by Lib Starling
Not my place, and not within my powers.
She turned to look at Alexander, who had gone still and cautious, responding to Katrina’s sudden misgivings. He held her eye for a long moment, questioning, his wolf sniffing warily about her heart and mind.
Maybe it is within my powers now—now that I have a familiar to magnify my strength.
Katrina reached to touch the Powers, taking Alexander with her, tugging his wild-self closer to the great flow of Earth that ran just below them, and closer still, until their unseen hands hovered over its thick, coursing flow. Even without touching Earth, its force seemed to leap up and ripple through Katrina’s veins, rushing and throbbing within her, stronger than ever before—and more responsive, she could feel. Yes. The bond had worked as well as she’d hoped. She was on an even footing with Scarlett now. She had taken a risky gamble, but thank the Goddess, it had paid off.
I can do it, she told herself, and trembled at the thought of it, the terrible justice she was about to deal from her own hands. I can. All I need is to see inside of Scarlett, to find the place where her magic lives.
Alexander, shuddering at the new sensation of the Power running through him, narrowed his eyes at Katrina. “What?” he asked cautiously. “What are you thinking? I can feel…”
It will work, Katrina decided, and thrilled to the knowledge, even as her heart broke at the sacrifice. Scarlett will fall for the ruse. After all, didn’t all this trouble start because Scarlett wanted a shifter of her own?
Katrina released the Power and stepped into Alexander’s arms. He held her close, and for a while they were silent, reveling in the simple sensations of nearness and warmth.
“Will you swear to be loyal to me?” she asked him, and she was surprised to hear how vulnerable she sounded, how fearful and small.
Alexander drew back, staring down at her in confusion. “What’s going on?” he asked gently. “I can feel this… this energy inside you. I don’t understand it. What are you thinking? What are you planning?”
She gave a small, brittle laugh. “I don’t understand it myself. Not entirely. I just have a… an idea. A hope—and a fear. Promise me you’ll be loyal, no matter what you have to do.”
“You know I will.” Alexander shook his head in wonder. “I can’t do anything else. The spell you laid on me—it won’t let me be anything but loyal to you.”
“I’m going to ask you to do something that might seem strange. Unorthodox.”
“I’ll do it,” he said without hesitation. “Whatever you want.”
“Good,” Katrina said, hoping she meant it. To the east, the sky lightened to pearl-gray, and the horizon began to glow with the first golden-soft tones of dawn.
“Just know that I forgive you,” she added, “in advance.”
.4.
T he sun dropped below the jagged line of the Teton peaks, sending a streak of soft winter light, pale-red and glimmering, to beam down from between the crags. Chase watched as the swath of light glided and pooled on the granite, exaggerating the deep-blue shadows of their clefts and slabs. He could feel the cold outside reach through the glass of his bedroom window. It touched his cheek and forehead with slow, icy fingers.
Another sunset—another day gone. Another day without Roxy at his side. An eternity of days without her stretched before him, endless, bleak, and cold. This empty, meaningless day had been just the first of many.
Chase had moved back into his old room in Alpha House. Now that Alexander was bonded to Katrina, it didn’t seem right to continue living with her in the Airstream. And he certainly couldn’t stay with Roxy. He couldn’t even go back to Salt Lake City, and take up his old life with the construction crew—that satisfying, rough form of freedom. Scarlett could find him in Salt Lake, as she had already proven. God only knew what she might do to him next, though Chase could hardly imagine how things could get any worse. Whatever fresh horror that vengeful witch might invent for him, it would be nothing compared to the agony he suffered now, forever barred from Roxy’s embrace.
He leaned his forehead against the cold window pane and closed his eyes. Katrina had promised him she’d try to undo the terrible spell that sent pain shooting through his body whenever Roxy came near, but so far, Katrina had done… not a damn thing. She had only admonished him to wait until the time was right.
The time is right now, damn it—now! Life without Roxy was no life at all, and Chase felt his soul fading away into oblivion with every passing hour. He had hardly left his bedroom all day, and had passed the time sprawled on his bed, staring blankly up at the ceiling, trying to think of ways to undo this despicable curse and bring Roxy back to his side. But he could think of nothing—nothing at all.
Maybe Katrina has no idea how to undo the curse, either. Maybe her magic is all tapped out. Maybe this will be my life—my existence—forever.
The crunch of tires on gravel carried clearly up to Chase’s second-floor window. He opened his eyes to see Brooke’s little sedan coming down the hill toward Blackmeade Village at a rapid pace. The car skidded to a halt outside Alpha Delta Phi, and then Brooke leaped from the driver’s side almost before the engine was shut off. She slammed her door and ran toward the porch. Even from his window, Chase could see that her face was grim, but the expression was one of determination, not fear, and she moved with an excitement that managed to stir Chase out of his dull misery.
He glanced again at the car, and swallowed the lump in his throat as Roxy emerged from the passenger side, tugging her coat straight and making her way toward Alpha House more slowly than her roommate had done. Roxy glanced up at Chase’s window and saw him there, where he leaned morosely against the glass. Her steps slowed, stopped—and she stuffed her hands in her pockets, gesturing with her red head toward the front door, where he could hear Brooke’s frantic knocking. Clearly, Roxy wanted Chase to go downstairs—to talk to Brooke. And it was just as plain that she had no desire to inflict the cruel pain of her proximity on Chase. She would stay in the yard.
He gazed down at his love, drinking in the sight of the red sunset’s light, warm and glowing on her ivory-pale skin—of her hair, flaming in the dying sun. He told himself that he would gladly face the pain, would walk through the fires of any agony to hold her again—to kiss her, to touch her. But although his soul meant it, he knew his body couldn’t follow through. The physical affliction was too much for him to bear. Like an animal, he would react without thinking, and would separate himself from Roxy. Forever.
He watched her for another moment, then sadly turned away from the window and went downstairs.
The brothers of Alpha Delta Phi were already gathering around Brooke as she came through the front door, unzipping her coat with one hand, unwinding her long scarf with the other. Chase could feel his inner wolf prick up its ears to catch her low but agitated words.
“I found Scarlett. I know exactly where she is. I watched the place all day, and I’m sure of it: she’s been hiding out in a cabin about two miles west of Jackson Hole.”
Chase pushed through the milling shifters. Katrina and Alexander were there, at the inmost ring of the crowd, holding hands as they interrogated Brooke.
“We’ve had brothers out searching the area for weeks,” Alexander said. “Nobody found any trace of her by smell. How did you locate her?”
Brooke rolled her eyes. “I followed her there in my car. Even plain-old-boring humans have certain skills, you know.”
“Tell us,” Chase said.
Brooke shrugged. “It was pure luck, pretty much. I figured Scarlett had to come into town eventually, for food and other supplies. Even you shifters, who can hunt for yourselves, can’t avoid Jackson forever. And I supposed even a witch couldn’t just conjure up cans of soup and toilet paper. I kept visiting all the groceries and convenience stores in town, checking them at all hours of the day and night, and finally, this morning, I saw her coming out of a store. She was bundled up to disguise herself, but she was my roommate for two years, so I
recognized her right away. I made note of the car she was driving and I followed her—at a distance, real casual—out into this little cluster of cabins beyond the town.
“I think the place is an artists’ commune, or something like that. But it’s mostly uninhabited now, in the winter-time. Good thing, too, because I couldn’t follow her up the drive without being noticed. There’s a road that leads in just like the road to Blackmeade—isolated and unpaved. She’d have found me out if I’d turned off the highway.
“But later, in the afternoon, I took Darien out to the place and showed him which direction she’d gone in. He shifted, and went up into the woods to check it out. When he got back, he confirmed my suspicions. He found Scarlett’s car parked outside one of the little cabins—none of the other cabins nearby were occupied—and he even saw her pass across a window. He was certain it was Scarlett, too.”
Brooke paused and pulled a folded piece of notebook paper from the pocket of her coat. “He drew this map,” she said, unfolding the paper, pointing to one of a dozen little squares marked out around the twisting snake of a roadway. “This is her cabin. This is where Scarlett’s been hiding.”
“Where is Darien now?” Chase asked.
“Near the cabin, in his elk form. He’s keeping an eye on Scarlett. He said he’ll find a way to alert us if she leaves, but otherwise, he’s ready to show—if you’re ready, that is. If anybody is ready to confront her now.”
Katrina and Alexander shared a long, steady look. Then, as the rustling, anxious, eager murmurs of the Alpha House brothers crescendoed and Chase’s heart beat loud and hot in his ears, Katrina nodded. “You know what you have to do,” she said quietly to Alexander.
For answer, Alexander stepped away from the crowd and began stripping off his clothes. Brooke blushed and turned her back, but the rest of them, Chase included, stood watching in expectant silence. A current of tight energy ran through the shifters, leaping from man to man. It thrilled along Chase’s skin and sent a quiver of eagerness racing up his spine. His wolf clamored to be set free, to run—to hunt. To fight! The time had come, Chase knew—all of them knew. Scarlett’s hour was at hand.
With a percussive thump, Alexander shifted. Brooke turned around again, and gasped at the sight of the huge, blue-eyed wolf, his hackling fur like snow on the mountain crags.
Katrina sank to her knees beside the wolf. She stroked the thick ruff at his neck. “You know where to go.”
The wolf nodded its head, once.
“Then go quickly. And do what must be done. Don’t hold back for my sake.”
She stood and opened the door. Alexander’s wolf crossed the threshold in one restless leap, then bounded down the porch steps. Chase watched him speed across the yard—watched Roxy raise her hand in farewell. Then Roxy turned, with the sunset still coloring her bright hair, and stared after Alexander as he loped through the sage fields, snow flying from beneath his paws and drifting in a spray of sparkling ice behind him. In moments, the white wolf was over the crest of the nearest hill and lost to view.
Roxy caught Chase’s eye as she turned back toward the house. The regret in her eyes stabbed at him. His heart turned sick with loss.
“I have to watch Alexander,” Katrina said. “I have to see what he sees.”
“Tell us what you need,” Jack said, stepping forward, pounding his fist into his palm. “We’re ready to take this witch down.”
Katrina crossed to the coffee table and swept the litter of text books, beer cans, and dirty plates aside. “A wide, shallow bowl,” she said. “Fill it with water.”
While Brooke went to the kitchen to help Jack find just the right kind of bowl, Chase sank down on the couch beside Katrina. “Alexander—alone?” he asked. “I expected we’d all fight Scarlett together.”
“That comes later. First, I need to understand just what’s inside of her.”
“I can tell you what’s inside her. Envy and spite. And selfishness. Nothing good.”
“I have no doubt of that.” Katrina gave him a crooked smile. “But I’m looking for something else entirely. I need to see the place where her magic lives—the place where she draws on the Power.”
Chase tossed his head impatiently. “What difference does that make?”
“All the difference in the world, especially to you and Roxy. I don’t know how to undo this new spell she’s put on you, Chase. I can’t puzzle it out. I’ve tried. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen, and I can’t figure out a way to undo it.”
The fierce readiness Chase had felt moments before drained from his body, replaced by the bleak inner vista of a lifetime without Roxy—without love. An endless tunnel of despair, stretching into an unknown future.
“Don’t look so depressed,” Katrina said lightly. “I’ve figured out another way to undo her dirty work. It won’t be like reversing her force-shifts.” Her tone went grim. “It’s something else entirely. But if I’m right—if my plan with Alexander works—it will solve the problem of Scarlett forever.”
Chase could tell by her sudden sobriety that Katrina wasn’t entirely pleased with the idea. Whatever she planned to do, it must be something terrible for a witch to contemplate. But she was willing to do it, for Chase’s sake—for all their sakes. He took her hand, squeezing in wordless thanks.
Jack reappeared from the kitchen, bearing a huge, crystal salad bowl in his arms. He set it on the table in front of Katrina, and then Brooke poured water carefully from a pitcher until the bowl was nearly overflowing. Katrina held up her hand; Brooke set the pitcher aside. The brothers of Alpha House clustered around the table, watching Katrina intently as she muttered a rhythmic chant under her breath. She passed her hands a few times over the bowl of water, as if clearing away an invisible mist hanging above its still-rippling surface. And then, faintly at first, blurred shapes began to form on the water. No, Chase saw as he leaned forward, staring intently into the bowl—not on the water, but inside it—within the shallow curve of the crystal.
He saw movement—the slinking, rapid lope of a wolf running, and the dodge of shadow and light as the great white beast sped through the sagebrush, over the shoulder of a ridge, and down the other side. The wolf’s breath lifted in white puffs, trailing through the darkening air as evening brought on its cold. Over the deep-blue line of the horizon, the moon began to rise, a sharp-pointed sickle like a slash of light through a torn velvet curtain.
Chase wondered at the strange image, at the perspective and speed. It was as if a movie camera glided smoothly along, following just above and behind Alexander’s wolf as he ran, keeping perfect pace, maintaining its position with precision and ease. Chase blinked at Katrina, who sat still-faced, with concenting on the image in the water. Was it her spirit that followed Alexander? Did the familiar bond draw something out of her—something that was even now running along through the gathering night, following the pale brush of the wolf’s tail? Were they looking, even now, through a portion of Katrina’s soul? The notion made Chase’s skin crawl. He edged away from her, but he couldn’t tear his attention from the images playing out in the water like some ethereal film. Katrina’s magic held Chase with a grip like a hunter’s trap—dangerous and sharp, but wholly inescapable.
The white wolf continued to run. The feathery puffs of his breath came faster and harsher the farther he went, but he showed no signs of slowing. He paused on a high ridge, staring about, and the unseen perspective that accompanied him swiveled too, taking in the landscape, the pallid moonlight that ran like trickles of silver along forested hills, the vast expanse of the elk refuge lying like a blanket of gray wool to the east, and the cluster of orange lights in the distance that represented Jackson Hole. “That way,” Katrina muttered, barely more than a whisper, and on the instant, Alexander turned and loped off to the west.
After a few more minutes of tireless running, the wolf checked. Pine forest had begun to reach out toward him, enclosing him in dense shadows. With his superior night-vision, which Katrina’s foll
owing spirit seemed to have adopted as its own, Alexander caught the tall, fluid blur of a shaggy violet shade rippling between the trunks of trees. The wolf paused and sniffed, and then his tail lifted, wagging a greeting. The tall shadow stepped closer. Its rack of magnificent antlers were beaded in frost and starlinght, and stood out clearly against the tangle of forest branches.
Chase recognized the elk at once. “Darien!”
“We’re close now,” Katrina said softly.
The elk turned and slipped back through the trees. Alexander followed at a trot, determination and focus written on every line of his sleek, powerful form. In a few moments more, the pair of shifters made their way across a gravel road and up into a cluster of cabins. Most of them were dark—only dim, snow-covered shadows like great boulders among the trees. But in one, a square of yellow glowed, throwing a wash of dancing candle light out onto the snow.
Darien’s elk paused, ducked its head to the white wolf, and veered away into the forest, disappearing among the shadows. Alexander shook his fur and stepped coolly into the square of light—alone, save for the unseen watcher that hovered just behind him.
Chase could hear nothing through the bowl of water, of course. But Katrina gave a tiny start, as if she’d detected a sound in the wintery clearing outside the cabin’s wall—the squealing of a hinge, perhaps, or the click of a boot against wood. A moment later, silhouetted against the glow from the cabin’s open door, a woman stepped out onto the snow.