Unstoppable

by May Dawson

  Frederick was on one snowblazer, but he wasn’t alone. My old friend Warren Campbell, who had tried to arrest me for my so-called crimes, rode on the second snowblazer, just behind him and to his right.

  Both of them wore goggles to protect their eyes from the spray of snow, but I still recognized the way they held themselves and Fred’s tuft of stubborn red hair sticking out under his uniform cap. After all, I’d shared a room with the man all my life, from the long row of beds at the orphanage to our room in the house of rebel magicians. I should recognize him anywhere. I ran my hand over neck gaiter covering my mouth and jaw, making sure it was still in place. I wasn’t eager to have to change faces again, because it took an obvious toll on my travel companions; Echo was familiar to Maddie, at least.

  Warren came to a stop, and Frederick stopped and leaned, canting the snowblazer to one side with his dramatic turn. The runners slid to a stop across the snow, leaving a wide arch in the untouched snow.

  Over the whine of the engines, Warren called, “Are you sure you saw him? This isn’t another one of your wild imaginings like at Eastbrick?”

  “I think I’d know Silas,” Frederick muttered back, almost too quiet to hear over the blazer; he nodded at Warren. “Even without seeing his face.”

  “Good,” Warren said. “I still want that bounty.”

  He flashed a cruel smile at Frederick. “And I know how much you want Belly.”

  Belly. Frederick’s stupid nickname for Isabelle; she couldn’t break him of the habit. Was she still at Elegiah?

  Fred would do anything for her. Even betray the Rebel Magicians. And I was supposed to be willing to kill him for that.

  But not today. I could have today to show mercy to an old friend, as long as he stayed out of my way, and I’d still be a rebel magician. Keen wouldn’t approve, but then, she wasn’t here.

  Not that Fred would necessarily appreciate my brand of mercy. My fingers worked, weaving my spell, and as if he sensed something, he suddenly looked up toward me.

  Too late. I whistled to get Warren’s attention too, and as his head jerked up, I was already leaping from the tree toward him.

  Warren’s eyes widened. Fred threw up his hand, sending magic sizzling through the air in my direction—rude, I’d given him a Christmas present every year since we were four years old—but I shielded myself, deflecting it. His magic arched harmlessly back into the pines, blistering the needles off a tree overhead so they rained down to earth. A scorched scent filled the air as I slammed into Warren, knocking him off the snowblazer.

  As I flicked my fingers at Fred, he flew backwards off the other blazer. I gripped the handlebars, heard the engine whine as I released the brake. Shit, it had been a long time since I’d last ridden one of these.

  The other snowblazer sailed smoothly through the trees ahead, guided by my magic, but the one I was trying to control by gripping the handlebars weaved back and forth, sending a spray of snow over Fred.

  “Sorry,” I shouted at him as I finally got control of the thing and sped off.

  Fred was still picking himself off the ground, wiping snow out of his mouth as he sat up. Warren finally got himself together and tried to send a blast of magic at me, and I heard Fred curse and roll to one side as the spell rebounded off my shield.

  I wasn’t actually sorry.

  I raced off to join Maddie and company. Warren and Frederick were probably operating as an isolated patrol unit; help would ride to their rescue, but it would take time.

  How long did I have until reinforcements arrived and they were no longer moving on foot? Was it long enough to get my friends safely into the city and hidden?

  I did the math, then leaned forward, ran the blazers a little faster.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Maddie

  There was a faint, strange scent in the air. My nostrils flared, trying to get a better sense of the smell. Something unpleasantly musky. Beastly.

  “What’s wrong?” Rafe demanded.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “I smell something funny.”

  It reminded me of when my sense of smell was more keen. Jensen and Rafe both glanced around, nostrils flaring as they inhaled deeply. Jensen tilted his head back, his golden eyes glowing; it made me miss his amber-eyed wolf.

  Ever since we all lost our ability to shift—and our wolfish senses—I missed how my men smelled to me. And suddenly I had to wonder… I took a step forward, closer to Rafe. My heart was beginning to beat faster with hope, even as I told myself not to expect anything.

  He glanced down at me curiously, his brows rising above those dark eyes as I rested my hand lightly on his coat. None of us spoke; we were all listening intently in case that scent meant trouble.

  “I don’t smell anything,” Jensen said.

  But when I inhaled, I breathed in the forest around us—the clean notes of freshly fallen snow, pine needles—the faint odor of fur and life, of the animals hidden in the trees, the scent of Rafe who stood so near me.

  Not the spice-and-sandalwood notes of his aftershave that had been all I had of Rafe lately; no this, was the deeper scent of his body that I had loved as a wolf. To me, Rafe’s body itself smelled like pine sap and the salty breeze off the ocean; when he wasn’t mine I used to wish he’d shift close to me again so I could smell him, and now that he was mine, I inhaled deeply.

  I raised my gaze to Rafe’s very perplexed and slightly irritated face, then looked at Jensen, who waited with his arms crossed over his chest.

  “I’m getting my senses back,” I said.

  Jensen’s lips parted in surprise, in a hint of a smile, but Rafe asked, “Are you sure?”

  The silence of the trees around us was broken by the sound of branches snapping, close by.

  I said, “Yep. Sure.”

  The musky scent was in my nostrils stronger now. Something big.

  A white birch a dozen yards into the forest swayed, then swayed harder, knocking into a pine tree and dusting the snow from its needles.

  “Time to go,” I said urgently. I didn’t know what that was, but I had a feeling it was big. Hopefully it wasn’t both big and hungry.

  The three of us headed quickly but quietly through the forest, drawing our swords as we moved.

  But suddenly the thing came thundering behind us. Branches cracked, splitting the hush of the snow-covered world. A bird nearby squawked, and a family of birds took flight from the trees, soaring up into the cloudless blue sky.

  An enormous white bear burst into view through the trees. Black eyes locked on us and it snarled, lips peeling back from its teeth.

  “Did we do something to piss off this bear that I’m not aware of?” Jensen demanded. “I thought bears didn’t attack for no reason unless they had cubs or—”

  “I don’t think we’re at the top of the food chain here,” I said. The bear charged toward us, giant paws eating up the pure snow between us.

  “If it were hunting, it would have crept up on us,” Rafe frowned as he changed his grip on his sword, swinging it to one side, then gripping it two-handed at the ready.

  “You can’t fight a bear with a sword,” I said. This was ridiculous; this was not how our story ended, all of us splattered in the woods by some rabid, overgrown polar bear that seemed to hate shifters.

  Wait. The bear was acting irrationally, and maybe it did hate shifters. Maybe it saw me as an enemy in particular.

  “Pretty sure we can. Guess we’re about to find out if I’m right.” Rafe held his ground as the bear charged toward us.

  Or toward me.

  I dove to one side, wondering if the bear would follow. There were shifters in the Fae world too; maybe there were shifters here too. Silas would have mentioned them, but maybe even he didn’t know they existed. If there were wolf shifters here, they might very well be the bear’s natural enemy.

  The bear changed direction, lumbering toward me. I didn’t want to hurt a bear; it was just another animal, trying to live its best woodland life. But ano
ther part of me, something deep and snarling and dangerous when my pack was threatened, felt very differently.

  The shift had always been hard for me. I always had to work for it. But now my muscles began to swell, began to change.

  Fear flooded my chest as I dropped to my knees, then my hands slammed into the snow. I caught a glimpse of the guys’ worried faces, and then my back arched.

  I let out a gasp that was a half a sob of pain as my claws ripped free of my fingers, the flesh healing as soon as the claws were free. The strange sensation rippled through my face, the tug at flesh and skin that turned suddenly into pain as bad as being hit with a crowbar. Then the pain faded, replaced by a burst of adrenaline, and I had a mouthful of sharp teeth and I was snarling as I looked up and found the bear.

  I roared back as I leapt in front of the guys. I barely managed to look at them, focused on the bear, but I heard Jensen’s “Oh shit” dully, as if at a distance.

  The bear swiped at me with its paw and I dived in, snapping at its leg. When the bear tried to wrap both its arms around me, I was already sliding between its legs, coming up on the other side. It whirled, too late, and I slammed my weight into it. The bear fell over with a thud that echoed through the forest.

  I went to leap onto the bear, ready to tear its throat apart. Pack. I’d do anything for my pack.

  But the bear was suddenly rolling away frantically, kicking up snow with its powerful legs as it raced through the woods.

  “Hey, Maddie.” It was Jensen’s warm voice. He knelt next to me, reaching out a hand. “Hey, it’s me. It’s all right.”

  I shifted back and then found myself lying in the snow, my clothes in tatters. Jensen scooped me up while I was still shaking from the change, cradling me against his chest, and Rafe gathered up the shreds of my parka to cover me with. He was already unzipping his own coat.

  There was a distant whining noise, and I turned my head, trying to listen to it more closely.

  Rafe paused with his hand on his zipper, watching me listen. “What now?”

  “I don’t know,” I admitted. We didn’t know anything about this world; we desperately needed Silas.

  Two enormous, all metal snowmobiles breeched the trees. One had no rider, but Silas was on the second, the wind ruffling his blond hair.

  He came to a stop, jumped off and frowned as he took in how Jensen was holding me. “What did I miss?”

  “Maddie can shift again and she scared off a bear. What did we miss with you?” Jensen said without missing a beat.

  “Ran into some old friends and took their vehicles. We should be in Quorum in an hour.” He gave me a worried look. “Good thing, or Maddie will get cold.”

  “Maddie will survive,” I told him.

  “Can you two shift?” Silas demanded, looking from Jensen to Rafe.

  “We haven’t had a lot of time to test the theory,” Rafe said impatiently. “How did you get lost?”

  Silas looked back at him blankly. “I didn’t say I got lost. Are you going to try?”

  Rafe’s jaw was tight, and suddenly I had the feeling that Rafe didn’t want to try—he didn’t want to get his hopes up, he didn’t want to fail to shift all over again.

  But Rafe nodded curtly. He never shied away from what had to be done.

  Jensen set me down carefully on my feet. Then he took a step back gave himself a shake.

  The look on Jensen’s face grew strained, and I knew he was already trying—and it wasn’t working. He closed his eyes, tension rippling across that handsome face, muscle cording in his neck.

  He opened his eyes. Rafe was still attempting to shift, his brow furrowed beneath dark hair that waved in the breeze.

  Jensen couldn’t hide the disappointment on his face when he shook his head. Then he rested his hand lightly on my back and said, “I’m glad you can shift, babe.”

  I knew he meant it, and I also knew he was probably trying really hard to be a good person—to be happy for me when he was upset for himself.

  “If my abilities came back, then yours must eventually too,” I said.

  Rafe opened his eyes, his own expression aggravated. “Well, we don’t know that. You’ve always been something—”

  “Special,” Silas cut in, over whatever Rafe had been about to say. It might have been special, or it might have just been different.

  Rafe quirked an eyebrow, but let it pass.

  I thought of my quick, playful wolf—the one who hadn’t run from me even in the seconds before I slit her throat—and swallowed. I’d missed her so much. But it didn’t feel right if I had my wolf back and my men didn’t. We were supposed to be a pack.

  “We’ll figure it out,” Rafe said, gripping my shoulder for a second as if he knew what a loss that was for me. But I had no right to be disappointed when I could shift and they still couldn’t.

  “Let’s get to the city,” Rafe said. “Mission first. Then we can figure this out.”

  His lips pursed to one side as he added, “After all, Silas promised us an in-and-out mission. Right? Twenty-four hours, tops?”

  Silas shrugged.

  As I took a step toward the contraptions that Silas had rode in on, I felt something warm and cozy settle over my shoulders; it carried Rafe’s signature scent. I looked back to find him settling his coat over my shoulders, and I shook my head. “I’ll be fine. You don’t need to be gallant.”

  “I’m not being gallant. I’m being bossy. Wear the damned coat.” His hand lingered on my lower back, and he dropped a quick kiss in my hair before he strode away toward one of the vehicles. “Mount up. Let’s get to Quorum.”

  I desperately wanted to talk to Silas, so I settled in behind him. Jensen gave me a look as if I’d personally betrayed him, but didn’t say a word as he mounted the other sled, behind Rafe.

  “The snowblazers rely on magic. Do you want a tutorial on the snowblazer’s controls or are you—” Silas was cut off by the sound of Rafe starting the engine. “Going. I guess you’re going. Good luck.”

  Rafe and Jensen’s snowblazer wound back and forth across the clearing haphazardly—Jensen gave us a distinctly dour look that made me hold back a smile—then straightened out. The two of them shot off ahead of us, and we quickly followed after.

  For a few minutes, I took in the pines flashing by and the bright blur of the sun reflecting off the endless snow, and didn’t try to talk. I was worried about Silas; I couldn’t forget the way he’d stopped back on the platform, the look on his face. He had looked haunted.

  “Who was it on the platform, Silas?” I asked finally. Whatever was going on, it wasn’t just Silas’s business anymore; it was the whole team’s.

  For a second, I thought he was going to ignore me and pretend he hadn’t heard. The only sound was the whine of the Snowblazer and the soft sound of the rails moving over the powdery snow.

  Then he said, “I don’t want to talk about it yet.”

  “You know you’ll have to,” I said.

  “I know,” he said. “I will. I just need a moment.”

  He dared to look away from the flickering trees around us just for a second to look over his shoulder at me. “I didn’t think I’d feel anything coming back here.”

  He said that as if that’s what he’d hoped for.

  “We’ll get through it together,” I told him, resting my chin on his shoulder. “And then we’ll go home. Together.”

  “Of course,” he said, his voice as confident as ever, but his eyes were still troubled.

  As the Snowblazer whined beneath us and fat flakes of snow drifted steadily down, I realized for the first time that maybe Silas didn’t intend to go home with us. I wanted to talk to him about it, but he was still lost in thought, so I rested my cheek against the rough fabric of his coat and waited.

  It didn’t matter if I talked to him right then, when he was obviously preoccupied with whoever or whatever he’d seen on that platform. We belonged together. Surely Silas had to see that.

  I hoped.


  Chapter Seventeen

  Lex

  Watching Penn go out to fight for me was the worst feeling, one that flooded me with shame and helplessness. I couldn’t help him, and I couldn’t save my sister.

  Penn clapped my shoulder as he headed into the ring and gave me one of those laidback Penn grins—the kind that made Rafe grumble that we should toss his room again.

  Rosemary’s fingers grazed mine, and I looked over at her. Her face was pale and blotchy, but she lifted her chin high.

  “Lex,” she whispered. “I didn’t know what he did to you.”

  I wanted to believe her. Even though I’d wondered for years what she thought happened after the alpha’s men dragged me out of the house, as I fought them desperately. She must have known they hadn’t taken me out for ice cream. Had our parents convinced her that happened was right? Had she needed to believe that to survive? She hadn’t even been in her teens yet.

  If she was lying, she was still my little sister. I’d heard Rosemary apologize desperately plenty of times growing up, but I didn’t think she knew how to apologize honestly. But maybe this was as close as she could come.

  “It’s okay,” I told her. Her fingers brushed mine again, and I grabbed her hand. She looked up at me in surprise. We hadn’t held hands since we were little kids. “Even if you did, I still would have come back for you, Rosemary.”

  Her eyes welled with tears. “I shouldn’t have…”

  Shouldn’t have called me? Shouldn’t have put us both in danger?

  “It’s going to be okay,” I promised her with confidence I couldn’t feel.

  Penn pulled his shirt over his head, revealing sinewy muscle and colorful tattoos; he had sleeve tattoos on both arms and more tattoos across his shoulders and pecs. White bandages still stood out on the tanned skin that rippled over his chiseled abs. He looked confident and dangerous, but the grizzled man across from him was stripping too so that he could shift—which Penn couldn’t do.