Twice Turned

by Heather McCorkle

  The Cabin of Dreams was a place we’d made up when we were kids. We’d imagined every room in it, down to the tiniest detail of what to hang on the walls and put on the shelves. It had been the refuge in my mind, the place I went when things got too bad at home. All I’d had to do was close my eyes and I was there. It had gotten me through the darkest of times. Not wanting him to see how deeply the memory affected me, I moved in to the tiny bathroom to gather my toiletries.

  I heard Vidar swallow hard. “Are you still going to go through with the marriage now that you’re the uppskera?”

  “Of course I am. I’m an honorable wolf. I keep my vows.”

  His power surged in a way that meant he was in pain. Good. That meant he remembered the vow he and I took, to be there for each other no matter what, a vow he broke.

  It was several along moments before he spoke again. “We should talk about the lightning thing.”

  “What about it?” I called back, anger leaking into my words.

  Last month I’d saved the life of the leitar—the seeker, the yin to my yang—by channeling lightning through her and turning it to a healing force that attacked her wounds. Well, I’d helped save her. She did her part by attracting the lightning.

  “Now everyone knows,” Vidar said.

  He had known I could channel lightning since we were kids. He was the only one who knew. Not even Elí knew about it.

  “No, they don’t. They saw the seeker and I get hit by lightning, that’s all. They have no idea I can channel it. They just know we both can survive getting hit by it.” Recalling the moment, my brows pinched together and I shook my head. While I was still angry with him, he was the only person I could talk to about this. “There’s something else, though, Vidar. The seeker, it’s like she attracted it, as though she’s a lightning rod.” I could channel electrical energy, but I had to have access to it. What she did was something altogether different.

  Vidar cocked his head to the side and went quiet. His brow scrunched up in that adorable way it always did when he was deep in thought. An adorable deserter who condemned me to years of pain and an arranged marriage. Digging around for the things I needed, I turned my back to him. I’d gathered the last of my essentials and zipped my pack closed before he finally spoke. “That’s disturbing. It has to be related to your ability.”

  Grabbing my three least read uppskera journals off the bookshelf, I stuffed them into my pack. A quick double check of the cat door leading out onto the back porch to make sure it was open, and I was ready to go. He had enough food and water in his bowl to last a week, mostly because he rarely touched it. Heimdallr preferred hunting his meals, and he was quite efficient at it.

  I started for the door. “Did you learn anything at the temple about my ability to channel lightning?” Though he’d never come out and said it, in the beginning, I had suspected it was one of the reasons he’d wanted to study at the temple. The boy—no, man now—had possessed an insatiable curiosity and my ability had taken center stage for that curiosity much of our childhood. Once he dropped off the grid, I was afraid he’d forgotten about it, and me. But I had to know.

  Shaking his head, he opened the door for me. “Sadly, no. But I had to be careful. I didn’t ask anyone directly because I thought it best to keep it a secret until we knew what we were dealing with.”

  Excuses. Just as I suspected; he forgot about me. The heat of his body and comfort of his power wrapped around me as I walked past him. It took a lot of effort to make my legs keep moving. I wanted to collapse against that hard chest of his, lose myself in the feel of his arms. I’d dreamt of it so many times since he’d been gone… But those were the silly dreams of a girl. I was an engaged woman now, and the uppskera on top of that. And I would not allow myself to be used by someone who only wanted me because I was the uppskera. Surely that was the only reason he was back.

  Three new scents hit me as we stepped out into the sun. The musk within them was mild, suggesting pups who hadn’t quite hit puberty yet. Another scent lay below it, a different kind of musk, from some kind of small animal. My sensitive ears picked up two mocking voices over the protests and pleas of a third coming from around the side of my house. Instinct kicked in, not a territorial one, but a protective one. Thanks to my brother, I knew the sounds of bullying all too well. I couldn’t just let this be. Eager to get away from Vidar, I slung the pack over my shoulder and started that direction.

  A few moments passed before I heard Vidar’s steps follow me.

  Through the tall pine trees hugging the side of my house, I saw an all too familiar scene.

  Three boys—the eldest of which couldn’t be over twelve—stood beside my raised bed of orange poppies and red tulips. The two hovering over the third like vultures had at least thirty pounds on the younger boy. One boy with a messy mop of brown hair grabbed something from the clutches of the smaller boy. An angry squeak filled the air. A brown furred form writhed in the grasp of the mop-haired boy. The fear-filled eyes of a ferret caught in the bigger boy’s hands rolled toward the small boy. The creature’s little heart beat so hard I could hear it from here. The predatory look on mop-haired boy and his friend’s face said they heard it too.

  The small boy bared his teeth at the other two. “Give him back, now! If you hurt him I’ll—”

  “You’ll what, pup? Bite us? Oh wait, you can’t! You haven’t even become yet,” the mop-haired boy taunted.

  The third boy bared fangs at the smaller one. “We’re doing you a favor. Bringing the uppskera a gift like this is just stupid.”

  The little boy grabbed for his ferret, but mop-haired simply lifted it up out of his reach. “You’re stupid, both of you!” the little boy yelled.

  His tenacity made me smile. If he kept this up he’d get pummeled, as he likely had on more than one occasion by these very boys. But he wouldn’t give up. I could see it in his eyes. His fingers curled into fists.

  “What is all this noise in my backyard?” I demanded as I strode out of the trees toward them.

  The two bullies sucked in breaths and spun toward me with eyes so wide they were more white than anything else. They ducked their heads and hunched over, the human equivalent of tucking their tails. The small boy spared me only a glance before lunging in and snatching the ferret back. Stroking the creature, he clutched it to his chest and whispered words of comfort to it. The ferret’s heartbeat started to return to normal almost immediately.

  “Uppskera, we’re so sorry we disturbed you. We didn’t know you were home,” Mop Hair said.

  The other boy produced a colorful gift bag from behind his back. “W-w-we brought you a gift,” he stuttered.

  “I see that.”

  They flinched at my approach, hunching down even lower. But not the little one. He stood tall, turned slightly away from the other two, shielding his ferret from them. I took the offered bag. To my surprise, several bags of flower bulbs lay inside.

  Mop-haired boy’s eyes rose slowly to my face. “We thought those’d be better than cut flowers that would just die. This way you’ll have flowers every year,” he said with a tentative smile.

  I nodded. “That was very wise of you. Thank you. This is a fine gift.”

  His eyes brightened and he and the other boy straightened a bit, both smiling. After several moments of me not returning the smile, they started to reek of fear. Deciding to let them stew in it a bit, I turned to the small boy.

  “What have you there?”

  His throat worked hard to swallow as he turned to me. He sniffled a little, lifted his chin, and held the ferret out to me. His lips quivered as they turned up. “I brought you a gift too. I know it might not be as clever, or grand, but Simon is a good friend. I thought you could use a good friend.”

  Had I the ability to tear up, I definitely would have. But tears hadn’t touched my cheeks for many years. It wasn’t that I believed they were a weakness. I just didn’t have any left. Instead, I put on a scrutinizing look as I accepted the ferret. The o
ther two boys grinned as though they had scored some type of victory. The little creature went very still. It stared at me with large eyes, its little clawed feet tensing and relaxing as if it couldn’t decide whether I was a threat. But then, wasn’t everyone? The thought brought a sardonic smile to my lips, ruining the gruff ruse I was putting on.

  Moving slow so as not to alarm him, I cradled the ferret in one arm and scratched his head. He snuggled into the crook of my arm, apparently deciding I wasn’t a threat. If only that were true. I looked back at the small boy. The look of despair pulling his features down wiped away when my gaze touched him. His back straightened and he tried to smile. Many adults couldn’t show such fearlessness around me now that my power had awoken. It was impressive, and more than a little inspiring. Maybe I wasn’t the big bad monster so many feared me to be.

  “He’s a fine ferret, and there is no greater gift than a friend,” I said.

  Pain hid behind his smug expression, and his eyes kept straying to the ferret. The other two boys shot him dirty looks when they thought I couldn’t see. I stared straight at the mop-haired boy, letting him realize I’d caught him in the act.

  “What are your names?” I asked.

  Mop-haired boy stood to his full height. “I’m Kristofer. This is Jon.” He sneered in the smaller boy’s direction. “And he’s Emil.” At the third boy’s name, Kristofer’s face scrunched up as if he’d tasted something fowl.

  Still petting the ferret, I stared hard at Kristofer. “The strong protect the weak in the pack, Kris. Do you know why?” I asked.

  Eyes darting about as if searching for an elusive answer, Kris flipped his mop of hair back and snorted. The scent of anxiety drifted from him, not as rank as that of fear, but a close second.

  It was Jon who answered. “Honestly, Uppskera, we don’t.”

  A look of relief came over Kris, and he shrugged and nodded at the same time. He couldn’t have been more noncommittal if he’d tried. Clearly, he didn’t want to displease me, but he didn’t want to submit completely either. Not bad qualities in a varúlfur, really. Emil started to look worried, no doubt about the fallout from this encounter.

  “Many don’t,” I said. That drew the rapt attention of all three boys. “How do we shift in Hemlock Hollow without fear of being seen?” I asked.

  Knowledge shone in Emil’s eyes, but he didn’t speak up.

  “The sat umbrella blacks us out from the satellites,” Kris said, sounding quite pleased with himself.

  I nodded. “Yes, it does, very good. Do you know who made it?”

  Kris and Jon exchanged a confused look, and eventually looked back to me and shook their heads. When I gave Emil a questioning look, he perked up.

  “Johann Gunderson,” he said.

  “Very good, that’s right.” I looked back at the other two. “And Johann is low in the pack. When he was young, he was small and weak, yet because he was protected, we can now shift anywhere in Hemlock Hollow without fear of discovery from satellites.”

  Their eyes widened, as did Emil’s smile. I gave it a moment to sink in. “And Johann isn’t the only one,” I went on. “There are doctors, lawyers, scientists, pilots, and more who are all lower members of their packs. They help our kind survive and thrive. That is why we protect the weak, because while they may be weak physically, they are strong in other ways that will help the pack.”

  Their faces dropped into slack looks of shock as understanding lit their eyes. They looked to Emil with a new kind of interest. It was both encouraging and sad. While I might have changed the way they saw him, such a lesson was one they should have learned from their parents a long time ago. I had a feeling it was only one of many they may have failed to teach. I looked down at the bag of bulbs dangling from my arm.

  “Emil’s right, I could use a friend, or three. How would you boys like to do the uppskera a favor?” I asked.

  They smiled and bounced on the balls of their feet, each nodding in turn.

  “I’m going away for a while, uppskera business. I need someone to watch over things for me here, otherwise stuff will continue to pile up in my yard, my plants will die, and someone might break in. It’s a big job that will take all three of you,” I said.

  “We can do it!” Kris insisted.

  “We’ll work together,” Jon said.

  I narrowed my eyes at him, then at Kris. “Do you really think you can do that? All three of you?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “We can, honest.”

  I looked to Emil, who had remained quiet. “Do you think you can do that, Emil?”

  He swallowed hard and nodded. “I can. I will.”

  Looking around, I shook my head. “I don’t know. It’s a big job. I’ll need you three to separate out the gifts, recycle what can be recycled from them, re-use what you can, and clean up the rest. I’ll also need you to plant these flowers, keep them and my grass watered, and…” I paused and looked down at the ferret. “I’ll need someone to look out for him for me while I’m gone.” I looked from the ferret to Emil. “Do you think you can do that, Emil?”

  The young boy’s shoulders went back as a smile spread across his face. “I can.”

  I smiled as I handed the squirming ferret back. “Thank you.”

  The other two boys shot envious looks Emil’s way. Not a good state to leave things in. Head dipping just low enough that I could peer at them from beneath my white-blond brows, I poured a touch of my reaper power into my eyes. They collectively took a step back. I let the look fall away and replaced it with a smile. No sense in scaring them. I only wanted them to be sure of whom they were dealing with. Their cowed looks told me they were more than sure.

  “And Jon and Kris, I’ll need you to look after my cat. He’ll feed himself, I just need you to make sure no one messes with him. If you can all work together and pull this off well, you will earn the friendship of the uppskera,” I said.

  Kris’s eyes went wide. “A cat? Why do you have a cat? They hate us!”

  I shook my head. “They don’t hate us. They see us as superior predators, and that can make them a bit fearful. My cat, Heimdallr, keeps my place free of rats and mice. He serves a purpose, and he’s my friend.”

  “He serves a purpose, just like the lowest in the pack,” Jon observed.

  A smile came easily to my lips. “Exactly.”

  The thump of a hand slapping against a heart drew my gaze back to Kris. “You have our word, we’ll guard Heimdallr.”

  Their excited energy filled the air, wrapping around me like a warm summer breeze. They exchanged smiles and nods, even with Emil. In their excitement, they talked over one another, proclaiming their undying loyalty, ability, and eagerness. I handed Kris the bag of bulbs.

  “Thank you, young wolves, I appreciate your help. I’ve got to run. You three take care and be good to one another,” I said.

  They called out farewells as I turned and started back around the house. Even from around the side of the house I could hear their energetic voices talking about how they couldn’t believe they’d met and befriended the reaper. Then I heard Kris ask in a tentative voice, “Emil, since your family are farmers, do you think you might be able to help us with how and where to plant these flowers?”

  “Yeah, I could help with that.”

  “Awesome! Let’s find a spot where she can see them from her window!”

  Their conversation made a sliver of hope cut through the darkness that always seemed to surround me now. If they could really work together, I might have done some good in their lives. And maybe helping to change the minds and intentions of two bullies would help me sleep better at night. Gods, I hoped so. Any chance to do something good that didn’t involve killing was one I had to take. Soon the reaping would start and I would need something positive to hang onto when that happened.

  Vidar’s smiling face waited for me at the front of the house. Leaning back against the hood of his truck, arms crossed over his broad chest, he looked all too pleased.
And enticingly sexy, but I was trying to ignore that part. Calling up my anger over being abandoned helped.

  “That was a good thing you did,” he said softly when I approached.

  I slid my sunglasses on to hide the emotion his words stirred. “I don’t have to be the thing that goes bump in the night all the time,” I said.

  He pushed away from the truck and took a step toward me. His hand lifted as if he wanted to reach for me, but it stopped halfway from his side.

  “We need to talk, Ayra,” he said.

  Whatever he had to say couldn’t be good, not by that serious, dark look in his eyes. I didn’t want to hear it. It was far too late for apologies or explanations.

  “Look, Vidar, I get it. Talking about this as kids was one thing. Now it’s real, it’s happening. You don’t owe me anything. You don’t have to protect me anymore. I’m stronger, faster, better than I ever was, and you know how good I was back then. And now I’m not afraid to use it. You don’t have to be a part of this. You deserve to have a pack, if not a mate, a life.” I forced the words out.

  I’d wanted to rage at him about how he’d left me, about how he’d only come back because I was the uppskera now, about how he wanted something from me like all the others. But the words wouldn’t come out. Instead, I’d gone soft, like always.

  A sort of strangled look came over him, like he couldn’t breathe. The last part was too much. I shouldn’t have said it. It insinuated things I had once wanted for him, for us. Me and my big mouth. Gods, I didn’t want him to realize I had wanted him. Not now. Mostly because I didn’t now. I was engaged to a great guy who cared about me. And just like that, I realized I still did want Vidar. But as my brother used to say, “How’s it feel to want?” Horrible, it feels horrible, always has. Thinking of him—and what I couldn’t have with Vidar—stirred my anger back up. Not that it took much. The fury waited forever barely beneath a surface so thin it felt transparent.

  “So do you,” he said softly. So much pain filled those three words that it made me cringe.