"Hex you," I snarled, backing as far away from him as I could. "What are you even doing here?"

"You stole something of mine," he said. "When that happens, I find the person who took it and get the item back. I'd prefer to do it without a fuss, Joanne."

"You're a slaver," I said. "You don't get to decide what you keep and what you don't."

Grigorii sighed and depressed the button to open the security gate. He came within arm's reach of me and tapped his finger on his chin. "Do you remember what happened the last time we got this close, Joanne? Or is it Luna? Luna Wilder? That were, Kirov, was quite confused by the time I finished with him."

I flinched. Grigorii patted me down and took away my gun. I let him. I hadn't forgotten the punch he packed. "Well? Which is it?"

"Luna," I said. "I seem to remember last time we were close, I smashed your pretty face in, tied you up, and stole enough evidence to put you in a dark and unpleasant Russian prison for seven lifetimes."

Grigorii chuckled. "Do you know who I'm named for, Luna?"

"I have a feeling you're going to tell me." Could I Path Grigorii's energy, if I was ready? There was some magick I couldn't absorb. Could I take the chance, knowing what he'd do to me if I didn't overpower him? Masha and Dmitri were depending on me to get out of this in one piece.

"Grigorii Rasputin," he said. "The advisor to the Romanovs, whom they poisoned, shot, stabbed, beat, castrated and finally drowned. Some say that even with these ministrations, Rasputin did not die but instead used his power to rise again, stronger than before. And that is me as well, Luna. You may think you have drowned the last remainders of my spirit, but I will dog you for a lifetime, like a sentient shadow, until I get what I desire."

"Spooky," I said. I definitely couldn't risk trying to Path his energy now, stuck in this lab as I was. I had to talk my way out of this. "That's supposed to scare me into giving the laptop back?"

"One lives on hope," Grigorii said in the same dry tone. His hand flashed out and he grabbed me by the hair, bending my head back and exposing my neck. "Something else to consider-if you don't give it back, I'll be forced to kill that brute you left back in the village. And the fat sow, too. Such a shame. But this is a dangerous part of the world, and tourists often run into unfortunate trouble."

I swallowed the sudden dry lump in the back of my throat. "You make a good case."

"And your decision?" Grigorii said. I unstrapped my bag and held the laptop.

"One condition."

"You're in no position to bargain, but name it. It might be mildly amusing."

"You let me see Masha Sandovsky after I give this to you."

Grigorii snorted, and it turned into a full-blown laugh. "But of course. That was my intention all along."

Huh. Could have fooled me. "I asked after Sandovsky when the two of you ... visited me," Grigorii said. He snatched the laptop from my grip with surprising speed. "He's been sniffing around my establishment for a few weeks, and it seems I did did sell his daughter. Ironic. Most weres know to leave us be, but not him. Particularly dense, that one." He gestured for me to walk ahead of him, and we wound through a maze of corridors, all equally featureless and gray. sell his daughter. Ironic. Most weres know to leave us be, but not him. Particularly dense, that one." He gestured for me to walk ahead of him, and we wound through a maze of corridors, all equally featureless and gray.

"Why are you here?" I asked again. "This is an awfully long way from Kiev just to gloat at me."

"I'm a businessman, Luna," Grigorii said. "And when my business is challenged, I take steps to ensure it doesn't happen again. I told you, Luna. I'm a troubleshooter."

We descended a set of narrow stairs painted with bright red warnings, about falling or running, I imagined. There were doors along this corridor, doors with small round windows and heavy locks that the cop in me knew could only be one thing. "This is a jail," I said.

"A containment facility," Grigorii corrected me. "For test subjects. And now, for my business interest and the women who serve it."

He looked down to the end of the cell row, where a figure sat at a switchboard. "Sixteen, please."

The door buzzed, and swung open with a Dr. Caligari Dr. Caligari style creak. I balked reflexively at the darkness inside. Grigorii put his hand on the small of my back, rubbing in circles. Caressing. "Easy, Luna. I won't let anything bad befall you." style creak. I balked reflexively at the darkness inside. Grigorii put his hand on the small of my back, rubbing in circles. Caressing. "Easy, Luna. I won't let anything bad befall you."

I gave a loud growl. "That is really not a good idea, sport."

"As you say," he smiled. He gave me a hard shove and I fell forward into the cell. Grigorii dusted his hands off on a crisp red handkerchief. "Luna, meet your Masha Sandovsky. I'm sure the two of you will become fast friends." He turned his head. "Close sixteen."

The door slammed shut and darkness closed over my head like cold water, but this time I peered into it, trying to see something, anything. I blinked and let my eyes shift, the silver tones jumping out at me, detailing a bench bed with no mattress, a steel toilet bolted to the floor and a hunched figure next to it, her forehead on her knees.

"Masha?" I whispered.

She raised her head a fraction. "Yeah, what of it?"

A swell of relief built in my chest and I inhaled and exhaled the stale air. "Your father sent me. He's been looking for you for a while."

Masha made a derisive sound in the back of her throat. "Dmitri?"

"Do you have another father?"

She blew out a breath. "The dude doesn't show up for most of my life and then suddenly he's all in my business. Whatever."

"Listen," I said. "You're here because you made some shitty choices and your dad came after you. He's trying, Masha-and I know for a fact that he is going to be really, really fucking glad you're all right."

"That's nice and all," she muttered. "But I'm not getting out of here."

"Not true," I said. "I'm going to take you back to your dad and he's going to take you home."

"You're in this cell same as me," she said. "So, good job there."

I grimaced. "I wasn't expecting Belikov to show up and ambush me."

Masha sighed. "He does that. But hey, at least you know he won't kill you. At least not until you're not useful anymore."

"Meaning what?" I asked her.

Masha lifted her head. "You'll find out. Someone comes every day around this time and..." She sighed. "You'll just find out, okay?"

The door clicked open again with a buzz, and I recognized the silhouette immediately. "Mikel," I said. "It's been too long. Threatened anyone who can't fight back lately?"

"Get up," he said. "The both of you."

Masha got up and shuffled into the hall obediently. I followed her, keeping my eyes on Mikel. He smirked at me. "Locked up again. Bad habit with you."

"Before I leave here, I'm going to punch you right in that smirk," I told him.

Mikel led us down the corridor to a set of steel doors. "Through there," he said. "You know what will happen if you misbehave."

I looked to Masha. "What's he insinuating?"

She sighed heavily as we were buzzed into a small steel hallway with doors at either end. The drains in the floor and the sprinklers overhead spoke to the chamber's old purpose. I shivered. What exactly did we need to be decontaminated from?

"Just sit still and let the doctor examine you," Masha said. "Otherwise, Mr. Belikov gets furious." She touched a scar on her eyebrow. "I tried to fight back. Once."

I thought of what Grigorii must have done to herand winced, my stomach rebelling with a boil of nausea.

The door at the other end of the chamber opened with a clang, and we stepped into a white space, white tiles and white floors, white lights beating down, sterilizing all of the color from the air.

A small dark-haired man with a full gray moustache stood behind a steel table. White lab coat, subdued blue shirt and tie, blue nitrile gloves. "Masha," he said. "And a new girl, how nice." He inclined his bald head at Mikel. "She is a genetic match?"

Mikel shrugged. "That's for you to find out. Belikov just wants her here."

"And you are?" I said to the doctor. Masha went behind a surgical screen and started to undress.

"I am Dr. Emil Gorshkov," he said. "I work with Grigorii. What is your name?"

Mikel frowned. "Less talk, more testing."

Gorshkov raised a hand. "Please. This is my laboratory space. What is your name, girl?"

"Joanne." I didn't want this ever-smiling, bald, cold-eyed doctor to know my real name for reasons I couldn't quite bring clear even in my own head.

"Joanne. Common." He sniffed, his moustache twitching. "Please, undress and put on a gown."

Okay, Luna. Easy. Nothing to be gained by freaking out on the guy and causing a scene. I needed to figure out what was going on here and how the hell I was going to get Masha and me clear without Grigorii killing Dmitri.

"What kind of doctor are you?" I said, stepping behind the screen when Masha exited. White gowns hung in a row, the old kind that wrapped around your waist like in a black-and-white movie set in a mental asylum.

"That's really not your concern," Dr. Gorshkov said. "On the table, Masha. There's a good girl."

I peered around the screen, taking my sweet time getting undressed. Gorshkov turned his back to me, and he rolled an instrument tray over to Masha. "How are you feeling, my dear?"

My dear? He could be anyone's family doctor, checking perfunctorily on his patient as he swabbed her arm with alcohol and grabbed a syringe. Everything was old in this place, like the set of a horror movie. He could be anyone's family doctor, checking perfunctorily on his patient as he swabbed her arm with alcohol and grabbed a syringe. Everything was old in this place, like the set of a horror movie. Dawn of the Former Soviet Werewolf Dead Dawn of the Former Soviet Werewolf Dead. All we needed was a shopping mall.

"I'm tired all the time," Masha said. "And I threw up this morning, before you brought that weirdo woman into my cell. I don't like her."

I curled my lip. Either she was trying to throw Belikov and the doctor off the scent, or she was a real brat, even in captivity.

"Gene therapy isn't a walk in the park, Masha," said the doctor. "You are becoming something so much stronger than what you are now. All of my patients were strong, and were rewarded. You must bear these ills with a good attitude or you won't reap the rewards they did."

"It's taking so long," Masha complained. "I feel sick all the time."

"Masha," the doctor sighed. "You are my special child, yes?"

"Yes," she muttered, slouching.

Gorshkov withdrew the syringe and capped it, handing Masha a bandage. "Then trust me when I say that I will tell you everything you need to know about the process and that feeling sick is normal." He patted her cheek. "You are a healthy girl. You'll get through it."

I stepped from behind the curtain. "So I'm guessing this isn't a spa day."

Dr. Gorshkov frowned at me. "Mr. Belikov put you in my care, so I'll thank you to stop with that mouthy manner you have. Sit on the table."

"Did someone say gene therapy?" I said, turning over the possible permutations of what that could mean in my head. None of them made me jump for joy. "What are you doing to us? What changes?"

"Sit. " The doctor's eyes darkened, and he took up a new syringe, pointing it at the exam table.

"All right, all right," I said, sitting down. The cold metal made my legs break into goose bumps. "Stab away, Bones," I said. "Hey, can I get you to say 'He's dead, Jim'? The accent would make make that." that."

The doctor glared at me as he grabbed my arm, thumped the skin to bring up a vein and jabbed the syringe in. I let out a small yelp. The large-bore needle hurt like a bitch.

"You talk a great deal and don't say anything," he muttered. "Save your breath and keep quiet. Mr. Belikov likes girls who are obedient."

"I could give a flying fuck what Mr. Belikov likes," I muttered. Gorshkov jerked the needle out and didn't offer me a bandage. I grabbed a piece of cotton off the surgical tray and pressed it over the wound. While I was at it, I palmed the small pair of surgical scissors lying next to the gauze pads. Never hurts to be prepared. You can improvise a lot of things with scissors.

The doctor walked my blood over to a centrifuge and set up a vial, spinning it. "We'll type your DNA, and we'll see what you're suitable for." He gestured me to the padded hospital bed, where Masha was sitting and staring at her knees. "You wait over there. No talking. Talking disturbs my concentration."

I went and slumped next to Masha. The gown was too small for me, and it itched in all the nooks and crannies. "Well, he's a bundle of fun."

"I'm not supposed to talk in the exam room," Masha whispered. "Mr. Belikov gets angry."

I reached over to the bed stand and grabbed a prescription pad and a pen. What is G doing? What is G doing? I scribbled. I scribbled.

Masha looked at me, at Gorshkov, who was watching the centrifuge spin with the gentle, dopey eyes of a toddler staring at Barney. She grabbed the pad and scribbled back. Is my dad really @ Stop 13? Is my dad really @ Stop 13?

I nodded.

Giving me injections I don't know what of I'm sick all the time.

Gorshkov moved my blood from the centrifuge to a set of test tubes with a pipette, the same process I'd seen at the police academy when we learned about DNA typing and matching.

What is G looking for? I asked Masha. I asked Masha.

She bit her lip and wrote. A perfect match A perfect match.

"File cabinets," she said, her voice barely there at all. "Hundreds of them. There are all of these files, medical files. I saw them once when Belikov took me away to..." She went quiet, crimson climbing into her cheeks.

I put my hand over hers and gave it a squeeze. Gorshkov's head snapped up, like he could smell insurgency. "No touching! You will sit quietly and behave yourselves."

The next person who told me to behave myself was going to get a foot straight into the ass. "Stick with me," I whispered to Masha. "I won't let them do anything else to you."

She chewed her lip. "Promise?"

I nodded. "Cross my heart and hope to die."

Masha gave me a smile that was almost grateful before she dropped her eyes again.

"No match," Gorshkov announced, his voice sharp with disappointment. "You are useless, Joanne. Mikel, return both of them to holding."

I stood up. "I'm not the girl of your dreams, Doc? Color me crushed."

"Go!" he snapped at me, pointing to the way out through the decontamination chamber. My jaw tightened. I could confront the smug little worm, or I could stick with Masha. I exhaled, forcing myself to stay docile, and followed her out, listening to the door clang shut behind us like a tomb.