by E. A. Copen
“No,” the voice pleaded. “Please don’t. Please don’t kill me!”
Another voice cursed his name.
Yet another begged to be spared for the sake of his child.
With each voice, a face came to mind, nameless faces of the dead. Of the men and women he had murdered. He’d carried their ghosts all the way to Barrow with him, and without his sleeping pills, he’d be completely at their mercy until the sun came up. In Barrow, it would be a very long time before that happened.
The omega, he thought. She could quiet the voices. Calm him. But Aspen wasn’t going to let him near her, not after what happened earlier.
Bo pulled the pillow tighter against his head and ground his teeth. He’d just have to live with it for now.
Chapter Seventeen
J ackie woke with a start. She hadn’t meant to fall asleep. At least nothing seemed to have happened while she was out. The room was as she’d last seen it, everything in its place. Nic lay in his bed with his back to her, chest rising and falling at regular intervals. She could make out the movement against the pale glow of the adjoining bathroom light he’d left on.
She rubbed her sore neck and turned her head, cracking all the stiff joints. Nic didn’t stir, not even as she stood. The clock next to him told her it was seven. She’d let him sleep much longer than the four hours she’d promised, but he probably needed it. Of all of them, he’d been through the most. Unlike the others in his pack, he couldn’t break down, couldn’t show even the slightest hint of weakness. Though she was no alpha, and hadn’t spent most of her life in a pack, Jackie sympathized. She and Nic had that much in common at least.
For a second, she thought about sneaking out and letting him sleep some more. Maybe she could get someone else from the pack to keep watch. His second, Bryce, would be a good option. But then Nic would get left out of the investigation, and he might have useful information. Not that information was the only reason she wanted him with her. This was his home, his pack, his problem. In the end, she and Bo would have to leave and Nic would be left to pick up the pieces. They had to leave him in a position to do that, or else what point was there in fixing things at all?
Leaving. She’d only been in Barrow a day and already the thought of leaving the quaint little town bothered her. She’d felt an odd connection to this place, to Nic, ever since stepping off that plane. And that’s why I don’t go on missions like this, she thought, inching closer to the foot of the bed silently. It’s too hard to say goodbye.
How many homes had she lived in before settling in with Bo as a troubled fourteen-year-old girl? Every month it seemed like she had a new foster family, a new address, new rules to learn. New people to please. It took her too long to realize she couldn’t please anyone but herself, so why bother? Why waste time on other people? In the end, all that ever came of friendships were more goodbyes, and goodbyes were too painful.
She turned away from the bed. It’d be easier to just fill him in later. The floor creaked under her step and his even breathing broke to take in a deeper breath. A heartbeat of time passed, but he didn’t wake. She let out the breath she’d been holding, opened the door, and slipped out.
Bo’s room was on the other side of the hallway. The old man would probably still be asleep, considering he’d been wounded the night before. While he needed his rest, she still wanted to roust him before going to pack her own things so he’d be ready at the same time as her. She stopped in front of his door and knocked lightly, just loud enough she was sure he’d hear her. No response.
“Bo? It’s Jackie. We need to get going.”
Still no answer. Maybe he was already up. She tried the doorknob and, finding it unlocked, pushed open the door.
Jackie wrinkled her nose at the smell inside. The bloodstains had been hastily cleaned up the night before with bleach water, leaving the entry smelling of bleach, but there was something else underneath that scent. The swampy-earthen smell of old, foul magick lingered. With as strong as it was, Jackie expected to open the door and find the creature’s arm still lying there, but it was gone. Nic had moved it somewhere before it finished melting. The smell remained, staining the room. She didn’t know how Bo could stand it.
And there he was, sleeping peacefully on the bed with his back to her, the blankets pulled up over his shoulder.
“Get up, Bo,” she called from the door. “It’s time to go.”
He didn’t move.
It didn’t seem that unusual for him to fall into a heavy sleep considering the night before. Besides, he had those sleeping pills. If he’d been stupid enough to take two instead of one, she’d probably have to drag him out of the room and dump water on his face to get him fully awake.
Jackie sighed and ventured into the room, careful not to step on any of the stains. All the fluids were washed away and dry so there was no chance of her getting anything on her shoes. She just couldn’t stand the idea of putting her feet where it’d been.
Once she made it to the bed, she put a hand on Bo’s shoulder and paused. His skin was cold to the touch. What if he’s dead? She entertained the thought only briefly before she dismissed it. Bo was old, but he wasn’t that old, and his injury hadn’t been that serious. More likely, he’d just been chilled by the cool of the night.
“Bo!” She shook him.
He rolled over suddenly, eyes wide open and bloodshot, face pale, but still damp with sweat. He blinked. “What?”
“You look terrible.” She placed a hand on his head that he quickly pushed away, but not before she noted a fever. “How’s that cut on your arm?”
“I’ve had worse.” He sat up, rubbing his head. “What time is it? I don’t think I got a wink of sleep last night.”
“It’s no wonder. Smells like a crime scene in here and you’ve got a fever. Let me check that arm.”
“It’s nothing.” He shoved her away and stumbled out of bed. “A couple of ibuprofen and I’ll be fine. It’s not that bad.”
“At least let me see your arm.”
Bo turned on her, showing his teeth and snarling fierce enough, Jackie took a step back. “Dammit, girl, I told you no! Leave me be!”
It’d been a long time since Bo had snapped at her like that. Of course, he was under a lot of stress, and injured. Her drawing attention to that injury had probably irritated him. Yes, that must be it. If Bo said he was fine, there was little she could do to convince him otherwise.
Jackie relaxed when Bo finally turned back to rummaging through his suitcase. “Fine. Have it your way. I’m going to go pack up. I’ll meet you downstairs in fifteen and find someone to drive us over.”
He didn’t say anything, so she assumed there were no objections and left.
Packing didn’t take long; she hadn’t bothered to unpack. Mostly, Jackie spent the next few minutes tidying up the room, making the bed and placing everything back where she’d found it. Since she hadn’t slept in there, even that didn’t take much time. It wasn’t long before she found herself downstairs, arranging a ride over to the Top of the World Hotel with Aspen. It was her first time talking to the busy-bearded werewolf on her own, and she found he irritated her, not because of anything he said or did, but because the beard obscured the bottom half of his face. It made his facial expressions even more difficult to judge. Thankfully, their interaction was short and to the point, since Bo came downstairs, suitcase in hand, just as he’d agreed to take them over.
He looked a little better, albeit still tired. The way he pulled his suitcase down with his arm stiff, she could tell it hurt, which probably meant it wasn’t healing normally. Oh well. If he said he was fine, what was she to do? She knew better than to argue with him.
“All set?” Aspen asked, shrugging on his coat.
Bo grunted something that sounded affirmative and they set off.
Despite being after seven, it was still pitch dark outside as if it were the middle of the night. That was something she’d never get used to. On her short walk to the ATV, Jacki
e tried to imagine living there in the summer months when there would be sun at midnight. She found the thought preferable to the constant darkness.
The ride to the hotel wasn’t a long one, but on the way over, Jackie decided to try and organize their day. “We’ll need to coordinate with Nic a time to go and see Osha,” she said, tapping the screen of her smartphone to add it to her agenda. “But I’d really like to get back out to see Justice first and have a look at his ATV. If he’s involved, there should be signs of blood.”
“Should lean on him harder to find Tara,” Bo suggested, arms crossed.
“No offense, but pushing Justice harder isn’t going to make him talk,” Aspen offered. “He won’t respond well to pressure. Never has. Just makes him clam up more.”
Bo turned to study the man. “Then what do you suggest? We don’t have time to play at being friendly.”
Aspen shrugged. “Don’t talk to him at all. You want answers? Just go look at the ATV. What’s he going to do? Call the cops? They don’t get involved in our business. Worst he can do is pick a fight with one of you, and neither of you’d be wrong to kill him before he causes more trouble.”
Jackie leaned forward, frowning. “Justice is your former packmate. You don’t have any qualms at all about suggesting he should die?”
Aspen turned the ATV down another road before answering. “Nic should’ve killed him the minute he objected to Bryce. He knew from the start—just like the rest of us—it would cause trouble eventually. I think he was waiting for Justice to make a wrong move, to become aggressive instead of just trying to weasel and stalk his way back into the pack. But Justice is too smart for that.”
“Huh,” Bo said. “Finally, someone with some sense. I’ve been wondering why he didn’t just kill Justice from the beginning. He had no trouble killing Anabelle when it seemed she was a threat to his pack.”
“Not everyone can kill with a clean conscience,” Jackie snapped at Bo. She regretted saying it as soon as she spoke, knowing she should’ve saved her objections until they were alone. Still, it needed said. The reason Bo couldn’t understand Nic’s actions was because Nic was a good man, someone who cared about his pack. She wasn’t sure Bo cared about anyone but himself.
“It ain’t that.” Aspen shook his head. “Justice’s family roots run deep here. You know about his gran, Osha, right? Oldest person in Barrow. She’s been here since before statehood. Says she still remembers when Will Rogers’ plane went down, and they put that memorial. That was in the thirties.”
“That puts her in her eighties at least,” Jackie said.
“Celebrated her ninetieth a couple years ago and still as sassy as ever.” Aspen nodded. “Point is, they’ve been here forever. Nic’s family is old too, but most of them went south, him included. He only came back a few years ago. Old people around here say he’s got too much of the south in him now. Look down on that kind of thing like he’s not tough enough or something.”
Jackie made a mental note of that. It could be a source of animosity between Nic and Justice. It’d explain why he’d be involved in what was going on. He’d probably felt slighted by being bumped down the pack in ranking. He might even resent Nic telling him what to do and think he’d be the better alpha. Having been Nic’s second previously, Justice was probably qualified to lead. That was, if he hadn’t spent the last year pissing off the rest of the pack. He might not see it that way, though.
“So,” Aspen continued, “if you want to wait on getting approval or cooperation from Justice, you’ll be waiting for the sea to boil. Justice is mostly hiding behind his family name. Behind Osha. You want to get to him? Talk to her. Old woman practically raised him. She ain’t afraid to give him a smack with her cane.”
If Justice is afraid of her, what kind of person is this Osha?
The Top of the World Hotel appeared ahead, a strange stack of boxy-looking shapes that seemed haphazardly thrown together. It was a building of three floors, maybe twenty rooms on each based on how many windows she counted. Some parts of the building were painted a sky blue while the rest were a rustic red, an odd combination if you asked her. Somehow, it fit the building and its strange construction just fine.
“Well, here we are,” said Aspen, pulling up to the front door. “Nic has your number in case he needs you, right?”
“And we have his,” Bo grumbled and opened the door.
Jackie wasn’t so eager to go back into the cold and dark. “Thank you for the ride, Aspen. Please look after Nic. Make sure he eats something. Last night was hard on him, too.”
Aspen gave her a little salute. “Yes, ma’am. You want help with your bags?”
“No, thanks.” She flashed him a smile and got out.
After hauling the luggage in, Jackie had a short conversation with the hotel staff. Check-in wasn’t until noon, but since the hotel was mostly empty, the staff made some exceptions. Normally, Lou would’ve called to book reservations as soon as he knew he’d be sending them, but they’d cancelled those reservations when Nic insisted they stay with the pack. A mistake in hindsight.
She watched Bo struggle pulling his luggage off the elevator and frowned. Though maybe if they’d gone to the hotel instead, he wouldn’t be hurt. At least he didn’t look pale and feverish anymore. The pain medicine must’ve done him some good.
“What time do you want to go see Osha?” she asked him as they rolled their suitcases toward their respective rooms.
“What time is it now?” Bo’s response was clipped. He wasn’t in the best of moods. “Should’ve gotten Nic up when we left. We don’t have all day to wait for him to wake up.”
Says the man who didn’t even respond when I called into his room. Jackie rolled her eyes. “I’ll call him from the room and tell him to meet us there. That good enough for you?”
“Perfect,” said Bo in front of his room.
Jackie made sure he got in okay before opening up her room and frowning at the neatly made bed and cute little writing desk. The place had all the trimmings of a typical hotel room, another stop on the road to somewhere else. Even her house in Billings seemed that way now that she was barely there.
Jackie thought of the dead goldfish still floating in their tank. She sighed and pulled her suitcase through the door. What was the point of having a home if it stood empty all the time? All that space, going unused. Her home wasn’t at all like Nic’s. A week ago, she never thought she’d miss the business of a crowded house. She might’ve even preferred the rigid cleanliness of the pristine hotel room. Standing in the middle of it, however, she found she missed the smell of Bryce’s cooking wafting through the floorboards, and the slight draft from the windows. Most of all, she missed the constant murmur of other voices. It’d become comforting.
Oh well. This is for the best. She tossed the suitcase onto the bed and sat down. We’ll be leaving Barrow soon enough.
On any other job, she would’ve been excited at the prospect of returning home. This time, all she could think about was how empty her big house would seem after this.
Chapter Eighteen
N ic showed up and remarked pleasantly that today was warmer than yesterday. Bo couldn’t see how. At sixteen below, it was still cold enough to freeze the balls off a brass monkey. Standing outside with his daughter, her would-be boyfriend, and Bryce to knock on an old woman’s door did not make him think warm thoughts, either. Mostly, his arm throbbed and his head ached, and he was ready to fly south and warm up. To hell with Alaska.
“It’s early yet,” Nic said. “But Osha’s always been an early riser.”
Bo pulled the warm knit cap further down his head to make sure his ears were covered. “I don’t know how you people tell the difference between night and day up here.”
“Not everyone does. When it’s dark all day, you just kind of settle into a rhythm.” Bryce lifted his knuckles to rap on the old, fiberglass door.
Time had yellowed the door’s edges and turned the crisp corners inward. It matched the rest of
the house’s thrown-together look. Anywhere else, Bo might have called the tiny house a trailer judging by the way it stood on short stilts several feet above the snow. It certainly looked like one. But every building in Barrow was raised away from the ground. This one had a wide set of blue stairs leading to the door. Someone had salted the steps over the last few days, but it’d started snowing again and the bottom step was already nearly covered. The other two were as slippery as if no one had maintained them at all. Someone needed to knock the icicles down from the gutter, too, and patch that spot in the roof that was currently covered with a tarp. Foam insulation obscured the tiny, sliding windows on the side of the trailer, blocking out any light that would indicate whether the old woman was up or not, but smoke trailed from the tired little chimney that smelled of old, boiled beef.
Before Bryce’s hand could come down on the door, it jerked open. The move knocked several inches of snow lose from the overhang and sent the fine, cold powder tumbling over Jackie and Nic.
Nic wiped snow from his face and grinned like an idiot. “Morning, Osha!”
The woman in the doorway grunted. She was a diminutive thing, maybe four feet and eleven inches tall. Fissures of wrinkled skin and sagging cheeks gave her a bulldog look that the silver braids did nothing to soften. A dark brown mole decorated her upper lip, just to the right of her nose. She smelled of Gold Bond and gravy.
Osha’s slit eyes cracked open further as she took in the two strangers at her doorstep next to Bryce. “So you’re the ones Llywelyn sent.”
That piqued Bo’s interest immediately. There weren’t many people alive who spoke of Lou using his first name, and even fewer who knew how to say it with the proper Welsh inflection. It was why everyone simply called him Lou, because no one could say the man’s damn name. Yet this old Inuit woman spoke it as if she knew him, the same way he’d heard Lou speak his own name. He didn’t teach people to say his name the right way, not ever. He didn’t want it to be used in any spells.