Heart of a Dire Wolf

by Carol Van Natta

  “How old are you?” She flashed on an unpleasant memory of the auction house’s intake interrogation. “Sorry, that’s being nosy.”

  “I don’t mind.” He smiled. “I want to know more about you, too, so let’s trade answers. I was born on the twentieth of June in nineteen hundred and eight. You?”

  “August second, nineteen seventy-five.” Even though she was barely out of the den as far as multi-century shifter lifespans went, she was still twenty years older than her human grad student friends. Nic had fifty-plus more years of experience.

  Mauk beeped twice for attention. “I recommend the left lane. The driver of the truck ahead is looking for a place to pull over.”

  “Thank you, Mauk.” She signaled as she moved left, even though no car was close enough to care. “Are your parents still around?”

  “Yes, they have a big ranch adjacent to a wildlife refuge in northern Quebec. They just had a baby, which was how the assholes caught me.” He explained about the annual caribou clan migration, the underwater trap, and waking up in the auction house. “I want to call them and let them know what happened, but my father would insist on coming to rescue us. He’s very protective of his family.”

  She liked the sound of that, even though Nic’s tone suggested he found it exasperating. “I hope to meet him one day.”

  “What about your family?”

  “Dead.” She didn’t like talking about it, but Nic deserved to know he’d be getting nothing but her. “I’m the last of my line. My mother died when I was fourteen. My father disappeared two years ago. The hunters caught my sister and me together five weeks ago.” Raw pain lanced through her. “She went feral. The guards killed her yesterday.” She clenched her teeth to will the tears away. “I found you, but I had to leave without her.”

  “Black woman, hell of a fighter?” When she nodded, Nic swore. “I’m sorry, Skyla.”

  “Yeah, me, too.” She let out a controlled breath. “I plan on sending her off in style, once we’re safe.”

  A slight hill let her see the surprising amount of oncoming traffic ahead as she passed the slowing big truck. A thought struck her.

  “Mauk, how did you know what the truck wanted to do?”

  “The driver talks to herself out loud.” The tone was matter of fact.

  Skyla blinked. “How far can you hear?”

  “I do not know. I have not been tested.”

  Nic touched the dashboard above the display. “Mauk, are you a captive? Helping us against your will?”

  She should have thought to ask, and was glad Nic did. Mauk had too much personality to be a simple magic-fused computer.

  “No,” said Mauk. “I am a one-of-a-kind silica-sentient construct in a magical-mechanical shell. You are my passengers. This is my purpose.”

  As close as she was to Nic, she felt his dissatisfaction with the answer. It made her feel better about her own reaction, that Mauk’s answer sounded sad and bleak. She reached out briefly to pat Nic’s solid thigh. He covered her hand with his and squeezed gently. Even that small contact sent a zing through her core. She squeezed his hand back, then reluctantly pulled away.

  “Mauk,” she asked, “do you want to be tested?”

  Mauk was silent for several long moments. “Yes. I will be a more valued construct if I know my parameters.”

  She might be unhelpful in a fight, but testing was right up her alley. She’d designed hundreds of them for undergraduate students. “Start with that pickup truck in front of us. Your map says it’s about a half mile ahead. I’ll match its pace, so you can get a baseline.”

  Mauk answered immediately. “The radio is playing music.”

  “Good,” she said, just like Mauk was one of her newbie magic students. “What can you tell us about the occupants?”

  “The driver is human. The passenger is a non-shifter dog. The vehicle would be an unsuitable home.”

  “Why?” asked Nic.

  “No processor. No charge capacity. No magic. Two pistons are misfiring. The engine leaks oil and gets poor gas mileage.” Mauk’s disdain made Skyla smile. Clearly Ivy’s influence.

  Nic chuckled. “If I ever need to buy a car, I’m taking you with me as an advisor.”

  They discovered Mauk could hear inside vehicles as far as five miles ahead if the occupants spoke or the radio blared. He had access to satellites the world over but could only display a ten-mile radius at a time.

  Once they passed through Barstow, she moved into the right lane, then set the cruise control for just under the speed limit. She took her foot off the accelerator and wiggled her toes. Rubber flip-flops were better than no shoes at all, but not by much. Mauk’s display map said only two more hours to Vegas.

  Nic angled in his seat, trying to find someplace for his long legs.

  “Mauk, can you adjust the seat for Nic so he can stretch out?”

  “Yes. However, interior transfiguration will reduce my store of magic by twenty-five percent. My detection range becomes smaller.” The map in the center display squished to accommodate a sidebar with three graphics showing the three energy sources. The gauge for magic showed half a… tank, for want of a better word. Magic repositories didn’t really have a shape, as far as she knew.

  “How do we recharge the magic?” asked Nic.

  “Three ways. Immediate direct transfer from a sorcerer, wizard, ancient, or similar magic user. Osmotic transfer from a powered charm, such as the solar collector device on the roof. The life force of any living creature that attempts to damage the owner or the trees in her care.”

  Nic muttered something about his mother being right about dryads.

  Skyla sighed. Ancients—elves, fairies, vampires, and the like—usually didn’t share their magic, and certainly not with semi-sentient vehicles. Five weeks as an underground captive and running for her life had taken its toll on her own magic, and she’d spent a lot of her own store on the healing spell for Lerro and shorting out cell doors. “How long does it take to get a full charge from the solar charm?”

  “Ten hours in full sunlight.” A two-day weather forecast replaced the gauges in the sidebar. “At the current consumption rate and factoring the coming storm, the magic store will be at capacity approximately thirty-five hours from now.”

  Nic rested a hand on her shoulder. “Thanks for thinking of me, but I’d rather be safe.” He stroked her soft neck with the backs of his fingers. “I’ll let the seat back down and nap now, so I can take the wheel after Las Vegas.”

  Amazingly, he did just that, somehow managing to fold his long limbs into a comfortable position. She deeply envied feline shifters the ability to sleep anywhere, anytime. Her non-stop brain categorically refused to take naps. Maybe if the mate bond allowed them to share gifts, as sometimes happened with shifters with different animal souls, she’d get that from him.

  Unfortunately, it left her alone with her thoughts and her worries. Wizards with abundant magic and money made dangerous enemies. Any one of the escaping shifters could blow the whole lucrative operation, so the auction house had strong incentives to send all available hunters after them. The hunters would be sorry if they crossed Ivy, who was part vengeful dryad and part mountain fairy, with all the famously volcanic temper of that species, but they could do some damage.

  She hoped all the escaping shifters had continued to help each other and scattered to the four winds. She worried about the bobcat shifter twins that Nic had befriended, because she suspected he’d blame himself if they got caught or hurt. She sent prayers to the moon goddess to watch over poor, tortured Lerro, still in the underground hell. She’d probably be crazy as a loon if she’d been blessed with the curse of prophecy.

  She mourned for her beautiful, taller, supremely competent sister. She’d probably have taken down the entire complex on her way out and freed everyone. All Skyla had been able to do was spread the word and take advantage of the earthquake to open the cell doors. Luck had done the rest.

  She stole glances at Nic fr
om time to time, wondering what his face looked like under all that dark curly hair and beard. At the moment, he mostly looked exhausted. Tigers weren’t built for marathon runs across hot, arid mountains. He hadn’t complained once, which put him several rungs above the few other boyfriends she’d had in the past. She liked that he seemed at peace with himself, and genuinely interested in getting to know her. She couldn’t imagine anything lonelier than only having the physical act of sex in common with her mate.

  She felt guilty for not telling Nic about the true nature of her beast. Sins of omission were still lies, and that was no way to build a lifelong relationship with anyone. She decided she’d tell him once they made it past Las Vegas. That way, if the news upset him enough to partially shift, she’d rather it not be in a city full of humans, each with a smartphone camera in their pocket.

  If the secrets of the hidden world ever got out, what humans would do to magical species would make the auction house cells seem like a luxury resort.

  6

  Nic felt like he was riding in a roller skate. He hadn’t been in anything but a big truck or a snowmobile in years. Skyla volunteered to continue driving so he could navigate once they got to St. George, which turned out to be directly on their route. Mauk’s map said they were ninety minutes away.

  The closer they got, the less certain he was of what to do. Even if he could find the group home from the mental image he had from the twins, five in the morning would be too early to pound on anyone’s door. The wind had picked up and blew intermittent spatters of rain on the windshield.

  At least they had better clothes, coats, and a full tank of gas. Skyla had spent time with a comb and pulled her hair back into a neat, professor-like bun. If he’d been in one of her classes, he’d have probably misbehaved every day just to get her attention. Best of all, she had found a hidden sorcery shop to buy a token that Mauk was able to use to replenish his magic charge.

  She hadn’t said anything once they got back on the highway. He didn’t know what her silence meant. He’d been aching for the last decade to find his mate and settle down, but looking back now, he realized he’d done no preparation and had a poor track record with romantic relationships. After a disastrous love affair in his youth, worthy of a B-movie, he’d drifted through a series of casual physical liaisons that slaked his immediate thirst, but never filled his cup. And obviously, he’d listened to too many literary audiobooks with a poetic turn of phrase. He shook his head.

  Perhaps, since they were only inches apart, he could sense the mate bond and get an idea of Skyla’s feelings. His true-mated parents could talk to one another through their bond, and he wanted that with Skyla. Wanted to hear her and share her thoughts. He closed his eyes and tried to listen around the static of the car’s magic and the enticing caress of Skyla’s native magic.

  Wispy, fluttery strands of gold and gray brushed against his mind. He reached for them, but they evaded his grasp. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, letting his dozy inner tiger help him relax more with each heartbeat.

  He heard a word. He resisted the impulse to strain to hear it, and just let it come.

  “Brick.”

  His tiger rolled to its haunches.

  Pain lanced through the back of his head. “Brick, you’ve been a bad dawg. You need to turn around and come home now.” A pulse of pain rocked him. “I cain’t see nothin’.”

  Landry, the auction house guard, was in his head, shouting. “Brick! Wake up!”

  He felt Skyla’s hand on his arm. “What’s wrong?”

  “Open your eyes, Brick.” Landry’s voice turned more cajoling. “Lookie. I’ve got a nice, juicy steak if you show me where you are.”

  Nic scrunched his eyes closed and shook his head violently. His tiger surged forward. His fingers thickened and formed claws, but he fought not to shift in the tiny car.

  Mauk’s voice sounded far away. “The next stop is the Moapa Plaza.”

  “Shit, I think Brick’s on a bus. That’s how he got so far. Pull up that map.”

  Nic slammed his palms over his ears. He needed to get away from the voices, away from the car.

  Skyla’s voice sounded worried. “…pulling over…”

  He desperately fumbled at the latch for the door and finally caught it with one claw. He shoved the door open and tried to roll out, but the seatbelt held him in. Wind buffeted his ears.

  “Brick! Open your eyes!” Landry shouted.

  He fought against the sudden compulsion to obey the hated voice in his head. Tires crunched on gravel. He raked his claws across his chest to get the seatbelt. It finally gave way. He launched himself sideways, opening his eyes at the last second to see the dirt and gravel shoulder.

  He landed on his hip and rolled down the short embankment, shifting into his enraged tiger, leaving pieces of torn clothing in his wake. He started running away from the road. Rain made the rocks glisten.

  “Got him!” Landry sounded triumphant. “Brick, stop right there!”

  Lightning bolts of pain discoordinated his legs and made him stumble to a stop. He focused his vision on the dark outline of a scraggly tree and kept walking, dragging each paw in the dirt. A splash of rain soaked his ear.

  “Stop, goddammit!”

  His body obeyed the command and stilled. Nic narrowed his focus and fought to lift one paw.

  “Bad dawg!”

  Long seconds of lightning obliterated conscious thought. He tasted blood in his mouth from where he’d bit his tongue. His hind legs buckled and he sat.

  “Look all around you.”

  His body obeyed. He tried to force the change back to human, but it was like pounding his head against a rock. Tiger anger and fear wrapped around rising human despair.

  “Walk toward the road behind you. That’s gotta be I-15. And don’t give me none of your shit, or I’ll zap you into next week.”

  Like a marching automaton, his paws took him inexorably back toward the highway. Nic couldn’t let Landry see Skyla, or they’d catch her, too.

  Nic focused on slowing his legs, using the rise of the embankment to help him sit on his haunches, then lie down.

  He welcomed Landry’s cursing and the overwhelming pain that ensued, because it meant he’d won. He couldn’t betray his mate if they killed him.

  Skyla was just screwing up her courage to tell Nic her secret when she’d felt the sharp burn of active talisman magic. Distress poured off him as he jerked like he’d been shocked and put his hands over his ears. She slowed the car, looking for a shoulder wide enough to pull over. The next thing she knew, Nic snapped the seatbelt and threw himself out of the passenger door and vanished.

  She skidded the car to a halt on the rain-dampened dust. She unfastened her seatbelt and started to get out, but hesitated. What was she going to do—tackle a man twice her size? How about an eight-hundred-pound Siberian tiger?

  She leaned across and pulled the passenger door shut. She was a flaming idiot. Of course greedy wizards had ways to find their merchandise. Not just for escapees, but for cases where buyers didn’t pay. She should’ve checked both herself and Nic for dormant magical talismans.

  “Mauk, what are your defenses?” She knew a few good spells, but she only had the energy for one or two.

  “Ignore. Displacement. Kinetic shield. Ogre repellant.” The last was likely due to Ivy’s bad breakup with her previous boyfriend, rather than an overabundance of ogres in Santa Barbara.

  “Deploy the ‘ignore’ spell.” Her next words hurt. “If Nic’s talisman is still operating, don’t let him in.”

  “Unable to comply. He is an authorized operator.”

  “Un-authorize him, then.” She put fingers to her throbbing temples. “Think, Skyla!”

  If Nic had a tracker, so did she. Thanks to Lerro, they didn’t yet know she was gone, or they’d have activated hers, too. It’d have to be something small that stayed with her, regardless of her shape. “Mauk, can you scan me for inert talisman magic?”

 
; “Yes. Two sources located.” The rotating image of a generic human appeared on the console display, with two red dots, one in the lower skull, one in the right hip.

  “Can you drain them without triggering their spells?”

  “Evaluating.” Seconds she couldn’t afford dragged. “Yes.”

  “Do it.” Twin cattle prods exploded along her nerves. “Yeow!”

  “Ten spells successfully converted. My energy store is once again at full capacity.”

  “Lucky you.” She gingerly touched the tender spot on the back of her neck and smelled singed hair, then looked at the scorch mark where the pocket of her new jeans used to be. Burns hurt like hell, even with speedy shifter healing. “Where is Nic?”

  “Fifty-three feet southwest. Three talismans activated. He is in tiger form, moving slowly toward us.”

  She wished she’d thought to ask Mauk what kind of spells she was up against before he broke them. Worst-case scenario, the talismans carried a living golem spell that let the asshole wizards control Nic’s mind and body, and probably a self-destruct. She couldn’t let them see the car or her.

  “Mauk, I’m going to alter your displacement spell.” She pressed the four red gems across the top of the display, as she’d remembered Ivy doing.

  “Passphrase required for alteration.”

  “I don’t know it.” She growled in frustration as her true wolf’s temper spiked. “Fucking hell, Mauk, I don’t have time for this shit!”

  “Passphrase confirmed.”

  It took stiff-legged, disoriented Nic-the-tiger three tries to get up the rain-slicked embankment that led to the road. Landry couldn’t figure out how to remote-control four uncooperative legs. On the third try, a high-pitched female voice joined Landry’s and gave such detailed instructions that Nic had no choice but to comply. He couldn’t remember why it was important to defy the voices in his head, and his man side was too far away to ask. Still, it pleased Nic-the-tiger to not do as he was told.