’s voice in your head, telling you you’re not good enough. It’s as though she never left.”

Beka sat up straight, taken aback by the unexpected vehemence in his voice. “What? What are you talking about? Yes, Brenna was always a little hard on me, but she criticized me for my own good, so I’d learn to be the best Baba Yaga I could be.”

Chewie sighed, looking at her as though she were an idiot. “Your own good, my hairy black ass. She criticized you because she felt threatened by your youth and beauty and strength of character, and because she hated the idea of training anyone to replace her. I’ve always thought she picked you because you satisfied the requirement of magical ability, but your innate goodness made it easy for her to manipulate you. Look, you’re still defending her, even now.”

“She rescued me from a hellish fate,” Beka said indignantly. “And she raised me to be a Baba. What more could I have asked for?”

“A little kindness, maybe? An occasional ‘Well done, Beka’?” Chewie said, poking his cold nose into her hand and giving it a lick, as if to make up for his comments. “Never mind. This isn’t the time for this conversation, although it is long overdue. You beat her at her game anyway, by turning out to be a lot stronger than she ever thought you’d be.”

Beka had never loved that silly dragon more than she did at this very moment, although she thought he was vastly overestimating any strength she might have. Her whole body ached, and there was a tremor in her hands that made her quickly put down the bottle before he could notice.

“Yes, well, maybe,” she said ruefully. “But it turns out that my taste in men is pretty lousy.”

“Ah.” Chewie sat back on his haunches. “It was the Selkie prince, then. I’m almost sorry to be right.” He thought about it for a moment. “On the other hand, I told you so.”

Beka rolled her eyes, a movement that hurt more than it should have. “Yes, you did. And since I actually watched him murder a man in cold blood a couple of hours ago, I can’t even work up the will to argue with you. Dammit.”

Chewie smirked, his black tongue lolling. “It could be worse, you know.”

“Really? How?”

“You could have slept with him.”

Beka shuddered. “Gah. True enough. Although I didn’t do much better picking the one I did sleep with.” Dammit again. And now she had to go ask him for help. Maybe she could just throw herself in the ocean instead. Holding on to a big, heavy rock.

“So what did you do with the sonofabitch? Is that where Alexei and Gregori are, taking him to the Queen?” Chewie asked.

“No. Kesh took a couple of mysterious containers and the dead body of the man who brought them to him, and drove his boat out to near where I’ve been diving. And he didn’t come back up again while we were there. Not that it would have mattered, since as Gregori pointed out, there was no point in trying to capture a Selkie on the open water.” She took a deep breath. “And the Riders left. They went to look for Mikhail; they’re afraid something has happened to him.”

“Wait, what?” Chewie’s muzzle wrinkled. “You mean they just left you to deal with this by yourself?”

“Not by myself,” Beka said, leaning forward and giving him a big hug. “I’ve got you. In fact, you’re a vital part of my cunning plan.”

“Oh, great,” Chewie said. “You’ve got a cunning plan. Why do I have the feeling I’m not going to like it?”

Because you’re not going to like it, Beka thought. But out loud, she said, “Are you kidding? You get to be the hero of the story for a change, instead of complaining that you’re stuck here, guarding the Water of Life and Death and missing all the action.”

He perked up a little at that, but still looked at her doubtfully, cocking his head to the side. “Uh-huh. And what exactly is it your plan requires me to do that is so heroic only I can manage it?”

Beka took a deep breath. Everything was riding on her being able to persuade Chewie to break one of the most basic rules of being a Chudo-Yudo. But without him, her plan had no chance at all, and she could kiss her career as a Baba Yaga good-bye.

“You’re going to do what you were born to do, Chewie. You’re going to go for a swim. A really long, really deep swim.”