Into the Flame by Christina Dodd Read Free Book Online Page A

Firebird had yelled at Zorana, had hurt her son, all because she had learned the truth and hated it.

    ‘‘Aleksandr.’’ The lady on the couch patted the seat beside her. ‘‘Bring your book and come and sit with me.’’

    Aleksandr looked at his mother. ‘‘Can I go sit with Karen?’’

    Ann answered her question before she could ask. ‘‘That’s Adrik’s wife. They got married last week.’’

    Tasya indicated the gruff-looking older man who stood by the kitchen door, looking panicked by the overflowing emotions. ‘‘That’s Karen’s father. There was a battle with the Varinskis, and he helped.’’

    ‘‘I was only gone one day.’’ Firebird gazed at her long-lost brother, at his new wife. If things were normal, she would have spent the evening asking about his life, listening to his stories, meeting the people he’d brought home with him—his new wife and new father-in-law.

    Distantly, she was ashamed for ruining Adrik’s homecoming. But today . . . today she thought that things would never again be normal.

    ‘‘Mama!’’ Aleksandr tugged at her shirt. ‘‘I want to go see Karen.’’

    ‘‘Go on.’’ She gave him a boost and watched him as he ran across the room. ‘‘He crawled at six months,’’ she murmured. ‘‘He walked at nine months. He talked early. He puts together puzzles. He builds with blocks. He’s so smart. . . .’’

    ‘‘We all love him.’’ Tasya fumbled for the right thing to say. ‘‘He’s still the only baby in the family.’’

    Firebird laughed, a brief, slightly hysterical laugh.

    The bathroom door opened and Zorana came out, her eyes red and damp.

    Firebird scrambled to her feet and stood awkwardly. ‘‘Mama, I’m sorry.’’

    Zorana hurried toward her.

    They met in the middle of the living room.

    ‘‘I know. I’m sorry, too.’’ With all her strength, Zorana hugged Firebird.

    Firebird hugged her back, and realized how great was the difference between them.

    Zorana was exotic, five-one, and wiry, with black hair, and eyes so dark they looked black. Her skin was a beautiful, clear brown, tolerant of the sun and proof of her Romany heritage.

    Firebird was five-four, blond and blue-eyed, with fair skin that required the constant application of sunscreen. Her heritage was probably Irish or English or German. Not Russian, and not Romany.

    Zorana said fiercely, ‘‘When you first looked at me, you captured my heart, and I don’t care what that stupid Seattle doctor said. You are mine. My child. Forever.’’

    All around the Wilders’ cramped living room, Firebird’s family sat or stood, sniffed or tried to smile or glared in impotent fury as they realized how they’d been betrayed by people they trusted. Firebird’s three brothers, Jasha, Rurik and Adrik. Her three sisters-in-law, Ann, Tasya, and Karen. Karen’s father. And Firebird’s parents. Oh, God, her parents. She loved them all so much—and she was nothing to them.

    Only her son was of her blood. Only Aleksandr, who sat tucked beside Karen, trusting because he’d never met anyone who wished him ill.

    ‘‘You are the best mother anyone could ever have,’’ Firebird told Zorana, and in a world full of sudden uncertainties, that, at least, was true.

    ‘‘Too bad she named you for a car.’’ Adrik had been gone far too long, yet he hadn’t forgotten the family joke.

    ‘‘No, you impudent boy. We named her after the legend of the bird with such brilliant plumage a single feather would light up the room. We knew our daughter would be like that.’’ Konstantine, bound to his recliner by the terrible weakness generated by his illness, held out his arms to Firebrand and Zorana. ‘‘And so she is.’’

    Zorana took Firebird’s hand and went to him. Taking care not to disturb the IV line that ran into his arm, Zorana snuggled beside him.

    Right now, Firebird didn’t feel much like a hundred-watt lightbulb. She felt like a woman who had spent the