Storm Wolf

by Jane Godman

  “I’m ready.” She didn’t sound ready. She sounded like she wanted to run away, as far and as fast as she could.

  Lowell tried to remember the first time he had shifted. It was so long ago, it was almost lost in the mists of time. He could hear his mother’s voice, soft and soothing. “Close your eyes as a human, open them as a wolf.” He said the same words now to Odessa, watching as her eyelids fluttered closed. “Deny your human instincts. Forget you can read and write. Forget technology and machinery, put the cares of the material world behind you. Feel the forest around you, become one with it.” He could sense her beginning to relax now. “Mold your body. You no longer have a foot, you have a paw. Your leg has become a hind leg. Your arm is your foreleg. Your nose is a snout.” He let his voice drone slowly on, observing the swift, subtle changes as her beautiful features lengthened and her muscles relaxed into the shape of her wolf.

  Odessa opened her eyes, blinking at him before dropping onto all fours. She was a stunning wolf. Her pelt was mostly coal black, but that spear shape of pure white down between her eyes and onto her muzzle highlighted the light blue of her eyes. She prowled around him, nudging him with her snout, clearly impatient for him to join her and Lowell shook himself.

  Lowell didn’t need any reminders of how to shift. For him it was as quick and easy as blinking and as natural as breathing. A second later, his huge Arctic wolf towered over Odessa, resting his snout on her back. Pure white and muscular, Arctics were bigger and stronger than Siberians. This wasn’t a test of power, but if it had been there would be no doubt about the winner.

  The Siberian female nudged the Arctic male again, showing him the direction they needed to take, before breaking into a run. He fitted his strides to hers, slowing his pace so she could lead the way and stay at his side. Her dark head reached his pale shoulder and his long limbs outreached hers. But this was her homeland and she grew in confidence as she ran, scenting the air and skirting fallen tree stumps. The canopy overhead grew denser. The blue of the sky appeared to have been almost completely covered by the dark branches that stretched across it. In their wake, trees creaked, and the sounds of forest life stilled. The wolves felt eyes upon them as nervous watchers observed their progress through this rich habitat. Scurries and flurries of movement ebbed and flowed around and above them, but the wolves ignored the temptation to hunt for the time being. Single-mindedly, they continued until the female paused on a high, snow-dusted ridge.

  She was breathing hard as she looked down on the scenery below. There was undulating Siberian forest as far as the eye could see. The Arctic came to stand beside her on the edge of the rock, taking in the view upon which her icy eyes were fixed. He could sense her distress. Below them, a plume of black smoke disturbed the beauty of the scene.

  * * *

  They shifted back as they approached the burning building. The acrid smell was out of place in the freshness of the forest and Odessa wrinkled her nose.

  “This happened recently.” Lowell took in the scene with a swift glance around. “Stay here while I check it out.”

  “I’m coming with you.” It was hard to be authoritative when they were both naked, but she did her best. Part of the problem was that she wanted to yield to Lowell on this. Odessa’s instincts were crying out to let him be the alpha, to put her in her place. Because she really didn’t want to see what was inside that building. She tried to tell herself it was her brain’s natural reaction to her body’s fear. To the heart-pumping, sweat-making, gut-churning that had been her initial reaction to what she was seeing. But this was the Siberian headquarters. Her pack was in there . . . what was left of it.

  Lowell’s eyes narrowed, and she saw him weighing up the situation. “Okay, but stay close.”

  “I was planning on it.”

  The headquarters had been a typical Soviet building, designed for function rather than style. Long and low, it was built from an ugly gray concrete that jarred with the beauty of the encircling forest. No attempt had been made to match it to its surroundings. Ironically, now that it was burned, its charred walls blended more closely with the forest than ever before.

  Odessa led Lowell to the entrance. The solid wooden doors were blackened and charred and swung open easily when she pushed them. With the feeling of dread mounting, and her heartbeat thudding in her ears, she stepped inside.

  “Although the Siberian packs live all over this vast region, my father built this place so that he could train his fighters here.” Her voice echoed in the empty corridor. Residual smoke stung her eyes and tingled in her nostrils. “As people drove deeper into our territory, my father believed we needed to be prepared to fight.”

  “He also trained them so he could take over the territory belonging to other werewolves.” Lowell moved ahead of her, checking the rooms that led off the corridor, they were all empty. All burned-out shells. “Santin’s long-term plan was for the Siberians to wipe out the Arctics and move into our lands.”

  Odessa bit her lip. She was starting to accept that Lowell knew more about her father than she did. “I didn’t know that. It is not an ambition I share.” She wasn’t about to declare a truce with the Arctics, but it mattered to her that Lowell should know she wasn’t planning the destruction of his species.

  After a few yards, they couldn’t follow the corridor any further because the roof had fallen in. Smoke rose from the charred mass of beams that blocked their way. Flickering orange embers were an indication of just how recent the fire was.

  Lowell gazed around at the windowless corridor with its low ceiling. “Is there another entrance?”

  “We need to go back outside.”

  The bright light of the forest was a welcome contrast to the gloomy interior of the building. Odessa drew some welcome fresh air into her lungs. She wanted to move her feet, but she couldn’t. Her mind was blank and then she was falling. It was that feeling just before she went to sleep and something jerked her awake. Falling but never hitting the ground. She was never going to stop falling . . .

  Strong arms came around her, holding her close and she clung to them, steadying herself. “I don’t know what just happened.”

  Lowell’s voice had a calming effect on her and she allowed it to wash over her. “It’s the shock, and maybe the smoke as well. Take a moment to get over it.”

  She rested her forehead on the firm muscles of his chest, breathing in his scent. How had this happened? How, when her world was going to hell around her, had this man had become her anchor? In that moment, it didn’t matter. He grounded her and supported her. Would she be able to do this without him? She liked to think so, but she was glad she didn’t have to.

  Squaring her shoulders, she drew away from Lowell before leading him around to the side entrance of the building. There was less damage here and the door was intact. Odessa tapped in the security code on the panel at the side of the door and pushed it. It didn’t open easily and she frowned.

  As she began to push harder, Lowell put a hand on her arm. “Wait. This could be a trap.” He scanned the building. There was a line of undamaged windows on either side of the door. “What are these rooms?”

  “This is the accommodation block. Those are the bedrooms.”

  Lowell walked along, checking the windows. When he found what he was looking for, he stopped and went into the forest, returning with a large, flat stone. Using this as a lever under one corner of the partly open window, he applied pressure on it until the frame gave way and he was able to pry it fully open. In one agile movement, he sprang over the ledge and was inside.

  After a few moments, he reappeared in the window. “All clear.” He held out his hands to lift Odessa through.

  When she was clear of the window frame, Odessa looked around. There had been no special treatment for the leader, and she had stayed in one of these rooms on the few occasions she had been here. It was a stark military box, containing a bed and a wardrobe. Lowell was already opening the wardrobe and throwing the contents on the bed. Pu
lling on sweatpants and a T-shirt that stretched tight over his muscles, he grimaced.

  “They will be too big for you, but it’s better than nothing.”

  Odessa found a pair of shorts with a drawstring waist. Cinching them tight enough so they didn’t fall off, she pulled on a T-shirt that hung almost to her knees. The clothes were clean, although they smelled of smoke, but at least this way they weren’t going naked into the unknown.

  “Ready?”

  She nodded and Lowell opened the door a fraction. When he was satisfied with what he was seeing, he opened it fully, beckoning Odessa to his side. This corridor was narrower than the previous one and, although the tang of smoke was strong, the fire had not reached it. There were no windows, but they could see their way along it through the skylights set at regular intervals in the low roof.

  When they reached the door where Odessa had tried to get in, the reason why it wouldn’t open became apparent. A man’s body was on the floor, pressed up against the lower panel. Lowell crouched and turned him over. He was a Siberian and his sightless blue eyes gazed up at them. His throat had been ripped out.

  “Do you know him?” Lowell looked up at Odessa, who was staring at the dead man in shock. She had seen enough wolf kills in her life, so why did this one make her nauseous?

  “His name is Ivan. He was one of the guards.”

  Lowell rose, confirming what she already knew. “This was a wolf attack.”

  Odessa moved closer to him. “So the fire wasn’t an accident?” She supposed she had been clinging to a vain hope that it might have been.

  “It doesn’t look that way.” He took her hand. “Let’s find out.”

  They continued along the corridor, moving in the direction where it would meet up with the main part of the building. As they walked, Odessa became aware of a familiar scent. One that should have been welcome to her, but that was out of place. It was the warm, coppery tang of blood. Lowell lifted his head, sniffing the air as he caught it at the same time.

  “Is this where the fighters eat?” He stopped walking.

  Odessa shook her head. “There is a separate building where the hunters bring the fresh kills. The entire pack meets there for communal meals.”

  “So we shouldn’t be smelling blood here?” He tilted his head again. “And we especially shouldn’t be smelling a lot of it?”

  Fear began to track its way down Odessa’s spine like an icy finger. “No.” The blood was overpowering now. As if a huge kill had taken place. But instead of attracting her, it was repulsing her. There could only be one reason for that. “It’s werewolf blood, isn’t it?”

  Chapter Six

  The churning feeling in Lowell’s gut had been increasing since they entered the building. It was growing out of control now. Odessa was right. It had to be werewolf blood they smelled. That was the only explanation for the sense of repulsion they were experiencing. Under normal circumstances, blood would be one of his favorite scents.

  “What is at the end of this corridor?”

  “The recreation room. Then the corridor joins the main block, the one we entered first.” She placed her hand in his and he glanced down at it. It was a simple gesture, but coming from Odessa it held a world of meaning. His heart gave an unexpected leap, one he didn’t have time to stop and examine.

  They continued the few feet along the corridor until they reached the open door of the recreation room. Odessa gave a cry and turned her head into Lowell’s shoulder. The source of the smell was immediately obvious. The room was like a scene from a nightmare. It was piled high with dead bodies. Blood splashed the walls and pooled on the floor. A brief glance told Lowell all he needed to know. These men had all been killed in the same way. They had been attacked by wolves.

  Odessa was trembling all over and he held her close against him, trying to do the impossible. To soothe her. At the same time his mind was racing. He needed to find out what had happened here, but his first thought was for her safety. If the intention was to cause damage to the Siberians, Odessa, their leader, was at risk. This attack was recent. Whoever did it could still be close by.

  “Let’s keep moving.”

  She didn’t seem to be aware of what he was saying, so he placed an arm around her waist and propelled her along with him. After a few yards, the corridor joined the wider one at a point just past the fallen ceiling. Lowell paused, looking around. There was no sign of any movement, but his sharp ears caught a faint sound. He waited and it came again. It was a soft, anguished groan, coming from his right.

  “What is along here?” He pressed his lips to Odessa’s ear, whispering the question.

  “Isaak’s office.” She kept her own voice low, not so deep in shock that she didn’t understand the need for caution.

  Keeping close to the wall, he led her toward the source of the noise. When they reached the open office door, Lowell motioned for Odessa to stay back, before taking a quick glance around the door frame. Isaak was lying on the floor in a pool of blood. There was no one else around, and Lowell risked stepping into the room.

  As soon as Isaak saw him, his lips curled back in a snarl. “Have you come back to finish the job?”

  Odessa followed Lowell into the office, dropping to her knees beside her beta. His injuries were horrible. As well as deep bite marks to his throat, there were claw marks on his face and arms. The front of his shirt was slashed and stained red.

  “Who did this?” Odessa’s voice shook with sadness and anger.

  Isaak kept his eyes fixed on Lowell. “If you harm her—” He broke off, a spasm of pain twisting his features.

  “He is here to help,” Odessa said.

  Isaak attempted to laugh, but it turned into a desperate wheezing sound. “Help? Have you seen what those bastards did to our pack?”

  She sat back on her heels. “We saw the recreation room. Tell us who did it, Isaak.”

  He raised a shaking hand, one finger pointing determinedly at Lowell. “He did it. Him and his fucking brotherhood.”

  “No.” Odessa shook her head. “Lowell has been with me for the last thirty-six hours.”

  “Cameras.” Isaak seemed to be fading fast, but he managed to croak out the word.

  “Will they still work? Surely the system will have been damaged by the fire.”

  Lowell went to the desktop computer and checked the display on the screen. It seemed the closed-circuit television had stopped recording just before the fire. When Odessa joined him and pressed the rewind button, they watched together in shock as seven figures appeared on the screen. Six others and Lowell himself approached the building. The members of the Brotherhood of the Midnight Sun were all there. Lowell, Wilder, Samson, Madden, Sebastian, Vigo, and Jenny. Even though the images were black and white, they were unmistakable with their white-blond hair and their muscular physique. Apart from Jenny, of course, who was lean and lithe in comparison to her male colleagues.

  They were laughing and joking as they broke down the door. Once inside, they shifted, dropping into a familiar attacking crouch and working together to systematically slaughter the Siberians.

  Lowell looked at the time on the recording. “This was happening as we were driving from Yakutsk. Apart from the fact that I was with you, you know I spoke to Samson when we were in Moscow. He was in Alaska. I’m sure his cell phone records can prove that. There was no way he could have got here in that time. Whoever did this, it must be the same person who faked you dumping chemicals in the Arctic and faked me planting a bomb at Santin Creative.”

  Odessa’s eyes were huge and terrified. “They want us at war with each other again. They are not going to stop until that happens, are they?”

  “Not unless we make them.”

  “How will we do that?” She returned to kneel next to Isaak, holding his hand as she tried to find a way to ease his pain.

  “There’s only one way I can think of, and it involves bringing some friends of mine along to help.”

  * * *

  I
saak lived for another half an hour. In the end, his death was a relief from the terrible pain he was suffering. When Odessa lowered his body to the floor of his office, she felt as if someone had taken a knife to her world and was slowly and painfully shredding it apart. Her limbs were numb and her brain refused to function properly.

  “You want me to come back to Alaska with you and meet the members of the Brotherhood of the Midnight Sun? The Arctic werewolves who killed my father?”

  Lowell was seated on the edge of Isaak’s desk and he took hold of her hands, drawing her to him. “Yes.”

  “I can’t. It would be a betrayal of all I am.” Her lips felt stiff and, when she spoke, the words sounded stilted and expressionless. As if I don’t care instead of caring so much I don’t know what to do with my feelings.

  “If we don’t work together on this, someone is going to destroy both our packs.” Lowell’s voice was gentle. “There will be no going back from that.”

  She gave a shaky laugh. “Look around you. It may be too late. It may have already happened here.”

  “Once word of this massacre gets out, other Siberians will want revenge. It won’t matter what you do, Odessa. There will be factions who will take things into their own hands.”

  She shivered. “How will they know?” She pointed at the monitor on Isaak’s desk. “No one except us has seen that film.”

  Lowell ducked his head so he could look her in the eye. “Do you really believe that?”

  She bit her lip, remaining silent for long moments. He was right. That video wasn’t intended for those closed-circuit monitors. It had been made for a wider audience. The feeling of horror inside her kept on growing. She shook her head. “No.”

  Lowell was right, of course. A copy of that manufactured footage of the brotherhood slaughtering the Siberian fighters would already be on its way to whoever would be most incensed by it . . . if it hadn’t already arrived. The person, or people, behind this would use those images to cause the maximum destruction. That footage was too valuable to remain hidden. The brutal war between the Arctics and the Siberians had never ended, but there had been a lull since Santin’s death. It was about to explode with renewed violence.