by R. J. Blain
“Good job, Frank,” I scolded myself, testing my arms and legs for breaks. Fenerec were tough, but broken bones still caused trouble, and I didn’t enjoy the idea of having to strip and shift out in the middle of the bush.
It’d be troublesome enough dragging Richard’s sled somewhere I could have it fixed. With my mate, Vivian, away for the weekend doing business for the pack, taking the snowmobile out for a long ride had seemed like a good idea. I needed the distraction from being separated from my wife, my wolf’s need to mate, and my daughter’s absence, as she had gone with Vivian for the trip.
How better to defend my puppy from young, rutting males than to send her away to a place without Fenerec? It hadn’t taken Vivian much to convince me, but I missed them both.
Without my mate and puppy around, our home was a lonesome place, and not even hanging around the pack lodge or shadowing Richard filled the empty space in my life. They’d only be gone a few days, but I needed them back.
I muttered a few curses and glared at the dead racing sled. Taking a touring sled would’ve been wise, but no. Richard had left me with the stupid keys to his new baby, and the temptation had been too much.
If I had taken one of the pack’s many touring sleds, I wouldn’t have been tempted to leave the main trail. I probably wouldn’t have strayed farther than Richard’s house, a two-hour ride from the lodge. Instead, I had cut south in the direction of Slave Lake for no other reason than the fact I didn’t know the trails leading there very well.
Why had I thought a change of scenery would help?
Maybe Richard would overreact, but for once, he had just cause. I grimaced, pulled my right foot from the shredded track, and shoved the sled off my left leg. Had I been a Normal, I wouldn’t have been able to free myself; even racing sleds weighed a lot.
Maybe if I pretended nothing was wrong, Richard wouldn’t think too much about anything I might have accidentally revealed to the pack during the crash. Hiding anything from Richard took work; his unrivaled hypersensitivity for the pack meant he already knew something was wrong. Even through my headache, I felt something stirring in the pack bonds, although I couldn’t pinpoint exactly what.
I put my bets on Richard having a panic attack over a disturbance in his perfect little world. Sometimes, having an overprotective freak for an Alpha wore away at my last nerve.
Part of the fault was mine; I had agreed to be Richard’s Second. If I had known it would result in the Alpha’s overprotective, obsessive tendencies focusing on me, I would’ve made Tully take the job. Instead, my long-time friend enjoyed his position somewhere in the middle of the pack, safe from the brunt of Richard’s attention.
Shaking my head intensified the throb in my skull, and with a muttered curse, I took off my helmet. The visor was cracked, and it had a lot of new dents and scuffs in the back that hadn’t been there when I put it on that morning.
Maybe if I laid low for a while, dragged the sled to Slave Lake for repairs, and pretended nothing was wrong, Richard would forget anything had happened.
I took a long look at the sled, grimacing at the thought of how much it would cost to fix. While I could probably afford to replace the sled, there was no way Vivian wouldn’t notice the excessive charge on our credit card statement. Without doubt, the bank would call to verify I really meant to buy a snowmobile worth over twenty-thousand dollars.
Richard wasn’t just going to kill me, he was going to hang my bloody pelt from the lodge rafters as a warning to the rest of the pack. My mate would help him.
Even if, by some miracle, Richard hadn’t noticed the crash, Vivian would have. We’d been together far too long for her not to notice. I could sense when she stubbed her toe.
Ramming my head through a pine tree hurt a hell of a lot more than a stubbed toe.
“I’m a dead man,” I informed the busted snowmobile. Something in the engine gurgled, and dark oil stained the snow.
Breaking Richard’s sled was bad enough, but when Vivian found out I’d broken my cell, too, she was going to tan my hide and offer it to Richard as a present. No matter what I did, the device refused to turn on. Cracks webbed over the screen, ensuring even if it were operational, I’d end up with bloody fingers trying to use the damned thing.
It wasn’t even a week old.
Without my phone, I couldn’t pinpoint my location and pick the most direct route to Slave Lake. I had lost track of time after leaving Yellowknife; I’d gassed up at least three times and the spare tanks strapped to the back of the sled had fortunately been empty when I had made a close acquaintance with the pine tree.
I considered myself lucky I had headed south instead of north; somewhere nearby, there were two people who could possibly resurrect Richard’s sled from the dead, assuming I could find their cabin hidden in the middle of the bush.
Left with no other choice, I stripped and braced for the pain of transforming from man to wolf. The early winter chill numbed me, but in the time it took to exchange my thin, human skin for thick fur, the sun had set.
While I’d never match Richard’s size, I weighed in at almost three hundred pounds as a wolf. Dragging a five hundred plus pound snowmobile ranked fairly low on my list of things I wanted to do, but I grabbed the machine by one of its struts and went to work.
It took me a little over a day to drag Richard’s sled to the shores of Slave Lake, where I abandoned it somewhere I could find it again. From there, it took me less than an hour to locate the trail leading to Jessica and Al’s place.
Smoke rose from their cabin’s chimney, and after a quick circle of the cabin to make sure there were no Normals around, I sat at their front door and knocked with my paw, careful not to scratch the door.
Jessica would have enough reasons to kill me once she saw what I’d done to Richard’s sled.
Al answered the door, and the man blinked, looked down, and sighed. “Fucking wolves.”
Sometimes, it was best to bow my head, look apologetic, and hope for the best.
“Unless there’s another wolf who likes masquerading as a tiger, I’m going to guess you’re Frank.”
I nodded.
“Richard called.”
Yep, I was a dead wolf when my Alpha got a hold of me. Whining, I lowered my head and hoped Al would take pity on me.
Al sighed. “Where’s the sled?”
Since I couldn’t answer as a wolf, I hopped off Al’s front porch, trotted to his garage, and pawed at the bin containing the tow cables. While Al and his wife Jessica were Normals, they had relatives in Slave Lake’s pack. Their snowmobile dealership catered to the Fenerec packs in the area, and Richard wouldn’t do business with anyone else.
Al grabbed a set of towing cables and went into his garage. Several minutes later, he backed out on a touring sled, one large enough to handle the job of towing the wreckage.
In order to relocate Richard’s sled, I followed my trail. Even at my fastest run, Al was able to keep up with me. By the time we arrived, I panted from exertion.
Al whistled and killed the engine of his sled. “Okay, this explains a lot. Jessica thought Richard was overreacting as usual, but I’m starting to think there was something to his freak fit. That’s not a sled, Frank. That’s a pancake. What the hell did you do to it?”
I refused to look the Normal in the eyes.
“There’s no way I can fix that, Frank. I might be able to salvage some parts, but it’s a goner.” Al clucked his tongue, circling Richard’s sled while shaking his head. “Let’s get this back to the garage. Who knows? Maybe Jessica can perform a miracle. She just loves a challenge.”
By the time Al had towed Richard’s sled to his cabin, I wobbled from exhaustion. I flopped on the oil-stained concrete and groaned. Within moments of Al killing the engine of his sled, the door connecting the garage to the cabin opened. Jessica took one look at the wreckage and screamed, her scent acrid from her fury.
“Someone better have a damned good explanation for that!” Jessica pointed at t
he twisted plastic and metal that had once been a very expensive snowmobile.
“Remember when Richard called earlier?”
“That cry baby. Yes, I remember.”
“Remember how he said he thought something was wrong with Frank?”
“I remember.”
Al pointed at me. “Let’s do some basic math. What do you get when you combine a tiger-colored Fenerec and a fast sled?”
“Rubble, apparently.” Jessica crossed her arms over her chest. “I really hope you’re not about to tell me that used to be Richard’s new sled.”
“I’m pretty sure it used to be Richard’s new sled.”
Jessica bit her lip, stepped into the garage, and crouched beside the trashed sled. “I don’t think I can fix this, Al. Frank, what the hell did you do?”
I huffed.
Al nudged me with his boot. “Come on, Frank. I’ve got spare clothing that should fit you. Let’s get you inside, warmed up, and fed. Then you can tell us what happened and how the hell you got here.”
Lurching to my paws, I followed Al.
Al thought I had a concussion, and I agreed with him. Ignoring the incessant throb in my head tired me out almost as much as listening to Jessica scream at me over the state of Richard’s sled. I had earned the lecture, so I kept mostly quiet while she tried to flay the flesh from my bones with words alone.
“It was an accident.” I had lost count of the number of times I had used those four words as my main line of defense.
“You should know better, Frank.” Jessica sighed. “Fine. What possessed you to take Richard’s sled so far away from Yellowknife? It’s a twelve-hour drive, eh?”
“Vivian and Kelly are out of town,” I confessed. “Richard left me with the keys.”
“So you took his prized, brand-new sled on a joy ride from Yellowknife to Slave Lake.”
“I didn’t think I had gotten this far.”
“You haven’t called your wife, have you?”
I grimaced.
“You’re killing me here, Frank.” Jessica stomped into her kitchen. Before she could pick up the phone, it rang. She blinked and answered, “Hello? Oh, Vivi. I was about to call you.”
Groaning, I bowed forward and ran my hands through my hair. My fingers caught in tangles and mats, and I grimaced. Why couldn’t transforming fix things like blood-matted hair?
“I see. Well, calm down. Frank’s fine. Al thinks he has a concussion, but he’s otherwise intact. Richard’s new sled? Not so much. What do you want me to do with him? He’s cowering on my couch, probably convinced his Alpha is going to kill him. For the first time in my life, I think I’m going to have to side with Richard on this one.”
Al chuckled, circled the couch, and slapped my back. “Don’t worry about it, Frank. We’ll cover for you long enough for your concussion to heal. That way, when Richard comes to kick your ass, you’ll at least be able to give him a bit of sport, eh?”
“Thanks, Al,” I grumbled.
“Hey, Frank? Your executioner wants to talk to you.”
My first mistake had been crashing Richard’s sled through a tree. The second had been hoping for mercy from Jessica and Al.
My third would be taking the phone and talking to my mate, but I got up, took the phone from Jessica, and said, “I’m sorry.”
Sometimes, Richard got it right; his tendency to apologize for everything had rubbed off, and getting straight to the chase might buy me a few minutes of life.
My mate sighed. “Are you all right?”
“I crashed Richard’s sled through a tree.”
“Through a tree?” Vivian’s voice rose an octave.
“I’m sorry.”
“Are you all right?”
“Head hurts, but I’m otherwise fine.”
“You scared me.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Richard called in a panic.” Vivian sighed, and I imagined her massaging her temple while holding her cell, and I couldn’t help but smile. If my mate had any idea how much I missed her, she’d probably take some pity on me. “Is there a reason you’ve blocked yourself out of the pack bonds, or are you just trying to give me a heart attack?”
I hadn’t realized I’d been so effective at containing my presence; Richard was so sensitive it took effort to hide anything from him. “I’m sorry.”
“Frank.”
“I’m really sorry.”
“All right, you’re sorry. Why are you at Jessica’s place? How did you get there?”
“I took Richard’s sled.”
“You took Richard’s sled all the way to Slave Lake?”
When my mate got angry, her voice went from a pleasant soprano to piercing, and I braced for her to go up yet another octave. “The house was too quiet. Richard left me with the keys to his sled. I headed south and kept going.”
“You kept going. All the way to Slave Lake.”
“I had to drag the sled fairly far to get to Slave Lake,” I admitted.
“How badly is Richard’s sled damaged?”
“I crashed it through a tree, Vivian. It’s not damaged. It’s destroyed. I don’t think Jessica or Al can fix it.”
Jessica snorted. “I’m good, but I’m not that good.”
“Didn’t that sled cost Richard over twenty thousand?”
“Yes.”
“Now is when you start giving me reasons not to kill you the instant I get home.”
While I tensed from the apprehension of facing my mate’s wrath, my wolf was intrigued and wanted to know how she intended to go about it. I understood him a little too well; with the winter full moon on the rise, he didn’t care what form of attention Vivian gave us as long as it involved us together.
Without fail, I fell prey to the rut early, and my wolf had one goal, which was to get Vivian in bed as often as possible.
Controlling my wolf’s mating instinct involved several deep breaths and concentrating on having wrecked Richard’s pride and joy. “I have no good excuse. I was reckless.”
“I’m punishing you when I get home.”
My wolf’s interest piqued. “Promise?”
For a long moment, my mate remained silent. “You’re rutting early again, aren’t you?”
“It’s not my fault you’re so beautiful. Take one look at our puppy. Can you blame me for wanting another?” I somehow managed to avoid whining.
“Smooth, Frank. I’ll cover for you, but you’re going to owe me. I’ll head back to Yellowknife tomorrow morning as planned. It shouldn’t be too hard to convince Richard he’s overreacting. I don’t care how you do it, just fix his sled. Understood?”
“Understood.”
Al and Jessica took pity on me and let me sleep on their couch while they tried to resurrect Richard’s sled from the dead. I helped, although my involvement was limited to offering tools and watching them try to separate the ruined parts, mulched pine, and shattered plastic into piles.
Not much could be salvaged.
Jessica sat back on her heels and shook her head. “How are you still alive, Frank? You weren’t kidding about going through a tree, were you? Wood doesn’t belong inside the engine. I thought you knew this.”
“It’s a good thing I’m a Fenerec.”
“I can tell. There’s nothing I can do, Frank. I can give you a good price for the parts and something for the scrap metal. The good news? I can get a replacement overnight; the dealership in Edmonton bought extras. Cassie owes me a favor. If we work together, it won’t take long to get his modifications installed. I bet she’s got the mods I need. Al?”
“We’ve got some of the parts in stock. I’ll get her on the horn and see what I can do.”
In the aftermath of the crash and the worry of how Richard would react once he discovered what I had done to his sled, I had completely forgotten about my wallet, which I had put in the sled’s rear-seat storage compartment. “Did my wallet even survive?”
Jessica laughed, reached behind her, and grabbed a crowbar and
wrench to bust her way into the trashed seat, and a few minutes later, she pulled out my wallet. “It seems it did. Lucky you!”
I took my wallet and hunted for my credit card. As Richard’s Second, I was entitled to a no-limit credit card, something I didn’t use very often. It was meant for pack business, but I’d pay off the balance before Richard got the bill.
Vivian wouldn’t be happy with me for delaying our purchase of a new car, but I’d find a way to replace the funds, even if it meant I had to enslave myself to Richard for extra work—assuming my Alpha didn’t murder me.
“If there’s any way you can make the replacement better than the original…”
For a Normal, Jessica had a frighteningly predatory grin. “I was hoping you’d say something like that.”
In my effort to keep Richard from detecting my anxiety, I continued to isolate myself from the pack, careful to avoid reaching for the bond tying me to Vivian. I didn’t like it and neither did my wolf, but instead of whining, I made myself useful. While Jessica and Al worked on Richard’s replacement sled, I cleaned. When I had nothing left to clean, I turned my efforts to the garage.
Jessica gave me a toolbox, pointed at Richard’s trashed sled, and ordered me to try to put it back together.
I had the feeling she wanted me out of the way, but I wasn’t about to argue with the woman who might come between me, Richard, and a very painful death. She claimed it was a lesson to teach me to avoid further stupidity.
In several hours, I managed to turn the metal, plastic, and leftover parts into something vaguely shaped like a snowmobile. “It’s Frankenstein’s Monster, the sled edition,” I quipped.
Jessica took one look at my creation and burst into laughter. “You’re hopeless.”
“Why am I doing this again?” I cleaned the tools and put them away, shaking my head at my handiwork. “I could’ve sworn you were just going to scrap this thing.”
“I want to see Richard’s face when he sees his sled. Then, I’m going to take pictures, pictures I will use to blackmail him in the future.”