Winter Wolf

by RJ Blain

  The crystal fit in the palm of my hand, and despite it being a stone, it was warm. I curled my fingers around it. “How is it used?” I unfurled my hand and stared into the stone’s depths. It wasn’t a perfect stone; its heart was flawed, catching the light in its depths. For its size, maybe two inches in diameter, it felt lighter than I expected.

  “You will sit with it while burning incense, and focus on who you are now—and who you wish to be in the future. A person with good luck, a person whom misfortune flees from. Each day, you focus these thoughts and meditate with the stone. An hour or more is best, but as much as you can.” There was something sly and almost wicked about the woman’s smile. “And if your bad luck is from a ghost or spirit, the stone’s influence should protect you.”

  “Ghosts can cause bad luck?” I asked, surprised.

  She stared at me, narrowing her eyes a little. “You believe in things like ghosts and spirits. Most do not. I thought you’d be a skeptic.”

  “I believe in a lot of things,” I admitted. “Someone once told me never to doubt another’s belief. They might be right, and then I’d be in a pretty bad place.”

  It had been my mother who had told me to be careful about the power of belief, and I wished I had believed her before I became a wizard. If wizards, witches, and Fenerec existed, I couldn’t deny someone’s belief in God, either.

  “Your someone was very wise. Perhaps the citrine may not be enough.”

  I didn’t move to hand her the stone back. I liked its warmth in my hand and I was reluctant to let it go. She reached back into the display case, her bracelets jingling, and withdrew two stones. One was a moonstone, reflecting the colors of the rainbow in the store’s light. The other was mottled with red and red-brown, with veins of black running through it.

  “Come, child. Put the citrine here and take this,” the gypsy said, gesturing to a round stand on the counter. I set the citrine on it. She handed me the red stone. “This is rhodonite. It is a soothing stone, and brings love, luck, and well-bringing to its owner. It is a warding stone and should protect you from demons and negativity. Just keep it with you, even you sleep. It will bring you comfort by simply hold it. It is a giving stone and will cherish you as much as you cherish it.”

  Like the citrine, the rhodonite was warm in my hand.

  “It’s beautiful.”

  The gypsy smiled. “Most here often do not think so. It’s not a clear stone, so how can such a thing be valuable? Pah!”

  I wondered how long the red stone, with its charming black splotches, had wasted away in the shop gathering dust—not that there was much dust in the place at all. “I understand.”

  Someone used to diamonds, rubies, and pearls probably couldn’t see the beauty in such a humble, dull sphere of crystal. Its warmth in my hand didn’t fade, and it was hard for me to set it down on the counter.

  Without a word, the gypsy set the moonstone in my hand and hurried across the shop, gathering things from shelves and drawers while I stared into the moonstone’s rainbow depths. It was a larger stone than the one in my bag, but it had a different feeling to it. Like my debens, there was a sense of great age to the stone.

  It had been used before by someone, and I felt something akin to intelligence within it. It was watching, testing, and prodding me, much like the book did when it wanted to learn something from me. It made the inside of my head itch.

  If it had gifts to give, I doubted it would offer them to me—not without me proving myself first. “What does this one represent?”

  “It is a moonstone. It is strongest at the full moon, but it is the most personal of stones. It is close with nature and balance. It is the representation of the night, of passion, and of love. Luck, as well. Like the rhodonite, it may protect you. This one has been in my shop for a long, long time.”

  Considering how uneasy the stone made me just from touching it, I wasn’t surprised. But there was something sad about the woman’s voice, as if she grieved that the stone remained in her store instead of finding its way out into the world.

  I set the stone on the counter, waving my hand at the large pile of other things the gypsy had selected for me. Some of the components I recognized from my experiments as a wizard; incenses for clearing the mind, oils from herbs for healing and luck, jars of ointments, wood carvings of totem spirits, and pouches smelling of herb and ash. With brisk efficiency, she explained what they did and how they should be used.

  Most of them were useless to me; maybe a witch or someone obsessed with the paranormal would believe in their powers, but they wouldn’t work with my sort of magic. I listened patiently, making a mental list of the things I could use. The stones interested me, and in order to get all three without suspicion, I bought everything she recommended. I winced as she charged my credit card almost five hundred dollars.

  Not everything fit into my messenger bag. When I packed away the moonstone, I got the feeling it wasn’t happy about leaving the shop it had called home for so long. The gypsy wished me well as I slipped out of her store into the night.

  ~~*~~

  Someone was watching me.

  Despite the late hour, Hollywood Boulevard was busy, with shoppers and tourists swarming the street. Paranoia was a constant friend of mine, but there was something about the way the back of my neck prickled that warned me something was amiss. It could’ve been anything, from someone curious about why I had emerged from a creepy store with a bulging bag of things to someone stalking me.

  I meant to take a cab directly home, but I changed my mind as I flagged one down.

  If someone was following me, I’d make them earn their keep. I ordered the driver to take me to one of the late night movie theaters. I paid an exorbitant fee to get in just to head to the nearest restroom. I took my time, playing with my hair until I was confident any pursuers would be bored half out of their wits.

  When I emerged, there were a handful of men and women loitering around waiting for people—and the prickly sensation on the back of neck hadn’t eased. I stole glances at those around me. One of the men, a muscular black guy who looked fit enough for football, left his spot along a wall to meet with a Hispanic girl who emerged from the bathroom after me. I smiled at them, though I doubted they noticed me. She barely came up to his chest when she adhered herself to his side.

  The few women present weren’t interested in me, as they were watching the men’s room. That left two younger men, both of them Caucasian with brown hair, and in true California style, too damned good looking. I wasn’t the only girl sneaking peeks at them.

  They almost made me wish I were the kind of girl who could take home a boy and have fun with him. The taller of the two had a slight slant to his dark eyes and the promise of a smile, which made me want to see more.

  I eliminated them from my list of potential stalkers. What could two handsome men like them want with me?

  A bit to my disappointment, no one followed me into the theater. The seat I had picked was in a far-off corner so I could watch people enter and leave. I settled in, messenger bag on my lap and the plastic bag from the store stuffed between my feet. By the time the previews were over, the sense of being watched faded. I stuck around for half the film, too distracted to enjoy it.

  Just to make sure I wasn’t followed, I went to a bar across town before making my way back to my apartment complex. Once I paid the driver, wincing a little at the horrendous amount I’d paid in fares over the evening, I shuffled towards the main doors.

  I made it halfway up the walk before a low-toned snuffling halted me in my track. The bushes along the building rustled, accompanied by a soft whine. My overactive imagination deemed the beast a coyote. I almost laughed at myself for my foolishness. Coyotes weren’t a big problem where I lived, and they were small enough to be intimidated by most people. I doubted they whined, either—not like some lost dog.

  It happened all of the time in my area. Some fool would take their puppy to the dog park, let it off its leash, and someon
e would open the gate. The dog would make a run for it and often end up at the apartment complex, one of the few places nearby with a lawn and nice bushes to hide in. I sighed.

  Dogs. More dogs. Muttering curses, I stomped to the front doors and let myself in. Greg looked up at me as I approached his desk.

  “You’re out late, Miss Thomas!”

  “Hey, Greg. Went to see a movie. Do you have a leash? Looks like someone lost their dog again.”

  Greg sighed, long and heavy, reaching behind his desk. He pulled out a bright yellow leash. “Want me to take care of it, Miss Thomas?”

  I chuckled, depositing my bags next to the desk. “Rest your old bones. The poor thing is whining in the bushes. If it gives me any trouble, I’ll just have you call animal control.”

  Greg made a sour face. “Just be careful and don’t let it bite you.”

  I waved away his concern, and his eyes focused on my bandaged forearm.

  “What have you done to yourself this time?”

  “Accident on set,” I answered, glad I could be honest to the old man. “Nothing big.”

  “That friend of yours was by here a little earlier tonight asking if I’d seen you. I didn’t tell him anything.”

  I grinned. “Dominic’s pushy sometimes, isn’t he?”

  “Bad news, that one.”

  “Any good looking man is bad news as far as you’re concerned, Greg.”

  “Sure you don’t want me to go with you?”

  “It’s just a dog, Greg.” Before the old man could get up from his desk, I swept through the doors and headed back to where I had heard the animal. I held the leash near the clip, watching the bushes for movement. As soon as I got within ten feet, the bushes rustled again and I caught a glimpse of gray fur through two of the shrubs.

  A large, gray and tan head poked out through the branches. I dropped the leash in my surprise. With a yip belonging to a far smaller dog, Rocky barreled out of the bushes, skidded to a halt at my feet, and stood, draping his paws over my shoulders.

  His weight drove me to the ground. He didn’t stay on me long, taking advantage of my prone position to wash my face with his tongue.

  “Oh, gross. That’s gross.” I shoved Rocky’s head away with my good hand, grabbed the leash, and clipped it to his collar. “Rocky, sit.”

  He obeyed, his tail whipping side to side.

  “What are you doing here? How did you get here?” I didn’t get any answers from the dog, who seemed happy to see me at least. I got to my feet, dusted myself off, and led Rocky to the front door.

  Greg’s eyes bulged at the sight of the huge German shepherd. “Holy Mary, Mother of God!”

  “Can I use the phone?” I asked, leaning over the desk. With his eyes still fixed on Rocky, Greg nodded. I picked up the handset, put it to my ear, and punched in Dominic’s cell number.

  He answered it on the second ring. “Hello?”

  “Dominic, what were you doing at my apartment earlier?” I pinned the handset between my ear and shoulder, keeping an eye on Rocky.

  “I was looking for you. Where have you been, Nicole?” There was concern in his voice. I waited, but he made no mention of Rocky.

  It took every bit of my willpower not to snap at my agent. I looped Rocky’s leash around my wrist so I could drum my fingers against the desk. “Went to see a movie and did some shopping. Errands, stuff like that. I told you I had things to do, didn’t I?”

  “You hadn’t,” my agent grumbled.

  Since I wasn’t getting an honest answer out of him, I decided to take the direct route. “You didn’t happen to lose something large and rather furry, did you?”

  Rocky panted at me, his tail thumping against the security desk. With my free hand, I scratched the dog behind his ears, pulling a few twigs out of his fur. There was a long moment of silence on the other end of the line—silence that told me everything I needed to know.

  My agent knew Rocky was missing. I drew several deep breaths so I wouldn’t lose my temper, especially not with Greg watching me.

  “Dominic, you can’t hide it from me. I have him right here. He was hiding out in the bushes. How did you lose him?” I wished I could see Dominic’s expression. It wasn’t often I got the edge on him and I wasn’t making any efforts to sound happy with him.

  I had trusted him to take care of the dog who had saved my life.

  “He broke his leash at the dog park when I came over to talk to you,” Dominic admitted after another long pause. “You hadn’t answered your cell.”

  I had forgotten I had my cell, which had been turned off since I had gotten it back. I wrinkled my nose, but pulled it out of my pocket and turned it on. Ignoring the notifications, I shoved it in my pocket. “I forgot to turn it back on, and I was seeing a movie anyway.”

  “I was worried.”

  “Please tell me you have Silver, at least.”

  Dominic remained silent.

  “You lost both dogs?” My question came out as a mix between a hiss and a snarl. With my hoarse voice, it wasn’t a pleasant sound. “Are you at least out looking for him?”

  “I gave up about three hours ago. Look, I called animal control and told them they were missing and gave them my number.”

  “Dominic, you… you…” Instead of screaming my frustration, I slammed the phone down on the handset. My entire body trembled with my fury. Rocky whined, nudging my side with his cold, wet nose. “That cretin!”

  “Miss Thomas?” Greg’s mouth hung open. I was convinced his eyes were about to pop out of his head.

  I didn’t like public displays of anger, but I couldn’t tame my irritation at Dominic—not this time. I owed Rocky and Silver, and it was a debt I couldn’t repay—not now, not ever. They were dogs; how could I make them understand how I appreciated what they had done? Marie and I lived because of them.

  Dominic repaid that debt by losing them both at the dog park.

  My anger was cooled by fear—fear that someone would shoot Silver before finding out whether or not he was someone’s pet.

  “Rocky’s one of my co-stars in a film I’m working on, as is another dog. My idiot agent lost them,” I explained, forcing myself to keep my tone reasonable.

  Considering Greg paled at my words, I wasn’t doing a very good job at sounding reasonable. I squashed the surge of guilt. My first priority was to find Silver before something bad happened to him—and figure out how to take care of two large dogs.

  “Anything I can do?”

  “Can you ask the land lord if he minds me keeping two dogs in my apartment for a while? I’ll pay the pet fee on top of my rent.” Lots of people in the building owned dogs—and paid a pretty penny for the privilege. I would have to dig out all of my savings to keep the animals, but after Dominic’s screw up, I wasn’t about to give them back, assuming I could find Silver.

  “I’ll ask.” Without another word, he pulled out a second leash from behind the desk and handed it to me. “I’ll keep your bags behind the desk if you’d like.”

  “Thanks,” I said, shoving my messenger bag closer to Greg with my foot. “Don’t wait up for me, Greg.”

  “Please be careful. Are you sure…?”

  I reached down, snagged my cell out of my bag, and shoved it in my pocket. “I’ll be fine. I don’t want you getting into trouble for leaving the desk unnecessarily. And anyway, I’ll have Rocky with me.”

  “I’ll call Mr. Perron.”

  “Don’t wake him up, please.” Mr. Perron didn’t show his face at the apartment complex often; I’d met him all of two times since I’d moved in: once to sign my lease and the second time in the garage when he was meeting someone about a problem with the plumbing. He was a nice enough fellow, as far as landlords went, but I didn’t want to test my luck.

  If I did, he might charge me more than the standard five hundred a month for keeping pets in his apartments.

  “Don’t worry your pretty little head about me, Miss Thomas. Go find your dog.”

  With Roc
ky at my side, I went back out to search for Silver.

  ~~*~~

  Several hours later, an excited bark was the only warning I got before a large, furry shape plowed into me from behind. My knees crashed into Rocky’s side and I ended up bent over him, spitting out fur while Silver washed my neck and face with his tongue.

  I was too relieved to get upset over Silver’s enthusiastic greeting. Sitting down on the sidewalk, I dug the leash out from my pocket and clipped it to Silver’s collar. “And where have you been, sir?”

  Silver dragged his tongue over my face in reply.

  Making faces at his affection, I wiped my mouth off with the back of my hand. “Gross. Don’t you two know I don’t like dogs?”

  Judging from their wagging tails, I doubted either animal understood me. I didn’t blame them—I didn’t believe me either. Someone who hated dogs wouldn’t spend so much time looking for one in the middle of the night. Or early morning, as the eastern sky was lightening with the promise of dawn. I stifled a yawn and wearily got to my feet.

  All I wanted was sleep, but the dogs needed to be fed and I didn’t have anything to give them. While I wanted to head straight back to the apartment, I trudged the extra four blocks to the grocery store, which was open all night. I left the dogs tied to a bike stand, got them a bag of food, and headed home.

  Greg was still at his station when I staggered in. Offering me a grin, he grabbed both of my bags and came around the front desk. “I’ll carry these down for you. I spoke with Mr. Perron and he’ll come by in a few hours with an updated lease for you.”

  “Thanks, Greg.” I was too tired to object. While I hadn’t bought that much, two bags and two dogs were more than what I was willing to juggle. It was hard enough not stumbling over my own feet.

  Once safely in my apartment, I unclipped the dogs from their leashes, sent Dominic a photo of both of them chowing down on kibble, and then staggered to bed.

  I don’t know how long I was out for, but a persistent knocking at my door roused me. Rocky and Silver were in bed with me, and I was impressed it hadn’t collapsed beneath their combined weight. I was glad I had indulged in a queen-sized bed, or we wouldn’t have all fit.