Dark Ice (21 page)

It hissed as she continued to scream hysterically and squirm. Hurried knocks at the door were now followed by frantic voices, screaming for her safety.

The
wendigo
pulled her from the bed. She was dressed in black and white stripped flannel pajamas and thick black socks. Her top was now smeared with blood, her trousers loose around her waist.

Bitter anger flared deep within the
wendigo
. It knew that she and the bear man had coupled only hours ago, he’d smelled it on both of them. But now she lay fully clothed.

Part of him expected her naked, wanted her that way. Vulnerable toward him in every way.

She continued to struggle and the
wendigo
tired of it. It cradled her against his chest. She finally fell silent. A revolted snear curved her mouth and she gagged, trying to get away, pushing at his chest and yet trying not to touch him.

Anger flared, this time more potent than ever before. The door finally burst open. Two men fell into the room followed by a quick succession of women, their concern evident.

They all halted as they saw the
wendigo
and it turned and grinned at them before heading toward the smashed window.

“Mine,” it rasped as he held the woman tight. “Mine.”

Chapter Eighteen

“Great! A fucking
wendigo
.” Tithe repressed the urge to sigh dramatically and roll his eyes. The last few months had been more trouble than he’d seen in a while. A massacre, attempted reincarnation, a leader who turned out to be the enemy. He’d had enough. Now an evil creature of myth and legend roamed the countryside slaughtering indiscriminately.

“I saw it with my own eyes,” Silvan said defensively.

“I believe you my friend.” Tithe walked past and clasped Silvan on the shoulder. “It certainly has been a while though.”

Tithe gave Silvan’s shoulder a quick squeeze and headed to the liquor cabinet. He scanned the glass cupboard, reached for the strongest drink he had and poured himself a glass. He drained it quickly before pouring another. Not that it made much of a difference, he could hardly get drunk from it, but the burn was marginally comforting.

He proffered both Silvan and Rin a glass, knowing full well neither man would accept it. Silvan shook his head and took a seat, the soft leather softly creaking beneath him. Rin continued to stand, stiff and formal, uncomfortable about being in his boss’s home. It was obviously a breach of protocol.

It was the first time he’d been home from the Hall in weeks and he had little inclination to return back to work just yet. So when Silvan had returned on the first flight back to Whitehorse, Tithe summoned both Silvan and Rin here.

The white and cream colored décor appeared cold and aloof. All the essentials were here, but nothing personal adorned the rooms. His house was immaculately clean, almost clinical. Even in the privacy of his own home, Tithe gave nothing of himself away.

Except in his privately secured rooms. That section of the house was closed off to every living soul. And some of the dead ones. It was there, and only there, he was truly able to be himself. To finally relax and take stock. And sometimes to remember.

Tithe turned and placed the bottle back into the cabinet. He saw Rin in the glass door’s reflection. The man didn’t move a muscle but Tithe felt his agitation. He could always read his men well.

“What do you suggest we do about the beast?” Rin clipped out.

Grinning, Tithe turned toward him.

“We kill it.”

“I surmised as much,” Rin replied, sarcasm dripping from his every word. “But how do you kill a
wendigo
?”

“Very difficult. They’re bastard things.” It was Silvan who answered.

“I assume you are able to kill it?” Rin asked.

“You can kill anything if you know how,” Tithe said. He walked in front of the mahogany bar that ran half the length of the room and leaned his lower back against it. He crossed his legs at the ankle, his arms against his broad muscular chest. “I know we’ve come up against some things that seem damn near indestructible. But we always managed to eradicate them in the end.” He cocked his head. “Mostly.”

“This one’s big, strong and ultra-violent.” Silvan sat forward and stared at Tithe, sadness and anger shining in his blue eyes. “It has a huge blood lust, one I haven’t seen in many years.” He paused and swallowed roughly. “It slaughtered an entire family in the snow. Hardly anything left of them. Man, woman or child.”

Tithes stomach tightened as he continued to look at Silvan. The man’s words conjured up memories that flashed through his mind. Scenes of death, blood and ice. Visions of Silvan on his knees, screaming at his family’s slaughtered remains. Blood coating his hands as he tried to save his child, as he attempted to put the pieces of his wife back together.

Silvan finally looked away and Tithe felt sickness rise within him, it mingled with guilt and gripped him. He knew Silvan hated the cold and ice for a reason, he shouldn’t have sent him on this mission. But he believed it was a straightforward routine job.

Check if the human deaths were attributed to the shifter bear, and if so take care of the situation. He never imagined it would turn into this. He’d never deliberately reopen festering wounds that should lie forever dormant.

“Apologies, Silvan,” was all he could grind out.

Silvan glanced at him a moment, his blue eyes vacant, even of pain. A muscle worked at his jaw. After a second, he nodded and the knot in Tithe’s chest loosened a fraction. The blood he saw in his visions was on Tithe’s hands and the immense guilt it burdened him with was more than justified.

Rin glanced from Tithe to Silvan, obviously understanding something went on between the two men, but unsure what to make of it.

Tithe cleared his throat and addressed Rin.

“
Wendigo
’s are notoriously difficult to kill, especially since very few remember the old legends and tales about them.”

“Do the legends tell how to kill it?” Rin inquired.

“Yes, they do. Luckily for us, an elder of the Algonquin tribe imparted the knowledge to me a very long time ago.” Tithe unlocked his arms and stepped forward, away from the bar. He stopped a few paces away from where Silvan sat in the armchair, his arms folded defensively, his face tense and hard.

“I will not order you to come with me to dispose of the
wendigo
,” Tithe said, choosing his words carefully. “I ask you as a friend and a brother, a request I know I have no right in asking.”
  

Silvan glared at him and Tithe knew the pain of his friendship and honor conflicting with his duty. But if the creature was as strong as was suggested, then he needed someone he trusted at his back.

The seconds stretched and Silvan continued to glower and Tithe stared back, both men unwilling to look away. Finally, Silvan nodded a quick jerk of his head.

Tithe inwardly sighed in relief. He turned on his heal to face the other venator.

“Rin, I need you to protect my city in my absence. I trust no other to the task.”

“Yes,” Rin curtly replied.

“My thanks,” Tithe said, inclining his head. “Return to the Hall, I left you instructions on my desk.”

Rin cocked an eyebrow. “You were very certain I would say yes.”

“Yes, I was,” Tithe said.

“In that case, I will take my leave,” Rin said, nodding toward Tithe. “Silvan,” he said in goodbye, turning toward the man. “Best fortunes on your mission,” he said to both.

Rin turned and walked across the room.

“Rin,” Tithe called as the man reached the doorway. Rin stopped and turned toward him. “Watch for Avery. She flies closer to you every day. I see her circling.”

Rin’s hand went to his sword strapped to his side. Anger blazed in the man’s face and Tithe could feel it permeating from him.

“I watch for her,” Rin spat out. “She is my responsibility.”

“It was her brother who turned her, not you.”

Rin’s face reddened as the knuckles grew whiter as he gripped the hilt of his sword. He held Tithes gaze for a moment and Tithe knew he wanted to strike out against him. Not that he could blame him, some pain was too great to hold in and only action could abate it.

After a moment, he looked down at his hand gripping his sword and some of the bitterness seeped from him. Only his eyes belied his anguish.

“I only remind you to appease your guilt and sorrow,” Tithe said softly.

“There are some instances which require a man to carry guilt.” Rin turned on his heal and walked out the door.

That was a premise Tithe could understand only too well. He carried guilt for many atrocities he’d both committed and contributed to, whether willingly or not. They all had burdens to carry. Every single man under his control had a past, usually of tragedy and pain. Some of it he had a hand in. But Tithe had been making amends for centuries, making sure those men now had at least some semblance of a life.

Perhaps even contentment, something he feared he would never find for himself. Too much hid in his past, too many demons, both literally and figuratively. Too many mistakes that he was paying penance for.

And one of those was still sitting in his arm chair. The haunted look in Silvan’s usually cheerful eyes reminded him of the pain he’d inflicted. Tithe felt the sickness rise in him again, just as it did every time he began to feel the full extent of the guilt and anguish of his past mistakes.

Tithe gritted his teeth till his jaw ached, trying to rein in his wayward emotions. Slowly he approached Silvan.

“I am truly sorry you had to relieve those memories, Silvan.”

The man looked up, baulked slightly, then stood with slow deliberate moves.

“I can see you are sincere. Your eyes are glowing green again,” Silvan said with a mix of sadness and amusement.

Tithe blinked, felt the burning in his eyes and pushed his emotions into the background where they belonged.

“If only the others knew you glowed when your emotions get out of control,” Silvan said, standing in front of him, watching him curiously.

“A few do know.”

“And it’s a good thing it’s only a few too. You already freak out most people, you’d terrify them if they knew the truth of you.” Silvan sobered. “I know why your feelings are scattered. I told you before my friend, and I will tell you once again. What happened to my family was no doing of yours. You have no fault in it.”

Tithe nodded his gratitude, but couldn’t bring Silvan’s words to heart. He held fault. But there was little he could do about it now. Tithe swallowed the lump in his throat and called on his considerable willpower. He reined in his emotions.

“Come,” Tithe said, “We have a beast to slaughter.”

Chapter Nineteen

Light filtered in, creating slivers of brightness in the darkness. Lea shivered uncontrollably, and sniffled, trying to take long calming breaths. She gagged at the putrid stench that lay thick in the dark lair.

She regained consciousness here, in the blackness, after the creature had taken her from her room. She had screamed and fought its hold with everything she had in her, but to no avail. It had looked at her, head cocked in mild interest as it gripped her in its claws. The greed and lust had come to its dirty yellow glowing eyes and it guffawed, its thick oozing spittle dripping on her face. In abject horror, it was the last thing she remembered.

Until fear had woken her in the dark. She caught the line of the light and frantically searched around her. Dirty ice and snow ere compacted loosely together for walls, the floor grimy ice and splattered with something thick and congealed.

Movement at the front of the cave concealed the remaining light. Lea gasped, her hand shooting up to cover her mouth to stop from calling out. She panted through her nose, trying to force oxygen into her body, and attempting not to retch at the foul air as her stomach twisted in fear and revulsion.

The animal at the front of the lair growled softly, almost a laugh and Lea nearly lost all reason. Was this the creature Dane spoke of? Terror threatened at the edges of her mind and Lea wanted the blackness of her subconscious to take over. She just couldn’t handle this fear.

Another movement from the creature bought another flash of daylight through the cave. The light highlighted a mutilated mound of flesh and clothes next to her. Surprised, her heart went into overdrive, threatening to explode.

She quickly scurried away, until she was against the wall, tucking her feet up under her. The monster moved again, as if it was pacing or swaying. Light glinted off something metal beside the horrifying mass. Realizing what it was, Lea quickly grabbed the little hand shovel and clutched it to her body, hiding it just in case the creature saw.

Lea grimaced as she was plunged back into the dark. She sent up a silent prayer for whatever man or woman that sodden mutilated mess had been and a quick thanks for the shovel. Snow and ice would be hard to dig through, but she wouldn’t sit here and wait for that abomination to decide her fate.