Twice Turned

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Twice Turned Page 24

by Heather McCorkle


  Ayra cleared her throat. “There is something each of you needs to know about me,” she said in a cold tone that commanded every eye in the room, virtual or actual.

  I couldn’t stop the crooked grin that worked its way onto my face if I had wanted to, and I didn’t. She sounded hot as Helheimr when she took command like that. It stirred my Alpha side into a nearly uncontrollable frenzy of need. Even with a healing tear in my heart, I wanted her bad. I didn’t try to hide that either. It was time these people knew she was mine, and I was hers.

  The questions and demands from the council members stopped. Some eyes revealed anticipation, others interest, and even some, hostility. But all remained silent.

  Ayra lifted her chin and stretched to her full height. Her head still only came to my throat but her size didn’t diminish her presence. If anything, it accentuated it.

  “I do not belong to any pack.” She stepped away from me far enough to remove her jacket.

  Hands going to the back of a chair we had placed nearby for such a purpose, I leaned my weight on it as casually as I could. The world didn’t try to sway away from me, yet.

  She turned her jacket around, showing the counsellors the AVV symbol of a roaring wolf’s head on the back. “I relinquish my membership to the American Viking Varúlfur. While I still believe strongly in the democracy they stand for, I can’t belong to any faction of any kind.”

  She dropped the jacket on the floor. Hard gaze moving to each gaping face on each monitor, she circled the room slowly. “Because I am I not just the uppskera for the varúlfur, nor am I even just the uppskera for the canine shifters. I am the uppskera for all of shifter kind.” The berserkr who had been glaring hard at her flinched when she stopped at his monitor. “I am death, chosen by Odin himself to reap those who threaten our kind and break our creeds, and I do not care what kind of shifter that person turns out to be.”

  Council members started to look to the side, the ceiling, even the floor, anywhere but at her. Power and confidence radiated out from her, reaching them even through the monitors. And they didn’t even get the half of it. Standing in the same room with her felt like sunbathing naked on a triple digit day in the desert.

  After a moment of silence, she went on. “Some idiots think they can take my place, as if being the uppskera is a position or a title to steal. Their assassins are dead, and I will discover who sent them, and they soon will be dead too. To threaten me is to threaten the will of Odin. Anyone who does so will be shown no mercy.”

  She looked down, then to the side at me, a beckoning look. Stealing myself for the pain that came with excessive movement, I pushed away from the chair. My hard gaze scanned the faces on the monitors. Not a single one offered any look of challenge. I stopped just behind Ayra, resting my hands on her shoulders. When she didn’t speak, I took my cue to do so.

  “The assassins who came after me are dead as well. I will kill any and all who threaten the uppskera, or my place at her side.”

  She reached up and placed a hand atop mine. “Vidar Balderson is not only my verndari, we are now mates. He is the only allegiance I have. Any who threaten him, threaten me. And we will kill any threats to us.”

  Warmth spread throughout me. Despite the throbbing pain in my chest, a smile came easily to my lips. That made it official, not just to our kind, but to the entire world. Like full wolves, we mated for life. By proclaiming us mates, she told them all that she wouldn’t take another if I died. Rivals had no reason to try and kill me now.

  I looked from one monitor, to the next, and the next, doing my best not to sway on my feet as I did so. Ayra’s grip on my hand tightened. She leaned back against me, steadying me. I tried to channel all my old comic book heroes as I told them, “Do you understand what your uppskera is telling you? These threats against us stop now. We will not tip the balance by choosing any side, be it varúlfur or otherwise. Our duty is to stave off chaos and keep the balance to protect all of shifter kind.”

  The eyes I met looked away in submission. Several of the counsellors nodded, appearing satisfied, others looked relieved. The varúlfur counsellor dropped her eyes for a moment, then looked back up at Ayra and I.

  “Thank you for your words, Uppskera Ayra Valdísdóttir and Vidar Balderson of the Order of the Verndari. I’m glad you came forward to speak to us. I will take this to the Alpha Council. We will ensure our kind understand that to go against you is to go against the entire Alpha Council,” she said.

  Both Ayra and I nodded to her. I thrust my chin in Evan’s direction and gave him a look. The monitors went blank as he cut the feed. The vacuum of sound and energy it left in the room pulled me under. Or maybe it was just my body finally demanding I rest like a sane person and let it heal. Either way, darkness rushed in and swallowed me. Not even the fact that I was now an alpha to all the combined shifter races could stop it.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Ayra

  Beads of rain ran up my visor in a steady flow. Passing headlights sent little sparks reflecting off them out into the night. The scent of wet pavement and exhaust permeated my helmet, nauseating me slightly. There could be no avoiding it, though. Even at barely four hours past the witching hour Highway 26 was busy. Traffic lessened with each mile I got outside of Portland. Only once I passed a small town called Banks was I finally able to maintain the speed limit without passing people left and right.

  The anxiety of leaving Vidar at Evan’s place eased with each mile I put between us. I couldn’t have him following me. He needed to heal. My brother would recognize Vidar’s weakened state in an instant and he would use it against him, and me. I could handle this without him. I had to. Emelia had given Vidar something to help him sleep, and I had slipped out the moment he lost consciousness. I would only have an hour before his werewolf metabolism burned through the drug and he woke up. But, according to my GPS, an hour was all I needed to reach Cannon Beach.

  Just as the highway turned into a seemingly abandoned road winding its way through a thick forest of beautiful fir and pine that reached the sky, my Bluetooth told me I had an incoming call. From my brother. I let it ring for a few moments before deciding.

  “Answer.”

  His snide, condescending voice came through the speakers in my helmet. “Little sister, you have proved far more resilient than I thought you would be. Of course you have me to thank for that.”

  “Like hell I do.”

  “What was that? The road noise must have garbled your thank you.”

  My fangs extended, forcing my jaw open slightly. I knew damn well I had come through crystal clear. With speakers and microphones in all the right places, this helmet was more than adequate.

  “What do you want, Calder? You had better not be running from me,” I warned.

  An angry growl came through my speakers. “As if. I’ve never run from you.”

  “If that were true we would have had this conversation weeks ago in Hemlock Hollow.”

  Calder laughed. “Clueless as always, little sister.” He snarled the word “little” as if it were a bad thing. He had always tried to make me feel like less than nothing because of my size. But now it just made me realize he was the small one.

  I had several more miles to go, might as well play along. “Why did you leave Hemlock Hollow then?”

  “The pieces had to be moved into place. I had to do my part. Now, you and me can finally get the reckoning we deserve.”

  The words sent a chill through me that surpassed any the rainy weather could cause. Though I knew Vidar was safe with Evan and Emelia, my thoughts still turned to him. There could be no safer place for him than in the company of two of Portland’s most powerful draugr. It felt too much like I was trying to convince myself. The chills multiplied. I shifted down and started to pull on the front brakes.

  Then memories that weren’t mine barreled into me.

  Not just one condemned, but dozens upon dozens. All manner of crimes from the mundane to the horrific flashed in the back of my m
ind. I had to forcibly shut them out so I could see the road.

  “I’m guessing by your stunned silence that you’ve felt the condemned waiting for you here in Cannon Beach.”

  When I didn’t answer, Calder laughed long and hard. “I have them locked away from the town for the moment, but if you don’t arrive within the hour, I’m going to let them loose. To get to me you’ll have to go to Wheeler Marina. Because I’m generous, I’ll give you an extra eighteen minutes to travel the extra eighteen miles south.”

  Just as I suspected; he wanted our confrontation to take place before the festival. The idiot thought he could still defeat me like he had when we were kids.

  A roar tore from me. “I’m coming for them, and you.”

  I let go of the brakes and pulled the throttle back. The bike roared to life beneath me. I let it nearly redline before shifting. Fifteen minutes remained in the hour and I still had fifty miles to go. I might make it, if I could avoid any speed traps. For the sake of the town of Cannon Beach and Wheeler, I had to try.

  …

  When my headlights hit the sign welcoming me to Wheeler, my phone rang again. The electronic voice told me it was Vidar. I gave it the command to ignore the call. The scythe of guilt dug into me. But I couldn’t risk giving him the chance to delay me. If this worked out right, it would all be over by the time he could get here.

  All that time I had wasted being mad at him… No. I couldn’t think about that now.

  I followed my GPS instructions through the sleeping town to the marina. All throughout the deserted streets I felt for the presence of other werewolves, but there weren’t any. But that sense could only detect so far. The constant rain washed away any scent trails that would have lingered, so that was no help either. The crisp smells of salt water and juniper permeated through my helmet. It made me anxious for action. Finally, after so many days of hunting the asshole, I would get the chance to confront him.

  He had a world of hurt coming for all the horrible things he had done, the least of which were to me. If Raul was right and Calder wasn’t the only one behind all of this, I’d deal with that later. Ridding the world of my brother would be a huge step in the right direction. And it was a step I alone had to take.

  The overwhelming scent of fish told me I had reached the marina before I turned the corner. It unfolded in a dark blue swath that stretched out toward the horizon. A dozen or so ships sat at the docks, their shapes dark against the slowly brightening sky. I chose a parking spot in the middle of the empty lot and shut my bike off.

  I took my helmet off and hung it on my handlebars. My jacket soon followed. The rain began to soak through my T-shirt almost instantly. But it would be better to get wet than to deal with the constricting fit of the nylon and armor padding. The roaring knotwork wolf patch sewn on the back seemed to stare me down with a look of betrayal. Loneliness snagged at my willpower. By stepping out of the American Viking Varúlfur I had left behind the only pack I’d ever chosen. But I wasn’t alone. I had Vidar. If I made it out of this alive.

  I didn’t feel any other werewolves, but I could smell them. Their scents lingered like an old trail. The only fresh scent among them was Calder’s. He had been through here within the hour. Unfortunately, his scent trail led down one of the docks with boats lining each side. So his plan was to ambush me. Fine.

  I removed my boots and placed them upside down next to my bike. The less I wore, the less I had to deal with if I needed to shift fast. Gaze and senses trying to check every direction at once, I walked down to the docks. It bothered me deeply that I couldn’t feel the condemned anymore. Where had they gone? Wet asphalt gripped my feet, unable to harm my tough werewolf skin, but still uncomfortable by its nature alone. Each ship I passed made me tense in preparation. No lights, no laughter, no music, no scents of humans or food being prepared, nor any other evidence of people.

  Not a soul even wandered around on this rainy night. Of course that could be in part because of the metallic tang of lightning I tasted in the air. I hoped that was all that was keeping people inside, and not the murderous tendencies of my brother. Thunder rolled in the distance, out over the choppy ocean. I said a quick prayer to Aegir, guardian of the seas, in hopes that he might be kind to the chosen of Odin. From the roil of his waters, it didn’t seem he was in a good mood.

  At the end of the dock sat a small fishing boat, the kind with a motor on the back that doubled as a steering mechanism. Lightning flashed up in the clouds, brightening the sky just enough that I saw something in the boat. After another quick look and feel around, I jumped down into the boat. One of those white, waterproof message boards you can place at a pool or in your shower sat on the wooden bench.

  Due North, it read in Calder’s handwriting.

  Dark, rain-heavy clouds concealed anything beyond a hundred feet out in the ocean. I turned to the motor and looked it over. It had a pull cord like a chain saw. Fingers around the handle, I drew in a deep breath through my nose. Nothing strange that might indicate a bomb tainted the air. I couldn’t be sure, exactly, but I felt sure enough to pull the cord and start the engine. It rumbled to life after two pulls. Tapping into my werewolf sense of direction, I pointed the boat due north and pulled the throttle.

  The little boat broke through the water with enough speed to make the nose bounce off the surface. Waves undulated around me, looking like they wanted to swallow my boat and me with it. Wind whipped the rain against me, soaking my clothes through and leaving me with a chill that had more to do with the ominous air than the temperature. Any semblance of dawn disappeared as the sky darkened with thickening clouds. Thunder rolled across the sky like the wheels of Odin’s chariot. I wasn’t sure if I should take it as a warning, or just as typical Oregon coastal weather.

  Either way, I couldn’t turn back. Twenty yards out I felt the press of my brother’s power. It drew my gaze to a huge, dark shape out near the horizon in the middle of the ocean. As I grew closer I realized it was a container ship. Metal box containers big enough to house a small RV sat here and there across the large deck. Normally those things didn’t ship out until the entire deck was lined with metal boxes. It was as if someone had set sail without waiting for it to be fully loaded.

  Great, Calder stole a container ship. Who knew how many people he had killed in the process? The thought made me shudder.

  He had stacked up far more bodies than I had, either directly or through the new werewolves he bit in. My resolve hardened. Rather than pull the throttle back harder, I eased off it and slowed my approach. I dropped my walls a bit as I grew closer. Calder’s power remained the only one on the ship. But I knew he wouldn’t be alone for long.

  Drums of thunder sounded again. The clouds flashed bright with the evidence of lightning just above them. Both the sound and sight soothed me. If I was lucky, Calder hadn’t been the one to send those last assassins after Vidar, and so hadn’t seen me channel lightning. What he didn’t know could hurt him. While I had to rely on luck for it to strike, a ship with metal containers scattered on its deck helped tip the odds in my favor. I hoped.

  Part of me respected Calder’s choice of ships. Considering these behemoths lost altogether up to 10,000 containers a year at sea, they were an environmental threat all their own. Removing one from circulation for even a day was a win. But then, Calder always had cared about the environment. It was the one thing—besides parents—that we had in common.

  I shifted only my eyes to those of a wolf, allowing me to see clearly in the dark as I approached the side of the ship. The hull came alive with the tiny glow of barnacles. Calder’s energy signature was somewhere near the center of the deck. Twenty feet or so away from the ship, I killed the motor and floated in on momentum. He’d know what side I approached from because he would have heard me coming, but I was hoping by drifting along the ship a bit, he couldn’t pinpoint my exact spot. A flash of the old anxiety I always felt around my brother tried to rear up. But I wasn’t that fearful little girl anymore.

/>   Anger replaced my anxiety. The face of each werewolf I’d had to kill because of Calder flashed in my memory. They fanned the flames of that anger. Each memory of what those men had done, both as werewolves, and before, worked like the squeeze of a bellows. The anger burned on the edge of mindless fury. I focused on my breathing, my control. I pushed away the thoughts of my brother and his prodigy. Instead, I focused on Vidar, all I felt for him, all he felt for me. Calm slowly began to set in.

  I leaped up to the deck of the container ship. Due to the sway of the boat I jumped from, I landed off balance. I tucked and rolled across the wet, steel deck. The roll took me back up onto my feet. Fists before me, I prepared for an attack. But it didn’t come. Instead, my brother stood in plain sight, leaning up against a tall, steel container. The strangeness of his casual manner froze me in place.

  He made a scoffing laugh sort of noise. “Ayra, graceful as always.” The derision in his tone was meant to make me feel small, useless. For the first time, it didn’t work. It only made him sound insecure. I’d never thought of him that way and it made me a little sad.

  But only a little. That sadness faded when I saw the depth of disgust and loathing in the shine of his eyes. “Calder, insecure as always,” I said.

  Lightning above the clouds lit the deck in an eerie glow long enough for me to see the stupefied surprise on my brother’s face. Little tingles of victory worked through me. I’d never talked back to him before. It felt good. The look disappeared before the light could fade completely.

  “Someone is feeling over confident,” he said.

  “I’m not the same little girl you used to beat up,” I warned him. “What makes you think you can do what your assassins couldn’t?”

  He emitted a scoffing sort of laugh. “You can’t honestly tell me you think I’m not better than a bunch of newly bitten or a weretiger that turned out to like cunts better than cocks.”

  I shrugged. “Maybe you are. But a berserkr, then four werewolf assassins at once, not even you can think you’re better than all of them. You’re arrogant, but you’re not stupid.”

 

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