by RJ Blain
“You know him, don’t you?”
“I do.”
When she didn’t elaborate, I kept my mouth shut and stared out of the window at the desert. Even with a volunteer, what could I do to stop the disease killing the Fenerec? My science knowledge began and ended with high school biology and tinkering with cells underneath a microscope. I had skipped chemistry in favor of environmental sciences. My wizardry wasn’t much better; the book knew everything, and I did what it suggested more often than not.
While I managed to survive, I wasn’t skilled. Not in the way I needed to be in order to save an entire species from extinction. I felt helpless not knowing what to do or how to go about doing it. My goal was obvious, but I was blind in terms on how to get there.
Time wasn’t on my side. It wasn’t on Richard’s or Alex’s side either, and it wasn’t on my family’s side. But time wasn’t variable, and for all I was a wizard, it was an absolute I could not change. The taboo of experiencing the past was as close as I could ever get to changing the future.
I considered my father’s thoughts regarding the Winter Wolf. I suspected the Winter Wolf’s miraculous cure had happened far before my time—long before modern medicine and science.
That left magic. But how had he done it? Why?
Maybe we weren’t very different. Desperation could make people find their boundaries or surpass them. Before I had learned my family was dying from the plague, I never would have ventured into a nest of Inquisitors. I never would have partnered up with Amber.
I never would have called my father, either.
Without knowing anything concrete about the Winter Wolf, I couldn’t scry into the past and learn how he had done it. Calling my father again wouldn’t do me any good; if he had known anything, he would’ve told me—at least, I thought he would. Too much relied on his knowledge for him to withhold information.
“You’re going to hurt yourself if you keep thinking that hard,” Amber said, her tone amused.
I glared at the witch. “I was trying to figure out what drove the Winter Wolf into finding a cure for the Ferenec. Was he a Fenerec trying to save himself? A True-born? Was he even a wolf at all?”
“Following in the footsteps of the past?”
“I guess. My father said it’s been done before, but how? I understand the why.”
“He probably was watching his friends, family, and pack die.”
“Just like us,” I said, unable to keep the bitterness out of my voice.
“Just like us.”
“That doesn’t help me at all,” I muttered. “If the Winter Wolf lived long before modern medicine, why hasn’t the Inquisition been able to use science to find a cure?”
Amber made a rude noise. “The Inquisition isn’t exactly crawling with doctors, Nicole. I don’t think they dare bring in the true experts. It’s too much of an exposure risk. The Inquisition doesn’t really make many allowances for medical facilities. Witches don’t get sick often, Fenerec rarely do—at least until now—and they’re too busy trying to kill rogues, not save them. The Inquisition is of no use. We’re on our own. And if we don’t play by their rules, we’re as dead as the Fenerec. Taking our volunteer is going to be risky enough without bringing a Normal on board.”
“Who said we needed to let him know why we’re asking questions?” I chuckled a little at the idea forming in my head. “We’re young. We could claim we’re considering being disease research doctors. So we ask what is involved, the type of things we need to learn, and prerequisites for that level of education. We then find out what we need to know. We could say we’re interested in African diseases in particular.”
Amber looked puzzled for a moment, glancing at me as she adjusted her rear view mirror. “You mean Ebola.”
“Exactly. Richard’s notes said the disease was very similar in styling to Ebola. If we can access information on that disease, we might find a cure for ours.”
“But there is no cure for Ebola.”
“There isn’t a vaccine either, though I’ve heard there are some in developmental stages.” I looked through the notes Richard had left for me. “If that’s so, maybe we can steal it for the Fenerec.”
“That’s insane. If anyone found out we stole it, we’d be screwed. By the Normals and by the Inquisition.”
I snorted. “Isn’t the first time I’ve stolen something.”
“Nicole!”
“What? You don’t think debens grow on trees, do you? I stole them from a museum. They had extra.”
“You stole them from a museum.”
I bit my lip so I wouldn’t grin. “There was a museum in D.C. that had a lovely exhibit of life in Ancient Egypt. They had spares.”
“You’re unbelievable.”
“What? I needed them! They were just showing them off under a display case with others just like them.” I giggled. “It was fun watching the security people try to figure out how the museum had been robbed. For some reason, their cameras didn’t see a thing.”
“I hope for the sake of the world that you decide against pursuing bank robbery as a viable career choice.”
Snorting from laughter, I settled into the leather seat, stretching out my legs as much as I could in the car. “I like earning what I make, thank you very much.”
Robbing banks hadn’t occurred to me, but Amber did have a point. With my powers, I doubted the electronics of a bank would pose a problem for me. The museum had been easy enough to rob. “And anyway, I left them a hundred thousand in cash for the debens.”
“You what?”
“I gave them money for the debens.”
“You’re unbelievable.”
“But Amber, you’ve said that already.” I slapped the folder against the dashboard. “Not that my ill-gotten gains are doing us any good right now. Unless I find someone related to the Winter Wolf, I can’t figure out how he did it. Blood works best.”
“How would you figure out how he did it?”
I shivered a little, fighting to ignore the memories of Scott’s death. “The past, Amber. I’d visit the past for a little while.”
“But you can’t do that, Nicole! It can’t be done. It’s impossible. No one…” Amber paled several shades. “It’s suicide.”
“It’s unpleasant.” I twisted around to glower at my bag in the back seat. The book kept quiet. “Why do you think it’s suicide?”
“It’s never been done!”
“I’m pretty sure being a wizard lets me break the rules. And anyway, I’ve already done it once, so it can be done. But I need blood. I don’t think I can manage it any other way. So it pretty much is impossible.” Tapping the folder against the dash a few more times, I stared out the window and tried to think of what I could do—what we could do—to save the Fenerec. “And if it meant a chance at saving them, I would do it if I could.”
“I didn’t have you pegged as the family type. No pictures in your apartment, nothing indicating that you even have a family.”
“Nicole Thomas doesn’t have a family,” I replied with a shrug. “Nicolina Desmond, however, does. And she won’t, unless we do something.”
“Desperate times call for desperate measures?”
“I might not get along with them, and they may not be a good family, but they’re mine. I’m not going to just let them die, not without trying to do something about it.”
Amber made a pleased sound. “I knew there was something I liked about you.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
She didn’t answer me.
~~*~~
Amber took me to her condo on the outskirts of Hollywood. I whistled at the marble floors and gold leafing of the lobby. “They must pay you really well.”
“Richard takes care of those who help him,” was all the witch said as she guided me to the elevators. It shouldn’t have surprised me, but it did. Just how wealthy were the Murphy brothers? I understood they had to be rich enough to afford a place like the Venetian, but how much were the
y paying Amber, giving her enough wealth to live in such a nice condominium complex? Instead of asking, I kept my mouth shut and followed quietly along.
Her condo wasn’t large, but comfortable. Reds, yellows, and oranges dominated her decor, from the couch to the rug spread out over the cherry floors. At her welcoming gesture, I flopped down on the couch and wiggled in its luxurious embrace. “I might have to steal your couch, Amber.”
“You may visit my couch, but you may not take it with you,” Amber said, grinning at me. “I lugged that thing through four different moves. I’m not giving it up!”
“So what’s our next move?” I asked, emptying my messenger bag out on the table.
“I need to talk to Aiden. He’ll help us—probably. That leaves figuring out how real doctors approach finding cures for diseases, or a vaccination. Something.” Amber rubbed her temples. “I have a laptop if you want to start looking into that.”
“I should call Dominic. My phone’s busted. He’s probably fuming by now.”
Amber nodded and went into her kitchen, where she opened a drawer. A few moments later, she returned with a cell phone in hand. “This is my spare. It’s a secure phone. It belongs to the Inquisition and they record everything, so watch what you say. Feel free to use it until yours is replaced.”
“Not really secure if they’re recording everything,” I muttered, accepting the phone.
“At least you know who is listening, right?”
“Small comfort.” I dialed Dominic’s number and braced myself for a conversation I wouldn’t enjoy.
“Dominic speaking,” my agent said, sounding tired.
“Hey, it’s Nicole. I just got back in town. My cell broke. I’m sorry I didn’t call you earlier. There was a family emergency, and then I went out with a friend for a few days.” I waited, but Dominic didn’t say anything. “Have I missed anything important?”
“No,” my agent replied, and then I heard him sigh. “We’re still negotiating the contract, which has been delayed because of the rebuild of the set. I should have something for you soon. Is everything okay?”
“A little stressful, but otherwise fine. I’ll be staying at my friend’s place for a few days before heading home. Did someone bring the dogs over? I hope you don’t mind watching them for the night?”
“They’ll be here in about half an hour. One of my security guards agreed keep an eye on them. When they aren’t penned in my yard, they’ll be at his place. He is better with dogs than I am.”
I chuckled. Dominic, like many of the well-to-do, had a fiendishly expensive home, which was fenced with a fifteen foot stone wall. While it wouldn’t surprise me if Rocky or Silver could jump that high if they wanted to, I gave my agent credit; they’d have to be determined to get out of his yard. “Can I pick them up tomorrow, then?”
“I could pen you in for dinner, if that’s okay with you.”
“If I’m paying this time, you’re getting fast food and you’ll like it,” I warned. “Five?”
“Sounds good. Do you need me to pick you up?”
“I’ll have my friend drop me off at your place,” I replied.
“At five, then.” Dominic hung up. I frowned at the phone.
“Did you agent just ask you on a date?” Amber asked, incredulous.
“A date? With Dominic? Hah, I don’t think so. He’s usually so busy that he’ll take clients out to a meal to talk. He’s the workaholic type. He probably wants to talk about the contract negotiations, knowing him. You don’t mind dropping me off, do you?”
“I don’t mind. Make yourself at home, and I’ll go see if I can convince Aiden to come join us for a bit. Feel free to poke around the condo, though I’m afraid the fridge is pretty barren.”
After setting me up with her laptop, Amber left. I went to work, wondering if what I’d be able to learn on the internet would give me some clue on how to cure the Fenerec.
~~*~~
After two hours of searching the internet, I learned one important thing: if I wanted to cure the Fenerec, I needed to find a survivor. Only a survivor would have the antibodies to battle against the illness. The reason behind it didn’t matter too much to me; I’d find out soon enough if a wizard’s reputation lived up to the hype.
It also explained why the Inquisition’s doctors were at a loss. Without antibodies, the Fenerec couldn’t fight the disease. It left me with another option: there were Fenerec immune to the illness, although no one knew why.
I almost wished the Fenerec did suffer from Ebolavirus Zaire. It had a treatment. People survived.
The Fenerec either never got sick, or they died. But even if I found out why some were immune, I’d have to figure out a way to make use of that knowledge. Had these Fenerec somehow been born with antibodies while their brethren fell to the illness? Where could I begin finding out?
I pushed Amber’s laptop across the coffee table so I wouldn’t slam the case closed in frustration. Without knowledge, power was useless—worse than useless.
~You can see,~ the book said and I heard hesitancy in its voice.
“I can see what?” I demanded, reaching into my bag to pull the book out. I set it next to the laptop. “Do you have an idea?”
~You can see the disease, if you choose. So could Amber, if she realized she could. Any powerful fire witch can do so.~
“Need I remind you that I am not a fire witch?”
~You’re a wizard. You can do everything a witch can and more. Unlike them, however, your sight does not come with instinct, but with learning and practice. Scrying into the past uses the same skills. You’re just looking for something else. You already sense the flow of electricity in things, do you not?~
The book knew I did, so I kept quiet, staring at the blue leather. When it didn’t speak, I asked, “So what does that have to do with anything?”
~All living things have auras. Signatures. Those are what fire witches sense. In a way, you’re not so different from them. You sense electricity with ease, don’t you? If you can learn to sense people in the same way you do electricity, then you can begin to sense smaller things. Very tiny things.~
“Like the disease?”
~Like the disease. If you get good enough at it, you can see what Is different in someone who is sick versus someone who is not. Which is what you want, is it not?~
“It can’t be that easy,” I muttered, pulling Amber’s laptop back to me so I could once again continue my search. Vaccinations in humans often gave antibodies to those who did not have them, so that illnesses couldn’t thrive. “I’m pretty sure once someone is sick that you can’t vaccinate them.”
~Perhaps the Winter Wolf could see these things and found a cure using what he learned.~
“Is that possible?” I frowned, considered all of the information I had read, and shook my head. “Seeing is different than making a disease just disappear.”
~Winter is the season of change,~ the book said. It hesitated, and I waited for it in silence. ~Wizards are the embodiment of change.~
“If I don’t like the rules, change them?” My voice was bitter.
~Desperation is a dangerous weapon in the hands of a wizard. If you believe you can, you will.~
The book’s words hurt, but I couldn’t refute them. It was right. I didn’t believe I could do anything. How could I? All I saw when I thought of the Fenerec and the plague was death. Wizards weren’t the embodiment of change, unless change meant charbroiled, fried, or electrocuted. I was growing confident in my ability to destroy things—Jason had been reduced to a pile of ash because of me and my work with the moonstone.
“I know.” Acknowledging the book pained me almost as much as the realization of the truth.
~Think about it and remember this: you are not the first. If someone else can do it, so can you. You are equal to the challenge and the Winter Wolf, no matter what you might believe.~
I wrinkled my nose and leveled a glare at the leather tome. “And how would you know that?”
~I chose you. Of course you’re his equal.~
The book’s confidence stunned me into silence.
~~*~~
When Amber returned, she was alone. I looked up from the laptop, weary from hours of staring at the screen. With a heavy sigh, she flopped onto the couch beside me.
“Aiden died yesterday, along with four others,” she said in a dull, tired voice.
I drew a deep breath. “I’m sorry.”
“So am I. I spoke with the L.A. Alpha, and… he believes most of his pack will die during the next full moon. They’re too weak to resist the need to change.” Amber choked up. Tears burned in my eyes.
“When is the next full moon?”
“Four days from now. In two days, the youngest with weakest control will start joining with their wolves. The oldest might last until the moon rises.” I heard the tears in Amber’s voice, so I kept my eyes closed. I wasn’t ready to cry—not yet—but my throat tightened as realization settled in.
In two days, my sister would die—if she wasn’t dead already. In four days, my entire family would be gone.
We weren’t running out of time, it was already gone.
I didn’t have to look for a Fenerec survivor. I knew one. If I wanted to stop the virus, I needed to face him in person, to hell with the consequences. I didn’t know if Richard had lived through the plague before, and if Alex verged on death, the Alpha would be volatile at best. “I need to call my father,” I said, sitting up straight. I picked up Amber’s cell and dialed.
“The Desmond residence,” my father said.
“We need to meet.”
“It’s a little late for that, Ms. Thomas.”
“If you want your daughter to live, you’ll come to Los Angeles.” The easiest way to avoid arguing with my father was to hang up, so I did.
I turned to Amber. She wiped the tears off of her cheek and lifted her chin, as though she challenged me to mock her for crying.