Winter Wolf

by RJ Blain

  No wonder it didn’t like me. Maybe I wasn’t a monster yet, but would that change when I killed another human being?

  Even if that ‘human’ was a murdering rapist.

  “What do you want to set up?” Amber asked, watching me.

  Electricity was my domain, and I still remembered the jolting agony of being tased. I picked up the rhodonite and the citrine, carrying them to the smaller bedroom. Without knowing what our prey would do, I needed to make certain I set traps everywhere. I doubted I’d be able to charge the stones with enough power to kill someone, but if all else failed, maybe I could immobilize him long enough to execute him. I shivered at the unpleasant thought.

  If my stones fired, it meant we were too close to being victims, just like the women from the photographs.

  I halted at the threshold, staring at the bed. “Hey, Amber?”

  “What is it?”

  “You’re the trial, judge, and jury, aren’t you?”

  The witch sighed, joining me in the hallway. “Sometimes. By the time the Inquisition sends me out, all I am is an executioner. They don’t send a fire witch after someone when they aren’t sure of their mark. We can see the truth, usually. Sometimes the Inquisition is wrong, but it’s rare. But that’s why they send us. To make sure they get the right person. Sometimes I’m grateful I can see what I see. I can go to bed knowing I helped people.”

  “But it doesn’t change anything, does it? You’ve still killed someone.”

  “It’ll change you, as it did me. But you decide how you change, Nicole. Will you walk away broken, or will you be able to accept what you’ve done and why you did it? That’s all on you. You’ve seen the photos of what he’s done. You’ve seen the purposeful way he’s stalking for targets. He means to kill again. Us, if he has his way. If it helps, don’t think about him as a human anymore. To me, he’s a rabid animal needing to be put down before he hurts someone. What will he be to you?”

  I didn’t have an answer, so I stepped into the bedroom and placed the citrine on the nightstand next to the bed. “Come touch this.”

  Amber joined me, setting her fingertips on the stone. “What are you doing?”

  “Ever been tased?” I asked.

  Her wince told me she had, so instead of waiting for her answer, I channeled some of the electricity I’d harvested into the stone into her. She jerked away with a yelp.

  “Ouch.” She rubbed her hands together. “That’s not going to stop anyone.”

  “Touch it again, I won’t hurt you. I’m going to turn this into a taser,” I explained, adjusting how I held the stone. While hesitant, Amber rested her fingertips on the top of the sphere. “I don’t want it to hit you, so you need to be here so the stone recognizes you.”

  “You act like it’s sentient.”

  I smiled a little. “Who says it isn’t?”

  “What do I need to do?”

  “Just keep touching the stone.” I sat on the bed without letting go of the rhodonite. Then I closed my eyes and focused on the electricity around me. Ever since I had witnessed Scott’s death, gathering energy had ceased being automatic. It felt strange purposefully drawing the energy from the hotel into me so I could channel it into the rhodonite. With the same hunger of a cell phone, the stone ate all of the energy I fed it. I didn’t use a spell to communicate my desire to the rhodonite, I remembered the debilitating agony of electricity coursing through me, robbing me of my ability to move or thing, quelling me with pain. I also poured all of my hopes and worries into it.

  The stone warmed and while it couldn’t speak, I felt its satisfaction, as if it understood it was meant to protect us—even if it meant hurting another to do it.

  I directed energy into the rhodonite until I doubted it could contain any more. Opening my eyes, I let out my breath in a sigh.

  The rhodonite glowed with a faint rosy light and Amber was staring at the rock with wide eyes. “It’s alive,” she whispered.

  “Is it?” I couldn’t help myself; I smiled and patted the stone affectionately. “This one likes me. The next one doesn’t. Hopefully it’ll agree to cooperate.”

  ~It will,~ the book announced. ~I took the liberty of showing it your memories of what this monster has done. It hates him more than it hates you.~

  “Why not?”

  I shrugged. “You’d have to ask it. I’m a wizard. Maybe that’s why.”

  ~It is,~ the book confirmed. ~You are not the first wizard it has met.~

  “I never thought stones could have feelings,” she said, her tone a little awed. “I never even thought to look. They’re rocks. I mean, sure, we use them to store energy, but they’ve never felt anything like this.”

  “That rock is far, far older than you and I will ever be. Old things have power.” I stared at Amber, amazed she wasn’t aware of that simple fact.

  ~You are a wizard. She is not. You do not see the world with the same eyes. You are a hunter. She is forced to hunt. It is not her nature. It is yours.~

  Considering my version of hunting involved the fridge, I ignored the book’s words as nonsense.

  “You’d think a witch would have noticed by now. We use focal crystals all of the time.”

  I shrugged. “It’s a tool to you, nothing more. Maybe that’s why you couldn’t see it, or feel it. Why look for something you don’t believe is there? It’s a stone. It doesn’t breathe or move. Science says they’re non-living matter. Have you ever tried looking?”

  “No, I haven’t,” Amber admitted.

  “I don’t see anything either,” I confessed, heading to the sitting room to retrieve the moonstone. While it still felt hostile, it warmed in my hand a little, as if willing to bend to my will—this time. Amber followed me. I considered the opalescent sphere. Of all of the stones, it was likely the most powerful. But where to put it? The citrine needed to be close to be effective. That left the large sitting room, where the moonstone’s influence could reach as much of the penthouse suite as possible. “I feel them.”

  “You feel them? How?”

  I stared into the depths of the moonstone. “In my hand it feels warm. In my head it’s angry. But I’m always aware its emotions aren’t mine.”

  “But why would it hate you? Is it blind? Give me that!” Amber snatched the moonstone out of my hand and stared at it. “Listen up, you piece of rock. She’s got enough troubles without you adding to them. Play nice. She’s doing this because I need her help. And when I’m done, I’m helping her find a cure for the plague, so her family doesn’t die. I’ll shatter you if you even think of doing anything stupid, got it? She needs your help and so do I, unless you’re no better than that thing killing women.”

  My mouth dropped open at Amber’s burst of temper. When she returned the moonstone, it’s hostility had dimmed to something else—curiosity? Annoyance? I couldn’t tell.

  “I can’t believe you did that.”

  “Someone had to. It was obvious you were going to let it walk all over you.”

  “Isn’t that going too far?” I said, glaring at the witch.

  “It’s the truth.” Amber tapped her temple. “I see things better than you do.”

  “Witches,” I muttered. I think the moonstone agreed.

  Maybe it was the book or maybe it was Amber, but it didn’t give me any problems when I charged it with electricity—and trusted it with our lives.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The Venetian didn’t have a large casino, which surprised me. To my horror, Amber pulled out several thousand in cash, shoved half of it at me, and took me down the street to Casino Royale. There, she taught me the basics of gambling. Two hours later, with my head spinning, we went back to our hotel to hunt our prey.

  “The Venetian’s casino is one of the smallest on the Strip,” Amber said, linking arms with me as she guided me to one of the tables. “We’ll start at the regular tables. We’ll do Gai Pow first. My information says that’s where he initiates contact. He should then talk us into some high stakes game
s.”

  I nodded.

  It didn’t take long for our target to make an appearance. He was dressed in a clean-cut suit in classic black, which gave him the appearance of subtle wealth. With a Rolex on his left wrist and golden cuff links, he played the part of a sophisticate well. With a Hollywood-worthy smile, I understood why so many women had fallen prey to him.

  On the surface, he played the part of a good-looking gentleman quite well. If I hadn’t been aware of his murderous ways, I might’ve fallen prey to him, too. The thought chilled me. When he approached us, I ducked my head a little, staring at the cards in my hand, deciding how best to play them. On an impulse, I bet high, placed my cards on the table, and watched the dealer.

  I lost. I laughed and prepared to lose more of Richard’s money. Amber won, and as the dealer gathered the cards to deal the next hand, our target took the open seat next to Amber. He sat, nodded to the dealer, and exchanged cash for chips. Ten thousand dollars later, he settled in to play, ignoring us—for now.

  The casual way he threw his money away indicated wealth, another trap for the rich, single women he favored.

  We played several hands, most of which I won. Amber’s luck waned, but she grinned at me—and at our prey when his luck proved no better than hers.

  “One of these days, I’ll get the hang of this game,” the man muttered as the dealer claimed his chips yet again. “I guessed I used up all of my luck finding a seat at a table with two very lovely ladies.”

  I smiled at the compliment despite wanting to snort at the cliché.

  Amber also smiled, but she turned a little towards him. “I’m Amber.”

  “Jason.”

  “Pleased to meet you, Jason. At least the house can’t win all of the time, right?” While Amber played our prey, I glared at my cards.

  “Thank God for small blessings,” Jason replied. He bet the maximum. To my disgust, he won. So did I, although I hadn’t been brave enough to play the table’s limit.

  Amber lost and she chuckled as the dealer claimed her chips. “Well, one of us got lucky at least.”

  Amber and Jason settled into light chit chat and I marveled how the witch could effortlessly hold a conversation with someone we intended to kill. I wondered what she saw when she looked at him. If the witch could see the nature of someone’s soul, what did a monster’s look like?

  A nudge from Amber woke me from the steady rhythm of placing bets and playing hands. “Hey, want to go get a drink after this hand?”

  “Sure.”

  “Who is your friend, Amber? Do introduce us,” Jason said, leaning back in his seat a little to stare at me.

  I flashed him my best Hollywood smile, hating myself as I thrust my hand out. “Nicole Thomas.”

  Instead of shaking my hand, he brought it to his lips and kissed it. A tingling sensation spread from where he touched me and I suppressed the urge to yank my hand away from him. “I’m charmed. Do let me buy you both drinks, ladies. It’d be my honor.”

  “Why thank you, Jason.” Amber rose from her seat, and to my relief, Jason let me go.

  I let Amber and Jason lead the way, unable to take my eyes off our prey. The tingling sensation remained. I shook my head and tried to ignore it.

  ~Magic,~ the book whispered to me. Swallowing back my squeak of surprise, I couldn’t help but stare in the direction of the elevators leading to the penthouse suite. Unable to say anything in reply, I hurried to catch up with Amber, linking my arm with hers. ~Sorcerer.~

  I fought my alarm; if he used magic on me, just from the brief time he had kissed the back of my hand, what was he doing to Amber? She held his hand as we made our way across the casino to the Canal Shoppes, where he guided us to one of the many Venice-themed cafes.

  ~Nothing good,~ the book warned me. ~She may turn against you without realizing it.~

  Without any practical knowledge on what a sorcerer did, I accepted the book’s words as fact. I couldn’t deny the sensation creeping up my arm, though I didn’t know what I could do about it. If the book was right, however, dealing with Jason would fall to me. I hoped the compact revolver strapped to my thigh would be enough to stop whatever Jason planned to do with Amber.

  ~She’s a witch. The sorcerer will steal her power and strength and make it his own. He’s a thief. To him, you are a nuisance, rather than a meal.~ Heat from the book’s anger seared through my head. ~He can’t sense what you are yet. But Amber—he steals her will and her desire to fight back against him.~

  I shuddered at how happy Amber looked.

  If the book was right, and I had no reason to doubt it, the joyful expressions of the women murdered made sense. Under his control, they wanted him to do with them as he pleased. Maybe I jumped to conclusions, but Amber’s smile reminded me of them, far too much for my comfort. But how could I put an end to Jason’s influence without having Amber turn on me?

  Bitterness swept through me. Amber was supposed to be the heroine and I was supposed to be the bait. With the roles reversed, I didn’t know what to do. Continuing with the plan seemed unwise. The stones wouldn’t target Amber if she targeted me. They’d subdue Jason and Jason alone, which left me facing off with Amber if his control held onto her despite his unconsciousness. While I could draw electricity from the hotel, the Inquisition might notice, which would get me killed and might not save Amber in the process.

  If I had to fight Amber, I didn’t know who would win.

  ~She’s weakened by his touch. Taking her magic. Thief. Easy prey. Sorcerer stronger. Kill.~

  “You’re quiet, Nicole. Is something bothering you?” Jason stared at me, still holding hands with Amber. My seat, directly across from him, kept him from touching me. Amber had opted for the seat beside him.

  “Oh, it’s nothing, Jason,” I replied, once again using my best smile on him. “It’s nice having a few days off work.”

  “What do you do?”

  “I’m an actress,” I replied, grinning a little at his startled expression. “In a few days, I go back to Hollywood to sign a contract. I took advantage of the time off to come have some fun here with Amber.”

  “Well, Vegas is definitely the right place for that,” Jason replied, taking a sip of his coffee. Like him, I’d chosen a non-alcoholic beverage. Amber’s cocktail was mostly gone and a flush painted her cheeks red. I wasn’t sure if it was from the alcohol or whatever Jason was doing to her.

  “Amber?” It took me reaching across the table and touching her arm to catch her attention. “Once we’re done here, I need to go to our room to pick something up. Come with me?”

  I didn’t like her glazed expression and I wasn’t sure she knew what she was agreeing to when she nodded her consent. Jason looked troubled.

  “You’re welcome to tag along,” I offered along with a I-couldn’t-care-less shrug. “It won’t take me but a minute.”

  The moonstone was my main hope. I hoped my trust wasn’t misguided and it really did hate monsters like Jason more than wizards like me.

  “How does a trip to the high stakes table after sound to you ladies?”

  “I don’t mind,” I replied.

  Amber made a sound, which meant consent to Jason, judging from his smile. If she’d spoken a word, it’d been lost in semi-incoherent mumblings.

  As promised, Jason picked up the bill for our drinks. Guiding him to the elevator, I hit the button for the top floor, which startled our prey—no, my prey—a little. I wanted to snort my disgust at him, but I pretended I didn’t notice. I slipped the room’s card key out of Amber’s pocket, and hurried down the hall, pausing at the double doors to wait for Jason and Amber to catch up.

  “Home sweet home,” I murmured, throwing open the door. Wary of leaving Jason at my back, I hurried across the room, snatching up the moonstone as I went. Its warmth flooded me, erasing the numbness from Jason’s touch. When I turned to face the doorway, Jason closed the door with his foot before helping Amber to the nearest armchair. The witch slumped down, her eyes closed />
  Fear waged war against my rage. Had my retrieving the stone been long enough for him to kill her?

  ~Kill him!~ The book’s anger ignited something within me and it bolstered me. The revolver against my thigh didn’t feel big enough to for my fury.

  I was supposed to be the bait. I was the one who was supposed to have been hurt—not Amber.

  “Oh, my. I forgot she’s such a lightweight,” I lied, clucking my tongue a little at Amber. A possessive part of me declared Amber was my witch, though I didn’t know why. It unsettled me. Amber wasn’t mine, though I didn’t want anything bad to happen to her.

  “It happens,” Jason said in a soothing voice, circling the armchair to come closer. “While we wait for her to sleep it off, why don’t we get to know each other a little better?”

  Divide and conquer; his strategy was sound, I had to give him that much credit. But I wasn’t about to fall prey to him—and that meant not letting him touch me. “Sit, please. Is there anything I can get you to drink? A cup of tea? Water? I can call room service, if you’d like.”

  “Water would be lovely, thank you.” To my relief, Jason sat down on the couch close to Amber, leaving me plenty of space to avoid him without acting like I was wary of his touch. I brought him back a glass of water, setting it on the coffee table, hiding the moonstone clutched in my other hand behind my back.

  ~Kill!~ the book shrieked in my head.

  The moonstone warmed, and to my surprise, I sensed agreement. It didn’t speak, but jolting surges of power lanced up my arm.

  “Tell me something, Jason,” I murmured, circling the armchair to drape my arms around Amber. Stroking her throat with my fingers, I applied pressure until I felt her pulse. Relief flooded me. Asleep, then. Not dead.

  I hadn’t failed her.

  “A question at last! What do you want to know, Nicole?”

  “Why did you kill those women?”

  Jason sucked in a breath, his eyes widening from surprise. After a stunned moment, he surged to his feet, his handsome expression twisting into something bestial. He lunged for me. Lurching backwards, I thrust out my hand and the moonstone at him. As I panicked, I dropped the sphere.