Ripped: A Slavic Urban Fantasy Series (Kozlov Chronicles Book 3) Read online

  Copyright © 2022 by Elena Sobol All rights reserved. No

  portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission from the

  publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. No part of this book may

  be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission

  except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or

  reviews. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events and

  incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used

  fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or

  locales, are entirely coincidental.

  Author website: www.elenasobol.net

  Front Cover: coversbychristian.com

  Editing: copybykath.com

  Contents

  1. CHAPTER ONE

  2. CHAPTER TWO

  3. CHAPTER THREE

  4. CHAPTER FOUR

  5. CHAPTER FIVE

  6. CHAPTER SIX

  7. CHAPTER SEVEN

  8. CHAPTER EIGHT

  9. CHAPTER NINE

  10. CHAPTER TEN

  11. CHAPTER ELEVEN

  12. CHAPTER TWELVE

  13. CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  14. CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  15. CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  16. CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  17. CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  18. CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  19. CHAPTER NINETEEN

  20. CHAPTER TWENTY

  21. CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  22. CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  23. CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

  24. CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

  1

  The entire time I'd hidden from my cousins, I never thought they would be hard to find when I went looking for them. Golo spent years tracking me down and now couldn't even bother to show up and try to kick my ass. Seriously, it was enough to give a guy a complex.

  I cursed the demigod of bad luck for the tenth time as the ice mites burst into ice shards. I swept up my arm to block my face. My hands got the worst of it. Their mistress turned on me as I connected my daggers. A war scythe burst into flame between my hands.

  The ice wraith whirled before me like a fidget spinner. Her haired whipped around her face. Ice mites shot out in all directions. The least lucky ones found my scythe and melted in mid-air.

  This was the fifth monster-infested cabin I’d found. In the USA alone. Like at all the others, instead of Golo, I had only found bloodthirsty spooks attracted to the traces of his magic.

  Focusing my irritation on my immediate threat, I sliced through a white, frost-covered claw that reached for my heart. The wraith screeched as her hand parted from her wrist. It thudded onto the snow-covered floor. Her face still looked human enough to contort as she screeched. Undoubtedly, she had expected easier prey when she stalked me in here. That's right, lady. I wasn't your average thrill-seeking white boy, out of his depth in a Wisconsin forest.

  Her myriad children descended onto my leather coat. The ice mites were half the size of wood sprites and meaner than a swarm of hornets. I swatted at the one that went for my throat. It was too fast for me. The tiny ice peaks that it had for teeth pierced through the skin under my scarf. Its friends followed, but most of them got a mouthful of wool for their trouble. I thanked Alysa for nagging me into wearing a scarf. Silently. The ferret was smug enough.

  The ice wraith went for my guts with her other hand. I fell back and out of the way. Her claw left deep scars in a wooden table. I didn't bother slicing it off. It was getting late and I had places to be. My scythe whistled through the air and dug deep into the frozen flatness than used to be her belly.

  The ice mites went still. Then, they showered onto the ground like hale. The wraith's eyes locked onto mine as she crumbled into a pile of ash and ice. She was human, once. Ever since my ignorance had almost gotten me killed last fall, I've been reading up on my competition. And ice wraiths were an especially nasty variant of a human-based monster that had murdered a loved one. It was hard to feel bad for the human she used to be. With how long it had taken me to dispatch her, she was probably responsible for a whole board of "MISSING" posters in the local town.

  "Is she gone?" a cautious voice came from the door. A pink-nosed, scarf-bound Alysa peeked into the opening. Her blue hair was frosted at the tips. She was wearing a pea coat and a pair of those sheep boots that looked like a total overkill but were probably the best thing ever. She had been helping me search for Golo in the last three months. Ever since Vizg told me he might be helping his not-so-dead mother, I've been searching for him night and day. Clearly, he didn't want to be found. That was too bad. Because my determination to find him and throttle him grew with every abandoned cabin.

  "Yeah," I said to her, my eyes already searching the cabin. "All clear."

  "Brrr," she complained. "Why couldn't Golo be hiding out somewhere nice? Like Hawaii or something?"

  "Because he's a cold-hearted ass," I said. "With small-dick energy."

  She chortled.

  The cabin was Spartan by anyone's standard. There weren't even posters on the walls. The floorboards were charred in places which hinted at the presence of ovinniks. A few months ago, I almost got roasted by my cousin's fire cats. Today, I would give one a freaking hug. The roof was caving in and only a soot-covered fireplace hinted at a modicum of comfort. No-one had been here in weeks. What was he doing here, I wondered. But then, what was he doing anywhere?

  I kicked around the table, the chair, and the bed. I dug underneath the latter and found a loose floorboard. Digging into my cousin's secret stash was all kinds of cringy. Who knew what the crazy bastard kept down there? But I didn't have a choice. Golo had spent the last few months moving through the country like a hippie in a van. The best I could do was follow the divination crumbs that my grandmother gave me. Diving in, I felt around inside.

  I found an oblong shape and pulled it out. It was a rectangular box, the kind that kids keep their pens in. I opened it. There was a gnawed-on pencil and a rolled-up brochure. I unrolled it.

  "Treasures of Thailand," I read out loud. "See the shadow play of Ramakien and experience the epic tale that has endured for generations." A golden statue of someone so stylized I could only guess at an ape shape leered back at me from the cover. A colorful picture of a mermaid with a twisted, pointed crown. It was charred at the edges. The cheery brochure was so out of place, I would've been less surprised to find a severed head. "You've got to be kidding me."

  "Thailand..." Alysa murmured. "That doesn't make any sense. What would Golo want with a Thai display in—" she squinted at the page, "Madison, Wisconsin?"

  "This was two months ago," I shrugged and leafed through the pages. "We found a lock of blonde hair, and a bag of dried apples in the last two cabins. Maybe he's just collecting weird stuff."

  I lamented the wasted time. Three months! For three months I've been looking for the gods-forsaken son of Likho. I ground my teeth and resisted the urge to ball the brochure up in my fist. Instead, I tucked it inside my jacket. I stood and brushed the snow off my knees. My scythe was leaning against the wall and I gripped the handle, looking for reassurance. It gave me none. I hated not feeling the earth through my connection. Nature slept too deeply in the winter. I wanted to feel the energy beneath my feet. Also, I just hadn't had enough chances to play with my scythe's abilities. The winter happened too quickly, which was a major suck. I just added that specific suck to the list.

  "Maybe you should add him on social media," Alysa teased. "Send him a fri
end request."

  I glared at her. "This isn't funny."

  She cocked an eyebrow. "What isn't funny is you being a bummer for the last three months." She shivered and checked her phone. "We're late to James' concert. And Golo—" she cast a meaningful glance around the room, "can definitely wait."

  She didn't wait for me to agree before she shifted. The medium-height girl in a trendy pea coat blurred in my vision. In seconds, a blue ferret landed on a patch of snow with a puff. I grumbled as she crawled up my leg. She didn't get it. She couldn't. Golo had been up to some nefarious shit, and I couldn't stop until I pinned that psychotic s.o.b. down and made him tell me all about his mommy. My stomach tilted sideways as she pulled us through realities.

  I wish I could say that the air was sweet and warm where Alysa portalled us. However, we were home.

  Salt Lake City greeted us with frosted streets and passersby hunched against the cold as they went about the hurried task of last-minute Christmas shopping. Despite this, my mood lifted a bit. I much preferred to freeze my balls off in the comfort of my own city. There wouldn't be any rogue ice wraiths here. The supernatural community kept the monster population under control. And the ones still around came over for drinks on Saturday night.

  Alysa portalled us behind some garbage cans that faced the street. Her portalling wasn't precise when she carried an additional person. However, I recognized the street sign. My house was only a few blocks away.

  She shook out her fur and transformed back into a narrow-faced girl. Her eyes were so green I could still see their color in the dusk. Not too long ago, I had thought I had a solid crush on her. But in the light of recent events—and some other very distracting people in our lives—I've put any feelings I had for her firmly on pause.

  Our feet crunched on the snow as we crossed the street. I glanced at the ferret. Her eyebrow was furrowed and there was a faraway look in her eye.

  "How's the Spiral job going?" I asked. "Everything cool?"

  Her lips pressed together. "Agent Fronima wants me to help Killian transport an artifact."

  Agent Killian was some sort of a triple-faced entity that was also a triple threat of interdimensional travel. He could find me anywhere in the universe using a drop of my blood. Presumably, he kept it somewhere like a trophy. The guy gave me the creeps.

  "Does that mean you can't help me go to—" I checked my phone for the next location Baba Yaga's divination had given me. I opened the maps application and zoomed in. The address was to an apartment in a run-down part of New York City. "Crack Town Central?" The last drug den I'd tracked him down to left such a stink in my clothes Domo almost kicked me out of the house.

  She sniffed. "Sounds like a good solo trip."

  "Alysa—" I gave her my best puppy dog stare. "I hate planes."

  She gasped, her eyes wide in mock horror. "You'd have to fly economy!"

  I suppressed a sigh. If there was one place less hospitable in the winter than Wisconsin forest, it was New York. All I wanted to do was go home and draw myself a bath. Maybe pull out a bottle of my house red and make mulled wine. Alas, it was Friday night and my roommate James had turned our house into a stage. With Min-Ho playing lead guitar, our two-story craftsman was likely filled with nu metal heads and enough liquor to burn down a corn field. A few months ago, that would've suited me just fine. Today, I wanted to curl up into a ball and die rather than socialize. Golo had taken over my thoughts. He was like a boss in a video game I couldn't defeat. It drove me so crazy I couldn't enjoy the side quests. I decided that it was a Future Dmitry problem. Today's Dmitry still had to survive James' unrelenting enthusiasm.

  Music rolled toward us as we crossed the front yard to the house. Crooked Christmas lights blinked in time with the beat. The cold air carried cigarette smoke and the smell of cologne. Nodding at the partiers, I beelined for a beautiful long-legged woman that leaned against the pillar. She looked athletic, with muscles that were obvious even under the bomber jacket. Her hooded eyes rested on me. Only I could see the tattoos that ran down both cheeks and merged on her chin before disappearing under her turtleneck. Her glamour also covered her pointed ears. My demigod blood stripped away the illusion. Coria grinned at me with cat-like teeth and took a sip of her beer. It was one of my ales. I was suddenly thirsty.

  "You look awful, demigod," she said.

  "Thanks. You're pretty, too," I said and snatched the bottle from her hand. She looked amused.

  "Bad day?" she asked.

  I took a sip. It was my American pale ale that I named Stinky Minky to spite Alysa. It was the most pine-like flavor I've ever introduced to my line. You could smell it from a foot away. Still delicious, of course. I made it, duh. I swallowed deeper.

  "He wasn't there," I said when I came up for air.

  She took back her beer and frowned at the half-empty bottle. "Sometimes you need to stop chasing prey and let it come to you."

  Coria was a monster hunter. Her dark elf tribe sent her all over the world to collect beasts. Keeping them contained by alchemical means, she could turn into any of them at any time. Still, I was tired of all the advice. Even the good bits. Hell, after months of searching, I could come up with a few "good bits of advice" myself.

  "Likho killed my mother," I said stiffly. "I have to see if Vizg told the truth, and Golo is doing some necromantic shit to bring her back." It wasn’t likely, but I owed it to myself to investigate.

  Pressing her lips together, Coria inclined her head. She was an heir to her tribe's matriarchal throne. She knew all about family honor.

  James' raspy baritone tugged at my ears. Two blond girls standing next to me sighed and gave the door leading inside a misty look. Even on his worst day, my roommate was a panty-dropper. I resigned myself to a long night. Alysa was right. I had officially turned into a bummer.

  As if hearing my thoughts, the shifter pushed past people to stand next to me. She rubbed her mittens together, and wrinkled her pink nose at the cigarette smell. Coria gave her a thirsty smile. I wasn't the only one sporting a raging crush on the pretty ferret. Except my dark elf roommate didn't bother hiding it.

  "Hello, beautiful," she drawled. "You really look like you could use some warmth tonight."

  Alysa colored and I swear I heard her giggle. How in the world could the elf say the creepiest shit to her and get that reaction? I'd get a swift kick in the butt.

  Tired beyond belief, I left them to it. I pushed my shoulder against the door.

  "You owe me a beer!" Coria called at my back.

  Fruity vapor hit my nose and my head spun from the concentration of nicotine in the air. My house spirit, Domo, was going to lose his mind. Elbowing past the swaying, intoxicated crowd that packed into my living room, I pushed through. I had no time for a party. I had maps to read and a cousin to track down.

  The stage was just a series of wooden pallets Min-Ho had "borrowed" from my warehouse. They were stacked like Legos. Lights shone on top of James' head of curly auburn hair and his wide-shouldered frame. Min-Ho, his hair curtaining his face, did that pitchy thing with his guitar that rang in my ears. Even with half his face hidden, he looked like a Kpop star. Overkyll, the nu metal band that was a bit of a legend on the streets of Salt Lake City, was killing it at their private concert.

  James stopped singing when he saw me. With a squeal of the speakers he pointed his microphone at my chest.

  "Everyone shut up!" he commanded. It barely stopped the noise. "This one is for my roommie!" he howled at the crowd. "My best friend, and the coolest dude alive, Dmitry!"

  Cheers erupted around me. Hands were clapping my shoulders and elbows nudged me. I tried looking a little less stone-faced as James began his song. I hadn't heard that one before. Fatigue crashed over me. And I still had such a long night ahead of me. Couldn't James pick a better time to make me the center of attention?

  Over the roar of the crowd in the small space of my living room, I barely heard the music. Let alone the lyrics. James' head bobbed to the beat a
s he spat something into the microphone. When the howls and cheers rose to explosive levels, I sneaked through the crowd. I walked past a couple of girls stretched halfway across the kitchen table, making out.

  "Excuse me," I grumbled as I reached past them to the fridge. They gave me a confused look. I grabbed a bottle of red wine and shuffled down into my basement. Who had time for hot girls rubbing their faces on each other? Not this demiguy.

  In my basement, I walked around the papers thrown all over the floor. My normally out-of-control petunias, aloe, and climbing vines looked yellow and stunted in their growth. My mood soured further at the sight of them. Instead of aromatic fermentation, the room smelled like vinegar. Some demigod of the harvest I was. My frustration over Golo didn't mix well with winter blues. Good thing I had a proper employee now—a clever kid called Mark—to run the warehouse. If it wasn't for him, I would've gone out of business.

  There was a pile of magical maps on my table. I took off my heavy winter jacket and tossed it onto a pile of discarded clothes. I hadn't allowed Domo to clean my room in a week.

  I gathered a pile of road maps that I had collected. Magic didn't work on electronics so I had to go it old school. I've been over them time and time again. But maybe I had missed something. Likho was somewhere out there. Alive, or close enough to it that Golo was running her errands. Maybe. I needed to know what he was up to. Yesterday.

  Using a magic pendant that was guided by my intent, I dangled it over the maps. The map of Vyraj. The map of the United States. Every state individually. Europe. I even dug out a map of Asia, remembering the brochure I found. Nothing. I poured myself a cup of wine. I lacked focus. That had to be it.

  Hours rolled by and my eyes started to hurt. The music subsided upstairs. Knocks on my door came and went. I ignored them all. My wine bottle was getting lower and my irritation was getting higher. I tossed the pendant across the room and rubbed my aching eyes. Where was the fiery bastard?

  A bang and a sizzle made me drop my hands. Across the room, above the drooping elephant ear plant was a fist-sized figure. It buzzed on twiggy wings that looked like torn leaves. The wood sprite grinned with teeth that were literal toothpicks.