by Jenny Penn
No sooner had Daisy dropped her book bag and carried her bottle of wine into the kitchen than she heard a strange sound at her window. She turned quickly, her nerves clenching in a second as she fully expected to find something ominous and menacing, but instead what she found was truly bizarre.
A snow owl, not at all common to the area, had perched on her outside sill and was staring in with an unblinking gaze that was downright mesmerizing, and she found herself easing slowly toward the window as if lured there. The bird took off at the last moment, taking flight with a silent leap that had its wings spreading wide, and Daisy rushed to the window to watch it soar off into the sky.
A lonely howl echoed through the quiet streets, sending a shiver up her spine.
Something was out there. Daisy could sense it and knew that it was waiting for her, but she didn’t have the courage to go and face it. Instead, she forgot about her wine and retreated to her bedroom to try and find some solace in sleep.
Her dreams, though, were anything but restful.
* * * *
Tex shifted as he saw the light in his mate’s room go out. Glancing down, he frowned at the chunk of flesh the stupid guard’s bullet had taken out of his side. The injury was minor. Worse was the badge of failure he now wore.
In his defense, though, he’d been completely blindsided by the woman. It didn’t matter that he’d been warned all his life that the wolf could react strangely when it first saw its mate. Driven by the feral need to claim and mark his mate, Tex’s wolf had reacted with instinctive aggression. That didn’t tend to get a man anywhere, especially with women.
Brock shifted back into his human form, casting a question almost the instant he could at Tex. “You going to be okay, man? That ass didn’t get you, did he?”
“Just the flesh wound.” Tex sighed and glanced up to their mate’s darkened window. “The real problem is I didn’t get her.”
“Yeah, she nailed you good,” Brock murmured with a half-smile. “Kind of nice to know that our mate is not only smart but spunky.”
“Spunky? Great.”
Tex wasn’t as impressed. He liked the quiet life and would prefer a mate who didn’t add unnecessary drama to it. Drama, though, seemed to be inevitable at this point because, one way or another, one of them had to bite her. That was the only way to begin the mating process and open the gateway to the dreams that would allow them to guide her through the nightmares that awaited their mate.
She was marked now. The Great Owl had not only lead Tex and Brock to their mate but also the ghosts that lived in the shadows. They would eat her soul alive if he and Brock didn’t do something quickly.
“One of us has to go up there.” Tex finally said what he knew they were both thinking.
“And knock on her door?” Brock asked a little too hopefully.
Tex cast him a look. “You really think she’ll answer the door with either a naked man or a wolf standing on the other side?”
“Not if she’s smart.” Brock frowned. “So what do you want to do? Break in?”
“Do we have a choice?” Tex would have loved to have one, but he knew there wasn’t any other option. That didn’t mean he felt right about what they had to do.
“She’s our mate,” Brock stated simply, as if that made any difference. There was only one thing that mattered.
“She’s going to die without our bite.” Tex heaved another heavy sigh and met his brother’s gaze. “So who is going up there?”
* * * *
Brock had never actually learned how to pick a lock, but he had the strength to bust one. Taking a deep breath, he gripped the door handle in a tight fist and glanced around the hall. As if a man standing there naked wasn’t enough to draw attention to him, he felt even more conspicuous wrenching the damn doorknob until the wood around it cracked and broke free.
His mate’s door would have swung free, but there was still a chain attached. It snapped easily as he put his shoulder into the door. Thankfully, it also snapped relatively quietly, but still Brock hesitated, his ears cocked and listening for any sound that somebody might be moving about in the apartment.
After all, the last thing he needed to do was end up arrested. That certainly wouldn’t help the situation, and neither would dawdling over the matter, but that was just what Brock did as he stepped into his mate’s apartment. He was hit almost instantly with her scent, which went straight through him like a punch to his system, making him instantly hard and a little lightheaded.
The sweet fragrance of flowers and soap mixed with a lighter scent flooded him with such a sense of warmth and home that he felt mesmerized by it. Unable to do anything more than follow his nose, Brock tracked the alluring aroma all the way to the bedroom where he found her.
His mate.
She was beautiful.
Brock hadn’t gotten a really good look at her earlier. He’d been covering the front and only come running at the sound of gunfire. Even at the supermarket, he’d gotten only a general sense of her looks. She was tall and carried herself like a queen, with long, dark hair pulled into a tight ponytail that had swished across her back and drawn Brock’s gaze to her perfectly round, big ass. He loved big-assed women, especially when they came with a rack that bounced with it.
Smart was sexy, but so were curves.
Brock smiled at that thought as he allowed his gaze to travel over his mate’s body, wanting in that moment to do nothing more than crawl beneath the sheets and snuggle into her warmth. That sweet desire was ruined as his mate cried out. Her hands lifted to bat away at the shadows.
“No…no…stop! Don’t!”
The smile on Brock’s face instantly turned into a snarl as the beast with in him roused in anger at the knowledge that his mate was under attack. The ghosts had already made it into her dreams. There was only one way to protect her from them.
* * * *
Daisy fought against the hands pawing at her as she bucked and twisted, trying to throw the man above her off. Her heart was racing, her mind screaming, but the ghostly visage wouldn’t dissipate. It was tearing at her clothes, and she could hear the shouts of the rest of the men egging the bastard above her on.
There was no escape.
There was only pain.
That pain got redefined as fiery streaks of molten heat shot through her, causing Daisy to scream and jerk upward right out of her dream into a living nightmare as she found herself pinned beneath a large dog, its teeth sunk into her shoulder.
Daisy reacted instantly, shoving the dog off and sending it toppling over the edge of the bed as she flew across the mattress to scramble off the other side. She hesitated a bare second to turn and see the wild beast with its glowing eyes scrambling back onto its feet, and then she was rushing into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her and locking it as she tried to tell herself it was just a dream.
“Just a dream,” Daisy whispered over and over again to herself. “It was just a dream.”
The image reflecting back at her in the mirror over her sink told her it wasn’t. She saw the bite mark, large and bloody, soaking through her nightshirt, even as the pain it inspired quickly subsided into a throbbing ache. The wound looked horrific and couldn’t have been more real.
As if in a trance, Daisy crossed the bathroom’s cool floor to stare at the bloody bite. It was real, and that meant the beast outside in her bedroom had followed her, stalked her, and somehow made it into her locked apartment. None of that made any sense. It was beyond bizarre, and there was no way in hell she was going back out that door.
Daisy didn’t even care that she didn’t have a phone to call for help or another exit to escape by. Instead, she cleaned the wound as much as she could with the supplies she had and then settled down into the tub to wait the night through. She was cold, miserable, and uncomfortable but still somehow managed to doze back off.
Almost instantly, her dreams were waiting to claim her once again and drag her into the nightmare just where she’d left off⎯pin
ned beneath a man as he clawed at her body. She felt her clothes being shredded, and she was screaming at him to stop, but nothing made a difference. Nothing but the loud howl that echoed through the night.
The sound cut through her dream, causing the man above her to stop for a mere second before he scrambled off of her and ran. Daisy lifted herself up onto her elbow as she saw the black wolf streak past her, its coat gleaming thickly in the moonlight. A second, all-too-familiar-looking one plodded up toward her. Daisy whimpered and started to crawl backward, certain her dream had actually taken a turn for the worse.
The wolf’s head tilted as it watched her. Then its massive muzzle hit the ground, but Daisy wasn’t fooled, not even when the wolf ended up rolling over to show her his belly. It was a sign of submission, she knew, but she didn’t trust the beast. Instead, she took advantage of the wolf’s momentary distraction to take off.
Scrambling to her feet, she went running into the woods, and visions of the past flashed past her in a series of hard hits that made no sense. She saw what looked to be an old ghost town followed by the quaint scene of a village with cabins buried in the woods before, suddenly, the image of a face carved in rock slammed into her mind. Then Daisy was snapping awake, jerking upright in the tub as she heard her alarm going off in the next room.
It was morning, and the wound on her shoulder was almost fully healed.
Chapter 1
Daisy stared out over the twinkling ripples rolling across Lake Adahy to lap softly before her feet. The soft grass that decorated the edge of the lake grew lush and thick in the gentle shadows of the evergreen forest that rose up all around. Tall and thick, the trees gave way to the fields of the valley and then grew back up on the westward shore of the lake.
They trailed all the way up to the rocky face of Devil’s Peak.
In the winter, the peak would be snow-covered and painted like an old man. Daisy knew that because she’d seen it in her dreams. Every night, those dreams came to her, and every night she was attacked by the mob of men, only to be rescued by the wolves. Daisy still didn’t trust them, but she realized she wasn’t running from them. She was running toward something, somebody, to the Devil’s Peak.
It cast the shadow of a hanging man in her dreams, and she’d been unable to deny a sense of sorrow that filled her every time she woke up. Daisy had sobbed her way through thirty mornings, and she was tired, strung-out, and desperate to figure out the mystery of her dreams.
They needed to end.
That was why she was here. She’d come to Lake Adahy to solve the mystery of the Devil’s Peak. Normally Daisy liked mysteries, especially the spooky kind. There was more spook to this one than normal, though.
Ever since the dreams had started, she’d been researching the lake and the mountain it surrounded. In fact, Daisy now had a whole scrapbook filled with found articles that detailed the tall tales that often came with rich and natural wonders of the mountain.
There were several incidents recorded in the papers that could easily leave one wondering if there weren’t more forces than simply Mother Nature at work. The sheer number of people who came to visit the small town, only to end up dying in their sleep, was suspicious.
It would have led her to believe that there was a murderer afoot if it weren’t for the fact that the deaths spanned well over a century. Daisy had a sick feeling she knew how they’d died⎯the dreams. They were something more.
But what?
That was the truth that Daisy had come to find, but so far all she had were a few tales of the way’a, some that didn’t even count for much, like the legend of the eternal flame. It had recently been re-ignited, but that still had nothing to do with the Devil’s Peak. Somewhere out there, though, there was a clue to what was happening to her. Somewhere out there was a cure.
Turning away from the promise of the morning sun peeking over the green ridge towering far above, Daisy headed back into the cabin she had rented at Lake Adahy Lodge and quickly pulled off her nightclothes to head into the shower for a quick wash. She had a lot to accomplish that day and only a week to discover the truths she’d come to find.
Daisy was all lathered up and standing beneath the trickle of the water coming out the showerhead when she felt a strange sense of being watched. It was just one of those moments when a sudden flash of awareness sent a cold trickle down her spine. She glanced around, though there was nobody in the bathroom with her.
Neither was there anybody out in the main room when she stepped back into it not minutes later. Yet, the sensation didn’t dissipate. Just the opposite. It grew stronger until she stepped outside and found an all-too-familiar-looking snow owl perched in the gnarled oak branches that stretched over the cabin’s roof.
It was huge and still and staring at Daisy with an unnerving intensity. She couldn’t help but think that the owl’s appearance was far from a coincidence. It was more like an omen. Given the last time the bird had come to visit it had gifted her with the nightmares, Daisy wasn’t exactly thrilled to see it again, which was just why she started to slowly back away from the bird. She eased her way down the path, finding it strangely comforting to talk to the creature, whose head turned with fluid grace to track her progress.
“It’s okay.” Daisy held her hands up in what, for humans at least, was a universal sign of surrender. The owl looked far from impressed with either the gesture or her assurances. “I promise. I’m not going to do you any harm.”
The owl neither blinked nor moved, but somehow Daisy was left with a sense that the bird was amused. Maybe that was just her. She certainly felt kind of silly, especially when she almost backed into Mrs. Harkin.
“Watch out now!” the old woman snapped, rapping the bulbous head of her cane right between Daisy’s shoulder blades, making her painfully aware of the older woman’s presence.
“Ow!”
Daisy cringed, shifting away from the blow and turning to find the hardly crippled woman standing there clutching her cane in one hand and a bag of breadcrumbs in the other. Just as she had been the other day, she was dressed in a skirt that was clearly two sizes too big. She had it belted at the waist with her shirt tucked in and support hose hanging down.
Big, fat, black shoes made her feet look like blocks. Years of weather and aging lent a menacing air to her scowl as all the leathered wrinkles lining her face folded in deep, creating dark shadows from which her eyes glowed with an unholy intensity that kind of unnerved Daisy. If she’d been a less charitable person, she’d have thought Mrs. Harkin resembled a hag. She certainly had the personality of one.
“Ow,” she whined, mimicking her with an insulting exaggeration. “You sound like a child crying. Of course, you’re acting like one walking backward like that.”
“Morning, Mrs. Harkin.” Daisy tipped her head, having learned a long time ago that it was easier to manage grumpy people than it was to try and fix them. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bump into you. I was just trying not to disturb the owl.”
With that, Daisy gestured to where the oversized bird still sat, staring at both of them as if they were curiosities. What Daisy found curious, though, was Mrs. Harkin’s reaction. She all but growled, and, darting past Daisy, the old lady lifted her cane into the air and charged the bird.
The owl didn’t hesitate. It took flight in a graceful leap, without a single sound, and soared off. Mrs. Harkin was not so quiet. She hollered out curses at the bird, threatening to go get her gun while she wagged her cane at it. When she finally wore herself down, the old woman turned on her and pinned Daisy with a hard look.
“Don’t you let that bird linger. He brings bad tidings.”
“Bad tidings?” Daisy scowled, wondering just what the old woman meant. “Why do you say that?”
“Everybody knows,” Mrs. Harkin retorted, only confusing Daisy more.
“Everybody knows what?”
“Why should I waste my time explaining things to you? You won’t listen.” Mrs. Harkin shook her head, ignoring
Daisy’s question as she turned back toward the lake. She shuffled off, muttering to herself how nobody ever did listen. She left Daisy caught for a moment, curious over what she was carrying on about but certain that any attempt to find out would lead her nowhere.
Daisy was going to have to do thing the hard way, the researcher way. Top of her list now was the mystery of the snow owl, because she was certain it had something to do with the Devil’s Peak. First, though, she needed to fortify herself with a hearty breakfast.
With that in mind, she turned to head back off toward the main lodge to grab her some free food. It wasn’t very good food, but Daisy wasn’t picky. She was hungry, but it seemed as though she was always that these days. Her appetite for meat had grown, and she drew looks from the other guests as she piled her plate high with limp bacon the lodge offered up. By the time she’d finished, there was almost no bacon left.
Still, she hungered.
Daisy ignored the sensation and the looks, heading out the door to one of her favorite places⎯the library. It was located next to the church at the center of the small town that served mostly as a stop along a scenic highway with a small amount of tourism from the lake. The water was cold, though, keeping most people out of it and leaving it to the fishermen to enjoy.
Of course, more people were willing to spend a sunny spring morning on a chilly lake than were willing to waste it in a library. As Daisy shouldered her way through the well-worn wood doors, she stepped into a large room that appeared to be completely empty. Far from the university’s massive library flowing with constant waves of students and faculty members, this place reminded Daisy more of the library from her childhood.
