Wolf Hunted

by Kris Austen Radcliffe

  I reached for her. I had to. She couldn’t hurt like this. Not my Ellie.

  She stepped into my embrace. She curled her arms around my waist. And the woman who lived her life behind a veil laid her head against my chest.

  She pressed against my front as if holding on for dear life.

  Nothing else mattered. Not our interloper. Not the coming blizzard. Not the elves or the damned town or Samhain or anything else. She touched me and the hurts of my life—all the pain and the conflict and the anger—it all vanished. It fell away, and I knew why I’d made the decades of effort necessary to leave it behind. I understood why I’d worked so hard to not be the monster my father built.

  “I miss you so much,” she said.

  She wasn’t a ghost, nor was she a phantom or a dream. Her heart beat against my chest. Her warmth touched my skin, and her breath my soul.

  And I’d found her… again. What was I forgetting? She missed me. She hugged me. We had a relationship. We did. The proof clung to me now. Ellie Jones was more than a woman who needed help. She was more than a friend.

  A tsunami-like need to protect burst upward from my gut and into my throat. It moved outward into my limbs and pulled Ellie even closer.

  “Chihiro said that I need to acclimate the enchantments to my presence. I have a list on my phone.” I’d get Ellie through the concealments—or I’d find a way in.

  She pulled back. “You talked to Chihiro?” A spark flickered across her face.

  She was surprised.

  “Yes,” I said. “She remembers you. I made a deal with two kitsune while in Las Vegas. They found her and added her number to my phone.” I pulled my phone out of my pocket.

  “You shouldn’t have made a deal with kitsune, Frank,” she said.

  I shrugged. “I ended up making a lot of deals in Las Vegas I probably shouldn’t have.” I held out my phone so she could see. “It was worth it.”

  Her finger floated over the screen for a split second, until she gently touched Chihiro’s phone number. “Is she okay?” Her lip quivered more now than it had before. “When my cottage moved, it hurt her.” She pulled back her hand. “It hurt me, too.”

  Her concealment moved her cottage? How was that possible? And when it moved, it harmed Chihiro, and it harmed Ellie.

  She touched my cheek. “My home doesn’t mean to hurt anyone. It gives plenty of warning before a move, so I can take precautions.” She touched my phone again. “Chihiro is stubborn.”

  For a split second, I was sure she thought the magicks that moved her cottage were about to reach out and do to me what they did to Chihiro.

  “She hasn’t said anything about injuries,” I said.

  Ellie sniffed and rubbed at her eyes. “I don’t have any way to call her,” Ellie whispered.

  “I’ll get you a phone.” I pointed at the parking lot. “We can go right now. I’ll put you on my plan.”

  A small, pinched grin moved across Ellie’s lips. She chuckled once, and shook her head.

  “We’ve done this before,” I said.

  Ellie gently touched my forearm. Her fingers, separated from my skin by the fabric of my dress shirt, moved downward toward my wrist.

  She was an inch from taking my hand. Inches from accepting what I offered. An inch from returning to my embrace and admitting she didn’t have to face her enchantments alone.

  I was caught in that inch. Me, the “giant” of Alfheim, was trapped in that miniscule space between her walking away and me giving her all I had.

  I needed her to let me help. I needed to show her win after win, even if they were small and incremental. I needed her to acknowledge that tiny little space, to roll up her sleeves, and get to work building it out with me.

  Her concealments might make my mind forget, but right now, with her almost taking my hand, I was pretty sure they couldn’t stop my body’s memory. Every individual cobbled-together piece of me knew the truth of my emotions.

  Her fingers stopped at the cuff of my dress shirt. “I lost the last phone you gave me when we were dealing with the vampires.”

  What was I forgetting? Was her reluctance to take my hand because of something that happened with vampires? Was it something I did?

  She chuckled. “Do you still have my bike?” She lifted her hand off my arm. Just like that, she broke the connection. She severed our tether and now I drowned in the bottom of the deep, small space between us.

  “Ellie.” I reached for her again.

  She clasped my hands, but did not return to my arms. She clasped them to hold the space between us. “My green bike.”

  Please don’t hold me away, I thought. I almost spoke those five words. I probably should have. But frightening her would have slashed much deeper than her requesting space.

  “The bike I found,” I said. “It’s yours? It’s in my garage. I haven’t had time to fix it.” I didn’t know why I wanted to fix it, either. Now I did.

  “I need some way to get around.”

  “I’ll get your bike fixed,” I said. “It’s going to snow soon.” I pointed at the sky. “A bike won’t do. You’ll need a vehicle.”

  She looked away and didn’t answer.

  “Ellie,” I said. “I’ll get you whatever you need. I’ll buy a car and leave the keys for you. All you have to do is ask.”

  She frowned and the space between us grew wider. She stepped back, and that space became a gulf.

  So I changed the subject. “The wolves say we have a blizzard coming in on the evening of Samhain,” I said, hoping to pull her attention back to building our space instead of allowing it to crush us.

  “That’s terrible timing,” she said.

  “It is.” I’d distracted her from leaving. “Especially since we have an interloper. The wolves sensed some sort of dark magic at the park today when the guy showed up the first time.” I pointed back at the walk. “The elves didn’t sense anything, but I saw a shadow.”

  She spun around and pointed at the small fence separating the walk from the brambles. She squeezed my fingers. “When your brother kidnapped you, we used my ability to hide from other magicals to save Benta.”

  Her hand twitched. She let go and looked away again.

  Benta had stayed the night after we returned from Vampland.

  My stomach soured. And once again I realized that even if my mind forgot, my body did not.

  I’d unintentionally hurt Ellie by allowing Benta to stay.

  “I’m sorry.” I reached for her again. “I didn’t know. It won’t happen again.”

  No surprise registered on her face, just resignation. “Frank…”

  I stepped to her and pulled her into my arms. I kissed her hair. Such intimacy was presumptuous, especially now, with a Benta-shaped wraith between us. But I wasn’t going to give up without a fight. “I promise.”

  She pulled away. “You said the same thing when you picked up my bike.” Her lip quivered again.

  I swiped open my notes. “I’ll write this down. All of it, Ellie. Even if I don’t consciously remember, part of me knows. I’ll follow Chihiro’s instructions. Your enchantments are going to see me as part of your world. I promise.” I just needed to be on the inside.

  That was the key. It had to be the key. I needed to get inside the enchantments. Chihiro had. She got in and the enchantments stopped messing with her memory.

  And Chihiro wasn’t the only one to get in.

  “You have my dog,” I said.

  She nodded. “I don’t bring him into town. I don’t want questions from mundanes who know he’s yours.”

  “He got inside the enchantments. He comes to visit me every couple of days, then he leaves again on his own. He remembers you, and he always returns.”

  Her brow knitted, and her mouth rounded. “I didn’t realize.”

  “I think the enchantments don’t want you to realize. Because once you realize, you can pick and choose who comes in, and not the magic.”

  Ellie straightened the backpack and
looked up at the sky. “What if figuring out how to circumvent the enchantments is what triggers the magic that moves my cottage? It caused Chihiro agony. What if it does the same thing to you?” She looked up at the sky. “I can’t do this, Frank. I can’t find a way to be with you and then have you ripped away from me.”

  “We don’t know if that will happen. Chihiro remembers you. We don’t—”

  “I’ll shatter.” She ran toward the parking lot.

  I’m big and I’m fast. I scooped her up before she got too far. I lifted her into the air and buried my face against her neck. “Let me try. Please, Ellie. Please,” I whispered.

  Ellie wailed but she held on.

  I’d fallen into this moment as if it was a magical pocket land. I had no past here, and only scant understanding of its rules. But I knew it would slam closed soon, and I’d lose her tears on my shoulder. I’d lose her arms around my chest and the feel of her hair against my neck.

  I was head over heels in love with a magical woman whom I could only touch when the magic ignored us both.

  “Frank!” someone called from the restaurant side of the trees. “Hey, Frank, you in there?”

  Ellie pushed on my shoulders. “Put me down.”

  “No.” I’d vowed long ago that I would never disrespect a woman’s wishes. But this was different. I would only comply with the side of her ambivalence I supported.

  “Frank…” Ellie cupped my cheeks, and she kissed me with more passion than I’d ever felt from another woman. She wrapped her arms around my head and she kissed me as if this was the last time we would ever see each other.

  I curled my fingers into her hair. “Please, Ellie,” I whispered.

  “Frank?” the voice called again.

  The defeat in Ellie’s sigh played across my lips and chin. Gently, she removed my hand from her hair, and just as gently, she kissed my fingers.

  I was about to lose her again. Again. “No, no, Ellie, please,” I whispered. “Don’t go.”

  She nodded toward the voice. “What’s the elf’s name?”

  “Lennart,” I said. “He’s a good guy. He’ll help.” He would. All the elves would. She just needed to let me figure out how to make it happen.

  She laid her forehead against my cheek. “He can’t.” Then she wiggled out of my embrace and ran down the path toward the parking lot.

  Lennart popped through the brush.

  I looked up at the elf who couldn’t see Ellie running away. I looked back as she vanished around the corner.

  I wanted to yell out her name. I wanted to follow.

  But Lennart put his hand on my shoulder. “Come on. Your satchel’s ready,” he said.

  Ellie’s concealments screamed like a gang of terrified meerkats at the elf standing next to me. They screamed and they threw up their barriers.

  And once again, the most important person in my life slipped away.

  Chapter 6

  Ellie disappeared into the thick trees beyond the church with her hands buried in her hoodie’s pocket and my backpack on her back. Gone, like a ghost. She vanished as if her enchantments refused to allow me to see her anymore.

  My fist balled. My arm rose. The muscles of my back and arm tightened to throw every joule of my energy into a carved saint whose only mistake was to scowl down at the mundanes below.

  “Hey!” Lennart caught my wrist. He’d come through the brush and onto the path around the church with hardly a sound. “No punching churches.”

  He was larger than most of the other elves, with wider-than-average shoulders and a more prominent upper body than either Arne or Magnus. Lennart was overall thinner than the bear-like Bjorn, though, and looked like a rock star.

  He was also one of the few elves strong enough to give me pause.

  “Let go,” I said.

  Lennart let go of my wrist. He stepped back, but held his arm ready in case he needed to catch another swing. “I saw your truck.” He pointed at the lot. “Are you okay?” He pointed at the spot on the church wall I was about to punch.

  I wanted to tell him that Ellie ran away. I wanted him to whip up one of his stormy spells and send forth his thunder to find her enchantments. But no words left my mouth.

  The confused look all the elves got when their questions got too close to Ellie manifested. He rubbed at the hat over his ears.

  Lennart didn’t glamour his extra-thick sideburns, nor did he hide the lines of his elven tattoos much, and they shimmered in the late afternoon sun. Like Bjorn, Lennart leaned toward metal, and seldom wore anything other than black. Even the hunting leathers he wore while running with the wolves were solid black with only a few silver studs.

  Today he wore a black t-shirt, black jeans, forearm-covering black leather bracers, and a white knit cap. Under the hat, his ears were as unglamoured as his sideburns and made owl-like points that framed the big gold and maroon University of Minnesota Duluth bulldog right in the middle of his forehead.

  Ellie, I thought. Where did she go? She’d run away. And…

  She’d kissed me. And now Lennart’s elf-ness interacted with her concealments and I didn’t know what do to.

  She’d kissed me.

  “You look like you saw a ghost,” Lennart said. He peered at the church behind us. “Not a literal ghost, I hope.”

  My girlfriend had just vanished again and he wanted to talk about ghosts? Once again, no words about enchantments, or Ellie, or ghosts left my throat.

  I swore under my breath and swiped open my phone.

  “Why don’t you come in.” Lennart pointed over his shoulder. “You can look at your messages while I get your satchel.”

  I’m not looking at messages, I thought. I tried to tap in notes about Ellie, but I couldn’t. No symbol on my phone looked like a symbol, even though they did. Nothing made sense, the way typing and reading and words make no sense in dreams.

  I swore again and tucked my phone into my pocket.

  “Fine,” I said. Hopefully I’d remember enough once I was out of Lennart’s orbit to add notes to my list. But…

  She needed a phone. Chihiro said to associate memories tangentially. “How many lines does your phone plan have?” I asked.

  Lennart shrugged. “Five, I think. Why?”

  How was I supposed to answer that question? My invisible girlfriend needs a means of communication? “Ghosts,” I said.

  The elf standing next to me swiveled his head as if looking for a literal phantom reason for my question. “So you’re adding a ghost to your plan?”

  I wasn’t the only person in Alfheim with a terrible poker face. Lennart looked as if he was about call Arne and ask his king to take me away. “Frank, you’re not making sense,” he said.

  “Sorry,” I answered. “My satchel’s ready?” I nodded toward Raven’s Gaze. Maybe I could distract him with an enchanted container for Rose’s notebook.

  The incredulous look didn’t fade. “Are you sure you’re all right?” He moved his hands through the space around my shoulders and chest as if checking for wounds in my personal magical space.

  “I’m fine, Lennart,” I said as I walked toward the restaurant.

  He clearly did not believe me. He walked at my side, but his magic danced between the two of us.

  I’d freaked out a friend because I literally could not tell him a truth I wanted to share. “I saw something over there.” I pointed over my shoulder at the church. “And I went to look.”

  He looked around again. “What did you see?”

  Bjorn would have walked away by now. Arne would have changed the subject. Dag would have ignored the entire situation. “A friend,” I said.

  Lennart blinked as if momentarily confused, and the closing off happened. “Marcus Aurelius?” he asked.

  But not a complete closing off. “What do you think happened to him?” I asked.

  Lennart thought for a second. His stormy magic reached upward as if asking the sky a question, then settled onto his being. He grinned and squeezed my should
er. “Your dog is fine.” He thought for a second. “He’s a special hound who will help us all one day.”

  This was the closest I’d gotten an elf to talking about Ellie. It wasn’t much, but it felt important.

  Lennart nodded knowingly, then leaned toward me. “Bjorn would be inconsolable if one of his cats ran away.”

  I had a sudden flash of the bear-like thunder elf Bjorn Thorsson filling the entire town with rolling waves of magic as he searched under every porch and in every bush for one of his fifteen-pound balls of fluff.

  If I could send out magic like that to overcome Ellie’s enchantments, I would.

  “Yeah,” I said.

  We stood together for a moment under the warm afternoon sun, two large men who weren’t always at their best among people but who fully understood the magic of an animal companion.

  Lennart smiled. “Come! I have someone you should meet.” He pulled me toward Raven’s Gaze.

  Now that the nights were getting colder, the staff of the restaurant had put away about half the normal outdoor seating, and only five tables framed the entrance. The loud kids from the parking lot had spread out around three, and were laughing and leaning against each other as they thumbed through screens on their phones.

  We moved toward the break between the buildings and the end-of-season vegetables in the huge gardens, toward the loft at the back of the brewery where Bjorn and Lennart lived.

  Lennart, still smiling, stopped under one of the big red oak trees in front of the brewery and pointed up at the branches. “Take a look.”

  Two ravens sat in the tree. They were bigger than most of the ravens that nested around the lakes, and seemed to be less annoyed by humans than most other corvids.

  The smaller of the two watched me from its sheltered spot inside the rustling, leathery, autumn leaves of the giant oak. It bopped a few times and trilled in my general direction.

  The larger one clucked as if reprimanding its partner for paying attention to a person.

  “Are you two Huginn and Muninn?” Perhaps Bjorn had brought them in for ambiance. Or perhaps they were scouts. When I was in Las Vegas, I had suggested to the World Raven that she should come by and check out the brewery.