Cold Spell

by E. A. Copen

  And that was the basis of her job, to operate in the gray areas between two extremes. To do what needed done, no matter the cost. Could she continue to do that and still care about Nic? Her work hadn’t seemed at odds with how she felt about him before, but now she wasn’t so sure. Nic was a good man, and he deserved a good woman as his mate. Jackie couldn’t be a good woman.

  Osha intensified the drumming suddenly and the shadows on the walls elongated, distorting into strange and unfamiliar shapes. Something in the air changed, the magick thickening into something darker, more primal.

  Jackie’s wolf reared inside her as if called, but she resisted the Change, fighting against the urge.

  The shadows coalesced into a single pool of darkness, writhing and ever shifting. Then, the shadow changed, taking on the form of a great wolf. It threw its head back and let out a silent howl that sent ripples of visible power through the air in a rainbow of colors. Lights appeared in a ring around the ceiling of the small hut, electric green, icy blue, and dawn pink. They danced and curled like smoke, stretching upward into sharp edges that threatened to cut the roof away.

  The Northern Lights, Jackie thought and took a step back. All over, her skin prickled against the call of the magick and the wolf. She gritted her teeth against the call and sank to her knees, hands on her head. In the end, it was all for nothing. The Change came upon her unbidden, shadow and light dancing all around her.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  T aking on the mantle of Amarok was like putting on a coat of living fur, if the fur was made of electricity. The Change burned like never before, leaving Nic fully aware of every muscle fiber and raw nerve ending.

  He didn’t know how long it took, and remained utterly unaware of everything happening around him, the pain too much to focus on anything else. When he gained his wolf form, however, he found himself unable to move of his own free will. A heavy weight sat on his chest, in his shoulders, and around his neck, holding him down.

  Something is wrong, said his wolf. We’re being held down by some unseen enemy!

  Nic bared his teeth and flared his nostrils, taking in every scent he could, but he found the smells around him unfamiliar and the air tasted of blood. He opened his eyes and saw Osha’s hut around him, but it was as if he peered through a pair of glasses or goggles. The room was oddly distorted, blurring at the edges. Only the room was suddenly much more crowded than it had been before.

  Dozens of people squatted around the room, their skin black, their faces hidden by masks of carved ivory. The expressions on the masks ranged from neutral to terrified and seemed to shift without reason. The people waited expectantly, watching him. The weight of their collective gazes felt heavier than whatever held him down.

  Osha too had changed. No longer did she stand less than five feet tall. She’d grown into a tall, slender, and beautiful woman with raven hair. She glowed with magick power, the light flickering in pace with the beating of his own heart.

  Amarok’s eyes. He was seeing through the other wolf’s eyes.

  Another wolf rose next to him, staggering to her feet and keeping her head low. At the sight of her, Amarok’s thoughts and emotions invaded his own. Overwhelming lust flooded his body, to the point where he was glad his limbs remained pinned against the floor, leaving him unable to rise. The monster he’d let take control didn’t care for courtship or honorable behavior, only about taking what was his, conquering the unconquered, claiming all that was in his domain. And this she-wolf needed a lesson. Packless, alone, unclaimed, she’d dared come so close and it had been so long since he had known the touch of another. Confined to the spirit world, the best he could hope for was to feel the chill of the icy wind when someone spoke his name.

  No, Nic growled inwardly and struggled against the thoughts invading his mind. He could barely tell the difference between his own thoughts and feelings and those of Amarok, but the mantle of the other wolf was quickly becoming too strong for him to keep control.

  If we cannot mate with her, then let us eat her, Amarok growled in return. The feel of hot blood on our tongue would surely be as satisfying. So rare am I given flesh, we must feel skin rendered between our teeth and claws. Yes, let us hunt and kill this worthy prey!

  “If your sense of self is not strong enough, Amarok will quickly overwhelm you,” Osha had said. Maybe that was what was happening. He was lost underneath the weight of becoming more than himself. Somehow, he had to take control. But how?

  Amarok longed for the hunt. He’d latched onto Jackie as a possible target, a mistake. He must’ve been feeding on Nic’s own desires. When the Change began, he’d been thinking of her, more than a little conscious of her eyes on him as he removed his clothing. One thought led to another and, as he often did to ease the pain of the Change, he’d fixated on a pleasant memory. Only this time, that pleasant memory had been the kiss he and Jackie had shared outside the house earlier in the afternoon. Amarok had taken that and twisted it to something darker, something it was not meant to be.

  Jackie closed on where he lay, sniffing, ears back.

  No, Nic’s wolf commanded firmly when Amarok thought to lunge at her. She is mine to hunt. You deserve greater prey. Hunt the Mahaha.

  Amarok considered it for a moment. While it was clear the great wolf did not like being ordered about, hunting an ancient demon sounded enticing. The Mahaha’s long claws would be good for picking the meat from between his teeth.

  The Mahaha has invaded your territory and hunts your people, Nic’s wolf continued.

  Amarok let out a low growl that Nic’s mouth echoed. This cannot stand.

  We’re in agreement, then? We hunt the Mahaha?

  Agreed.

  The pressure pinning his limbs released and he scampered to his feet, shaking dirt from his fur. Jackie approached and rubbed her shoulder against him as if to ask, “Are you okay?”

  He was standing, and in control of his body and mind once more. Amarok’s thoughts were still present, his impatience growing, but they were walled off to a different section of his mind, clearly someone else’s thoughts and not his own.

  Osha stepped forward, her hair blowing back as if she were being struck by a wind he couldn’t see. She held the scrimshaw they’d taken from Tara’s wall out. “Get the beast’s scent and find it quickly. You must slay it before low tide.”

  Low tide. When was that? The wolf didn’t know time in the same way the man did, but if Nic recalled correctly, that would be just before midday this time of year. It’d be hard to judge time considering the dark, so he’d better hurry.

  He leaned forward and took in the scent, nearly gagging at the rotten earthy and bloody undertones of it. Underneath all that, he recognized Tara’s scent. He would’ve missed it had he not been looking for it, but now that he knew she was the Mahaha, it was clear.

  The spirits—the masked people—stood in unison and pointed toward the exit, their message clear. Time to go.

  Nic turned and pulled himself through the narrow opening into the little hut. As a man, it had been a tight fit. His shoulders had nearly gotten stuck more than once and he’d had to crawl with his chest flat to the ground. As a wolf, he needed only to duck and walk, paying careful close attention to where the passageway narrowed.

  Jackie moved along behind him, silent and attentive, watching his every move for a cue. Had he the voice of a man, he’d have told her to turn back. With Amarok’s power coursing through his veins, he was more than strong enough to take down the Mahaha, and she was more a distraction than anything. Despite her earlier objections, she did need protecting, perhaps even from him. Even if he snapped at her and tried to force her to leave him, she wouldn’t, so he didn’t waste his time. Amarok was already incredibly impatient to escape the confines of the hut.

  He crawled free of the opening and shook more dirt from his fur. The wind and snow had picked up, creating a blinding wall of white that hid everything from view. Dammit, that would make it even more dangerous for Jackie to foll
ow him. If they were separated, even by a few paces, she’d lose her way and possibly freeze to death.

  Jackie crawled out of the entry way behind him and sniffed the air, hopefully thinking the same thing. Just the same, when Nic took a step beyond the shelter, she followed.

  Got to focus on the task at hand. Nic raised his nose and sniffed the air, but all he could smell was snow, saltwater sea, and Jackie nearby. A whoosh of air from behind made him duck low, but when he looked, he saw there was nothing at all to fear. The masked people from inside the hut had followed him out and shot into the sky, dancing and twirling, singing a low song in the back of their throats. Their dance carved out a path of light in the sky. The Aurora Borealis!

  Amarok scoffed. Spirits of the ancestors. Do they teach you nothing?

  Whatever it was, it lit a clear path north, a path even Amarok agreed they should follow.

  Nic took off at full speed, running with his nose in the air, following the path the masked people danced out in the sky further north.

  He thought about what was in that direction. Not much, considering they were already at the top of the world. North of Barrow, there was nowhere to hide.

  There wasn't anything out there but sand and snow, but sometimes tourists liked to go out there in the summer. It was a booming business, renting ATVs out to tourists who wanted to visit the northernmost point in the US and take a picture. But in the winter, it was a desolate wasteland where no one dared go. The icy winds coming off the sea weren't even the worst of it. Going in an ATV would’ve been impossible in this storm. Nic was suddenly very glad to be on four paws and have the guidance of the Northern Lights on his trek north.

  Once he got north of town, there was nothing but a tiny strip of land and angry ocean on either side of him. He'd hoped to find some sign of Justice or his ATV there, but there was none. No sign of Jackie, either, when he turned around to check. He must’ve lost her in the storm.

  Nic turned around, intending to go back and look for her. The glowing trail was quickly fading back the way he’d come, meaning he couldn’t go back very far without risking getting lost himself. The more time he spent looking for Jackie, the less time he had to find the Mahaha. But if he didn’t go back for her, she might freeze to death or fall into the ocean and die of hypothermia before anyone knew she was missing.

  Amarok forced him back around. We hunt the Mahaha. It’s close.

  Nic tried to argue, but it was no use. The lights behind him had already disappeared from the sky, and turning back meant he might never find his way again.

  Jackie is smart, he told himself. She’ll find a way to survive.

  As soon as he turned around, a tall, lean shape lumbered out of the darkness, long fingers scraping against the top layer of snow. It had only one arm now, the other little more than a stump hanging limply from its deformed shoulder.

  He lowered his head and growled. Amarok bared his teeth.

  But the Mahaha didn’t answer. It only lumbered closer, until it was close enough that Nic could make out its empty eyes. He took a step back, preparing to pounce. Bo was right. There was nothing left of Tara in there. Whoever she had been, the person he had known, was gone.

  As the Mahaha advanced, he planted his feet and waited for the right moment.

  The Mahaha closed on them with big, lumbering steps, arms outstretched, unnaturally long fingers clicking together. When it was almost within reach, Nic ducked his head and barreled forward. The Mahaha grabbed for him, but when it did, he dropped into a roll and narrowly avoided its claws. The creature whirled around and darted after him.

  Nic came up ready to charge the Mahaha again, this time targeting its legs. A few good bites and the creature would have to go to the ground where the wolf would have the advantage. With its size and clumsy movements, and his enhanced strength thanks to Amarok, the Mahaha didn’t stand a chance. He ran for it, latching his jaws on the beast’s leg.

  The Mahaha cried out in agony and raked at him with its claws, tearing open Nic’s side. Warm blood flowed down, dropping into the snow in big, steaming globs. He needed to let go, back off and reassess, come at the Mahaha from behind, perhaps where it would be more difficult for the monster to get its claws in him. The injury wasn’t serious, but if the thing took another swipe, it might spill his guts all over the snow. Even Amarok’s mantle wouldn’t stop that from happening.

  But Amarok refused to release their hold on the monster. He had his prey within his grasp. Why let it go now? Even if Nic’s physical form was destroyed, Amarok would live on to hunt another day.

  Nic clawed at the snow as the Mahaha dragged him backward. It clawed at him again and sent more blood rushing down his side. Another swipe of its claws just barely missed his face, but it made a fist and slammed it into the side of Nic’s snout, forcing him to let go. He fell, dazed, rolling several times over in the snow and leaving behind streaks of iron-scented blood.

  When he came to a stop, it was at the feet of a man in a heavy white coat and tinted goggles. In mittened hands, he held a metal baseball bat stained with even more blood. White clouds drifted up into the snowstorm as the man let out a breath.

  Justice, Nic realized. He tried to get up, but the blood pouring from his side left him too weak to stand.

  “About time you showed up,” Justice said, raising the bat above his head.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  N ic disappeared behind a wall of white and Jackie cursed inwardly. The stupid snowstorm had separated them. She followed his scent a few more paces, but after that the wind carried it away. She stood no chance of trailing him, not in this weather. Even following his footprints in the snow became impossible after a few yards. The snow was just falling too fast and filled them up again.

  Maybe the mantle of the wolf spirit would be enough to help him win. The magick Osha used had been strong, strong enough to overwhelm Jackie and force her to Change, too. But Nic didn’t have full control over the mantle, that much was clear. It’d almost overwhelmed him when he took it on. Left alone, he might get himself into more trouble than he could handle.

  How will I find you now? Jackie thought, sniffing at the ground. She turned right, left, east and west, and found no trail. I wish Bo were here. He’d know what to do.

  Bo was the expert tracker, the nature lover. Unless Nic was hiding among a pile of magickal items or tax returns, Jackie’s nose was useless for that sort of thing. With Bo incapacitated, she felt useless.

  I’ll just have to think like Bo. If I were Bo, what would I do? She closed her eyes and sniffed the air, searching for any smell that would tell her where she was in relation to the town. At least if she could figure that out, she might have an idea of where to go. On the wind, she caught scent of burning propane. The wind blew southwest to northeast, meaning she was probably somewhere north of town. There wasn’t much north of Barrow, just a small strait that fed into a chunk of land. No one lived up there, perfect place for a predator like the Mahaha to consume its prey.

  But there was something else on the wind: the coppery scent of blood. Whether it was Nic’s blood or someone else’s, she had no way of knowing.

  Jackie followed the scent as best she could, her nose to the ground. Whenever she found the scent lighter, she turned around and tried another direction until she picked up the trail again. The snow came down faster, harder, limiting her visibility even more. She walked along, pushing against a solid wall of white, unable to see even two inches in front of her nose and relying completely on scent to take her anywhere.

  She ran until her bones ached and the pads on her feet were numb. She thought perhaps she’d lost the scent again until she came on a mound of snow eight or nine feet high. A small section extended out from the main mound, into which a hole had been dug. It was a real igloo, a replica of the ones she’d seen in a documentary.

  Jackie crept up to the entrance, nose to the ground. No sounds came from inside. As she closed the distance, the scent of blood got even stronger. Werewolf
blood. Nic’s. She saw the stain on the ground just moments after smelling it. The stain was large and dark, spread out over a three–foot area, suggesting he’d lost a significant amount of blood. Even with the mantle, things didn’t look good for Nic.

  Jackie paced back and forth in front of the blood stain, deciding what to do. She didn’t dare charge in, not without knowing what waited for her inside. She needed a plan. Just charging in after the Mahaha would get them both killed, if Nic wasn’t dead already. In an enclosed space like the igloo, it would clearly have the advantage with its long claws. From what she’d heard and seen, they couldn’t expect to exhaust the Mahaha by outrunning it, either.

  What was it Osha had said? It must die as a beast, or remember its true self. She thought of the scrimshaw she’d given Bo, the image of the Mahaha staring at its own reflection in the water. Maybe the key was getting the Mahaha to remember that she was Tara. Or maybe the Mahaha didn’t want to be Tara anymore. She couldn’t blame her. Tara had a shitty life in a shitty town. Who would want to go back to that? Maybe Tara didn’t want to come back to that life.

  I’ll have to lure it out, away from the igloo, she thought. But first, I have to get Nic to safety if he’s alive. That means going in there.

  Jackie steeled herself against the very real possibility of finding him dead just inside the igloo, ducked her head, and dashed inside.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  N ic groaned and opened his eyes to a ceiling of white. It was ungodly cold, and whatever he was lying on was the most uncomfortable thing ever. Not to mention the throbbing pain in his arm. He hurt everywhere, including the splitting headache, but nothing hurt as bad as his right arm. As he came to, he remembered everything that happened to him. He came back slowly, as if he wasn’t fully awake. He had to work for every thought twice as hard. When he was awake enough to glance down at his right arm, he suddenly knew why.