Jassy
I wasn't sure what was more uncomfortable: the wire beneath my top, the gun tucked into my boot, or having to watch the birthday party right next door to us as we met with Aleksey in the park. The three of us stood out like sore thumbs, but not quite as badly as the half-dozen Thunder Riders who weren't more than twenty paces away.
Aleksey wasn't what I'd expected. He was tall and slim, and seemed to keep himself in good shape. His face was hard, though, with the no nonsense look of a Cossack. Cold, uncaring, cruel when he needed to prove a point. But, unlike Sven, he had impeccable taste. His suit was well tailored, his clothes perfectly cut. No Russian mobster cliché, there.
The Wolf's gray eyes peered out at Karl from beneath a heavy brow, taking his measure with each word that
