He mumbles something but I can’t hear over the roar of the wind. Icy snowflakes stab at my face but the cold wraps around my cheek and neck, blissfully numbing the surface pain. Blinking against the blinding snow, I search for a sign of civilization or life but there’s nothing but pavement ten feet in front of me, the limit of my vision.
One step after another, I march out into the snow without a clue where I am, and no idea how to save myself, Charlie, or my brother.
Chapter 22
I almost cry with relief when I see a sign appear out of the whiteout that says UMD Parking. We’re somewhere on the college campus. I stomp through snowdrifts across the barren parking lot, wobbling as I’m buffeted by the wind. Every now and then I think I hear people calling but can never tell what direction it’s coming from. Instead I move until I hit the curb of the parking lot and follow along its edge until a building looms up out of the snow flurry in front of me.
“Look, Charlie,” I pant. “A doorway. And what’s behind door number one?” I put one foot in front of the other towards that beckoning door-double entry. “Let’s tell ‘em what they won. Why it’s a crabby old agent who loves venison and shouting at kids in the rain. Pixies, I seriously hope Jefferson is through here.”
I reach the door and find it locked. Why does everything have to be locked! Adjusting my balance with Charlie on my shoulders, I give the door a good kick and the lock and part of the frame breaks apart to let me in. Warmth hits me like a tidal wave and I pause to soak in its embrace. Well, we’re out of the storm but we need to get out of here. Hawk’s out there on his own. My overactive imagination starts to entertain all of the horrible possibilities that could happen to him. They could bleed him out like those two selkies we couldn’t save—
“Can’t think about that,” I scold myself. “Just keep moving, Phoenix.”
I glance up at the skylights overhead in the two-story entryway I’ve broken into. Nothing can be seen outside the windows, only white. There’s a scattering of comfy chairs for students to lounge in so I drip blood across the floor on my way to the closest one and carefully ease Charlie into it. His half-lidded eyes struggle to reach mine and he pools in that chair like there’s not a single ounce of energy left in him.
“Well, at least you’re still awake,” I say and survey the area around me. “There’s got to be a phone around here. Don’t move.”
I pull up the collar of my jacket and press it against the wound bleeding freely at my neck. Oh, pixies, that hurts. Grimacing as I keep pressure on it, I jog to what looks like a help desk. Maneuvering around the counter, I find a phone waiting on the desk. My movements are purposeful and direct as I dial Jefferson’s cell.
It rings. Then it rings some more. Come on, come on.
“Who is this?” he growls.
“Oh, thank my lucky stars,” I say in a relieved rush. “Jefferson, it’s me.”
“Phoenix!” Now it’s his turn for a big relieved sigh. “Where are you? We’ve been looking all over.”
“I’m not sure. I’m on the campus somewhere. There are skylights here, not sure if that helps. But, Jefferson, the vampires weren’t working alone. Two lamia nabbed Charlie, Hawk, and me. I managed to get away with Charlie but . . .” I work a muscle in my jaw, fighting back a sob of panic, and press the phone to my forehead before bringing it back to my ear. “They killed the selkies and took Hawk. He’s taking them to Scholar and Dasc on the promise they’d let me live.”
“You—what? How do you know about Scholar?”
“That’s not important. We have to go after them but Charlie’s in bad shape. Real bad shape.” I glance over my shoulder where Charlie’s slouched in that cushioned chair. “If he doesn’t get help soon, he’s not going to make it.”
Wind whistles through the connection. “You’ve got to give me more on where you are. Are there any signs around you that say what building it is? They’ve all got names.”
“I’ll check but it’s somewhere near the campus heating building or whatever. That’s where we were being held. Hold on.” I set the receiver on the desk and jog back to the double doors, gazing around for any kind of sign. I push outside, get slammed by the wind, and turn around to scan the outside of the building. There’s something on the right but it’s completely covered by snow. Using my sleeve, I brush it off to uncover the letters then rush to the phone inside. “Solon Campus Center.”
“We’re coming.”
“Call in a code black,” I say.
“We already did,” he says a little out of breath, presumably as he starts to run. “The closest team is three hours away and can’t get here much faster with this blizzard. Hang in there. We’ll find Hawk.”
I’m not sure if I believe him. “Yeah,” I say anyway as dread wraps around me. “Course we will.”
Then I hang up before he notices how very unsure I sound. Pixies, I can’t think like that. I can’t let this fear consume me. Hawk’s out there and I have to find him. One step at a time. I can do this.
I find a nearby bathroom and grab a fistful of wet paper towels. When I get back to the main room, Charlie looks like he’s napping.
“Hey, hey, hey!” I shout at him. “I told you I don’t want to have to slap you awake.” I give him a few soft pats on the side of his face and his eyelids flicker open again. “It’s a miracle you haven’t gone into shock already. But don’t worry. I kept a little of you close to my heart.”
I yank out the blood bag to show him and hope my teasing irritates him enough that it forces him to stay awake. I don’t have a lot of tactics but I can pull that one off easily. Using the paper towels, I clean the blood off my face and hands, not sure what’s mine and what’s vampire.
“I’m surprised you let those lamia get the jump on you,” I say and peel back the edge of his jacket to find a lamia bite on his neck too. At least it looks like his tailored peacoat acted as a bandage. He flinches when I dab at the blood on his neck and press the towels to his bleeding wound. He’s lost so much blood . . .
“With you so out of it you can’t respond with those witty comebacks of yours,” I say, hoping to prompt him to speak up and show a little more life. He’s scaring me. “Come on, tell me how insufferable I am.”
He works his lips but no sound comes out.
“I really wish I could hear a snappy retort from you right now,” I say more subdued. What’s taking Jefferson so long?
As if in response to my silent plea, footsteps echo down the hall and Jefferson rounds the corner on the other side of the lounge area. Melody and Nessa are hot on his heels. They fly through the lounge and then Jefferson has an arm around me and is asking where I’m injured. Melody has Charlie’s face in her hands and acts like a mother frantic over her son. I point out the bag of blood they need to give Charlie and Melody offers me a silent thank you. Nessa clenches her jaw and swings around a backpack she’s carrying to reveal it’s full of bandages, athletic tape, rubbing alcohol, water, and a machete.
While the selkie passes over gauze to Jefferson and Melody, she asks in a tight voice, “Any sign of Ailsa? Or Coira?”
“I’m so sorry,” I say hopelessly. “They didn’t make it. The lamia killed them both. They’re back at the building we were being held in.”
“And you just left them there?” Nessa hisses at me. “For the crows to feast off their bodies?”
“What was she supposed to do? Carry three people on her back?” Jefferson snaps. Bless him for sticking up for me. I have no idea how to even respond to Nessa’s anger. “We’ll go find them and bring them back. I know the general direction of the heating plant. Phoenix, stay with Agent Boyd.”
“What about Hawk?” I ask. “We have to go after him!”
“Then bring the SUV around so we can get Charlie out of here and to the Duluth Field Office,” he says sharply. He must deem me medically fit to be running off by myself again. I’ll admit, I do feel better having a bandage on my neck—both sides—now. “The faster we get moving, the soo
ner we can save your brother.” He tosses over the keys.
Melody gives me a once over. “Look at her. She shouldn’t be—”
“I’ll do it,” I say and start jogging the way they had come.
I weave through the hallways and stop at a map of the campus affixed to the wall to get my bearings. Once I know the location of the parking lot where we parked the SUV, I run down the dark hallways and pass a security guard that shouts at me to stop. My blood’s pumping and I wince against the strain in my neck and shoulders.
Too much time has passed. Would Hawk have actually gone where he said he would? Or would he go somewhere else as a diversion? How do we find him? The only plan I can form is to make for Scholar’s mansion first and make sure they haven’t stopped there. If they have, maybe we can head them off. Scholar’s got to be able to handle herself, even against a couple of lamia. They called her “the demon.” They must have for a reason.
The wind rocks me backwards when I exit out the other side of the building near the skywalks. I hold a hand up against the wind to shield my eyes and walk bent against the force billowing into me. Movement on my right catches my eye and I freeze. A flag ripples through the wind, having been ripped free from wherever it had been. I clutch a hand to my chest, willing my aching heart to stop pounding, and keep moving.
The SUV magically appears out of the whiteout but it’s completely covered. With a growl, I fumble with the keys and get the stupid thing open. A gust blows in a cloud of white so the seats are dusted when I climb in and grab the snowbrush out of the footwell behind the driver’s seat. It’ll take too long to clear it all, I realize, and do something stupid as I usually do. I shove against the side of the car to shake the thick snow off. A majority of it falls and I brush off the rest before throwing myself back into the vehicle and pulling out.
It’s a good thing the SUV is all-wheel drive. Still, I have a hard time on the road that hasn’t been plowed yet. I guess they decided not to do anything for the campus since it’s closed. The SUV slides and lurches back and forth as it fights through snowdrifts. There’s no way we’re going to get to Scholar before the lamia, but hopefully, the lamia won’t be able to get there so fast either. I finally make it to the main road and skid across an ice patch.
“Seriously!” I shout and turn the wheel, steering the tires into the skid before managing to regain control as the all-wheel drive regains traction. This is ridiculous.
A huge, orange snowplow comes up in the opposite lane, a cloud of snow rolling off the metal scoop. An idea strikes me, the sort that could get me in big trouble, but I’m up for anything to get to Hawk. I yank up a box underneath the passenger seat and sift through the emergency supplies. Once I find what I need, I step out of the SUV, blink against the snow, and light the flare in my hand. The snowplow has already passed so I aim at the front near the scoop, raise the flare, and hurl it.
The flare tumbles in an arc through the snow but the wind catches it so it ends up landing on the hood of the truck. The massive vehicle comes to an abrupt halt and I run up behind it through the trail it made and jump onto the step next to the driver’s side door to bang my fist on the window, careful not to shatter the glass.
“I need help! Open up!” I shout.
A stout, heavy-set woman stares wide-eyed at me under a bomber hat and wrapped in enough layers its like she’s hiding in a comforter.
“Just look at me!” I shout again and gesture to the bloodstains all over my jacket. Unfortunately, I don’t have a badge I can flash at her to make her comply.
She gestures at me to back up. Hoping it’s not so she can just pull away, I step down so she has enough room to open the door. Luckily for me, she does.
“Did you throw a flare at me?” she says as she leans out the door.
“I had to get your attention,” I shout over the rumble of the truck and roar of the wind. “We’ve got people injured at the southeastern end of the college campus, but we can’t get out with this storm. Please, you have to help us.” She glances over her plow, undecided, so I say with all the desperation I’m feeling, “You’re our only hope, or they could die.”
With a sharp jerk of her head, she says, “What can I do for you?”
“Thank you,” I say and rest a hand on her arm. “They’re at the Solon Campus Center. If you can plow me a way, I can follow in my SUV.”
“The college is supposed to be closed,” she says and hunches down so her chin is hidden in the layers of the jacket.
I shrug and wince at the pain in my neck. “I know I might not look like it, but I’m with the FBI. We were chasing several suspects that took another agent hostage.”
“Then where’s your badge?”
Non-existent. “Lost it in a struggle. The agent in charge can explain once we get there. I promise.”
Her pudgy hand reaches for something on the side of her seat that I can’t see. Probably a gun or pepper spray, who knows. As long as she drives and doesn’t try to shoot me, I’m good. She studies me for a terse ten seconds before her hands go back to the wheel and she nods. I jump off the step and hurry to my SUV as she turns around in the intersection up ahead and blasts back down through the snow. The SUV follows easily in her wake and, just as she promised, she plows a way through the storm right to the front of the center. She comes to a halt outside the doors, and I throw the SUV into park before racing outside.
Climbing back onto the step, I knock on the window and she cracks open the door for me.
“Wait here,” I say. “I’ll have Agent Boyd badge you in a second and then we need to get one of our agents out of here so he can be treated.”
The driver looks bewildered but at least she doesn’t leave when I run into the building. Melody’s waiting for me inside the doors.
“What on earth is a plow doing here?” she says and raises a hand to the big orange beast, its hazard lights flashing through the snow.
“We need to get out of here and having a plow is our best option.” I jerk my thumb over my shoulder. “I told her we’re FBI. It’ll be fine.”
“Protocol dictates that we don’t involve civilians,” she argues.
“Then protocol’s going to kill Charlie and Hawk,” I snap. “So screw protocol. Let’s get him out of here.”
I march past her to Charlie slumped in his chair. At least he’s more alert. I guess that little bag of blood helped.
“What’s going on?” he asks weakly.
I grab his arm to wrap around my shoulders and pull him to his feet. “They took Hawk and I’m going after them.”
“Took him? Why?”
I avert my eyes. “They’re looking for someone else. A couple someones actually.”
Despite Melody’s protests, she holds the door open as I help Charlie out and guide him to the second row seats of the SUV. Melody heads over to the snow plow and flashes her FBI badge at the driver. Once Charlie’s buckled in, she stalks back only to draw her bio-mech gun and aim over the hood of the SUV at something I can’t see. I stiffen and reach for the machete hidden under the seat where Charlie sits.
“It’s us!” Jefferson calls.
I hustle around the vehicle to find him and Nessa each carrying one of the fallen selkies across their shoulders. Nessa practically shoves me out of the way to ease her deceased comrade into the SUV next to Charlie. After Jefferson settles the other in on the opposite side, I take Jefferson by the arm and pull him away out of earshot of the others.
“Do we tell them about Scholar?” I ask.
“I’m pretty sure that’s the whole reason they’re here,” Jefferson says and throws a hand out towards Nessa. “They came here to protect her but Scholar didn’t want them to, so she made them stay out of Moose Lake and Sturgeon Lake to make sure they didn’t draw attention to the area.”
“Well, that seems pointless now,” I mutter and run a hand over my hair to draw the whipping strands out of my face.
Melody comes up behind us. “Before we go anywhere else, we’re headi
ng to the Duluth Field Office to pick up Charlie’s blood supply. I can drive the SUV.”
“I’ll drive the snow plow,” Jefferson volunteers. “We can’t bring a civilian anywhere near this. Phoenix, you’re with me.”
We hustle to our assigned spots. Jefferson leaps up into the cab of the snowplow and I fumble my way in after him. The woman—whose name I never thought to ask—sits like a turtle hiding in the bundle of her clothes. Only her head peeks out.
Jefferson takes the middle spot next to her. “I’m sorry but this is your stop. It’s too dangerous where we’re headed.” And classified. “We’ve already called for a squad to come pick you up and take you home. We’re taking the plow.”
She starts to protest but Jefferson very kindly escorts her out of the vehicle and then assumes her spot in the driver’s seat.
“Just like riding a bike,” he mutters as he inspects the controls uneasily.
He takes stock of every button and shifter in front of him before putting the massive rig into gear and then, finally, we’re moving. Jefferson guides the snowplow with precision out of the narrow campus roads and into the surrounding neighborhoods.
The snow flies around us illuminated by the emergency lights mounted on each corner of the enormous snowplow. I allow myself to lie back in the seat and catch my breath. My body aches from everything that’s happened not only today but over the last week. Everything has to happen all at once, doesn’t it?
My eyes are half lidded and I’m ready to take a fast nap when Jefferson pushes something crinkly into my hand. It’s a small bag of beef jerky.
“Where’d this come from?” I ask.
He pats his pocket before putting both hands on the wheel. “I always carry some around. Just in case. You probably should start the habit.”
“Yeah. Thanks.” I rip into the bag and stuff the jerky into my mouth. Using my magic and having my blood drained has sucked away my energy and I’m going to need every last ounce when we go up against those lamia.
The Bite of Winter (International Monster Slayers Book 2) Page 32