Cold Spell Page 3

  Nic nodded. “Anabelle should have protected Peter, but instead, she mauled him, laughing the whole time. We put her in chains after that. Once Peter succumbed to his wounds, I did what was necessary.”

  He had killed Anabelle, but Jackie could tell it had pained him from the tone in his voice. This wasn’t a man who delighted in killing. He wouldn’t have done it if there was another way. Not like Bo.

  “David started showing signs the next morning,” Nic continued. “We didn’t take chances this time. Put him in silver bindings as soon as it started.”

  “Why didn’t you just kill David, too?” Bo shrugged.

  The ATV suddenly jerked to the side, the movement enough to shake the luggage loose and leave Jackie scrambling to brace herself.

  Nic slammed his foot on the brake and turned cold, gold glowing eyes on Bo. “I did not call Lou asking for killers.” His voice was as icy as the air outside. “I called asking for help. Killing Anabelle didn’t stop whatever is happening. Killing David won’t, either. I protect my pack. With my life, if I must.”

  The message was clear. Nic wasn’t going to let Bo take the easy way out and just kill anyone who started showing symptoms. Lou must’ve known that when he sent them, so why had he chosen to send his killers north instead of someone else?

  The tension inside the ATV was palpable. Jackie’s wolf rose, urged on by the dominance fight going on between Bo and Nic ever since the two had laid eyes on each other. If she didn’t break it up, there’d be blood.

  Jackie leaned forward enough that her head was between the seats in front of her, interrupting their little staring contest. “No one is questioning you, Nic.”

  “I am.”

  She gave Bo a stern glare.

  He crossed his arms and turned to look outside rather than at Nic.

  She turned back to address Nic. “How long has David not been himself?”

  Nic half closed his eyes. “Almost three days now. Anabelle turned violent about the third day. David’s in chains, though. The silver may slow the progression, but it’s also not something that’s kind to him. He’s taken sick because of the burns.”

  Jackie nodded and leaned back. “We’ll need to see him.”

  “Of course,” Nic said and got back on the road.

  Chapter Four

  N ic wasn’t sure why his wolf was out for blood suddenly. He worried as they pulled up to the house that maybe he’d begun to contract David and Anabelle’s madness. He hadn’t had such an uncontrollable urge to rip out someone’s throat since his teenage years. Then, he’d run with the Denali pack. The alpha there was strong and fierce, a good match for an unruly, hormonally charged young male like he’d been. How many times had Old Vernon tossed him on his back and bared teeth at him because he’d gotten into it with males twice his age over a pretty face? It was stupid, and he’d needed the strict guidance, but that phase was long behind him. Those urges should’ve long been tamed. Yet Jackie had set them all off again.

  Nic unbuckled and stole a glance at Jackie in the mirror. Her attention was focused on the house, the air about her dark and mysterious. She was a newcomer. Could be why. Not many new faces in Barrow.

  “Should I do a trick for you?” Jackie asked, smirking. “Since you’re staring, I thought I’d ask.”

  Nic jerked his eyes away and cleared his throat. “I was only thinking I hadn’t heard of you. I know Bo, but I’ve never heard of you before Lou said you’d be coming up. I have to trust you two with my pack’s well-being and I don’t even know who you are.”

  “No one’s asking you to trust us.” Bo stretched and opened the door, letting in all the cold air. “You just have to stay out of our way and let us do our job. Instruct your pack to do the same, and to answer our questions, and we won’t have any problems, will we?”

  Nic growled under his breath. This guy’s just a dick. A killer. He’s come thinking every problem can be solved with blood. The scent of death is all over him, and he doesn’t even seem to notice.

  He got out and went to open the door for Jackie, but she gripped the handle and pushed the door open before he could. So much for chivalry, he thought as she hauled out the heaviest of the suitcases.

  “Let me.” He held out a hand.

  She gave him a smile that was caught somewhere between mischievous and humored. “If you want to carry Bo’s luggage, that’s all you.” Jackie tossed the suitcase to him like it weighed nothing.

  He caught it and determined that it didn’t. What did Bo haul around in there, lead?

  Bo walked to the front door and waited, sniffing the air. “Do you smell anything?”

  Jackie lifted her nose to do the same where she stood. “Something. Not like anything I’ve ever smelled before, though. There’s definitely magick at work here.”

  Shrill laughter cut through the air. David’s.

  Nic pushed past Bo to go and open the door, dragging the suitcase behind him.

  Bare wood floors carried throughout the inside with no rugs or anything to break it up. Dead ahead, a scratched-up old coffee table stood on its last legs. On the other side of that was a small, worn sofa. Mandy sat there, staring into the television with her crochet hooks bobbing and weaving as she worked out her nervous energy on unsuspecting yarn. When she saw him enter, her face brightened with a tired smile. The smile quickly faded when she saw Bo and Jackie behind him.

  Nic made quick introductions and instructed her to go call the rest of the pack. He didn’t say it in front of his guests, but he’d need to brief them about Bo and tell them to steer clear if possible. The less they ticked off Lou’s headsman, the better.

  He finished by asking her, “Is Tara still upstairs?”

  Mandy’s face slackened with grief as she nodded. “I took her some tea a while ago and something to eat. She probably hasn’t touched it.”

  “Tara is David’s human mate,” Nic explained to Bo and Jackie.

  “Human mate,” Bo mumbled, his tone disapproving. “And people wonder why there are so few werewolves left. It ought to be a crime, mating with humans.”

  Nic bit his tongue. If Bo kept it up, he wasn’t sure how long he’d be able to tolerate comments like that.

  Bo sighed. “Well, we might as well have a look.”

  Nic led them to the stairs without stopping to introduce them to Bryce, who was in the kitchen starting dinner. It was good that he was cooking. Cooking was Bryce’s outlet, his therapy. Having him in the kitchen would ease some concerns and give the impression that things would continue as normal, something the pack desperately needed since the loss of Peter and Anabelle.

  The laughter got louder the higher they climbed and the stench of blood and silver burns heavier. At the top of the stairs, he turned only to stop walking a few paces in when he realized Bo had stopped to look at Jackie. Jackie’s attention was fixed on the empty bedroom at the top of the stairs.

  “Anabelle’s room,” Nic said.

  “It’s that smell again.” Jackie shook her head and set the curls on her shoulders flying loose. “The same one from outside.”

  Nic tried to catch a scent on the air, but came up empty. The only thing he could make out was the stink of David in the next room.

  “We’ll see if we can get a trail after.” Bo’s voice seemed to pull her attention away from whatever it was she smelled.

  Nic waited until he had their full attention before he rapped gently on the door and opened it.

  Tara looked worse than the last time he’d seen her. Her skin had turned a pale gray and her eyes were red from all the tears. The tray Mandy had brought up sat beside her, the burger and fries not even touched. The teacup sat beside her on the floor half-empty.

  “Tara, this is Bo and Jackie. They’re here to help.” Nic was thankful Tara wasn’t a werewolf or she would have sensed his doubt with that last statement.

  Tara rose and brushed delicate hands over worn jeans before offering a hand to Bo. “Thank you.”

  Bo ignored her ou
tstretched hand in favor of leaning over David. “Well, aren’t you a fine mess?”

  David laughed as if it were the funniest thing he’d ever heard. Then he lunged up, snapping his teeth at Bo. If the silver chains hadn’t been in place, he would have bitten right into Bo’s neck.

  Bo stood still, unperturbed. “These wounds are infected. You should have your doctor look at him.”

  Nic closed the door behind Jackie as she entered. “Our pack doctor is refusing to come now. He says David needs the hospital or to be locked up. There’s no way to do that safely. We tried treating his wounds, but he reacted violently, as you can see.”

  “He’s in pain.” Jackie spoke barely above a whisper, and yet everyone in the room stilled at her observation. Everyone, that is, except for David who never stopped laughing.

  Jackie pulled one of her gloves off and paced forward, arm outstretched. She let her hand hover over David’s body, an inch or two above him, and closed her eyes. “Magick. Darkness. Hunger. It’s like staring into the deepest depths of the Arctic Ocean, except there’s someone staring back. A reflection, broken like cracked ice.”

  David snapped at her and she retracted her hand.

  “Something or someone feeds from his pain,” Jackie announced.

  David threw his head back in mad laughter, laughing and cackling at such a rapid pace that it left him gasping. Nic wrinkled his nose at the new smell in the air of fresh waste and turned away as David arced his body and shook his head back and forth. His gasping became more desperate, but the laughter never stopped.

  “Do something!” Tara implored. She put a hand on David’s arm and gave Jackie a pleading look. “You have magick? Use it to help my husband.”

  Jackie lowered her head. “I don’t have any magick beyond what the Change affords me. I’m only better at sensing it than most.”

  David stopped laughing, prompting Nic to look back. David still wore a smile on his face, but he was too busy making a shallow rasping sound for any other sound to come out.

  “He can’t breathe!” Tara screeched. Her hands shook as she raised them to David’s face. His eyes looked panicked, but not being able to breathe didn’t stop him from snapping at her. She jerked her hands away. Tears raced freely down her cheeks. “Somebody do something!” But she must’ve known there was nothing anybody could do.

  David breathed his last breath and shuddered before he lay still. The smell of death became ever present in the room. Tara threw herself on David’s still chest and wept loudly.

  I failed. Nic lowered his head and closed his eyes, wishing he knew the words to say or the action to take to fix everything. I should have called sooner.

  A hand came down lightly on his shoulder. He looked up and into Jackie Wheeler’s brown eyes. “We’re going to find whatever’s behind this,” she promised. “Before it hurts someone else.”

  Her words rang with truth. Nic hoped she was right.

  Chapter Five

  B o opened his bag to take inventory. Knowing how harsh Northern Alaska could be this time of year, he hadn’t skimped on the essentials. He’d brought enough jerky and freeze-dried meat to last a six-day hike for two people and a dozen pairs of wool socks. In the snow, wet feet meant frostbite, and while he’d grow back an amputated toe with time and a little help from Lou, he’d rather not. For everything he’d brought with him, though, he’d forgotten his sleeping pills.

  It was just as well. Whatever was happening to the North Slope Borough pack was happening overnight and he intended to stay up and keep watch to find out what it was. The dreams that called to him without the aid of the pills wouldn’t be a problem if he could stay awake. If he fell asleep and woke up screaming and thrashing here, this alpha would use it as an excuse to undermine him, and he’d be right. Bo was getting too old for this shit. There were too many ghosts following him around, too many good men dead.

  “Forget something?”

  He lowered the lid of the suitcase to eye his daughter. Of all the people in the world, why was she the one he couldn’t read? It was her strange scent, he thought. She might be better with magick and numbers, but Bo knew the scent of emotion and she had always smelled so different than other wolves to him. Maybe it was because they were related. Then again, he knew he had at least one other child running around somewhere, a son. He hadn’t smelled so strange. When was the last time he saw that boy, anyway?

  “No,” he answered and closed the suitcase altogether.

  “You should know better than to lie to me, Bo.” Jackie moved in front of the full mirror and gripped her long, dark hair, hair she’d inherited from him, and pulled it into a messy ponytail held by a rubber band.

  The North Slope Borough alpha had agreed to put them up in his home and given them each a bedroom with a bathroom to share. The one he’d given to Bo was smaller and more rustic looking, which suited him just fine. He didn’t need the comfortable-looking queen bed he’d offered Jackie, nor did he need the wardrobe made of ancient hickory, the hand-sewn duvet or small library of books. Hell, he didn’t even need the big mirror that stood in the corner of his borrowed room, but apparently his daughter did.

  Bo put his hand on his hip and turned to address her. “And you should know better than to let an alpha dote on you, especially at the expense of your old man.”

  “He’s just being chivalrous. It’s not doting.” She turned away from the mirror and back to the twin-sized bed that had been meant for Bo to sleep in. She’d shed her warm sweater there and retrieved it now.

  “It is the very definition of doting, dear daughter. The word means to foolishly adore someone else. The boy knows your father has a blank check to execute him if I feel it’s necessary. Yet, aside from protecting his pack, I’d say his current secondary interest is in bedding you.”

  Jackie made a disgusted face. “Please. You’ve never been a father to me. Don’t try now. I can take care of myself, especially when it comes to men.”

  “So if he makes a play, you’re telling me you’ll let him down?”

  “I’m telling you it’s none of your business what I do in whose bed. Besides, I’m here to solve his problem, not crawl into his bed.”

  Bo turned back to his bed, plucked a knife from his discarded belt and ran his finger over the blade. “And if you should find the trouble in his bed after all?”

  “Then I won’t come crying to you about it. I’m a big girl and I can take care of myself.”

  Pride swelled in Bo’s chest. She might never call him Dad except to irritate him, but there was no denying she was his flesh and blood.

  “So when do you report in with Lou next on my progress?”

  Bo lowered the knife, his heart pounding out a new rhythm in his chest. Had she found out why Lou insisted on her going somehow? No, she’d spent most of the plane ride e-mailing and calling someone about their back taxes. This had to be a wild guess, though it was dangerously perceptive of her to make it. He could tell her the truth, he supposed, but he wasn’t ready. Not yet.

  “You mean when do you get your chance to listen in on our conversation so you can figure out what he’s up to?” He shrugged. “I don’t expect to report to him until this is done.”

  She crossed the room in a few quick steps to stand in front of him. She was taller than he was. That didn’t mean he had to tolerate her looking down at him like that. “I know he has some ulterior motive for bringing me up here. He’s never sent me out into the field like this before, not without warning. I don’t work in the field, Bo. I’m an analyst.”

  “You’re whatever Lou needs to you to be,” Bo fired back and closed his suitcase. “That’s what it means to work for someone, girl. You don’t question their motives. You’ve got to trust them.”

  “I don’t trust anyone, Bo, least of all Lou Ganner.” Jackie crossed her arms and paced back over to the mirror. “Did you bring clothes for a funeral, Bo?”

  He huffed out a sigh, glad she’d decided to leave it alone for now. “You forget who y
ou’re talking to.” Bo unzipped another compartment in his suitcase and opened the flap to reveal a pressed suit inside a garment bag, charcoal black. “You know, this might be the first time I’ve worn this particular suit to the funeral of a man I didn’t kill.”

  “Don’t get too excited to put it on. Funeral’s not for a few days. Nic said at least one person in the pack was trying to convince Tara to allow an autopsy in case what’s happening is biological.”

  Bo winced. Cutting into the dead was unnatural and would yield nothing. If the living dissected the dead, there could be no rest for the departed spirit. Best to let the dead sleep with the dead and let the living dismember the living.

  He put the knife down and sat on the bed to pull off his boots. It was too warm inside for all the winter gear he’d worn. “Nic, is it?”

  Jackie shrugged. “It’s what he asked to be called. I’ll respect his wishes. You should do the same.”

  “We are not members of his pack, Jackie, and if he tries to order me, he’ll quickly find out why no pack in North America wanted me, even in my prime. I am too much trouble and I don’t like to be told what to do. Neither do you, as I recall.” He smiled at her, but she didn’t return it. Always so damn serious, his Jackie. Maybe it would be good for her if he did let the alpha chase and win her.

  As soon as he thought it, he dismissed the idea. Jackie would find her mate one day, but this alpha at the top of the world could not be it. He’d never accept or allow such a match. This youngster was hardheaded, powerful, and full of spit and fire. Any male that was ready to challenge him was not respectable enough for her.

  Jackie sighed.

  “What?” He let his smile return. “Lighten up, child. Just because it’s called work doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy some element of what we do.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “Weren’t you just telling me not to enjoy myself?”

  He froze pulling off the other boot and looked up. Was that a smile on Jackie’s face? On his Jackie’s face? Oh, she had her mother’s rotten smile. He returned it and shook his head. “I suppose I was.”