2. Chapter Two

Chapter Two

Z oya

Only now do my emotions catch up with me. Although I’ve been fantasizing about running away for months, I never imagined how terrifying this would be. I’m alone. Completely and utterly alone.

Stop Zoya. Concentrate. Decide on your next steps.

Normal people don’t seek out strangers to marry from thousands of miles away. Desperate people who have no other viable options are the ones who do that. I’m one of eight children and my parents’ farm was hit hard by the Russians after I left home. I can’t ask them for help. They’re struggling with other, more life and death, issues.

I’m sure I’m wanted by the U.S. authorities. At least that’s what Max has been telling me. He brought me here on promises of undying love and a life of ease. Then he abused me, kept me penniless and locked inside the house, and refused to marry me. I’m now on an expired Visa and have nowhere to turn.

Ridiculous and tragic as it is, my only hope is that one of the inhabitants of the Zone will harbor me until I can sort things out. My hands are fluttering in anxiety and my mouth is dry. My heart is pounding in my chest and my thoughts are flying in a thousand directions.

Forcing myself to hang onto my fragile hope, I walk the quiet streets of the Zone. I live only a few blocks away in one of the shabbiest parts of the city. The pictures Max sent of his house looked like a palace to a peasant like me. Of course, those pictures, like the pictures of the man himself, were lies.

Even Max’s cluttered, cramped apartment seems like a palace compared to this. This is a ghetto. I understand, though. These people fell to Earth with nothing but the clothes on their backs and have had few opportunities since then. As old and run-down as these dwellings are, they look clean.

I don’t know what to do other than to wander aimlessly as I try to sort out my options. At least Max can’t hurt me here.

“Halt!”

Blin! I haven’t been inside the fence for ten minutes and someone has already found me. I sink to my knees as I put my hands high in the air, my heart fluttering fast and loud as a drum.

“Who are you? What do you want?” a deep male voice snaps from behind me.

My imagination flies with ideas about who is shouting at me like that. Although it could be human police, it’s more likely to be an angry Other wanting to know why a human has invaded their protected space.

When I don’t answer, he asks again. This time his voice is closer… and more menacing. “What are you doing here?”

He’s only a few feet behind me… and irritated… and male . I’d better answer or I’m sure I’ll regret it.

“Uh…” My mind has stopped. Simply ground to a halt. What lie shall I tell? That I’m lost? Right. I lifted that heavy chain link and crawled under it by accident.

That I’m visiting a friend? He’d have to be an idiot to believe a human is here for any good reason at this time of night.

Before I can stop myself, I manage to croak out one simple, heartfelt word. “Help!”

His tread is light on the pavement as he moves into my line of sight. Dear God. He’s tall. And furred. With wolf ears and, heaven help me, four long fangs, exposed with his snarl, shimmering in the moonlight.

“What the fuck are you doing here, female?”

I want to answer him. I do. It’s just that my thoughts are whirling as though they’re in the eye of a hurricane. A hundred ideas of how to answer his question—lies and partial truths—fly through my mind, but the best I can come up with is to repeat, “Help?”