Storm Wolf

by Jane Godman

  “I can imagine. My mother wouldn’t take kindly to a stranger coming into her house.” She could picture Emina’s outrage.

  “There was more than one stranger. There were at least three people here.” Samson tilted his head. “The anger soon became fear. I’m sensing a fight. It must have been a desperately uneven one.”

  Odessa swallowed hard. “Can you tell what happened next?”

  Samson moved toward the door. “The scent is stronger here.”

  Odessa led him outside. Beyond the rear of the house, the ramshackle outbuildings clung to the base of the mountain like children clustering around their mother’s skirts. Samson pointed to a series of deep, dark gouges in the ground. “Something, or someone, has been dragged across this patch of ground very recently.”

  He dropped into a crouch, frowning as he sniffed the air. His face was puzzled as he scanned the area around the gouge marks.

  “What is it?” Odessa hadn’t thought it was possible for her dread to increase any further. She found she was wrong.

  Samson shook his head. “This scent. I’ve only smelled it once before.” When his gaze took in the other brotherhood members it was tinged with confusion. “When I was tracking Fenrir.”

  Chapter Twelve

  “But we know Fenrir is still imprisoned in the cave below Jotunheim.” Lowell said, in response to Samson’s statement that he could scent a being with the same aroma as Fenrir. “The goddess and Gunnar left him with his guards just a few days ago. They wouldn’t have taken any chances that he might escape.”

  Samson shook his head, an expression of distaste on his face. “I’m not suggesting Fenrir has escaped. I’m just telling you what I can smell. This scent reminds me of his. The strongest, most feral smell I have ever come across.”

  “Can you tell where the intruders took Odessa’s mother?”

  “No, the trail becomes a jumble of scent here and then it’s lost.”

  Lowell signaled to the others. He gestured to the area around the clearing. “Search the other houses in pairs.” He took Odessa’s hand. “We will find her.”

  Her eyes were huge and her face paler than ever as she turned to him. “She will fight and be angry, but she will also be afraid. I hate to think of that. Or that she may be hurt.”

  “Then don’t think of it. Concentrate on finding her instead.”

  She nodded, squaring her shoulders. While the others began a systematic search of the run-down houses, Odessa led Lowell beyond the clearing and into the woods. Following a sharply twisting upward path, they were soon climbing toward a ridge where they would be able to look down on the strange little community of deserted houses.

  “Maybe from above we will get a better sense of what happened.”

  “Now you’ve had time to think about it, did you ever see any signs that Serena had an obsession with you?” Lowell asked.

  “No.” Odessa didn’t hesitate with her answer. “She was friendly toward me, but not overly so. We got on well. I would even have said I liked her and we had a lot in common. If anything . . .” She shrugged. “It doesn’t matter now.”

  “Go on. Every detail is important. No matter how small, it may be something that will give us the clue to unwind this tangle.”

  “It sounds foolish, but I always thought Alexei had a thing for me. He wasn’t open about it, but there was something below the surface now and then. I did everything I could to discourage him.”

  They had reached the ridge now and were looking down on Emina’s house. Like the cottage in a fairy tale, it sat in the center of a clearing, the trees around it looming like sentinels. Fanning out around it, the other houses clustered close to the base of the ridge where they now stood. As they watched, Sebastian and Vigo emerged from one of the buildings and circled around it before entering another.

  Lowell frowned. “This is a fucking nightmare. Could Alexei have been lying to us all along when he blamed Serena? Yet Serena is the one who has come out here after your mother. And who is the person with her? The one who smells like Fenrir? And why did Alexei say he had seen Chastel last month?”

  “If we can find my mother, perhaps we will get the answers to all of those questions as well,” Odessa said. “I assume that Serena came here so I would follow. Placing my mother in danger was a guaranteed way to get my attention.”

  “But what happens next? What does she—or they—hope to gain from this?”

  Lowell was standing to one side of Odessa and slightly above her on the ridge. As she turned her head to look at him, he had a moment to register the look of shock on her face. Her mouth opened as if to issue a warning, but it was already too late for him to act on it. A crushing blow from behind drove him to the floor. He felt as though his skull had been caved in. Sticky warmth trickling down the back of his neck told him he was bleeding badly and dizziness overwhelmed him. Even so, Lowell was not an easy man to keep down. As his inner wolf surged to the surface and he struggled to get to his knees, something was thrown over his head.

  Instantly, his eyes stung and his nostrils burned. There was only one thing that could deliver that sort of instant, crushing hit to werewolf’s psyche. Silver. The cloth that had been draped over his head not only prevented him from seeing, it drained his strength. Starting at the top of his body, he could feel the life oozing out of him like toothpaste squeezed from the tube.

  “Odessa!” He tried to cry out, but the sound torn from his lips was almost a sob. A sharp kick to his ribs drove the breath from his lungs and left him gasping. As his captors dragged him away, he tried to struggle but his limbs were useless. His mind played one thought over and over on a loop. He had failed Odessa. Failed to save her . . . and failed to tell her he loved her.

  * * *

  Odessa struggled wildly against the two men who held her upper arms. “Where are you taking him?”

  She watched in despair as Lowell, still wearing only a towel around his waist, was hauled away, his bare feet stumbling, his head covered by a silver-embroidered cloth.

  She felt no surprise when Serena emerged from the trees, an almost-pleasant, slightly smug smile curving her lips. The throbbing in her right palm was a reminder that she couldn’t escape. She was marked. They would always be able to find her.

  “What happens to him needn’t concern you any longer.”

  Wild sobs tried to rise up in Odessa’s throat, threatening to choke her. Lowell needn’t concern her? He was everything to her. But if she showed that to Serena, would that make things worse for him? And there was something else on her mind . . .

  “Where is my mother?”

  Serena’s smile widened. “Don’t worry, you will be joining her very soon.”

  Anger whiplashed through Odessa, stiffening her spine and driving out the fear that had been holding her enslaved. Was Serena trying to tell her that Emina was already dead? “Don’t be cryptic with me. If you are going to kill me, get on with it.”

  The smile was quickly transformed into a snarl. “You don’t get to give the orders anymore, Ms. Santin.”

  “Is that what this is all about? You don’t like working for me?” Odessa raised her brows incredulously. “Because I have news for you. There are plenty of other jobs out there.”

  “You and your mother are two of a kind.” Serena’s lips drew back, showing her teeth. “She, too, has perfected the art of lying.”

  “I have no idea what you are talking about, so if you expect me to understand you I suggest you stop talking in riddles.” Odessa was growing tired of trying to guess what this was all about. Worried about her mother, desperately concerned about Lowell, she just wanted this over. Whatever “over” might mean.

  Serena’s hand snaked out so fast Odessa didn’t see it coming. The backhanded blow smeared her top lip across her teeth, splitting it and sending a trickle of blood down her chin. Intent on retaliation, Odessa lurched against the hands that held her. She gave a cry of anger when her captors prevented her from striking Serena in return.

/>   “I know he told you!” Serena’s voice was close to a screech. “He was my father, too. He wouldn’t lie to me. Not about something so important.” Her eyes were wild and she was panting.

  Odessa’s heart sank as a suspicion about the truth began to dawn on her. If the “he” Serena was talking about was Santin, not only was he capable of lying, there was a strong possibility that he had done so. Especially if it was about something that might prove troublesome. Santin had been a master of avoidance. And anyone who was prepared to put Santin on a pedestal as Serena appeared to be doing clearly didn’t know him very well.

  “Are you my sister?” It was impossible to inject any emotion into the words when her lips were swelling rapidly. Impossible to know what emotion she wanted to convey when faced with a woman whose sanity was clearly unraveling. Serena’s eyes were glittering wildly as she clenched and unclenched her fists. The transformation was so far from the cool, collected woman Odessa had worked alongside with for the last two years she might have been a different person.

  She knew she had hit on the truth. The obsession Serena had with her wasn’t sexual. It wasn’t jealousy. It wasn’t a case of a friendship crush. Serena was Santin’s secret daughter. She had been biding her time, waiting in the wings, convinced that Odessa knew about their relationship. Somehow what she saw between Odessa and Lowell in Florida had unbalanced her, tipped her over the edge from waiting and hoping into . . . Odessa looked into Serena’s eyes. Well, that looked a lot like hysteria.

  “Serena, you have to believe me. I knew nothing about this—”

  “Enough of this playacting. If you and your Arctic lover think you can replace me—the rightful heir to the Siberian leadership—with some half-breed Arctic bastard, you can think again.” Serena nodded to the two men. “Take her to the other one. We can finish them both together.”

  The other one? Odessa’s heart gave a leap. Did that mean her mother was still alive?

  One of the men spoke. “Killing her now is not what we agreed.”

  Serena’s demeanor changed. Caution penetrated her glittering rage. “You swore she would be mine.”

  “Not at the expense of the greater plan.” His tone was authoritative. Odessa attempted to turn to get a better look at him, but he casually cuffed her around the back of the head. “Keep your eyes forward, Siberian bitch.”

  Odessa bit her lip. By the greater plan was this man referring to the continuation of the war between the Arctics and the Siberians? If Serena killed Odessa now how would that change things? She supposed it would bring a temporary halt to the hostilities while the Siberians mourned their leader and chose someone to follow her. But that halt would provide only a short respite. There must be other plans that she was unaware of, plans that depended on her being alive. She supposed she should feel grateful, but, based on recent events, she somehow doubted those plans would be pleasant.

  “At least let me put her with her mother while we deal with the Arctic werewolves,” Serena said.

  “Very well, but remember, we need her alive. For now. Once we have no further use for her she is all yours.”

  The smile that lit Serena’s eyes at those words sent a shiver down Odessa’s spine.

  * * *

  Lowell was barely conscious. His senses had all but shut down and his body refused to function. Reality had narrowed to the restraining piece of cloth over his head. It acted like a prison cell, clouding his vision to the gray of institution walls. His captors hadn’t needed to tie his hands and feet. He wasn’t going anywhere. He had heard them joke about that as they threw him down on the ground in here. Here. Where was here? He didn’t know and it didn’t matter.

  There was no pain, but the gut-wrenching verdigris stench burned his nostrils and got right down inside his lungs meaning he could only take shallow breaths. As a human, he could deal with silver in small amounts. He hated the stuff, but he could get by with being close to it. Even put on a pretense that he was okay around it. This much of it touching his body? There was no way he could deal with this. On one level he wanted nothing more than to let sleep overwhelm him. It would be so nice to just give up. Give in. Drift away. On another level, he knew there was something he had to do. Something he had to fight for.

  Silver. Can’t fight this. Not worth trying.

  Ice-chip eyes came into his mind. Santin? No. Despite the numbing cloth over his head, he forced himself to concentrate. Odessa! She needed him. He had to get out of this mess for her sake.

  Lowell tried to make sense of his surroundings. The roughness against his naked back and hard, cold surface under his buttocks told him he was slouched against a rocky wall. Maybe a cave? Defeat threatened to overwhelm him. It doesn’t matter where I am. I have a fucking silver cloth over my head. I’m never getting out of here.

  It was cloth, not metal. That was the difference. Cloth could be moved. Slowly, he attempted to move his head. The effort almost suffocated him. He felt like he was walking into a blizzard that was tearing the breath from his lungs. He kept those icy blue eyes in his mind. He had to keep going. Odessa needed him. And he needed to tell her something. Right now he couldn’t remember what it was. He just knew his life depended on it.

  He tilted his head another fraction. If he could have made a sound, his inner wolf would have whimpered pitifully. Another tiny tilt. Another mental whimper. He repeated the cycle, resting in between, his body resisting the action. His brain constantly trying to convince him it wasn’t worth the effort. His wolf crying out against his human. We can’t fight the silver!

  Finally, he felt the cloth slide from his head to his shoulder. It was still in contact with his body, still weakening him, but no longer working on his brain. His thoughts cleared and he could see. The gray mist faded from his eyes. Lowell bent his head, breathing deep, taking a moment to rest.

  He had been right. He was in a cave, but not in very deep. Light from the cave entrance penetrated the gloom and showed him his surroundings. His captors had been so sure of the effect of the silver, they had left him alone. Lowell’s lips twisted into a wry smile. Never misjudge an Arctic.

  Now let me see if I can move my hands.

  It wasn’t easy. With a series of groans that sounded like the soundtrack to a bad porn movie, he managed, after a few attempts, to lift his hands and thrust the cloth aside. Once it was free of his body, the change was remarkable. He could still feel its effect, but it was no longer mind-numbing. He could actually string together a few coherent thoughts.

  Get out of here. Away from the silver. Find Odessa.

  That sounded like a plan. Glad to find his legs worked, he stumbled out of the cave. Ah. He paused, looking around him. He was deep in the forest. Although the white peak was visible, he had no idea how close he was to Emina’s home. He could shift and scent his way back there, but depending how far he was from the clearing, it would take time to get back to Odessa. And who knew what might be happening in his absence? A plan was all very well, but when you had no idea where you were, you needed more than planning. You needed help.

  Samson? Thank God for telepathy.

  Lowell? I’ve been trying to contact you for the last hour. Where the fuck are you?

  I have no idea . . . and those bastards have Odessa.

  That’s bad. The voice in his head sounded pissed off. But we have a few other problems as well.

  * * *

  Odessa was exhausted from struggling against the ropes that bound her, but it was to no avail. She had been trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey, and now she was being lowered by a rope into the dark abyss of the disused well. The circle of sky above her was getting smaller and smaller and her confidence was diminishing along with it. She had been hopeful that, wherever they imprisoned her, she could at least try to escape. Here? She wasn’t even sure calling for help would be worth the energy.

  Various parts of her body had bumped against the narrow walls repeatedly during her descent. Now her tethered feet and then her buttocks connected abruptl
y and painfully with the ground beneath her and, startled, she cried out. The rope came tumbling down on top of her. Disoriented, she lay in the pitch-black darkness, gathering her thoughts. A soft movement close by told her she was not alone and she stiffened.

  “Who is there?” It was a tentative whisper, but Odessa knew the voice.

  “Mother?”

  “Odessa?” The croak in Emina’s voice told its own story about how many recent tears she had shed. “Oh, no. What have they done to you?”

  By shuffling around in the darkness the two women managed to move closer together. Odessa quickly realized that her mother was tied in the same way that she was. Their wrists were tied behind their backs and their ankles were bound together.

  “If we lie back to back, I might be able to untie your hands.” It was a long shot in the coal-black darkness, but it gave her a focus other than worrying about Lowell and what Serena’s next move might be. With fingers that felt like they belonged to someone else, she got to work on the knot at her mother’s wrists. “Tell me what happened.”

  “It was all so fast.” Emina’s usually strong voice trembled, making her sound suddenly old and frail. Even though it was dark, Odessa closed her eyes against the emotions that stormed through her. You did this to her Serena. And when I get out of here, there will be no hiding place for you. She looked up at the disk of light at the top of the well. When she got out? Shouldn’t that be if she got out? “I’d been out hunting and when I returned, she was there in my kitchen. This woman I didn’t know was sitting at my table.” A hint of outrage appeared and Odessa welcomed it. Her mother sounded more like herself now. “I ordered her to leave my home and she laughed at me. Can you believe it, Odessa? She dared to laugh at me!”

  Odessa pictured the smug smile on Serena’s face. “I can believe it.”

  How had she worked alongside the other woman for so long and not seen below the mild-mannered surface for what she really was? Because there were no clues. Florida was the trigger. Me and Lowell, that was what tipped her over the brink into this abyss. She saw what I couldn’t. That I was in love with him even then.