“I do not trust Kosti,” Morozko hissed, looking at Anya.  “I do not like how he danced with you.  I do not like how that blasted koldun even looked at you.”

“You know that he is a koldun too?” Anya asked.

“Of course he is.”  Morozko wiped dust from his jacket.  “A powerful one.”

Anya shivered.  “He creeps me out.”  Anya did not want to admit that she was also intrigued by Kosti, albeit in a sickening way.

Later that night, as Anya slaved over homework at her rickety desk in the kitchen, Iosif came in, his fur bristling as he swept.  He moved about frantically. 

“Whatever is wrong, Osya?”...