Blue Howl (Blue Wolf Book 3)

by Brad Magnarella

  But I talked it down.

  “Remember your training,” I said in a soft voice. “Remember your meditative practices.”

  “Who are you talking to?” she demanded.

  Beyond the dragon’s fiery form, the Wendigo was regaining its strength. There was no time for this, but it was the only way. I wasn’t going to fight her. The dragon puffed out her chest in a display of power. Sparks flew from her batting wings. But did red crescents just glimmer around her eyes?

  “I see you, Takara,” I said. “I see you fighting.”

  The dragon released a ferocious shriek and shook her wings again.

  “Keep it up, Takara. You can do this. You’re strong enough. It’s why I put you in command.”

  Without warning, the dragon lunged toward me. I’d been holding Austin behind me, but now I set him on the ground and threw my arms out. In a final burst of flames, the dragon’s feathers vanished, and Takara wilted into my embrace. Smoke plumed from her leathers as I held her against me. I could smell the heat of her scarred skin, but she was herself again. She let out a small moan.

  “It’s okay,” I whispered. “I’ve got you.”

  Her moan became words. “Finish … the mission…”

  Beyond the dissipation of smoke, the Wendigo was stirring.

  I set Takara down, out of harm’s way. “You ready, soldier?” I said, turning to Austin, but he wasn’t there. He’d gained his feet and, stick in hand, was staggering toward the casting circle. Fires lingered in several nooks and crannies around the cavern, serving as small pyres. In their light, the Wendigo rose to a knee.

  The Cree warriors resumed firing at it, but this time the creature ignored the flashing arrows. It rounded on Austin, who looked like he was moving in slow motion, one elbow pinned to his bleeding side.

  “I’m so sorry, Connor,” Austin grunted. “Was just trying to help you.”

  He looked up at the Wendigo’s face. But unlike Takara’s dragon, there was no humanity in the creature. Not even a glimmer. With a roar, it drew back a clawed hand. But while it had been fixating on Austin’s voice, I had been moving in from behind. In one quick motion, I seized it around the neck and slammed it onto its back. The Wendigo let out a terrible screech.

  “Now!” I shouted.

  Austin lunged in and thrust the stick at the Wendigo’s exposed stomach.

  “Love you, brother,” he said.

  The totem stick hit home with a detonation of light. I heard a rapid chant, as if the totem faces were speaking at once, and then a blue beam shot down from the cavern ceiling and into the circle. One second I was holding the Wendigo, and in the next, I was being blown backwards. I tumbled for several feet and came to a rest as the blue light faded from the space.

  I peered toward the circle. Where the Wendigo had once been lay a scattering of gray dust. I spotted Austin ten meters away. He had been blown off, too, and was lying flat on his back. The totem stick was nowhere in sight.

  I let out my breath. It was done.

  I was looking for Takara when I felt the pressure of her hand on my shoulder. A glance at her pale face told me she was still suffering from her transformation, but she was standing. She watched me as I rose.

  “I’m returning command to you,” she managed.

  Before I could respond, she winced and shifted her gaze to Austin. She leaned against me, and we approached him together.

  “Hey, man,” I said, kneeling beside him. “You all right?”

  Austin struggled onto his elbows and blinked his vision straight. “Is it gone?”

  Besides the evidence in the circle, I couldn’t feel the Wendigo’s hunger anymore. The being was truly banished.

  “Yeah.”

  Austin lay his head back and started to cry. Relief, exhaustion, the horror of the last two months—it was all coming out. I turned in time to see the Cree warriors filing quietly from the cavern, returning to their realm. The final one stopped, brought a fist to his chest, and closed his other hand around it. His eyes gleamed at me. I mirrored the gesture, and he disappeared.

  Austin caught my side of the exchange. “Cree warrior salute,” he said.

  “Then you merit one too. What you just did took serious bravery.”

  His eyes danced through his tears. “Or serious insanity.”

  “Let’s take a look at your side.” I lifted his layers of clothes from the wound. Blood leaked freely, but the damage from the Wendigo didn’t go deeper than the muscle. He’d be all right.

  I pulled a pressure bandage from my pack to stop the bleeding.

  “The Wendigo ceremony was missing from your mother’s notebook,” I said when I’d finished and pulled his jacket back down.

  With a nod, Austin reached into a pocket and produced a dirty sheaf of folded-up paper. As I accepted it, I considered Austin’s role in the killings. He was a pawn, I reminded myself. An agent in the Shaking Man’s hunger for revenge. He thought he was helping a friend.

  But would he attempt more conjurings?

  “Burn it,” Austin said of the notes. “That doesn’t need to be out in the world.”

  I did the honors, hitting the sheaf of pages with a blast from a flamethrower. As the pages disintegrated to ash, I wondered if we should check on the Shaking Man next, gauge his level of threat. But that would be straying way outside the mission parameters, and I had no idea what we’d be walking into.

  “Do you have the keys to your truck?” I asked Austin.

  He patted a pants pocket, producing a rustle of metal.

  “Then let’s clear out,” I said.

  27

  Everyone who had left Cavern Lake ahead of us had made it back to the lodge safely. I found Sarah tending to Ms. Welch, who was already improving. Yoofi snored in his bedroom, while Rusty hammered on a keyboard in the command-and-control center, checking configurations on our restored system.

  I’d called ahead with the news of mission accomplished, but we were all too spent to celebrate. For now, a few weary smiles and claps on the shoulders sufficed. Through the mission’s peaks and valleys, we’d all had a role in its success. Like the celebration, I would worry about the particulars later.

  I found a bed for Austin and carried Takara to hers. She made a face, but I was back in command and wanted her to start what would be a lengthy recovery. I then sent a SITREP to Beam and called Olaf with an update. During the same call, I spoke to Mayor Grimes to inform him the threat had ended and his son was safe. I left out the details. How much he found out would be up to Austin.

  Grimes didn’t thank me, but I could hear his relief. The roads around the lake were socked in, he said, but he would have them plowed in the morning so Olaf could return to us and Austin to them.

  “So, we’re good then?” he asked in a lowered voice, referring to his side business.

  “Not my jurisdiction,” I replied. “But maybe you should start thinking about the price of discretion. You lost several people, insisting this thing was a bear attack. And it could have been a lot worse. Was it worth it?”

  His end fell quiet.

  “If there’s a next time, call us,” I said.

  “I will. Right now, though, I have wolf issues. A pack got to my dogs last night.”

  I found Sarah as she was finishing up with Austin’s wounds. “I can keep an eye on him and Ms. Welch,” I said, “make sure they’re doing all right. Why don’t you get some sleep?”

  “What about you?”

  “Full of energy,” I lied. “I can sleep on the flight back.”

  Sarah gave me a sidelong look as she stripped off her latex gloves. I thought about the skunk database, the one she hadn’t told me about. Right before she stepped from the room, I stopped her.

  “Hey, what happened to Nadie?”

  “The she-wolf? She followed us back here and then left.”

  “Left? Did she say where she was going?”

  “No. Why?”

  I felt a vague disappointment, like a howl echoing off
into the distance.

  “Just wanted to thank her for her help with the mission,” I said. “That’s all.”

  Sarah looked at me for another moment before leaving.

  By morning, the storm had ended and the rising sun gleamed over the virgin snow. The plow arrived, circled the drive, then headed back toward town. Olaf returned and Austin prepared to depart.

  “Be good,” I told him on his way out.

  “After what happened? Don’t worry.”

  We clasped hands and he was off, healed and limping less than he’d been the night before. Yoofi had recovered enough by sunrise to apply some magic to him. He’d done the same for Ms. Welch, who was sitting up and talking. According to Sarah, she remembered being attacked at the cabin but almost nothing else, which was just as well. While Sarah made arrangements to have her transferred to a Centurion medical facility, I stuck my helmeted head into her room.

  “Hey, how are you feeling?” I asked.

  “Like I need a shower,” she said with a self-conscious smile. Something about her spoke to expensive tastes—probably why she’d ended up with Berglund—but there was a sincerity to her as well.

  “Shouldn’t be much longer,” I said. “I’m Captain Wolfe, by the way.”

  “I guessed as much. Thank you for what you did out there.”

  “I’m just glad you’re safe.”

  “I understand Karl contracted you?” When I nodded, she made a face. “I hope he wasn’t a problem to work with. He can be … a little overzealous sometimes.”

  A little? I thought.

  “He’ll be happy to see you,” I said.

  About thirty minutes later, Berglund arrived with the Centurion team. Their vehicles had barely pulled in front of the lodge when he jumped out and hustled up the front porch steps. A bandage covered his forehead. When I saw the cast on his wrist, I remembered smashing away his sidearm. I opened the door so he wouldn’t run into it. Even though our last exchange had involved me cracking a rifle butt against his head, Berglund hardly glanced my way as he hurried past.

  “Caitlyn?” he shouted. “Caitlyn, baby, are you in here?”

  “Back here,” she called.

  Their reunion was tearful, mostly on his end, and filled with Oh my Gods and I can’t believe its. The rest of us gave them their space, but after ten minutes of the same, the Centurion team announced it was time to move out.

  As they loaded Ms. Welch onto a plinth and carried her to a medical van, Berglund bounded around them like a large dog. From a window, I watched him offer loud opinions on how his girlfriend should be carried and loaded—which the team wisely ignored.

  When the leader climbed into the front vehicle, I caught a look of exasperation on his face. Oh, he’s just getting started, I thought, ready for Berglund to be someone else’s problem.

  “Oh, hey, can you hold on a sec?” Berglund called to the team.

  I groaned as I watched him make his way back up the steps. I’d spoken too damned soon. I met him on the front porch to spare my teammates.

  “Forget something?” I asked.

  “Yeah.” He threw his arms around me and pressed his head to my chest. “You were right,” he said in a voice that verged on sobbing. “You told me you’d get the job done, and you goddamned got it done. I don’t know what to tell you, man. I should’ve listened. I know I should’ve listened. Here’s what I’m gonna do,” he said, standing back and wiping his eyes. “I’m gonna give you and your teammates a nice bonus for your trouble. Off the books. How’s that sound?”

  “We didn’t recover her for you,” I said.

  “I know, but you recovered her. That’s all that matters.”

  I was about to blow him off when an idea hit me. “Then how about paying it forward? These missions aren’t cheap, and most of the world can’t afford them. If you’re serious, how about getting together with Centurion and setting up a fund for cases where the client is cash-strapped.”

  Berglund stared up at my visor as if his head were filling with an epiphany. “A hardship fund. That’s a great idea. I’m gonna do that. I’m really gonna do that. And I’ll put it in Caitlyn’s name.”

  “I have one request, though,” I said.

  “What’s that?”

  “You have no say in where and how that money’s disbursed.” While such a fund was desperately needed, the last thing I wanted was for the man to be involved in future missions.

  I watched Berglund’s face harden with resistance—a reflex probably, because it quickly softened. “Heh. You got yourself a deal, Captain Wolfe. Seriously, I can’t thank you enough for getting her back to me. And I’m sorry about the collateral damage.” He was referring to the hunters who had attacked Nadie and me. “I’m gonna make that right too.”

  When he came in for another hug, I figured what the hell and let him.

  “I don’t know if you’ve met your Caitlyn yet,” he said when he stood back, “but you’ll know it when you do. They’re one in a billion.”

  Already have, I thought, but didn’t say it.

  I watched him climb into the front of the medical van. The vehicles pulled out in a line. I checked my watch. We were due to fly out in about an hour, which meant packing time. I was turning to head back inside when something caught my eye off to my right.

  At the side of the lodge, three large spruce trees grew close enough together that the ground beneath them was free of snow. That’s where Nadie stood now. She was in her human form, dressed in the hunter’s clothes from the day before. Her dark hair hung in a single braid over one shoulder.

  I descended the steps and walked toward her.

  “I didn’t expect to see you,” I said.

  “I came to say goodbye,” she replied when I arrived in front of her.

  “I noticed you closed our connection.”

  She smiled sadly. “Though it didn’t last long, our collective mind showed me all I could have wanted in a mate. Your strength, your leadership, your sense of justice. I also felt your love.” She looked away. “But it wasn’t for me. It’s for the woman awaiting your return.”

  I nodded. “Her name’s Daniela.”

  When Nadie didn’t say anything, I removed my helmet and brought her chin around so our eyes met.

  “I wasn’t born like this,” I said. “I won’t be staying this way.”

  “I know.”

  “Your pack will be glad to have you back. They thought you’d passed to the other side.” I remembered the lonely howls as the pack disappeared into last night’s snowstorm.

  But Nadie was shaking her head. “I can’t live under Aranck’s rule. Not anymore. Not after…” She glanced up at me and then away as her voice trailed off.

  “So what will you do?”

  “Become a lone wolf. Explore the territories Aranck forbade us from entering. There are whole worlds out there I know nothing about.” She chuckled and smoothed my furrowed brow with her hand. “Don’t worry for me, Captain Wolfe. Our kind are survivors.”

  “Be careful,” I said.

  “You too.” She rose onto her tiptoes and kissed my cheek. Her dark eyes lingered on mine before she turned and walked away. I watched her until she disappeared behind a tree. Moments later the air crackled, as if from a burst of static electricity. She reappeared in her wolf form just long enough to blend into the snow-covered landscape.

  I didn’t know if it was my wolf instincts, but I glimpsed a future where she was running with a fellow shifter. I could even see their offspring, three or four shifter pups. She’d find her pack.

  Eyes flashed gold—a final look back—and she was gone.

  I released a farewell howl and rejoined my team.

  28

  I gave Rusty his promised time off. He flew out the morning after our return to spend a week with his wife and kids. Mostly his kids.

  Though the others had the option to travel, none seemed interested in going anywhere. Yoofi was still recovering from his efforts to get us into the Wendigo’
s lair as well as a chill he’d caught. He spent most of the day in bed, Sugar Nice thumping on the stereo and a hot water bottle at his feet. He didn’t say anything more about the invitation to Dabu’s feast, and I didn’t bring it up. Like Yoofi, I was in no hurry to return to his underworld.

  Takara remained at the compound too. Though I could tell she was still in pain, she didn’t talk about her transformation. She barely talked at all, in fact. So I was surprised when she knocked on my door and offered to begin teaching me to control my wolf.

  We sat across from one another on the floor of my living room, eyes closed, her voice guiding me through the exercise. She had me imagine myself growing around my wolf. Afterwards, I felt mentally sturdier, more in control. We would continue the next night, she told me in a tone that sounded like an order. But I sensed a level of respect that hadn’t been there pre mission. Whether that came from me handing her command or talking her down from her dragon state, I wasn’t sure. Either way, I interpreted the meditative training as her peace offering—one I accepted.

  For his part, Olaf spent his days lumbering around the compound. I had put my concerns for him on hold during the mission, but with that behind us, I was back to watching for any signs of humanity. On the third morning, I spotted him walking along the perimeter fencing like a caged animal.

  “Olaf,” I called, catching up to him.

  He stopped and turned his dull gaze toward me.

  “Just wanted a brief word,” I said. “We can keep walking.”

  With a grunt, he heaved himself back into motion. We walked in silence while I worked out what I was going to say. For a minute we were just a zombie and a wolfman on a morning stroll.

  “You’re a damn good soldier,” I said at last, “and I’m glad to have you on the team. You’ve been vital to the success of the last two missions. Problem is, I don’t know what’s going on inside your head.” When I turned, I was eye level with the network of old scars that criss-crossed his lumpy skull. “So I want you to listen to what I’m about to tell you. I want you to remember it. If there ever comes a point where you want out, Olaf, you need to tell me. You’re not a prisoner here.”