Tales of the Winter Wolf, Vol. 1

by R. J. Blain

  “Upstairs it is,” he said, rising to his feet. “Come on, Richard, before she sinks her teeth into you, too.”

  I considered asking clarification regarding which woman, but thought better of it. I was in enough trouble as it was.

  When Nicolina had sworn she would kill me, she meant it.

  I found her first present when it sank its fangs into my foot. I’m not sure where she had found a rattlesnake or how she managed to slip it into my shoes without getting bitten, but there was nothing pleasant about being assaulted by a snake first thing in the morning.

  Choking back a startled howl, I kicked it off, succeeding in pissing it off even more. It managed to bite me three more times before I chased it down and killed it.

  If she wanted to play, I’d play. I left its corpse on her pillow as a warning I would survive anything she tossed at me and as a promise I would provide for her in the future. My wolf liked the idea.

  I savored her scream when she found it.

  The second time she tried to kill me, I was worried and intrigued, and once again considered alterations to my life insurance policy. I had no idea how she had managed it, but the silver dagger dangling over the door of the guest bedroom was a very lethal reminder of just how serious she was about finishing me off once and for all.

  Normally, the trick wouldn’t have worried me, but I had seen what the blade had done to Wendy. With a weapon that old, a stab would make me miserable although it’d have to be a solid hit to kill me outright. I couldn’t even tell if Nicolina realized how dangerous the weapon was. While I could smell the girl in the room, her scent wasn’t marred with lethal intent. My instincts told me it was a puppy’s prank, meant to warn me away.

  I wasn’t even interested in her sister, though I had no doubts when Nicolina found out I wanted her, she would redouble her efforts to hunt me down and kill me.

  My cell phone rang while I was trying to come up with a plan for removing the dagger without it killing me. I pulled it out of my pocket and answered it without looking at the display, “Murphy.”

  “Richard,” my Second whined in my ear.

  “Frank, the last time you whined at me, you had crashed my brand new sled into a tree. What did you do?” I clucked my tongue as I busied myself determining how Nicolina had jury-rigged her trap. If I opened the door, it’d fall on me. Considering my luck over the past few days, it’d probably pierce right through my skull. I had no idea how she had managed to screw the hook over the door without my waking up and noticing what she was doing.

  My wolf probably had noticed, thought her attempts were amusing, and had gone right back to sleep. He was going to get the both of us killed if he kept it up.

  “Mr. Desmond won’t let me on his property.”

  I blinked. “You’re in Seattle?”

  “Of course we’re in Seattle you pea-brained piece of shit!” Frank bellowed.

  Yelling at my Second wasn’t going to do me any good. I drew a deep breath, sighed, and said, “Okay. How many of you are here?”

  “Just me and Luke,” he replied.

  I clenched my teeth. Frank I trusted not to pull any tricks, but Luke was a different story. Luke liked control, liked power, and wasn’t strong enough to take it on his own. He was one of my mistakes, but he hadn’t toed the line enough to warrant exile from the pack—or execution. So he hovered low on the totem pole right along with the submissive wolves, watching and waiting for his chance.

  I held the opinion that it was in the better interests of the pack to keep my mouth shut about the problem. If Luke wanted to have a chance at me, he was running out of time.

  At the rate things were escalating, Nicolina Desmond really was going to kill me first.

  “Luke, huh?”

  “He begged,” Frank replied and he matched my sigh for one of his own. “Sorry, Richard. The pack’s worried.”

  “Hey, Frank.” I paused, once again looking at the dagger dangling overhead. “Let’s say you had a set up a silver dagger over a door to drop it down on someone. What would you do to make it as effective as possible?”

  “Are you drunk, drugged, or otherwise indisposed, Richard?”

  “No, I assure you that I’m not.”

  “I guess I’d make sure that whenever my victim tried to disarm it or open the door, it stabbed them. Why are you asking?”

  “No reason,” I lied, leaning over to check the knob. Unlike most indoor houses, Desmond’s interior knobs used old-fashioned push latches on many of the rooms, including the guest bedroom. A piece of tape secured a monofilament line to the latch. In the best case scenario, I’d end up with a cut and a mild case of silver poisoning just from trying to open the door.

  “That’s not comforting, Richard. What’s wrong?”

  I laughed. “Nothing’s wrong.”

  My wolf adored the attention Nicolina was giving us.

  “If you’re sure.”

  “I’m sure. Lay low and don’t bother Desmond. He’s had a rough few days. No need to ruffle his feathers. He’s got me under lock and key for the moment. I’ll call the lodge in a few hours. Once he’s comfortable, I’ll ask him to let you visit—but just you.”

  “Not Luke?”

  Maybe I was being paranoid, but I hesitated. “Just you.”

  Frank was my Second because I could trust him, not because he was the strongest wolf second to me in the pack; I could—and would—give him all of the power he needed through the pack bonds to stand up against any one of the others seeking to take advantage of my weakness.

  Beyond Luke, I couldn’t think of anyone who wanted to take over the pack by force, at least not from the inside. I’m sure there were lots of angry wolves I had left in my wake, ranging from those I hadn’t allowed into the pack or I had exiled for unacceptable behavior or endangering the pack.

  “You better tell me what’s going on soon,” Frank warned.

  “Later,” I promised. “I have a game to play with one of Desmond’s daughters now, if you’ll excuse me.”

  I heard a few clipped, muttered words, one of which was lucky. The other was bastard. I hung up on him.

  If Frank learned about Nicolina’s murder attempts, he’d die laughing and never let me live it down. I bounced the phone in my hand, looking around the room for something to trigger her trap without the blade hitting me on its way down.

  I settled with my shoes. It was easier to replace them than it was to recover from silver poisoning. It took several tosses to knock the dagger down from the ceiling, where it embedded in the carpet with a thunk. Sighing, I grabbed one of my socks, folded it up, and used it to yank the blade out of the floor.

  Born a Fenerec, I was a little more resilient to silver than most. I could, when the need was great, handle it for a short time. In Yellowknife, I was the fool recruited to handle anything made of the metal. My pack was proud of how long I could deal with exposure to it before it poisoned me.

  When they were particularly annoyed with me or wanted to show me off, they exposed me to it.

  Usually, I lasted anywhere from thirty seconds to a minute before the first signs of poisoning took hold.

  It took the blade less than ten seconds to sear through the sock and singe my fingers. I tossed it on the desk, shaking out my hand. Unlike with Wendy, the marks on my skin were faint. In a few hours, all that I’d have as a reminder of the exposure would be a slight itch.

  Since Nicolina liked inflicting so much discomfort on me, I’d play her game and give her dagger back to her as a present, along with my shoes. Hopefully the stink of my feet, which had driven my pack to put air fresheners in my shoes on several occasions, would be sufficient to keep her away from the weapon for a few days. Bracing for the inevitable pain, I stowed the blade along with a pair of my dirty socks.

  Padding my way barefoot up to the third floor, I knocked on Nicolina’s door. There was no answer. The silver knob hadn’t been replaced, but it wasn’t enough to hurt me—not like the dagger. When I tested it, the doo
r opened. Her room was empty.

  I left my shoes in her closet, hidden in the darkest corner I could find.

  While Desmond was puzzled by my lack of shoes to go with my dress slacks and button-up shirt, his daughter worried. I enjoyed her startled expression when she saw me alive and well. Her eyes narrowed as she looked me over from head to toe, probably searching for where her dagger had scored me.

  I smiled at her, and my wolf was pleased by her fury.

  “Your Second called me,” Desmond said, leaning on his kitchen counter while his mate cooked breakfast.

  I stifled a yawn and nodded. “He called me, too. He brought another with him.”

  “You don’t sound happy about that.”

  “You might end up with an unwelcome visitor,” I warned, deciding if I didn’t tell Desmond, I wouldn’t have to worry about his daughter: he’d kill me for withholding a potential threat to his mate and children. “Luke’s been itching for a chance at me for moons.”

  “He won’t be the only one to come calling,” Desmond warned me in a tone that I took to mean that he had already dealt with some hopeful wolves.

  “I’m not exactly beloved,” I replied, shrugging. I leaned on the counter next to him. When he propped his elbow on my head, I pressed against him.

  Lisa’s eyes widened as she watched us, her mouth partially opening. I could smell her interest, and judging from her father’s huff, he had noticed as well.

  Nicolina, on the other hand, flexed her hands as though she wanted nothing more than to wrap her slender fingers around my throat. With her slim and delicate figure, I doubted she could do me lasting harm that way. If anything, my wolf was eager to give her the chance to try.

  It was going to be a long few weeks while I tried to curb Nicolina’s desire to murder me and my wolf’s desire to court the girl trying to either kill us or drive us away.

  “Got a picture of him?” Desmond asked. I pulled out my phone. If my pack knew I had hundreds of photographs of them on me at all times, they’d string me up and hang me to dry, but I couldn’t help it. I liked taking pictures of them, particularly when they were happy, although I had a folder on my laptop dedicated to blackmailing them. I had shots of them in both their human and wolf forms, and I showed Desmond Luke’s pictures.

  Like most Fenerec, Luke looked young, but the relative agelessness of our kind didn’t make him any better looking. He had a hard glint in his dark eyes, a cleft lip, and squared jaw that many found off-putting.

  Desmond took my phone and showed it to his daughters. “Have you seen him around, girls?”

  Lisa shook her head but Nicolina frowned and said, “He was at the end of the drive yesterday. I thought he was headed to the gas station down the street.”

  Yesterday I had spent asleep except for when Desmond had driven me out of bed and I had woken up once on my own to find my new pet rattlesnake.

  I didn’t do well with pets, especially ones inclined to bite and inject their owners with venom. The only one I wanted nipping me was my mate, and I’d give a great deal to savor the feel of her mouth and teeth on my throat.

  “He’s your pack,” Desmond said. “Deal with him, sooner than later.”

  I sighed. I wasn’t up for a confrontation, so when Desmond gave orders, I obeyed them. I wiggled my toes and considered whether or not I should reclaim my shoes from Nicolina’s closet.

  “As a wolf,” Desmond suggested. “Perhaps you might give my daughters a good look at you before you go, so they might know which wolf is you in the future.”

  I was really getting tired of Desmond bossing me around, but he was right. If I didn’t deal with Luke, there was the chance he’d get too close to Desmond’s daughters and mate. Grumbling, I left my cell with Desmond in case someone needed me.

  I used the bathroom to change to my wolf. Like me, he protested the necessity of it. Fighting pack was our least favorite task as an Alpha; fights too often ended in death or exile. Maybe Luke was a problem, but he was my problem, and I wanted to keep it that way. After the tussle with Desmond, changing hurt more than usual and took about twice as long.

  While winter hadn’t started quite yet, my fur grew in all of its silvered glory, shining metallic in the bathroom’s light. I shook myself off, sitting on my haunches to lick my paws and settle my coat. If Desmond wanted me to put on a show for his daughters, I’d make them look twice at me.

  Maybe Nicolina would think of her lethal little knife when she saw me and wonder what I was—and if she had scored a hit on me after all. My wolf enjoyed the idea of her spending her time thinking about us.

  I wasn’t in my prime and probably wouldn’t be for a few more days, but transforming had rejuvenated me as sleep hadn’t. Nosing open the door, I padded in the direction of the kitchen, slowing to a stalk as I drew close. Desmond was in the kitchen proper with his mate, stealing nips at her neck while both of his daughters protested his displays of affection.

  Nicolina’s position at the end of the table made it perfect for me to sneak up on her and tease her. Desmond caught sight of me, and either because of my perked ears, lolling tongue, or the slow wag of my tail, he didn’t betray me to his daughter.

  If Nicolina thought I wouldn’t take advantage of the fact she wasn’t focused on me and me alone, she was about to learn from her mistake. I positioned myself behind her, pleased she hadn’t tucked her t-shirt into her torn jeans.

  Wolf noses were cold and wet, and when I shoved my head under her shirt and rubbed her spine vigorously, she launched off the chair with a scream. The girl could jump; she hit the floor once, gathered herself, and flung herself over the kitchen counter at her father. She crashed over the fruit, sending the metal bowl and its contents clattering to the floor. Bursting into laughter, Desmond caught her.

  I sat, tongue lolling as I displayed my fangs in a grin.

  “That was not nice, Richard,” Wendy chided. She managed to keep her tone even and severe, but she bit her lower lip in her effort to keep tranquil and choke back her laughter.

  I stretched out, stepped out from under the table, and struck a pose for Lisa.

  She sucked in a breath. “He’s even prettier than you are, Dad.”

  Depositing his daughter on the counter, Desmond left the kitchen to regard me with a grin. “Ah, your winter coat grew in, did it? I was hoping it had.” Kneeling beside me, he dug his hands into my fur.

  Maybe I was a Fenerec, but my wolf was shameless. He loved the feel of fingers digging into our coat and rubbing at our skin. I never figured out why I was so much more sensitive to touch than others, but with Desmond running his fingers through the scruff of my neck, I leaned into him and couldn’t bring myself to care.

  “He’s melting,” Lisa blurted before giggling. “Why is he letting you touch him like that?”

  Most Fenerec didn’t like being stroked in wolf form, especially not by Normals or those outside of their pack. When Desmond paused in his scratching, I warbled a complaint.

  “Richard’s different. If you want to touch him, you can ask him for permission, but only if I or your mother are with you,” Desmond said, rubbing my ears.

  I wobbled and fell over onto him, bumping my head under his chin. As a human, I weighed in at two hundred pounds, give or take a few pounds. Muscle weighed a lot, and while I wasn’t all that tall or broad, Fenerec always weighed more than humans.

  As a wolf, I rivaled Desmond; when I wasn’t thinking about it or expecting a fight, I maxed out at three-fifty, my shoulders were easily waist high to most men. In my enthusiasm, I knocked Desmond over. I sprawled over his chest, thumping my tail on the floor as I settled on my side.

  “He’s also extremely heavy,” Desmond wheezed.

  “Can I touch?” Lisa asked, her eyes wide.

  With Desmond still scratching my ears, I didn’t want to move to nod my head, so I settled with wagging my tail. Four hands were better than two.

  “That would be a yes,” Desmond translated.

  Lisa knelt
by her father, reaching out to touch my shoulder. With a delighted cry, she dug her fingers in. “He’s so soft.”

  “I have considered inviting him to serve as a pillow a time or two,” Desmond admitted in a conspiratorial whisper. Lisa giggled.

  My cell rang. I lifted my head, pulling free of Desmond’s hands. I flicked my ears forward.

  “Answer that,” Desmond said.

  I expected Wendy to grab the phone, but Nicolina did. She narrowed her eyes at me as though deciding whether or not to humiliate me in some fashion, but then checked the display. “It says Frank.”

  “His Second. Go ahead and find out what he wants.”

  Nicolina drew a deep breath and sighed theatrically before answering, “Desmond residence, Nicolina speaking. The owner of this phone can’t come to the phone right now. He’s occupied whoring his furry ass out to my father and sister. Can I take a message?”

  There was a stunned moment of silence followed by Frank’s laughter. Wendy grabbed the phone out of her daughter’s hand. “Hello, Frank. It’s Wendy. Please forgive my daughter, she’s unaware of what she’s missing.”

  There were several ways I could’ve taken her comment, and I bottomed out at the worst conclusion. Judging from the way Desmond snorted, he had as well. “Indeed.”

  Teasing her daughter at my expense, Wendy sashayed out of the kitchen to sit beside Lisa, draping her arms and chest over me. “Oh yes, is she ever missing out. You’re so luxurious, Richard.”

  Once again, Frank burst out laughing.

  It was a good thing I couldn’t blush as a wolf. Like her daughters, Wendy was worth taking a second, very long look at, and Desmond knew it. He flicked my ear in warning before he rubbed me again. “Put it on speaker, Wendy.”

  His mate obeyed, setting the phone between my front paws before stretching over me again, digging her fingers into my belly fur. All of the tension flowed out of me and I went limp on Desmond, who grunted as my full weight settled on him.