Winter Wolf

by RJ Blain

  The moonstone hovered in the air, its rainbow hues reflecting the light in the room. Sparks of blue energy skittered over the surface, while red and blue flames burst into existence. Jason froze in place, his gaze locked on the jewel.

  “One chance, Jason. Talk.”

  ~Kill him!~ the book shrieked again. All I felt from the moonstone was its approval.

  “I…I was hired,” Jason stammered, the color draining from his face. “I must harvest their life force and return to him.”

  “Why? For what price?”

  “Not my business to ask. Probably planning on a big spell he needs energy for. He paid me twenty million up front.” The words escaped his lips, as if he struggled against his need to answer me. “In cash. Took more from the girls.”

  “How much did you steal from them?”

  Jason trembled, and when he spoke, his voice was a cracked whisper. “A million.”

  “How many women have you killed?”

  “Twenty.”

  I sucked in a breath. That was a much higher number than I expected—what had happened to the bodies of the other women? Uncertain of how long I could hold him, I asked, “Who hired you?”

  “Don’t know his name.”

  “Where can I find him?”

  Jason’s skin took on a ghastly green tone. “He’ll kill me.”

  “If you don’t answer me, I’m going to kill you,” I snarled.

  “You can find him in Los Angeles, there’s a cafe. Popular among the elite.”

  “That only describes half of the cafes in town.” I narrowed my eyes, staring at my prey. “Surely you can offer me something better than that. You could mean a chain coffee shop for all I know.”

  “I’m sworn, I can’t. I can’t!” Jason’s eyes bulged as the moonstone floated closer to him. I hadn’t asked it to, but I wasn’t about to stop it, either.

  “What did you do to Amber?”

  “Nothing! I didn’t do anything to her. It was the alcohol.”

  “You’re a liar, sorcerer.” I straightened, resting my hands on Amber’s shoulders. I could feel something lurking in her, something dark and cold and smothering, suppressing all of Ambers’s fire. The moonstone’s glow brightened and it crackled with electricity. “I feel it writhing within her.”

  ~Kill,~ the book pleaded. ~Kill while we can.~

  ~Yes,~ a new voice, neither feminine or masculine, agreed. I recognized the presence as the moonstone’s, cold and unyielding.

  “A street name, Jason. What street is the cafe on?”

  Jason shuddered, his gaze still fixed on the floating moonstone. “East 7th.”

  Amber made a pained noise and my temper flared. With it, the fire from the moonstone flashed and I could feel the stone drawing power out of me to fuel its magic. Jason surged to his feet, lunging at me with outstretched hands. Before I could react, blinding light flashed from the moonstone. My vision darkened as the stone stole more energy from me. Jason jerked and twitched, falling over the coffee table. He burned and the heat washed over me, sapping my strength. I slumped against the armchair and slid down to the floor, struggling to draw a breath.

  I heard Jason cry out before everything went still and silent.

  ~~*~~

  Someone shook me, holding onto my shoulders while my head rolled side to side. It hurt, but I couldn’t find the strength to stop them. Something important nagged at me, but I couldn’t remember exactly what. Something needed my attention; something urgent enough to make me panic as I struggled to make sense of what was going on around me.

  I remembered Amber, Jason, and the moonstone’s rather dramatic display. I lurched upright, and my forehead collided with something hard.

  Amber made a pained noise. My head throbbed in rhythm with my heart and I lifted my arm enough to wave an apology. I tried to say something, but all I managed was a groan.

  “What happened?” she asked, sitting next to me. Our backs rested against the armchair. “And what happened to him? Why can’t I remember anything?”

  I sucked in a breath and the memory of the moonstone stealing power from me returned. I clawed my way upright with the help of the chair, twisting around to stare at the coffee table and couch.

  A fine white powder dusted everything. I swallowed several times. The moonstone had rolled under the coffee table, its colors dull. Staggering over to it, I knelt down to scoop it up. While faint, I felt its warmth.

  ~Gone,~ the book murmured to me. Its voice, my voice, sounded tired. ~Dust.~

  I shuddered at the realization that I knelt in what had once been a person.

  A person I had murdered.

  “Nicole?”

  “He’s dead,” I whispered, starting to shake as the impact of what I had done sank in.

  “Oh my god. What did you do? Or did I do it? Oh god, what happened, Nicole? Nicole? Where’s the body?” If Amber panicked, I feared I’d fall apart, so I quieted her with a wave of my hand, gesturing at the powder littering the couch, table, and floor.

  Sickened, I whispered, “There’s not a whole lot of him left to clean up.”

  “What did you do?” Amber gasped, grabbing my arm and jerking me back from the coffee table.

  “He did something to you. I—he was coming at me. I didn’t do anything to him, I swear.”

  “The trap. The moonstone reacted, didn’t it? I thought it was supposed to stun him, not…”

  I shuddered. “Not cremate him?”

  Amber sat me down, picked up the hotel’s phone, and made a call. She briskly grabbed a towel from the bathroom and rubbed it over the carpet, couch, and table. While her efforts got rid of most of the evidence, the few lasting smears reminded me that I had killed someone.

  “Fire witches can do that when desperate,” Amber said, patting my shoulder.

  Within ten minutes, there was a knock at the door. Amber let in three men wearing suits and judging from the slight bulge under their coats, they were carrying concealed guns. My hand slipped to my revolver and I slid it out of my thigh holster. I shoved the moonstone under me.

  “What happened?” One of the men, middle-aged with a tired look in his eyes, circled my armchair to examine the coffee table and the couch. He spared a glance at me, took notice of my little revolver, and dipped his head in a cordial nod. Then he turned his attention fully on Amber. “Let me guess. You got cornered and lost control.”

  Amber sat in silence, her lips parted slightly. I squirmed a bit and when I drew a deep, calming breath, I smelled cinnamon. I remembered what Amber had said about Fenerec being able to detect lies.

  “There’s no helping it. It’s fortunate you managed to do so without setting off the fire alarms. No harm done,” the man declared. “Get this place cleaned up. You’re expected to report.”

  If Amber reported, they’d catch her in her lies. “She doesn’t know what happened,” I said in a firm tone. “We… thought he might try something, so we set up some traps in the room. He set one off. It worked better than we anticipated. Neither one of us touched him.”

  Every eye in the room focused on me, and I stared down at the floor. “I guess he thought she was the bigger risk, so he… did something to her. I don’t know what, but she fell over and wouldn’t wake up. I was supposed to be the bait so Amber could deal with him, but it didn’t work out that way.”

  “We were informed Amber was playing bodyguard for a Normal,” the man conceded. Inquisitor, I guessed. “Takes guts to get involved with our business, miss. What did he do to her?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. After he knocked her out, he went for me, and I guess that set off the trap. It…” I let my voice trail off and sniffled a little. “It did that to him.”

  “I trust the traps are long gone now, Amber?”

  She swallowed. “I’m not sure. The main one has been, but…”

  “Think you can repeat that trick?” the Inquisitor asked.

  “I didn’t think it would do that,” Amber whispered. “It was supposed to
buy me enough time to deal with him, not kill him.”

  “I’ll let Mr. O’Reilly know. Still, you’ll need to report in. Ladies, we’ll send someone up to finish the cleanup within the next few hours. Please call us if anything comes up. If anyone asks, I suggest you say you spilled something harmless—like powdered sugar.” With that, the three swept out of the suite, closing the door behind them.

  “That’s it?” I asked, staring at the door in shock.

  “Why did you do that?” Amber hissed at me. “I could have handled them.”

  “One of them was a Fenerec.”

  Her eyes widened. “I didn’t… how did you know?”

  I tapped the tip of my nose. “I thought you could recognize them on sight.” When Amber didn’t reply, I frowned. “Anyway, ever since Scott’s death, my nose has been a little more sensitive than normal. One of them smelled like cinnamon.”

  “Normally, I can. I’m more than a little worn out right now. As for the Fenerec, cinnamon?”

  “Cinnamon. Fenerec smell like spice. Cinnamon and something else. I couldn’t tell which one of them was the werewolf, though. I was afraid he’d catch you if you lied.”

  Amber sighed and she smiled at me. “You did well.”

  “The sorcerer said his contact goes to a cafe on East 7th.” Getting to my feet, I checked the other spheres. Like the moonstone, they were dulled and inert. Neither one of them tried to speak to me as the moonstone had done. Shivering, I packed them away. “I need to go back to Los Angeles.”

  Even if I went back home, how was I going to find the right cafe? For all I knew, there could be hundreds of them on 7th.

  “We need to go back to Los Angeles,” Amber corrected.

  “He said he had killed twenty women and was harvesting their life force for someone who could be found at a cafe on East 7th. It’s not just some random guy killing random women…” I frowned, trying to figure out how a sorcerer harvested life from someone—and what sort of magic could be fueled with such foul power.

  “Well, he’s not going to be making that meeting now. Leave it be, Nicole. We can’t chase after the buyer. I’ll text the information to my boss. We have more important things to worry about, like the plague. If whoever-he-is hires another sorcerer, the Inquisition will find him. They haven’t found a cure for the plague yet. And frankly, I think you’re our best and only hope to do it. It’s not easy walking away, but we don’t have a choice. We… were very lucky they didn’t force us to answer a lot more questions. Let’s get away while we can.”

  Why had the Inquisitors left, satisfied with my response? It didn’t make sense to me; someone was dead, turned to ash, and they accepted the feeble excuse of a trap for his murder?

  I deserved far worse than a few questions for taking someone’s life.

  ~He would have killed you and Amber,~ the book whispered.

  I wanted to tell it to shut up, but I remained silent.

  ~You did well. Perhaps… you might ask the moonstone about the plague. It’s a stone of healing, after all. And it’s very, very old. And you might ask your witch for help. She sees things in a different way.~

  I blinked, reaching down to retrieve the gemstone sphere. “Amber, I have a question.”

  “What?”

  “If I told you I could talk to inanimate objects, would you believe me?”

  The witch laughed. “You demonstrated stones have souls of sorts, so why not? It’s a little unsettling, I’ll admit. But I would believe you.”

  “You won’t think I’m crazy?”

  “Nicole, you’re a wizard. Of course you’re crazy.”

  I glared at Amber and she grinned back at me, unrepentant.

  “Something told me the moonstone might know something about the plague, because it’s a healing stone, and it’s very old. But… it thinks I might want to ask you for your help. You, apparently, see things differently.” I watched Amber for her reaction.

  With a thoughtful expression, Amber paced around the room. “Well, I am a fire witch. We see auras. Life has colors that… radiate from someone.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “How do you explain what the color blue looks like to someone who is blind?” Amber asked, shrugging helplessly. “I don’t know how to explain it. I just see things. How people are. How they could be. Mostly, though, I get a feel for the type of person they have been and are likely to be in the near future.”

  “That’s rather vague.” I rubbed my temples, considering the moonstone and what good Amber’s vision could do to help with the plague. Without any other options, I held out the moonstone to her. “So, how do you describe the color blue to someone who is blind?”

  With a faint smile, Amber took the moonstone from me, and as I had done so many times before, she rolled it between her hands. “I tell them it is the color of the cold.”

  While the moonstone reflected the colors of the rainbow, its blue showed through more than any other hue. I watched the sphere as it rolled and decided Amber was right. “Cold, huh?”

  “It’s the closest I’ve ever gotten to an answer. Fire witches are supposed to be lights in the dark, but we can’t help the blind.” She turned to face the window, lifting the moonstone so she could peer into its depths. “I don’t know what you think I’m supposed to see, Nicole. There’s something about it, but stones were never my strength. Until I met you, I never thought they could be anything more than pretty rocks.”

  When she handed me the moonstone back, I felt something from it, and it took me a moment to recognize the emotion as regret. “Nothing at all?”

  “It feels strange. Not bad, but different. I’ve never seen anything like it before.”

  I cupped the sphere in my hands and its warmth seeped into me. “I just wish I knew what to do, Amber.”

  “Don’t we all. We’ll figure something out, one way or another. I do know one thing, though. If we’re going to hunt for a cure to the plague, we need someone to experiment on and that means returning to Los Angeles. We can’t do anything else here. Let’s pack up and hit the road.”

  I set the moonstone on the coffee table, and without a word, headed to the bedroom to get changed.

  Chapter Nineteen

  While Richard had taken my original notes about the plague with him, the Fenerec Alpha had left behind a slim folder containing photocopies. I shoved it and a notepad into my messenger bag, along with the book, the debens, and my gemstones. I packed my silver mirror in my suitcase.

  Hopefully by the time we made it back to Los Angeles, I’d have a plan—one better than running around the city hunting for a sick Fenerec to experiment on. While Alex was the perfect candidate, neither one of us wanted to face his brother if anything went wrong. Amber waited by the door, tapping her foot as I double checked my things.

  “Have your California permit?” she asked as I shrugged on my shoulder holster.

  “Arizona’s and California’s are in my wallet.”

  She nodded in approval. “Can we go then?”

  “I guess we don’t need to check out, do we?” After checking the room for the third time to make certain I left nothing behind, I dragged my luggage to the door.

  “Not our room, not our problem. Ready? Oh, Richard texted me that your two dogs will be with your agent this evening. We can pick them up tomorrow.”

  I nodded and tried to imagine the two dogs fitting in Amber’s sports car. I followed the witch down to the parking garage. There wasn’t much of a trunk, so my luggage and messenger bag were stowed on the backseat for the trip. She kept the top of the convertible closed, giving me a chance to sort through the file Richard had left behind.

  No matter how many times I flipped through the pages, I didn’t find anything new or some spark of inspiration to help me figure out how to cure the plague.

  “Where are we going to find a volunteer to experiment on?” I asked, pulling out my notepad and pen. Without anything to write, I ended up chewing on the cap while waiting for Amber to rep
ly.

  She took her time, driving to the outskirts of Las Vegas before glancing at me. “The volunteer won’t know you’re experimenting on him or her. Fenerec do not take kindly to that sort of thing. I have a few ideas, though.”

  “That’s entirely unhelpful, Amber.”

  “It is what it is. You can’t let anyone else know what you are. Richard and Alex are safe enough, but others? They’ll turn you into the Inquisition to garner good favor. The Los Angeles pack is beholden to the Inquisition. That makes you a top rated enemy. They can’t know. You’ll hide behind me while I do witchy things.”

  “Witchy things,” I echoed weakly.

  “Yes. An Inquisitor doing witchy things to help the Fenerec survive is permissible. Many of them know me, too. They won’t have any reason to question you, who is with me.”

  “I knew this wasn’t going to be easy, but you are making this even more difficult than it needs to be,” I muttered. “I try to avoid using any magic where someone might notice. Are you sure you’ll be able to hide what I’m doing?”

  “Well, do you know of a Fenerec who would cooperate without spilling your secrets?”

  “I wish we could ask Alex,” I grumbled, chomping on the pen cap in frustration.

  Amber snorted. “Richard would kill us if our experimentations killed his brother.”

  The truth hurt, but I said it anyway, “He’s already dying.”

  “I know,” the witch whispered, “but that doesn’t mean Richard will allow us to experiment on him in the slim chance we can learn something.”

  “So how do we find a volunteer?”

  “We could ask one of the young Fenerec. They’re at most risk and have everything to lose and gain by helping me search for a cure. They know they’re dying. Those three cubs proved it. They all underwent the ritual on the same night.” Amber drew a long breath and sighed. “They were really good friends.”

  “There were four boys in the photo of them. Who was the fourth?” I asked.

  Amber shook her head and didn’t speak for a long time. When she did, her voice trembled. “Our volunteer. Six months after they became Fenerec, Aiden was brought into the pack. He was on my watch list, although a lower priority than the other three. He’s not a bad kid. He’s about as submissive as Fenerec get. I’m worried about him.”