by R. J. Blain
“What do you mean by that? Richard? Hey! Don’t just go riding off, asshole! What do you mean by that? Richard!”
Instead of answering, Richard increased his speed and vanished over the crest of a hill, leaving a haze of powered snow in his wake.
Sometime after dark, my snowmobile had enough of me, dumping me off in a last act of defiance. I ended up at the bottom of a gully while it remained at the top, mocking me with its headlight beams. Static burst through the helmet’s speakers, but if Richard spoke, I couldn’t hear him through the noise.
While the snow had cushioned my fall, my head spun from the number of times I had rolled before halting. Sighing, I flopped onto my back to stare at the sky through the bare-branched canopy. Instead of the moon or stars offering their light, curtaining bands of green and yellow illuminated the darkness.
Canada was trying to kill me, but at least it had a pretty sky. I giggled.
The rumble of an engine and a second set of headlights warned me of Richard’s approach. He slid down in a controlled fall, thumping to his knees at my side. Yanking off his helmet, he dumped it into the snow before pulling mine off.
“Nicolina!”
“Hey, Richard. I found some more snow,” I replied. Another giggle bubbled out of me. I pointed up at the shimmering sky. “That’s pretty.”
“Are you okay?” he demanded, peeling off his gloves and tossing them aside to run his hands down my throat.
“I don’t think my snowmobile likes me very much,” I confessed, watching the colors shift and swirl as they danced across the sky. “I rolled down the hill. I think I broke my helmet.”
“You could have broken your neck!” Richard snarled, pressing two of his fingers to the side of my throat while he poked and prodded at the rest of my head. “Are you hurt?”
“I don’t like rolling down hills. It always makes me dizzy,” I complained. “It found my weakness and exploited it. I don’t even know how it did it. It just dumped me off. You obviously bought a demon-possessed snowmobile.”
Leaning down, Richard pressed his forehead to mine, looking me in the eyes. “Nicolina, did you hurt yourself when you fell? Answer me with a yes, a no, or a maybe.”
Richard’s breath was warm against my skin and not even the bitter cold chilled where his forehead touched mine. There was no reason for me to enjoy him being so close, not when we hated each other like we did.
His wolf-yellow eyes didn’t quite glow, but the darkness couldn’t hide their color.
“Nicolina?”
“Maybe.”
I should’ve said yes.
Rattling my brain in my skull when I fell into the gully was the only explanation. If I were in my right mind, Richard so close would have classified as misery of the highest order. I should have bitten him or cracked my forehead against his to make him back off and go away. I should have rammed my knee into his gut instead of allowing him near me.
There were many things I should have done to him, but instead of acting on any of them, I stared at him like an idiot.
“What hurts?” he demanded.
Breathless, I whispered, “My pride.”
Richard laughed. “We all fall. Your ego aside, were you hurt?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“Then you should be fine within five or ten minutes. It’s you we’re talking about, after all,” he murmured, and the deep rumble of his voice made me shiver from more than the snow and cold. There was a hesitancy in his touch as he massaged my neck with his thumbs.
Warmth flooded through me, accompanied by a pleasant tingle. When I gasped, Richard pressed his lips to mine. When he pulled away, I gawked at him, holding my breath.
Part of me wanted to hit him while the other part didn’t want Richard to stop. Heat seared my cheeks.
“I expect better when you’re in your prime,” he whispered in my ear.
Unlike his kiss, there was nothing gentle about the way he nipped my throat, startling a cry out of me. Lightning zapped down my spine, leaving me trembling in its wake and unable to move. “Richard!”
“That was punishment for crashing your sled,” he murmured, his mouth still pressed to my neck. “Do so again at your own peril, Miss Desmond.”
Richard’s bite left me incapable of walking, and with a smug smile, he carried me to the trail, lying me on the seat of his sled. I don’t know what I did to my snowmobile, but Richard battled with it for over an hour, which I spent watching the Northern Lights dance across the sky. The snowsuit kept the worst of the cold off me, but by the time Richard stood, snarling a curse, I had turned into a human popsicle.
“We’ll have to tow it to the cabins,” Richard growled, giving the track of my sled a solid kick. “How did you manage to get a license? If I’m a hair witch, you’re a goddess of vehicular death and destruction.”
“Dumb luck, apparently,” I grumbled. “I don’t even know what happened.”
“You hit a pair of drifts. You went one way and the sled went the other. That actually happens a lot. However, most people just chase their runaway sled down, get on, and keep going. With you? Well, one of the skis got caught on something under the snow and came to a sudden and final stop. Maybe I can fix it at Sophie’s place where I’ll have better light and more tools. The ski’s trashed. At least you didn’t damage the engine. If it’s just a ski replacement, that’s not too bad.”
I groaned, draping my arm over my eyes. “I broke a brand new snowmobile?”
“Al’s going to have a good laugh at my expense.” Richard chuckled. “Looks like you’re stuck riding with me. That’ll teach you to break your sled while out in the bush. And no, you may not drive. The good news? It’ll only take a few minutes to rig a tow. The better news? We aren’t far from Sophie’s.”
I groaned at the thought of reaching somewhere warm. My stomach chose that moment to gurgle a complaint, which made Richard laugh.
“Don’t worry, I asked Sophie to feed us when we arrived,” he assured me, pulling out a set of straps from his tool box. I sat up to watch him remove a belt from my sled and tie the sleds together. Instead of attaching the straps to the bumpers like I thought he would, he looped them through my sled’s suspension above the skis. Once done, he handed my helmet to me. “Think you’ll last twenty minutes?”
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to break it,” I whispered, staring at my helmet while my face burned from embarrassment.
Richard shook his head. “Better the sled than you. Sleds can be replaced. Now scoot, Little Miss Vehicular Death Goddess, or we’ll end up spending the night out here.”
I shifted to the back of the sled, shoving my helmet over my head. While Richard had fiddled with the helmet’s radio, I didn’t know if he had managed to fix it or not. “There should be a law banning such cold temperatures,” I complained.
“You’ll warm up pretty quick at the motel. You can thaw out in the tub,” Richard replied. While there was still static, I had no trouble making out what he was saying.
“Oh, good. I didn’t break this thing at least.”
“It’s a cheap set. I wanted one I could just toss new batteries in without worrying about regular chargers since I didn’t know how long we’d be out in the bush away from electricity. You knocked the battery pack loose when you fell.”
While Richard’s sled was large enough for two, I was forced to sit close to him and hold onto his waist for the ride. While towing my sled, he kept his speed lower, and I discovered if I huddled as close to him as possible, I stayed much warmer.
The motel, which took us twenty-five minutes to reach, was a series of log cabins lining the shore of a small lake, which was frozen over and dusted with snow. Richard parked in front of the largest of the cabins, which still had its lights on. At three stories, it felt more like a mansion than anything else.
“Don’t be surprised if Sophie tans my hide. We’re only two hours late,” Richard said, sliding off the sled. “Let’s get you warmed up before you get too s
tiff from your tumble.”
Taking my hand, he pulled me off, dragging me in the direction of the front door. It opened before we reached it, revealing a tall, portly woman. Her arms were crossed. In one hand, she clutched a flour-covered rolling pin.
Richard pulled off his helmet and turned to take mine. “Sorry we’re late, Sophie. Sled broke down on the way.”
Sophie clucked her tongue, motioning for us to come in. “I graduated from chocolate chip cookies to apple pie. As you’re the fiend responsible for them, I may force you to watch your lady friend eat them while you do not have any. Richard, it’s thirty below outside. How dare you subject such a nice young lady to such temperatures?”
“Why am I always the one blamed? It’s like you expect me to do things like this,” Richard complained, peeling out of his snow boots.
I recoiled to the other side of the foyer. “Maybe you should leave those on.”
Glints of yellow lightened Richard’s eyes. “My feet aren’t that bad.”
“Don’t worry, Missy. I have air freshener, should his stench prove too much for us,” Sophie said, clapping her hands. “Come on, get out of those suits and come warm up. Richard, the attic loft is ready for you two once you’ve had dinner.”
Stiff from the cold, I was still fighting my way out of my boots by the time Richard had ditched his snowsuit, leaving it hanging on a hook near the doorway. Clucking his tongue, he knelt and helped me rid myself of my winter gear. My jeans and sweater had somehow survived the trip without getting wet, although I had doubts I’d ever feel warm ever again.
“You’re a lifesaver, Sophie,” Richard said, flashing the woman a smile. “Sorry to intrude with such short notice.”
“And miss out on the fun? Are you kidding? You, sir, are a very popular man, almost as popular as you, Missy. My phone has been off the hook for hours because of you two, and the more they call, the more I enjoy giving them the runaround. Perhaps as thanks for the chance to toy with so many at one time, I’ll let you have a cookie.”
I flushed, wondering just how much trouble I had caused, and how I could possibly be more popular than Richard, who likely had an entire pack of frantic wolves hunting for him. “I’m sorry for the inconvenience.”
“Inconvenience? Nonsense. The only inconvenience is if the cookies get cold before you have any. Come along. I’ll warm the kettle for cocoa. Coffee for you, Richard?”
“I won’t say no to coffee.”
Unlike the other cabins I had been in, Sophie’s place felt huge. Instead of rooms, columns and arches carved into the likenesses of wolves, owls, and other animals separated the kitchen and dining area from the living room. Fur rugs and wood-carved furniture clashed with colored glass sculptures, shelves lined with books, and the kitchen, which featured clean stainless, colored-glass tile decor, and golden oak cabinetry.
“I hope you two don’t mind roast. After Frank called me with his sob story, I figured you’d want a large meal, Richard. I haven’t seen him this riled up in ages. I don’t know what you’ve done, but your entire pack is in a frenzy.”
Richard coughed, and when I twisted to face him, his cheeks were red. “You’re embarrassed,” I blurted, pointing at him. “I didn’t know that was possible.”
Sophie patted my cheek before herding me to the table, which was large enough to easily fit twenty. “Sit, sit. Unless all of those big bad wolves have been trying to pull wool over these old eyes, you must be tired.”
“You’re not old,” I replied, sliding onto the bench.
Sophie whirled, pointing her rolling pin at Richard. “Richard, you couldn’t get a nice girl the normal way, so you resorted to kidnapping sweet, charming young ladies, didn’t you? For shame. Missy, if he tries anything, I’ll beat him, so don’t you hesitate to tell me.”
“I assure you, I did not kidnap her!” Sitting across from me, Richard groaned and slumped over the table. “Have mercy, Sophie.”
“I’ll consider it.”
“What did you tell them, Richard?” I demanded, reaching over to poke his arm. “You didn’t tell me what message you made Jessica send.”
There was a long, awkward silence, which Sophie broke by laughing. “Oh dear.”
“Richard Murphy,” I growled, digging my nail into his wrist. “What did you tell them?”
“Ouch! Okay, okay. You’re going to either kill me or kiss me,” he said, grinning at me.
I narrowed my eyes. “I’d count on kill. What did you do, Richard?”
Carrying two mugs, Sophie returned, handing one to me while she set the other in front of Richard. “It’ll be about ten minutes for dinner to warm up.” She sat next to me and rested her elbows on the table, watching Richard. “Do tell. What did you do, Mr. Murphy?”
“Nicolina’s father trashed my jet. I told him at Christmas if he didn’t return my jet, I wasn’t returning his daughter. I simply reminded him of this fact, and that if he couldn’t keep my hostage contained, I’d have to do it for him. If he can’t manage to catch us, then maybe I would actually keep her. I thought Frank was an equitable trade.”
There were hundreds of ways to murder someone, and I started going through the list of ways I could end Richard Murphy’s life. Drowning was too quick. Setting him on fire might have momentary satisfaction, but like drowning, it didn’t last long enough. However I killed him, it had to be slow and torturous. “You did what, Richard?”
“I gave Frank to your father and told him if he wanted you back, he’d have to catch us,” Richard replied, grinning at me. His touch was gentle as he pressed his finger to my nose. “I may have thrown in a monetary wager on top of it. If he catches us, I have to give you back and the jet’s my problem. If he doesn’t, he owes me a jet and a new Porsche, plus you’re all mine until the start of your next quarter. I may have also tossed in a clearance of all debts you owe your father for rent until your graduation.”
“You didn’t! God. He’s going to kill me, Richard. He’s really going to kill me and feed me to my sister’s devil kitten. Then he’s going to kill you and feed you to that monster, too. You’ve sentenced us both to death,” I wailed, lying across the table. “We’re so dead.”
“Admit it, Nicolina. It’ll be fun. I told him you were safe and sound. I promised I’d ensure you reached your destination without incident. However, the destination is subject to change. I may have informed your parents that they have made a significant error in judgment, and it was really in their better interest to play my game so you might enjoy yourself.”
My mouth dropped open at the thought of Richard openly defying my father, especially so soon after what had happened with his Porsche and his parents.
Richard was right. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to kill him or kiss him.
“It’s been fun,” I mumbled, averting my eyes. “Except the crashing the sled part. And the first bit. That part sucked.”
“Drifts,” Richard explained. “And after it dumped her, it committed suicide on something under the snow. As for the first bit, her parents teased her a little too much. They underestimated the stubborn pride and resourcefulness of a scorned teenager daughter.”
“So instead of doing the mature, adult thing, you decided to play,” Sophie said, shaking her head. The woman smirked, reaching over to pat Richard’s hand. “That’s so like you. Well, Mr. Murphy, I suppose I shall have to play a willing accomplice, along with every other Normal and Fenerec-born in the area. What fun! Jessica called me after you two had left, suggesting we add a few of our own cards to your hand.”
“Wait, what?” Richard demanded, sitting up. “Sophie, what are you talking about?”
“I have some contributions to your efforts, Mr. Murphy. First, a sled swap, which is probably a good thing, seeing that you’ve busted one of yours. I’ll have Bobby and one of his friends run yours down to Al’s to be fixed if we can’t take care of it here. You’ll take my touring sled for the next leg, along with a couple of the kids who think it’d be great fun to go on a joy
ride for several hours at my expense. The rest of the help will be around in the morning.”
“Wait. Richard? I thought you weren’t supposed to tell people…” With wide eyes, I stared at Sophie, wondering how she even knew about Fenerec, let alone involving other Normals.
“We’re near Yellowknife, Nicolina. It’s a big pack and a small community. It’s tough to hide something like that here. Sure, there are lots of Normals in the area who don’t know anything about Fenerec, but there are just as many who do—or realize there’s something more to my lodge than meets the eye. Don’t worry about it. Bobby is Sophie’s youngest son, who also happens to have caught the eye of one of my pack’s bitches.” Richard bumped his forehead against the table. “So Bobby is pulling Patricia’s tail? She’s really going to take him out back and have her way with him for the rest of her life if you don’t rein him in, Sophie.”
Sophie inhaled, covering her mouth with her hands. Her eyes widened. “Oh, my. I seem to have forgotten to bring my reins. Terrible, terrible. I guess I’ll just have to let her take my poor, poor boy on a ride.”
It took me all of ten seconds to realize what she was implying. I blushed.
“Seeing you’ve yanked the rug out from under me, what else have you cooked up, Sophie?”
“That’s for me to know and you to find out,” she replied, hopping to her feet and heading into the kitchen. “Time for you two to eat so you can go get some sleep. You have a long day ahead of you tomorrow.”
While Sophie said she had prepared a roast, I came to the conclusion she had butchered and stuffed an entire cow into her oven. Richard ate enough to feed an army, picked the bones clean, and left me marveling over how much one man could consume.
The more he devoured, the happier it made Sophie, who ultimately relented and let him have cookies and pie, which disappeared with as much enthusiasm as the rest of his meal.
“And I thought Mom and Dad ate a lot,” I muttered as I ignored Sophie’s protests and helped her load the dishwasher.