Dirty Lying Dragons

2. Hot Water

free chapter 2/7

Ryker

Somewhere in the Siberian plain

The air was pleasantly crisp on my warm skin as I walked through the paths around my cabin. Late spring sat comfortably in the budding trees and fragrant breeze. The string of my bow strained against my chest as I carried it slung on my back, my arms were full with a freshly killed stag. The clean arrow wound through its heart dripped blood down my skin until it reached the top of my worn out jeans.

I hauled the kill behind my cabin to the small spring where I had set up a cleaning station. A stainless steel table and sharpened instruments were kept safely under a small overhang. I set down the stag and unstrung my bow inside the cabin.

My hair was getting long again, probably time for my annual haircut. I pushed it out of my face and grabbed my favorite knife. I tossed the stag onto the table out back and began cleaning it.

Carefully, I skinned the great beast. The antlers I cleaned off and tossed in a pile with a few others to be dealt with later. I took my time cutting the skin free, it was a beautiful pelt and I should be able to make something with it later. I had just started cutting the meat when a subtle noise caught my attention.

I turned, throwing the butcher knife in my hand to my target. The blade sank deep into the tree I noted, satisfied. A man with a trim red beard and grey at his temples was leaning against the assaulted pine tree. He raised one thick eyebrow in question, no surprise on his face at all.

"It's good ta see you too," The man mused, his Russian slurred with a Scottish accent.

"Got a lead, Gavin?" I grunted.

Gavin shrugged. "That depends on how interested you are. I don't have much worth your time."

"Hit me," I said, turning back to the stag and grabbing a new knife.

"There's a rogue warlock in Italy running rampant and the family wants it dealt with quietly." Gavin pulled the knife from the tree with a grunt and inspected it.

"Nope," I said.

"Hmm. The packs in Mongolia are fighting again. I'm sure either side would pay you for your services." Gavin walked over to the spring, cleaning off the knife.

"Not really in the mood to play with the wolves just now." I wrapped a few cuts of meat in butcher paper and set them aside.

"Well, there are a few whispers that a house of bloodsuckers in North America is looking for covenless witches. Their contacts in Moscow said they're paying a decent pocket per witch." Gavin set the clean knife on the table.

"How much?" I asked. I wrapped the rest of the cuts of meat and began carrying them to the large outdoor deep freezer.

"Half a million rubles," Gavin said with a grin. "A tempting sum for easy work."

"I'm not hunting down a bunch of little girls for some leech." I placed the last cut of meat in the freezer and started cleaning up the remaining mess of entrails and bones on the table. "What do they even want with lone witches?"

"Who knows?" Gavin tilted his head and scratched his beard. "Well, suit yourself then. Like I said, didn't have much for ya this time."

"What brings you this far east if not a job anyway?" I asked.

"Passing through to see Vissic. Thought I'd say hello and make sure you're still a grouchy hermit." He grinned. "Glad to see some things haven't changed."