by R. J. Blain
“I do. Please,” I begged. Leaning over the counter, I checked for any sign of Richard. “I…I don’t suppose you’d be willing to send them to me in a few days, would you?”
“Of course. But in exchange, if you get any good ones of Richard, I want them.”
I held out my hand. “Deal.”
We shook, and after she let me go, she showed me photos of the busted-up sled with Richard unconscious next to it. Frank stood over his Alpha, doubled over from laughter. “Poor Richard.”
“So, what has Richard so obstinate this time?”
I covered my face with my hands and whimpered. “I crashed his Porsche.”
“You crashed his Porsche?” Jessica whispered. “His old 911?”
I shook my head, and ashamed, I whispered, “His pink Porsche.”
“The new one?” she blurted. “I thought he only got it a few months ago. He actually let you drive it?”
“She had help crashing it, none of which was her fault,” Richard said, making his appearance in the doorway, leaning against the wall. “Nicolina, you didn’t so much crash the Porsche as you helped it reach its full potential. I consider it a very clever test of its gymnastic skills.”
“Richard, your Porsche doesn’t have gymnastic skills. It’s a car,” Jessica muttered.
“It was a car,” Richard agreed, pouting. “So, here I am, without my baby, stuck in an SUV with Charles Desmond and Frank all the way from Seattle. That’d kill anyone’s patience.”
“Wait, she really crashed your Porsche?” Jessica pointed at me while gawking at Richard. “You really let her drive your new Porsche?”
“I did. She was doing a perfectly good job of it until my parents helped her flip it,” Richard grumbled, shoving off the wall to grab a mug and the kettle. “As I said, long week. So, she needs to blow off some steam, I need to blow off some steam, and we decided we would blow off steam together at the expense of her parents and Frank. To be fair, they did push her buttons fairly hard.”
“You really let her drive your Porsche.”
“From time to time, I can be a generous being, dear Jessica. She needed the driving practice.”
“It handles like shit in the snow,” I grumbled, staring down at my hot chocolate while my face burned from my embarrassment. “I was doing your pack a favor.”
“That’s what your father said about my jet. Don’t do that, Nicolina. That’s terrible,” Richard complained, sitting next to Jessica.
“Your jet?” Jessica sucked in a breath. “Wait. Didn’t you fly down to Seattle in your jet?”
“I had a jet. I loaded the Porsche in the cargo bay so I’d have it in Seattle. Desmond turned it into scrap. I only crashed it a little bit landing. Fine, the landing gear completely failed, but that’s no reason to destroy my jet! I was going to have it fixed, but no. He decided to recruit the help of some cohorts, and they trashed it. Did I mention this has been a horrible week? I heard him stating he was going after my Cessna next. Have a heart, Jessica.” Sighing, Richard took a sip of his hot chocolate. “Which magazine has this year’s stock in it?”
Jessica dug through the pile and slid one over to Yellowknife’s Alpha. “Most of the good ones are in there.”
Flipping through it, Richard made thoughtful noises. When he settled on a page, he turned the magazine to me. “Do you like this one?”
“It’s silver,” I stated, wondering what I was supposed to like about it. “The red stripes are nice.”
Richard claimed the magazine and shoved it in Jessica’s direction. “Think a newbie to the trails could handle it?”
“I think a five year old with a broken foot could outrun that piece of shit,” the woman replied, flipping through the book. “Yes, she could handle it, but really? She’s not a baby; she doesn’t need something that tame. She wants this one. Reliable, decent on gas, fast enough, and easy to steer. She won’t win races on it, but she shouldn’t fly through the windshield either.”
Richard frowned. “But it’s black. Black’s boring.”
“We’ve got a yellow one and a red one in stock, never fear. If you give me an hour, I can add some decals and spruce it up while Al deals with registration and trail passes for the sleds. Your sense of fashion will not be terribly abused. Do you know what sled you’re picking out?”
“Al’s already called it in to be prepped for the trails,” Richard reported with a smug grin. “He also has my credit card, so you better like me.”
Jessica’s cell rang, and she picked it up to stare at the display. Sighing, she shook her head. “It’s Frank again. I like you today, Richard, but only because you’re buying your way into my good graces. Please excuse me while I throw him off your trail.”
Richard bought a lot more than two snowmobiles. He acquired new snowsuits, gloves, boots, and helmets with two-way radios so we could talk to each other while riding. He had racks installed on both so we could carry extra gas to limit the number of times we needed to fill up.
Al and Jessica left on one of their snowmobiles to pick up our new sleds while we waited in their cabin.
I was dozing on the couch when Richard sat on the arm beside me. “You going to be awake enough to head out once they get here with the sleds?”
“I thought you needed everything customized to your liking,” I mumbled through a yawn.
Richard laughed. “Never fear. Al is cooking up a new baby for me in his garage oven. I’ll pick it up in a couple of weeks. Best of all, he’s not going to charge me for the sleds until after we’ve reached Yellowknife, since my brother has access to my online statements and would snitch on me given half a chance.”
“Why are you spending so much money on this?” I reached out and poked his side. “It’s ridiculous. Couldn’t we have just rented those things?”
“Rent? Blasphemy, Nicolina. Anyway, we wear out snowmobiles fast at the lodge. It’s the primary way we get around the area. They’re not like cars, so after a couple of seasons, they’re ready to be retired from active use. We sell the used ones off for cheap and buy new ones. I’ll have acquired a few extra this year, but it’s fine. Just means I can cull a couple extra older ones from the garage.”
“How the hell do you afford so many of them?” Sitting up, I stretched and yawned. “Dad says the trick to having money is to avoid wasting it. That’s pretty much what the classes at Stanford teach too. Profit good, waste bad.”
“I’m just better at making money than your father is. You’ll see when we get to Yellowknife, as you’ll be helping me dig out of the pile of work I need to do.” With a grin, he picked up a steaming mug and handed it to me. “I am going to give you two choices.”
“This can’t be good,” I grumbled, taking the mug. “What choices?”
“We can make a straight run to Yellowknife or we can stop for the night somewhere along the way. There are a few motels Frank probably won’t think to check. Up to you.”
“How long is the ride?”
“It’ll probably take us fifteen hours, give or take a few. Depends on the weather and trail conditions. If the trails are groomed, we’ll make good time.” Richard hopped from his perch and sat next to me on the couch, reaching out to pick up a map from the coffee table. “Motel is probably for the best. We’re both a bit worse for wear.”
“Sure. Just no changing and bleeding all over the place again. It’s gross,” I grumbled, though it wasn’t the blood that worried me. While Richard was acting relatively normal, he seemed a little pale to me and too nice, which I decided was due to him being too tired to put any effort into his normal barbs.
“As you wish, Princess Midget of the Rail Kingdom.”
The taunt made me want to wrap my hands around his throat and shake him. “Watch your mouth, Lilac.”
Richard narrowed his eyes, leaning towards me. “Or what?”
I flushed and heat spread across my cheeks and worked its way down my neck. Grabbing the map out of his hand, I smacked him with it. “I’ll beat you.”
“Promise?”
The hopeful tone of his voice embarrassed me even more, and I spluttered before grumbling, “I’ll have Frank beat you. I heard about the broken nose and the wrist.”
Faking a faint, Richard sprawled on the floor at my feet. I glared at him, got up, stepped over him, and took my mug of hot chocolate to the kitchen. “Where is the motel, and how long will it take for us to get there?”
“Six hours. I’ll call and see if Sophie has any vacancies. It can be a crap shoot this time of year for rooms because of so many people traveling. If not, I have a few ideas and can call in a few favors without word spreading.”
Richard got up and followed me, grabbing the phone mounted on the wall. Dialing a number from memory, he tapped his foot as he waited. “Hey, Sophie. It’s Richard. Do you have any rooms available for tonight? Yeah, I can hold.”
Drinking down the rest of my hot chocolate, I rinsed the mug and checked the dishwasher. When I discovered it was empty, I loaded it with the few dishes littering the counter. Once done, I retreated in the direction of the living room. Just as I was crossing the hall, Jessica and Al came in, stomping snow off their boots.
“Oh, you’re back already? Hi,” I said, halting in the doorway to the living room.
Between the two of them, they had four large bags filled to overflowing. I hurried to take one, grunting in surprise at how heavy it was.
“The sleds are all ready to go and they even have registration tags,” Jessica said, shooing me in the direction of the living room. “Where’s Richard?”
“Kitchen. He’s calling some motel about a room,” I replied, dragging the bag I had claimed behind me.
“He finally chose to do something wise for once? I’m truly impressed.”
“Please forgive my wife, she loves goading Richard whenever possible. He’s one of the few Fenerec who won’t snap at her when she gets uppity, eh?” Al said, dumping his bags in the hallway between the kitchen and the living rooms. Like Jessica, his dark hair was sprinkled with gray and he was quick to smile. “I packed extra tools and loaded them on Richard’s sled. You’ve both got extra gas, and I filled both tanks up from the supply here. You’re set to go when you’re ready.”
“Thanks. I really appreciate your help,” I replied, flushing at having imposed on them.
“We’re booked,” Richard announced, stepping out of the kitchen. “You’re miracle workers. Thanks for going above and beyond the call of duty.”
“Anytime, Richard. You two better haul out of here before Frank starts sniffing around and catches wind you two were around,” Jessica warned, kissing the Alpha’s cheek. “Nicolina, there’s a change of clothes in that blue bag for you to wear with your snowsuit.”
“Thanks,” I replied, grabbing the bag and heading to the bathroom, hoping I wasn’t about to add a snowmobile crash to my growing list of wrecks.
It took me less than an hour to learn two very important facts about snowmobiles. First, the damned things were rockets with skis attached to them. When I told it to go, it went. It didn’t waste any time deciding to get moving, which was as exhilarating as it was terrifying.
Second, deep snow sucked.
I wasn’t sure how I ended up in the drift, but it dined on a fine meal consisting of me and my snowmobile. The fine powder settled over me, leaving me half-buried. Wiping my hand over the visor proved futile as more snow tumbled into the hole with me.
“Well, shit,” I grumbled.
“Problem?” Richard asked.
I sighed, wondering how to tell Richard I was stuck without having to admit I had slid the sled off the trail. Did my mishap count as another wreck? “I found some snow.”
“That’s amazing. Absolutely astonishing. Is there something special about the snow you found, Princess?”
“It eats people and their snowmobiles, you peasant,” I announced, standing up to peer over the drift.
Richard brought his sled to a stop and leaned against the windshield, shaking his head. “How did you end up there?”
“Princesses do not answer to peasants.” I grabbed a handful of snow and flung it at him, only to have it explode in a powdery mess without reaching my target.
Hopping off his sled, Richard leaned over the edge, bracing his hands on his knees. Laughing, he jumped down, sending powder billowing up around him. “You’re something else. I thought I said not to crash into anything.”
“I didn’t hit a single thing,” I replied. “This doesn’t really count as a crash, does it?”
“I’ll let you off the hook this time on a technicality.” Grabbing me by the waist, he lifted me off the snowmobile. I squeaked, but before I could get a hold on him, he boosted me up onto the trail. “Normally, I’d say get yourself unstuck, but I think I’d end up waiting a week if I did.”
Sitting on his snowmobile, I crossed my arms over my chest. “I didn’t know the snow would eat my sled!”
Richard pulled my sled back enough so the front end and skis weren’t buried before hopping on. Instead of reversing like I expected, he plowed through the drift, got stuck, pulled the sled out, and tried again. On his fourth attempt, he circled around, zipping between the trees to return to the trail.
“You couldn’t just reverse?” I asked when he came to a halt beside me.
“I could have just dragged it back onto the trail using brute force, too. It’ll be dark soon, so make sure you keep a careful eye on the trail or we’ll be spending all evening digging you out of drifts.” Richard chuckled, shooing me off his snowmobile. “I expect to be properly rewarded for coming to your rescue, Princess.”
“Ah, right. Peasants were paid. Serfs weren’t. I guess I’ll simply have to downgrade you to a serf, then,” I retorted, hopping onto my sled. All things considered, I owed him for the help. “I suppose I will have to think of some reward for your efforts.”
“Does the pauper get a say in this?” Richard twisted around on his sled to face me.
I flipped him off. “How about I won’t drown you when we’re at the motel. That counts as a reward, right?”
“I’d like to see you try,” he challenged. “You? Drown me?”
“You have to sleep at some point, Mr. Murphy.”
“Then let’s make a wager, Miss Desmond.” Revving the engine of his snowmobile, he zipped away, leaving me to follow in his wake.
Careful to keep my sled on the trail, I opened the throttle, giggling at the snowmobile’s acceleration. “What wager?”
“He or she who falls asleep first tonight loses.”
“That’s lame,” I informed him, bringing my sled alongside his. “I also have an unfair advantage. Unlike you, I grabbed a few hours of sleep at Jessica and Al’s. You didn’t. I’d win. It’s like you want to lose.”
Richard snorted. “I have no intention of losing, Miss Desmond. I’m simply giving you a handicap as you are not a Fenerec.”
“You’re obstinate.”
“First, I’m a peasant, then you demote me to a serf. Now I’m obstinate? You are a cruel mistress, Princess.”
“Are you calling me your mistress?” I blurted.
Richard laughed, speeding up and pulling ahead of me.
“Don’t you run away, you freak! What the hell are you implying?”
“I haven’t implied anything, Miss Desmond. You implied it yourself. Admit it, you like the idea,” he taunted.
“You really want me to drown you tonight, don’t you?”
“You’d have to be sharing a room with me to drown me in my sleep. What are you implying by that?” Once again, Richard laughed. Turning off the trail, he plowed through the snow, weaving through the trees. “If you don’t slow down, you shouldn’t get stuck.”
Muttering a curse, I followed after him. “Why are we leaving the trail?”
“Do you want to get caught? We will if we stay on the trail too long.”
“Great. While I’ve upgraded from sneakers, I still have the half-dead Fenerec. You know what’s going t
o happen? I’ll end up in the middle of nowhere lost because we’re leaving the marked trail. You’re trying to get us both killed, aren’t you? A polar bear or something is going to eat us.”
“Don’t worry, Princess. With me around, you won’t have to worry about any polar bears, grizzlies, or monster spiders.”
“I still owe you for that spider,” I snarled at him. “I really should drown you for that.”
“Just remember that you started it. If you hadn’t left a rattlesnake in my shoes, I wouldn’t have needed to retaliate. You may have started it, but I’m the one who will emerge the victor.” Instead of sounding angry or annoyed as he should have, he was amused.
“You already got me back for the rattler,” I complained. “Who leaves a dead snake on someone’s pillow? That was so disgusting.”
“I’ll wrap it in pretty pink ribbons for you next time so it isn’t as gross,” he teased.
“Don’t you even dare think of leaving another dead animal on my pillow, you hear me? I will hunt you down and kill you. I will wait until you’re a wolf and skin you for your pelt.” While I wanted to pull ahead of him and spray snow in his face, without knowing where I was going, I was stuck following him.
“I will consider your request. Next time, perhaps I will leave a live animal on your pillow. Maybe I’ll just leave myself on your pillow,” he taunted.
“Do you want me to kill you? You really want to die, and you want me to be the one to murder you. Is that it?”
“I can think of worse things than being chased by a beautiful woman.” Richard chuckled, weaving his snowmobile through the trees. “I look forward to your efforts. I will endeavor to be excellent and challenging prey for you. But you better watch your back, Princess. I have a horse in this race too, and I have no intentions of losing.”