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Authors: RJ Blain

BOOK: Winter Wolf
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~Yes,~
a new voice, neither feminine or masculine, agreed. I recognized the presence as the moonstone’s, cold and unyielding.

“A street name, Jason. What street is the cafe on?”

Jason shuddered, his gaze still fixed on the floating moonstone. “East 7th.”

Amber made a pained noise and my temper flared. With it, the fire from the moonstone flashed and I could feel the stone drawing power out of me to fuel its magic. Jason surged to his feet, lunging at me with outstretched hands. Before I could react, blinding light flashed from the moonstone. My vision darkened as the stone stole more energy from me. Jason jerked and twitched, falling over the coffee table. He burned and the heat washed over me, sapping my strength. I slumped against the armchair and slid down to the floor, struggling to draw a breath.

I heard Jason cry out before everything went still and silent.

 

~~*~~

 

Someone shook me, holding onto my shoulders while my head rolled side to side. It hurt, but I couldn’t find the strength to stop them. Something important nagged at me, but I couldn’t remember exactly what.
Something
needed my attention; something urgent enough to make me panic as I struggled to make sense of what was going on around me.

I remembered Amber, Jason, and the moonstone’s rather dramatic display. I lurched upright, and my forehead collided with something hard.

Amber made a pained noise. My head throbbed in rhythm with my heart and I lifted my arm enough to wave an apology. I tried to say something, but all I managed was a groan.

“What happened?” she asked, sitting next to me. Our backs rested against the armchair. “And what happened to
him
? Why can’t I remember anything?”

I sucked in a breath and the memory of the moonstone stealing power from me returned. I clawed my way upright with the help of the chair, twisting around to stare at the coffee table and couch.

A fine white powder dusted everything. I swallowed several times. The moonstone had rolled under the coffee table, its colors dull. Staggering over to it, I knelt down to scoop it up. While faint, I felt its warmth.

~Gone,~
the book murmured to me. Its voice,
my
voice, sounded tired.
~Dust.~

I shuddered at the realization that I knelt in what had once been a
person.

A person I had murdered.

“Nicole?”

“He’s dead,” I whispered, starting to shake as the impact of what I had done sank in.

“Oh my god. What did you do? Or did I do it? Oh god, what happened, Nicole? Nicole? Where’s the body?” If Amber panicked, I feared I’d fall apart, so I quieted her with a wave of my hand, gesturing at the powder littering the couch, table, and floor.

Sickened, I whispered, “There’s not a whole lot of him left to clean up.”

“What did you
do
?” Amber gasped, grabbing my arm and jerking me back from the coffee table.

“He did something to you. I—he was coming at me. I didn’t do anything to him, I swear.”

“The trap. The moonstone reacted, didn’t it? I thought it was supposed to stun him, not…”

I shuddered. “Not cremate him?”

Amber sat me down, picked up the hotel’s phone, and made a call. She briskly grabbed a towel from the bathroom and rubbed it over the carpet, couch, and table. While her efforts got rid of most of the evidence, the few lasting smears reminded me that I had killed someone.

“Fire witches can do that when desperate,” Amber said, patting my shoulder.

Within ten minutes, there was a knock at the door. Amber let in three men wearing suits and judging from the slight bulge under their coats, they were carrying concealed guns. My hand slipped to my revolver and I slid it out of my thigh holster. I shoved the moonstone under me.

“What happened?” One of the men, middle-aged with a tired look in his eyes, circled my armchair to examine the coffee table and the couch. He spared a glance at me, took notice of my little revolver, and dipped his head in a cordial nod. Then he turned his attention fully on Amber. “Let me guess. You got cornered and lost control.”

Amber sat in silence, her lips parted slightly. I squirmed a bit and when I drew a deep, calming breath, I smelled cinnamon. I remembered what Amber had said about Fenerec being able to detect lies.

“There’s no helping it. It’s fortunate you managed to do so without setting off the fire alarms. No harm done,” the man declared. “Get this place cleaned up. You’re expected to report.”

If Amber reported, they’d catch her in her lies. “She doesn’t know what happened,” I said in a firm tone. “We… thought he might try something, so we set up some traps in the room. He set one off. It worked better than we anticipated. Neither one of us touched him.”

Every eye in the room focused on me, and I stared down at the floor. “I guess he thought she was the bigger risk, so he… did something to her. I don’t know what, but she fell over and wouldn’t wake up. I was supposed to be the bait so Amber could deal with him, but it didn’t work out that way.”

“We were informed Amber was playing bodyguard for a Normal,” the man conceded. Inquisitor, I guessed. “Takes guts to get involved with our business, miss. What did he do to her?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. After he knocked her out,  he went for me, and I guess that set off the trap. It…” I let my voice trail off and sniffled a little. “It did that to him.”

“I trust the traps are long gone now, Amber?”

She swallowed. “I’m not sure. The main one has been, but…”

“Think you can repeat that trick?” the Inquisitor asked.

“I didn’t think it would do
that
,” Amber whispered. “It was supposed to buy me enough time to deal with him, not kill him.”

“I’ll let Mr. O’Reilly know. Still, you’ll need to report in. Ladies, we’ll send someone up to finish the cleanup within the next few hours. Please call us if anything comes up. If anyone asks, I suggest you say you spilled something harmless—like powdered sugar.” With that, the three swept out of the suite, closing the door behind them.

“That’s it?” I asked, staring at the door in shock.

“Why did you do that?” Amber hissed at me. “I could have handled them.”

“One of them was a Fenerec.”

Her eyes widened. “I didn’t… how did you know?”

I tapped the tip of my nose. “I thought you could recognize them on sight.” When Amber didn’t reply, I frowned. “Anyway, ever since Scott’s death, my nose has been a little more sensitive than normal. One of them smelled like cinnamon.”

“Normally, I can. I’m more than a little worn out right now. As for the Fenerec, cinnamon?”

“Cinnamon. Fenerec smell like spice. Cinnamon and something else. I couldn’t tell which one of them was the werewolf, though. I was afraid he’d catch you if you lied.”

Amber sighed and she smiled at me. “You did well.”

“The sorcerer said his contact goes to a cafe on East 7th.” Getting to my feet, I checked the other spheres. Like the moonstone, they were dulled and inert. Neither one of them tried to speak to me as the moonstone had done. Shivering, I packed them away. “I need to go back to Los Angeles.”

Even if I went back home, how was I going to find the right cafe? For all I knew, there could be hundreds of them on 7th.

“We need to go back to Los Angeles,” Amber corrected.

“He said he had killed twenty women and was harvesting their life force for someone who could be found at a cafe on East 7th. It’s not just some random guy killing random women…” I frowned, trying to figure out how a sorcerer harvested life from someone—and what sort of magic could be fueled with such foul power.

“Well, he’s not going to be making that meeting now. Leave it be, Nicole. We can’t chase after the buyer. I’ll text the information to my boss. We have more important things to worry about, like the plague. If whoever-he-is hires another sorcerer, the Inquisition will find him. They haven’t found a cure for the plague yet. And frankly, I think you’re our best and only hope to do it. It’s not easy walking away, but we don’t have a choice. We… were very lucky they didn’t force us to answer a lot more questions. Let’s get away while we can.”

Why
had
the Inquisitors left, satisfied with my response? It didn’t make sense to me; someone was dead, turned to ash, and they accepted the feeble excuse of a trap for his murder?

I deserved far worse than a few questions for taking someone’s life.

~He would have killed you and Amber,~
the book whispered.

I wanted to tell it to shut up, but I remained silent.

~You did well. Perhaps… you might ask the moonstone about the plague. It’s a stone of healing, after all. And it’s very, very old. And you might ask your witch for help. She sees things in a different way.~

I blinked, reaching down to retrieve the gemstone sphere. “Amber, I have a question.”

“What?”

“If I told you I could talk to inanimate objects, would you believe me?”

The witch laughed. “You demonstrated stones have souls of sorts, so why not? It’s a little unsettling, I’ll admit. But I would believe you.”

“You won’t think I’m crazy?”

“Nicole, you’re a wizard. Of course you’re crazy.”

I glared at Amber and she grinned back at me, unrepentant.

“Something told me the moonstone might know something about the plague, because it’s a healing stone, and it’s very old. But… it thinks I might want to ask you for your help. You, apparently, see things differently.” I watched Amber for her reaction.

With a thoughtful expression, Amber paced around the room. “Well, I am a fire witch. We see auras. Life has colors that… radiate from someone.”

“What do you mean?”

“How do you explain what the color blue looks like to someone who is blind?” Amber asked, shrugging helplessly. “I don’t know how to explain it. I just see things. How people are. How they could be. Mostly, though, I get a feel for the type of person they have been and are likely to be in the near future.”

“That’s rather vague.” I rubbed my temples, considering the moonstone and what good Amber’s vision could do to help with the plague. Without any other options, I held out the moonstone to her. “So, how
do
you describe the color blue to someone who is blind?”

With a faint smile, Amber took the moonstone from me, and as I had done so many times before, she rolled it between her hands. “I tell them it is the color of the cold.”

While the moonstone reflected the colors of the rainbow, its blue showed through more than any other hue. I watched the sphere as it rolled and decided Amber was right. “Cold, huh?”

“It’s the closest I’ve ever gotten to an answer. Fire witches are supposed to be lights in the dark, but we can’t help the blind.” She turned to face the window, lifting the moonstone so she could peer into its depths. “I don’t know what you think I’m supposed to see, Nicole. There’s something about it, but stones were never my strength. Until I met you, I never thought they could be anything more than pretty rocks.”

When she handed me the moonstone back, I felt something from it, and it took me a moment to recognize the emotion as regret. “Nothing at all?”

“It feels strange. Not bad, but different. I’ve never seen anything like it before.”

I cupped the sphere in my hands and its warmth seeped into me. “I just wish I knew what to do, Amber.”

“Don’t we all. We’ll figure something out, one way or another. I do know one thing, though. If we’re going to hunt for a cure to the plague, we need someone to experiment on and that means returning to Los Angeles. We can’t do anything else here. Let’s pack up and hit the road.”

I set the moonstone on the coffee table, and without a word, headed to the bedroom to get changed.

Chapter Nineteen

 

 

While Richard had taken my original notes about the plague with him, the Fenerec Alpha had left behind a slim folder containing photocopies. I shoved it and a notepad into my messenger bag, along with the book, the
debens,
and my gemstones. I packed my silver mirror in my suitcase.

Hopefully by the time we made it back to Los Angeles, I’d have a plan—one better than running around the city hunting for a sick Fenerec to experiment on. While Alex was the perfect candidate, neither one of us wanted to face his brother if anything went wrong. Amber waited by the door, tapping her foot as I double checked my things.

“Have your California permit?” she asked as I shrugged on my shoulder holster.

“Arizona’s and California’s are in my wallet.”

She nodded in approval. “Can we go then?”

“I guess we don’t need to check out, do we?” After checking the room for the third time to make certain I left nothing behind, I dragged my luggage to the door.

“Not our room, not our problem. Ready? Oh, Richard texted me that your two dogs will be with your agent this evening. We can pick them up tomorrow.”

I nodded and tried to imagine the two dogs fitting in Amber’s sports car. I followed the witch down to the parking garage. There wasn’t much of a trunk, so my luggage and messenger bag were stowed on the backseat for the trip. She kept the top of the convertible closed, giving me a chance to sort through the file Richard had left behind.

No matter how many times I flipped through the pages, I didn’t find anything new or some spark of inspiration to help me figure out how to cure the plague.

“Where are we going to find a volunteer to experiment on?” I asked, pulling out my notepad and pen. Without anything to write, I ended up chewing on the cap while waiting for Amber to reply.

She took her time, driving to the outskirts of Las Vegas before glancing at me. “The volunteer won’t know you’re experimenting on him or her. Fenerec do not take kindly to that sort of thing. I have a few ideas, though.”

“That’s entirely unhelpful, Amber.”

“It is what it is. You can’t let anyone else know what you are. Richard and Alex are safe enough, but others? They’ll turn you into the Inquisition to garner good favor. The Los Angeles pack is beholden to the Inquisition. That makes you a top rated enemy. They can’t know. You’ll hide behind me while I do witchy things.”

“Witchy things,” I echoed weakly.

“Yes. An Inquisitor doing witchy things to help the Fenerec survive is permissible. Many of them know me, too. They won’t have any reason to question
you
, who is with
me.

“I knew this wasn’t going to be easy, but you are making this even more difficult than it needs to be,” I muttered. “I try to avoid using any magic where someone
might
notice. Are you sure you’ll be able to hide what I’m doing?”

“Well, do you know of a Fenerec who would cooperate without spilling your secrets?”

“I wish we could ask Alex,” I grumbled, chomping on the pen cap in frustration.

Amber snorted. “Richard would kill us if our experimentations killed his brother.”

The truth hurt, but I said it anyway, “He’s already dying.”

“I know,” the witch whispered, “but that doesn’t mean Richard will allow us to experiment on him in the slim chance we can learn something.”

“So how do we find a volunteer?”

“We could ask one of the young Fenerec. They’re at most risk and have everything to lose
and
gain by helping me search for a cure. They know they’re dying. Those three cubs proved it. They all underwent the ritual on the same night.” Amber drew a long breath and sighed. “They were really good friends.”

“There were four boys in the photo of them. Who was the fourth?” I asked.

Amber shook her head and didn’t speak for a long time. When she did, her voice trembled. “Our volunteer. Six months after they became Fenerec, Aiden was brought into the pack. He was on my watch list, although a lower priority than the other three. He’s not a bad kid. He’s about as submissive as Fenerec get. I’m worried about him.”

“You know him, don’t you?”

“I do.”

When she didn’t elaborate, I kept my mouth shut and stared out of the window at the desert. Even with a volunteer, what could I do to stop the disease killing the Fenerec? My science knowledge began and ended with high school biology and tinkering with cells underneath a microscope. I had skipped chemistry in favor of environmental sciences. My wizardry wasn’t much better; the book knew everything, and I did what it suggested more often than not.

While I managed to survive, I wasn’t
skilled.
Not in the way I needed to be in order to save an entire species from extinction. I felt helpless not knowing what to do or how to go about doing it. My goal was obvious, but I was blind in terms on how to get there.

Time wasn’t on my side. It wasn’t on Richard’s or Alex’s side either, and it wasn’t on my family’s side. But time wasn’t variable, and for all I was a wizard, it was an absolute I could not change. The taboo of experiencing the past was as close as I could ever get to changing the future.

I considered my father’s thoughts regarding the Winter Wolf. I suspected the Winter Wolf’s miraculous cure had happened far before my time—long before modern medicine and science.

That left magic. But how had he done it? Why?

Maybe we weren’t very different. Desperation could make people find their boundaries or surpass them. Before I had learned my family was dying from the plague, I never would have ventured into a nest of Inquisitors. I never would have partnered up with Amber.

I never would have called my father, either.

Without knowing anything concrete about the Winter Wolf, I couldn’t scry into the past and learn how he had done it. Calling my father again wouldn’t do me any good; if he had known anything, he would’ve told me—at least, I thought he would. Too much relied on his knowledge for him to withhold information.

“You’re going to hurt yourself if you keep thinking that hard,” Amber said, her tone amused.

I glared at the witch. “I was trying to figure out what drove the Winter Wolf into finding a cure for the Ferenec. Was he a Fenerec trying to save himself? A True-born? Was he even a wolf at all?”

“Following in the footsteps of the past?”

“I guess. My father said it’s been done before, but how? I understand the why.”

“He probably was watching his friends, family, and pack die.”

“Just like us,” I said, unable to keep the bitterness out of my voice.

“Just like us.”

“That doesn’t help me at all,” I muttered. “If the Winter Wolf lived long before modern medicine, why hasn’t the Inquisition been able to use science to find a cure?”

Amber made a rude noise. “The Inquisition isn’t exactly crawling with doctors, Nicole. I don’t think they dare bring in the true experts. It’s too much of an exposure risk. The Inquisition doesn’t really make many allowances for medical facilities. Witches don’t get sick often, Fenerec rarely do—at least until now—and they’re too busy trying to kill rogues, not
save
them. The Inquisition is of no use. We’re on our own. And if we don’t play by their rules, we’re as dead as the Fenerec. Taking our volunteer is going to be risky enough without bringing a Normal on board.”

“Who said we needed to let him know why we’re asking questions?” I chuckled a little at the idea forming in my head. “We’re young. We could claim we’re considering being disease research doctors. So we ask what is involved, the type of things we need to learn, and prerequisites for that level of education. We then find out what we need to know. We could say we’re interested in African diseases in particular.”

Amber looked puzzled for a moment, glancing at me as she adjusted her rear view mirror. “You mean Ebola.”

“Exactly. Richard’s notes said the disease was very similar in styling to Ebola. If we can access information on
that
disease, we might find a cure for
ours.

“But there is no cure for Ebola.”

“There isn’t a vaccine either, though I’ve heard there are some in developmental stages.” I looked through the notes Richard had left for me. “If that’s so, maybe we can steal it for the Fenerec.”

“That’s insane. If anyone found out we stole it, we’d be screwed. By the Normals
and
by the Inquisition.”

I snorted. “Isn’t the first time I’ve stolen something.”

“Nicole!”

“What? You don’t think
debens
grow on
trees
, do you? I stole them from a museum. They had extra.”

“You stole them from a museum.”

I bit my lip so I wouldn’t grin. “There was a museum in D.C. that had a lovely exhibit of life in Ancient Egypt. They had spares.”

“You’re unbelievable.”

“What? I needed them! They were just showing them off under a display case with others just like them.” I giggled. “It was fun watching the security people try to figure out how the museum had been robbed. For some reason, their cameras didn’t see a thing.”

“I hope for the sake of the world that you decide against pursuing bank robbery as a viable career choice.”

Snorting from laughter, I settled into the leather seat, stretching out my legs as much as I could in the car. “I like earning what I make, thank you very much.”

Robbing banks hadn’t occurred to me, but Amber did have a point. With my powers, I doubted the electronics of a bank would pose a problem for me. The museum had been easy enough to rob. “And anyway, I left them a hundred thousand in cash for the
debens.

“You
what?

“I gave them money for the
debens
.”

“You’re unbelievable.”

“But Amber, you’ve said that already.” I slapped the folder against the dashboard. “Not that my ill-gotten gains are doing us any good right now. Unless I find someone related to the Winter Wolf, I can’t figure out how he did it. Blood works best.”

“How would you figure out how he did it?”

I shivered a little, fighting to ignore the memories of Scott’s death. “The past, Amber. I’d visit the past for a little while.”

“But you can’t
do
that, Nicole! It can’t be done. It’s impossible. No one…” Amber paled several shades. “It’s suicide.”

“It’s unpleasant.” I twisted around to glower at my bag in the back seat. The book kept quiet. “Why do you think it’s suicide?”

“It’s never been done!”

“I’m pretty sure being a wizard lets me break the rules. And anyway, I’ve already done it once, so it
can
be done. But I need blood. I don’t think I can manage it any other way. So it pretty much
is
impossible.” Tapping the folder against the dash a few more times, I stared out the window and tried to think of what I could do—what we could do—to save the Fenerec. “And if it meant a chance at saving them, I would do it if I could.”

“I didn’t have you pegged as the family type. No pictures in your apartment, nothing indicating that you even have a family.”

“Nicole Thomas doesn’t have a family,” I replied with a shrug. “Nicolina Desmond, however, does. And she won’t, unless we do something.”

“Desperate times call for desperate measures?”

“I might not get along with them, and they may not be a good family, but they’re mine. I’m not going to just let them die, not without trying to do something about it.”

Amber made a pleased sound. “I knew there was something I liked about you.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

She didn’t answer me.

 

~~*~~

 

 

Amber took me to her condo on the outskirts of Hollywood. I whistled at the marble floors and gold leafing of the lobby. “They must pay you really well.”

“Richard takes care of those who help him,” was all the witch said as she guided me to the elevators. It shouldn’t have surprised me, but it did. Just how wealthy were the Murphy brothers? I understood they had to be rich enough to afford a place like the Venetian, but how much were they paying Amber, giving her enough wealth to live in such a nice condominium complex? Instead of asking, I kept my mouth shut and followed quietly along.

Her condo wasn’t large, but comfortable. Reds, yellows, and oranges dominated her decor, from the couch to the rug spread out over the cherry floors. At her welcoming gesture, I flopped down on the couch and wiggled in its luxurious embrace. “I might have to steal your couch, Amber.”

“You may visit my couch, but you may not take it with you,” Amber said, grinning at me. “I lugged that thing through four different moves. I’m not giving it up!”

“So what’s our next move?” I asked, emptying my messenger bag out on the table.

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