The Bite of Winter (International Monster Slayers Book 2)

by Bethany Helwig

  We merge onto the interstate and start the long drive up to Duluth. Despite my brother’s advice, I continue to mull over what Dasc said and it makes me angry.

  “Hey, frowny face,” Hawk says. “Who would win in a fight? Ryūjin or Draco?”

  The random question catches me off guard and I laugh. Ryūjin is one of the six majestics that hails from Japan, otherwise known as the Ocean King. Of course Hawk would think to pit the Ocean King against Draco, Europe’s Firestorm. “What? What kind of question is that?”

  “An honest one.”

  “Well, it’s a dumb question. Both Ryūjin and Draco are majestic class. Their powers are practically equal.”

  He throws his hands up. “What?! You’re crazy. Ryūjin’s got crazy awesome water powers. He makes freakin’ typhoons for crying out loud.”

  “Yeah, and Draco makes firestorms.”

  “Ryūjin would quench them,” Hawk argues.

  “Not if Draco evaporated the water with the heat of his fires first.”

  “No way. Ryūjin has the entire ocean at his command. A little fire can’t stop all that water.”

  “Ryūjin doesn’t control the entire ocean at once.”

  He presses a finger to my lips and shushes me. “Don’t say such horrible things.” I shove his hand away but he keeps talking. “Say he gets past Draco’s fire.”

  “There are still dragon’s barriers to contend with.”

  “Well, they both have those. And Ryūjin’s are way cooler.”

  We argue back and forth for most of the ride. Neither of us really wins. We end up laughing too much to form any coherent arguments after a while. It isn’t until I pull up in front of the Duluth Field Office that I realize I haven’t spared a thought for Dasc in the last forty-five minutes. Before we get out, I grab Hawk’s arm.

  “Hey. Thanks,” I say.

  He scrunches up his face into a ridiculous cross-eyed smile. “That’s what twinsies are for!”

  We’re both laughing again as we hop out and I rap my knuckles on the metal door of the Duluth Field Office. After a short wait, I hear a series of locks click and the door swings open with Charlie framed in the doorway. He’s looking very posh again in a black overcoat with the collar turned up, leather gloves, and a gray scarf. Seriously, can’t he have a bad hair day or something? I resist glancing down at my military green parka I got from a local thrift store.

  “Come in before someone sees you,” Charlie says briskly.

  I roll my eyes and slip inside, Hawk on my heels. Charlie closes the door and the instant he turns around Hawk thrusts out his hand.

  “Junior Agent Hawk Mason. You’re Junior Agent Jaeger, I take it? It’s a pleasure.”

  Charlie’s eyes bounce to me for a second before settling on my brother. He gives Hawk’s hand one firm shake and lets go with an expression that makes it clear he’s suspicious of Hawk’s friendly, easy going introduction after having met me. Honestly, a part of me is wishing Hawk would be more abrasive.

  “Where’s Agent Barnes?” Charlie asks.

  “He stayed back to man our field office,” Hawk replies, “but I think Phoenix and I will be suitable backup. How about we move things along and find that selkie? She’s already been missing for too long. You found some witnesses, you mentioned?”

  Charlie nods, clearly impressed with Hawk’s professionalism. Personally, I think my brother’s hamming it up pretty good. He’s never this professional. Charlie waves us down the flight of steps to stand at the computers in the middle of their command center. Loud voices echo from somewhere deeper inside and they don’t sound too friendly.

  “Don’t mind that,” Charlie says and waves a hand before opening up a video on his computer monitor. “Nessa’s just ticked Melody is keeping her on the sidelines and stopping her from stomping all over our jurisdiction. Here we go.”

  He opens a clip of surveillance video situated up high and looking down on what I recognize as the interstate. It’s paused on a night shot with the cars illuminated by streetlights set at regular intervals along the road. Charlie circles one car in particular with his pointer finger.

  “The couple I spoke to said they saw a woman matching Gillian’s description being carried between a guy in a hoodie and a girl with a pink scarf past the Chocolate Factory,” he says. “They noticed because Gillian appeared unconscious. When they asked if she needed help, her two friends said she was blackout drunk. They got into this car, an older model dark blue Mustang. I managed to spot it while combing through local traffic feeds.”

  I swallow past the lump in my throat. “So we’re dealing with at least two people now, not just our mystery man. Where’d they go?”

  Charlie opens up another window on the computer displaying an aerial view of a huge clump of warehouses packed together in a shipping yard along the harbor’s edge. Railroad tracks lead right into the mass of buildings, cutting between mounds of minerals covered with tarps for the winter, stacks of crates, and heavy-duty loading equipment. It’s a maze and there are a lot of places to hide or hold someone. I get why they want more people to help.

  “Melody and I scoured the area and managed to find the vehicle abandoned in the parking lot here.” He points to a small lot west of the shipping yard. “It’s very possible that Gillian is in one of these warehouses but there’s a lot of ground to cover. Nessa wants to barge in with her selkie friends but we can’t risk sending a bunch of untrained people in there. One of their own is missing. I don’t doubt for a second that one of them might do something stupid or get themselves hurt.”

  Charlie pulls back the edge of his sleeve to glance at a shiny wristwatch. “We’ve already wasted enough time as it is. Now, we know there are two suspects but there could be more.”

  “Especially if they’re vampires,” I interject. “They form gangs to fight for territory.”

  He gives me a flat stare. “Yeah. I know that. If these even are vampires.”

  “There’s a strong possibility.”

  He ignores my comment and says, “I assume you’re both armed?”

  “We’re covered,” I say and fight the urge to roll my eyes. I’ve already got a machete strapped inside the lining of my jacket, a bio-mech gun in my front pocket, and my mother’s gun in its hidden holster at the small of my back as always. Hawk’s weapons are waiting for him in the SUV.

  “Then we need to get moving. Like you said, she’s been missing too long. I’ll meet you outside. I need to chat with Melody for a second.”

  He spins away with a flourish—at least it looks like it with his overcoat swishing out around him—and he walks down the hallway out of sight. Hawk lets out a low whistle and we walk outside together. I lean against the side of the SUV as Hawk pops the hatch and pulls out a side panel to reveal a hidden stash of weapons. After a quick look around to make sure no one is nearby, he starts pulling out items and tucking them into his jacket and pockets.

  “Well, aren’t you sharp tonight,” I comment offhand. “I thought for sure you’d start off with a bad pun or joke about centaurs to get the ball rolling with Charlie.”

  “I’m being sneaky,” he says, carefully stashing a long dagger into the lining of his parka. “I’m luring him into a false sense of security with politeness and professionalism, then BAM—I’ll hit him with an obscure amount of craziness he’ll never see coming.”

  I throw my head back and laugh. “You’re an evil genius.”

  “Mind you, a selkie is missing and a couple of freaks are on the loose. We gotta be actual adults at some point in our lives, right?”

  “Well said.”

  Moments later the garage door of the field office opens and Charlie pulls out in an SUV identical to ours. Hawk steals shotgun and I hop into the second row. We wait for a moment before Melody stalks out of the building and comes to join us. Her blonde curls are in a bit of disarray and her cheeks are flushed. She takes the seat next to me and heaves a sigh.

  “Trouble in paradise?” Charlie quips as he shi
fts the SUV into gear and we roll away from the field office.

  “Nessa’s promised to sit back for the time being,” Melody says and tugs on a pair of black leather gloves. “How long she’ll keep that promise is another problem entirely.” Her gaze passes over me and she gives me a warm smile despite everything that’s going on. It seems like a part of her personality is to make sure everyone around her feels comfortable.

  We fall silent as Charlie takes us through the warehouse district and past grain elevators, driving in the direction of the shipping yard. The reality of where we’re headed hits me. Someone’s missing and we’re going to find them either alive or . . . I swallow as I suddenly envision Jefferson’s daughter out in the world in some forsaken place. There’s a horrible pit in my stomach. Is this what Jefferson feels like all the time? Is this the burden he carries with him everywhere?

  “How old are you, Charlie?” Hawk asks, breaking the silence. “I’m just curious when you’ll be taking the trials to become a full-fledged agent.”

  “It’s Junior Agent Jaeger. And I’m twenty-one. I’ll be taking the trials this summer.”

  “Oh, you don’t say.” Hawk glances at me over his shoulder with a wink. “Sounds like we’ll be taking them together then.”

  Charlie shoots him a sharp look. “How old are you?”

  “Eighteen.”

  “And you’ll be taking the trials already?” Melody asks beside me, sounding impressed.

  “Oh, yeah. We got advanced after the whole Dasc fiasco.”

  “Huh.” Charlie doesn’t say anything else and I can’t make out his expression from my spot. For people that have been raised in the life, they’re usually eligible to take the agent trials when they turn twenty-one. The IMS needs agents badly and are willing to take whoever they can get even at a young age. I can’t tell if Hawk managed to impress Charlie or make him more irritated. Not that I care. If Charlie’s willing to judge me without even knowing me, then I don’t care what he thinks about me or my brother. If we have to work together, then we’ll do our jobs. Past that, whatever.

  We pull up alongside a fence topped with razor wire and park in the mostly abandoned lot. Across from us sits the blue Mustang. Before we exit the SUV, Melody passes around little headsets and has us link together on a single channel. After a quick comms check, Melody throws a medic bag over her shoulder, and we exit in unison to stalk across the icy lot towards the Mustang.

  “Mels,” Charlie says—it doesn’t get past me that he uses a nickname instead of her last name like he does for me and Hawk—and points to the Mustang’s windshield. “No frost.”

  “Someone’s used it since we spotted it,” Melody says and lays a gloved hand on the hood. “Not warm, though, so not terribly recent.”

  We pause as a group and look to the structures surrounding us. Past the razor wire fence is a steel-sided warehouse that rises up next to two slightly less intimidating warehouses with peeling brown paint. There are more warehouses, little shacks, a few commercial office buildings for utility companies, and empty parking lots. Past the first row of buildings are multiple sets of train tracks leading all the way to the harbor.

  Charlie reaches the gate in the fence first and jingles the lock sitting open that’s supposed to be holding a chain to keep the gate shut.

  “Well, someone’s definitely been here,” he says. “Lock’s open.”

  “Are we sure there’s no one else using these warehouses at the moment?” Hawk asks and turns slowly on the spot, scanning the darkened windows up above.

  Charlie yanks on the gate and holds it open for us. “Shipping season’s on hiatus and won’t start back up until March. They keep the warehouses locked for the time being and the workers get a short break. At least for this place, anyway.”

  The sky’s gray and the light is fading fast, turning the warehouses towering above us into cold and daunting behemoths. The shipping yard is an eerie labyrinth as a bitter wind sighs through the spaces between the buildings and creaks some loose metal siding nearby. If I really strain my ears I can make out the sharp crack of ice out on the lake. It’s the perfect spot for a monster to camp out.

  “We’ll go in pairs,” Melody says quietly. “Phoenix, you’re with me. We’ll cover the buildings to the north. Charlie, go with Hawk and cover the south. Stay in touch and call out if you find anything.”

  Charlie looks none too happy with the group arrangements and I must say I’m nervous myself. I’d like to stick with Hawk if at all possible but Melody is already moving away to hunt for monsters. My brother gives me a quick nod to let me know he’s fine so I jog after my partner. As I move away I hear Hawk in my ear through my headset.

  “Lead the way,” he says to Charlie.

  Once I catch up to Melody, I slow my pace and in unison we click on our flashlights as we enter the first of the run-down brown warehouses. There’s a huge door with a loading dock for semi-trucks to pull up to but we take a normal door on the far right. Melody gives it a good tug but it’s locked. Instead of moving off to find a different entrance, she winks at me and pulls out a pair of lock picks. I hold my light on the knob for her, while keeping my eyes on the area behind us, and her expert fingers open the lock within a matter of seconds. As soon as the door swings open, we slip inside and shut the door behind us.

  The beams of our flashlights brush over open crates stacked on top of each other in leaning towers and a dusty floor that opens up into an enormous main room. The light we carry is swallowed up by the sheer vast emptiness of the place stuffed with darkness. Anything could be hiding in the shadows beyond the reach of our flashlights. My heart beats a little faster.

  Melody doesn’t say a word but gestures with two fingers to a steel door on our right. I nod and follow in her wake as she takes point. Once through the incredibly creaky door, we work our way through a number of dark offices filled with shipping manifests, sprawling maps of the Great Lakes stapled to the walls, silent computers, and paper-lined desks. Past the offices we come to more holding areas with more crates and stacks of who knows what under massive tarps. A fine layer of dust covers everything.

  “There’s a whole lot of dust here,” I whisper but my voice sounds incredibly loud after the lengthy silence. “Doesn’t look like anyone’s been here in forever.”

  “It’s ore dust,” Melody says quietly. “A lot of taconite and limestone gets shipped out of Duluth. The dust gets over everything.”

  “Oh.”

  “But you’re right. It doesn’t look like anyone’s been here recently.”

  We finally circle back to the front of the warehouse and exit the way we came.

  Melody presses a finger to her wireless headset. “Boys, you find anything?”

  “Nothing yet,” Charlie responds.

  “We just finished clearing our first building,” Hawk adds.

  “Same,” I say and watch as Melody tries the door at the next brown warehouse. When it swings open, she raises her eyebrows at me. “We just came across an unlocked door, though.”

  “Congratulations,” Charlie says in a monotone. “Would you like a treat?”

  “Charlie,” Melody says sharply and gives me an apologetic grimace. “Button it up. This might not mean anything so move on to the next building on your side and we’ll let you know if we find anything here.”

  “Roger that,” he says.

  My face burns and I want to throw some kind of snappy insult at him but I’ve got nothing. I’m too angry. Clenching my jaw, I storm into the warehouse and take point this time as we sweep through. Melody doesn’t say a word but a light touch on my arm lets me know I’m being too noisy. I heave a deep breath and force myself to slow and walk softly. This warehouse is identical to the last so it’s easier knowing where we’re going.

  As we clear through the first couple of offices, I can’t keep silent for long. I keep my flashlight up but wrap one hand around the microphone of my headset so the boys can’t hear me when I ask Melody, “Can I ask you a quest
ion?”

  She finishes peering through the small office and clamps a hand around her mic as well. “Sure.”

  “Why does Charlie hate me so much?” I ask. “I swear, I can’t for the life of me get on his good side.”

  “You mean, when you aren’t equally riling him up?”

  I fight the urge to roll my eyes. “He jabs, so I jab. But he won’t stop throwing punches.”

  Melody keeps walking and assumes point but continues to hold her microphone to keep our conservation private. “He’s got a sticky past when it comes to werewolves. The way you reacted when your mate Ashley was arrested—well, it triggered that smidge of hatred he always tries to keep buried.”

  So, he has been personally affected by werewolves as I suspected. “What do you mean ‘sticky past?’”

  “I’m sorry, but that’s his business.” She raises an eyebrow at me. “If you want to know the details, you’ll have to ask him.”

  Right. Like that’s going to happen.

  She releases her microphone and it’s clear she’s done answering my questions.

  We shift into a focused silence. This is what each of us has trained for—protecting legendary creatures and taking down monsters. I push aside hostile thoughts of Charlie and keep my eyes peeled for signs of passage through the warehouse.

  Melody checks in with the boys once more as we finish our sweep. This time I don’t speak lest I get snapped at again for something stupid. Both of our teams move on to the next area and as our shoes crunch in the snow along the way to a massive steel warehouse, I start to doubt if we’ll find anything. Maybe our hoodie-guy and scarf-girl ditched the car here and then went somewhere else. They could have easily changed vehicles. They could have killed Gillian and—no. I can’t entertain a thought like that. It’s our duty to keep looking. We can’t give up when there’s someone out there that needs our help. If only we could find—

  Melody tries the door at the next warehouse. It swings effortlessly open, and through the ore dust is a bare swath like something had been dragged along the floor. We both freeze and follow the path with our flashlights only. There’s actually a lot of dust that’s been disturbed. In sync, we step forward lightly and draw our bio-mech guns as our lights catch something on the floor not twenty feet in.