The Wolf's Lover_An Urban Fantasy Romance

by Samantha MacLeod

  The EMT picked up her radio and said something in a rapid staccato before turning back to Barry. “That’s good,” she said. “That’s very helpful. Do you want to come to the hospital?”

  Dr. Barry Richardson, the world’s foremost authority on dragons in medieval literature, looked lost and broken. His hair stuck up on one side, and his glasses were crooked. There was a streak of black mud down the front of his suit jacket. “I...I don’t...”

  The EMT put an arm around his shoulder. “You’ve done everything you could,” she said.

  “No!” I yelled, crashing forward. “Barry! I’m sorry!”

  The fragile early spring sunlight shattered around me; the living room I’d shared with Barry Richardson swirled and faded like mist.

  I screamed. I screamed into the void for a very long time.

  WHEN I CAME BACK TO myself, my body was curled into a tight ball against the cold of the cave’s floor. My forehead pressed into the dirt and my shoulders heaved with dry sobs. I coughed, inhaled dirt, then coughed again. My head throbbed with a heavy, red ache, and every muscle in my body screamed. I rocked back on my legs, wiping my cheeks and blinking in the absolute blackness of the cave.

  God, I’d been such a shitty wife.

  I hid my head in my hands as if there were someone who could see me, judge me, and find me hopelessly wanting. My stomach cramped as I exhaled slowly. The burned air of the cave made my eyes water. It slowly occurred to me I might never find my way out of this cave. A long, slow death by dehydration and starvation might be the only thing waiting for me in this damn cave. I shivered. What a shitty way to go.

  Suddenly I wanted nothing more than to just collapse on the floor of this cave, to curl up in a ball and forget everything, all the horrible mistakes I’d made, my entire life with Barry Richardson. My stupid, wasted year in Maine after my suicide attempt, where the only bright spot had been my dreams of Vali.

  I raised my head, staring into the darkness. I’d felt something, like the delicate whisper of a moth’s wing brushing my cheek. And now the blackness of the cave held an infinitesimal hint of Vali’s sweet, wild scent. My heart jumped, and I forced myself to stand.

  “Vali?” I asked, raising my voice just above a whisper.

  I heard nothing but the bounce and echo of my own words. Still, he’d been here. Vali had made it this far. I inched forward, whispering his name.

  Eventually I could see my hands again, although this time the darkness in the cave wasn’t lifting. Rather, it was shifting, becoming thicker and picking up a red tint. My fingers pushed through phosphorescent smoke, leaving trails of red light where they disturbed the air.

  I heard something, a low, soft rustling, like the rattle of dry leaves across bones. I froze, and the red light swirled around my body. The sound continued, a long, low hiss. It moved, reverberating around the cave, until it was impossible to tell if it was coming from behind me, in front of me, or if it was passing right next to me.

  The noise stopped, and the cave was once again perfectly silent. My mouth went dry, and my heartbeat seemed very loud.

  There was a sudden flare of light ahead. I jumped backward. It vanished and reappeared, vanished and reappeared. My arms and legs trembled with the effort of suppressing the overwhelming impulse to run.

  The light flashed on once more, and this time it stayed on. It was an enormous, perfectly round circle of flaming red, with a vertical black slit down the middle. As I watched, the slit expanded and then narrowed, like a symmetrical crack in the sphere of flame.

  It’s not a light, I realized. My entire body went cold.

  It’s an eye.

  CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

  “Well. Aren’t you interesting?”

  The voice came from everywhere and nowhere, from the empty space behind me, from the walls surrounding me. It was thick and rich, and it sounded almost amused.

  My head spun as I tried to remember how to breathe. The enormous eye rolled in its socket. I was dimly aware of another, larger movement. Something almost incomprehensibly huge shifted in the empty blackness of the cave. A dull, red glow came from somewhere far above me.

  “And have you come to stop me, Karen, daughter of Elizabeth, granddaughter of Claire, of the line of Orleans?”

  The red light pulsed and swam around me. For a moment, it seemed like I could almost see them, my mother and her mother and her mother before her, a line of women stretching away into the dark distance of the cave. I shook my head and dug my fingernails into my palms, the sharp pain clearing my vision.

  “No,” I said. My voice sounded very small. “I haven’t come to stop anyone.”

  The creature shifted, its massive body making a sound very much like a sigh. “Then begone.” The enormous eye began to close.

  “Wait! Níðhöggr!”

  The eye opened wide, once again focusing on me. The air warmed as the enormous thing stared at me.

  “I’m here for—I mean, I’m looking for—” I stammered.

  There was a thrashing, scraping noise somewhere far behind me. “Yes. I know why you’re here.”

  It fell silent. My pulse pounded in my ears.

  “Is he—Is Vali still alive?”

  That shifting sigh again. The eye narrowed. “I cannot kill the bearer of Hrotti, enjoyable as that would have been.”

  Relief flooded through my exhausted body. Vali was alive. Thank all the gods, Vali was alive.

  “Where is he?” I whispered.

  “Oh, there’s not much left of him, Karen of the line of Orleans.”

  My stomach dropped. “Where is he?” I said.

  The eye rolled back to focus on me, and the air between us grew even warmer. “You,” Níðhöggr said. “You, I could certainly kill.”

  Well, shit. I remembered Zeke offering me a ski pole, and then I imagined myself swinging my puny little duct-tape-covered ski pole over my head before this massive flame-colored eye. It was such a stupid idea, I actually laughed.

  The eye narrowed. The air in the cave was growing uncomfortably hot. I remembered Colin offering me bear spray, and I snorted another laugh. Karen McDonald, off to slay a dragon with a ski pole and grizzly bear spray.

  I’m going to die wishing I had a fucking ski pole and a can of bear spray.

  I lost it. I started laughing hysterically, uncontrollably, a desperate barking, coughing laugh that sounded almost like it hurt. I laughed harder than I’d laughed in years, until tears rolled down my cheeks and my sides ached.

  “Most people scream,” the voice rasped, once my frantic laughter had calmed enough for me to catch my breath. “They beg me for mercy. Yet, you laugh. You are a bizarre little creature, Karen of the Orleans.”

  I wiped the tears from my cheeks, my ribs aching. “Oh, I’ve been called much worse,” I said. “Now, aren’t you going to kill me?”

  The eye shifted, and the air grew somewhat cooler. “Perhaps,” Níðhöggr said.

  The darkness flared suddenly, becoming a blaze of red and orange, and I squeezed my eyes shut, raising my hands to cover my face. Nothing happened. After a few slow breaths, I opened my eyes.

  Someone stood in front of me, a human figure dressed in dark jeans and a tight red shirt. At first, I thought it was a woman, but then he turned to face me and I realized I’d made a mistake. His chest was flat and muscular, his hips narrow.

  “Or maybe we can make a deal,” Níðhöggr said.

  I nodded, my mouth dry.

  Níðhöggr put his finger to his lips, a gesture that gave me an odd shiver down my back. “I suppose I can give you what you want. But—” He gave me a predatory grin, full of teeth.

  Then Níðhöggr spun on his heels, took a step backward, and turned to face me again. I blinked, my mind spinning. I was staring at a woman. How could I have thought she was a man? Her face was round, and her chest curved unmistakably with the swell of her breasts.

  “You have to try to stop me,” she said, her voice smooth as honey.

  “Oka
y,” I stammered. “How do I—”

  She smiled, and the world went black.

  I GASPED. AIR TORE at my throat, making me cough. Panic surged through my gut and I gagged as something hard pressed against my nose.

  “Easy now,” said a deep, male voice. “Easy.”

  Firm hands grabbed my shoulders, and someone rolled my body onto my back. Hospital, I thought, panic surging through my body like an electric current. Am I back in the hospital?

  It took far more effort than I’d expected to force my eyes open. I took another heaving breath, my frantic heartbeat subsiding as I filled my lungs. I was staring at a pale turquoise sky streaked with high, delicate cirrus clouds. The roar and crash of waves echoed in my ears. The air was cold and heavy with a sharp, briny tang.

  Was I dead? Was there an ocean in the afterlife?

  “There. You’ll be fine.”

  I turned toward the voice and saw a rocky beach stretching out beneath me. A man sat next to me, staring at the waves. An old man. No, wait, maybe not an old man. Perhaps he was my age, floating in that odd limbo of middle age which could be anywhere from late twenties to early fifties.

  “Where—” My voice scratched at my throat, and I started to cough violently. The man ignored me until my coughing was over, and I lay shivering on the stones.

  “Well, now,” he said. “I suppose you’ll be going after him.”

  I pushed myself up to sitting. “What?”

  The man turned to face me. I noticed with an unpleasant shock that his right eye socket was empty. “He went that-a-way,” he said, pointing over his shoulder. “I imagine he’ll stick close to the water. Do what you can. I don’t expect much, but if you can get that sword away from him, you’ll be rewarded.”

  “Vali.” My heart surged like the waves. “He’s here? He’s still alive?”

  The man grinned at me, his lone, pale blue eye sparkling. Then he was gone. One second, I was staring at his empty eye socket; the next, I was alone on a rocky beach, listening to the crash of waves along the shore and the lonely cries of seagulls far overhead. I shivered. I was cold, hungry, and very, very tired.

  Feeling hungry convinced me that I wasn’t dead. I could understand being tired or cold if I were dead. But it was just too much of a stretch to think the dead would be hungry. After a few deep breaths, I staggered to my feet. The ocean stretched before me, gentle undulations of green and slate gray stretching to the mist-obscured horizon. A faint rainbow twinkled in the clouds skating above the waves. I turned and saw vibrant green, rolling hills climbing to meet a dark pine forest.

  And there was... something. I squinted, bringing my hand to my forehead to shield my eyes. Yes, there it was again. A quick, reflective flash of light somewhere on the hillside. My heart tugged in my chest.

  “Vali?” I whispered.

  I shook my head and stared down the beach. He went that-a-way, the man said, and it seemed true, somehow. It felt like Vali was there, between the crashing surf and the jagged rocks.

  “Vali,” I told the waves and the thick, salty air. “Hang in there. I’m coming.”

  My feet hurt as I limped across the rocky beach. Every muscle in my body ached with a dull, pervasive pain, like I’d tried to run a marathon the day before. An enormous cliff loomed in the distance, severing the ocean from those emerald green hills. I appraised it silently for several minutes before deciding to stay on the beach. The sun sank toward the distant forest and, with every step, a hard knot of apprehension in my chest tightened. Níðhöggr’s words echoed in my mind.

  There isn’t much left of him.

  CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

  By the time the sun fell behind the trees I was seriously regretting my decision to stay on the beach. The rocky strand had narrowed to a thin strip between jagged cliffs and crashing breakers, just perfect for twisting an ankle, and I was growing increasingly certain the damn tide was coming in. From the looks of the littoral zone along the cliffs, the water at high tide would be well over my head. A wave surged over the rocks and up my ankles, dumping cold seawater into my boots.

  “Fuck this,” I muttered, struggling to keep my balance while the wave clattered back to the ocean. “Vali must’ve climbed the cliffs.”

  A low, soft moan echoed across the dark rocks. My heart stopped. I stared at the slick, seaweed-covered strip of rocks in front of me. An enormous, half-submerged boulder blocked the way.

  “Vali?” I called.

  There was no response. In the still air, my heartbeat seemed loud enough to drown out the constant murmur of the hungry tide. Slowly, I scrambled across the rocks to the boulder. It was too slippery to climb, and I’d get drenched going around it.

  That low, pained moan came again, rippling across the water. Adrenaline shot through my body, and my exhaustion evaporated.

  “Vali!” I called. “Hang on, I’m coming!”

  I edged into the waves. My hands scrabbled across the seaweed covered boulder, looking for purchase. The ocean was freezing. The shoreline dropped off quickly, and I sank up to my waist before I reached the other side of the boulder. The waves rose to my breasts, making my jacket puff and float around me. My teeth were chattering violently by the time I dragged myself around the rock and out of the water. Behind the boulder was a small, sheltered cove of broken rocks and strange echoes, already knee-deep in water. It seemed deserted in the fading light.

  “Vali?” My voice trembled.

  “Leave.”

  I saw him the moment he spoke. He was sitting chest-deep in the water, the scabbard of his great sword Hrotti across his folded knees. His hair was drenched, and his red-rimmed eyes were wide and wild.

  “Vali, oh God, I’m so glad—” I stumbled toward him.

  He exploded to his feet, leaping backward until his body pressed against the cliff face. In an instant Hrotti was in his hands, its blade glowing a soft blue as it pointed directly at my heart. Some distant, rational part of my brain noticed his motions were quick and smooth; physically, he looked fine.

  But Níðhöggr doesn’t hurt you physically.

  “Don’t touch me,” he growled.

  “Vali, it’s me. Karen.”

  “Go. Away!” His eyes burned as he stared at me down the length of his sword.

  I swallowed and stepped closer to him. The water in the sunken cove rose to my hips. Vali’s sword remained level, its wicked blade inches from my chest. I held my hands up at my side.

  “I’m not going to hurt you,” I said.

  “I’ll hurt you,” Vali said. His voice was strange and distant, as if it were coming from far away.

  “Vali, I know about your brother Nari. I’m so sorry. It wasn’t your fault.”

  “I killed him,” he hissed, his voice low and thick. “I kill the ones I love. I’m a monster.”

  “No. Vali, stop it.” I tried to ignore the way Hrotti’s blade trembled in his hand as it moved closer to my heart. “You’re not a monster.”

  “Of course, I’m a monster. I was imprisoned as a monster.” His sword touched my chest and sank silently into the center of my jacket. “And, when the sea claims me, I’ll die as a monster.”

  I had a sudden vision of Vali’s body claimed by the sea, his long hair drifting in the current, his beautiful, golden eyes darkened forever. Hot, righteous anger surged through my frozen body, choking whatever reasonable argument I was about to make. After all I’d come through, after literally facing down a dragon, I was not going to watch Vali drown.

  “Oh, stop it!” I yelled.

  I grabbed the point of Vali’s stupid sword and pushed it away, although it burned my palm. My jacket ripped open with a low growl. I ignored the sting of pain in my hand and stalked toward him, cold sea water swirling and gurgling around my waist.

  “You think you’re a monster? You? Because you were trapped? Because you were tortured, and forced to do something terrible? That doesn’t make you a monster, Vali! That makes you the victim of monsters!” I screamed over the dark rum
bles of the ocean.

  Vali trembled. He stared at the sword in his hand like he’d never seen it before.

  “I’ve killed people,” he said. “Men. Women. I killed those who helped my father.” His voice echoed off the rocks. Tears streaked his cheeks, shimmering in what little remained of the day’s light.

  “So what?” I yelled. “So fucking what? You want to know what I did? You want to know what Níðhöggr showed me?”

  Vali stood silent and motionless. His eyes looked very large in his pale, tear-streaked face.

  “I killed myself!” I screamed.

  I paused, shoulders trembling, my breath catching in my throat. Vali stared at me with his mouth open.

  “You killed your brother, but you were under a spell. You’d just been transformed, and you killed Nari as a wolf. But me... I planned it out. I planned it for weeks. I calculated the lethal dose myself, then doubled it just to be sure. And I was not under someone’s goddamn spell.”

  My vision blurred. I wiped the back of my hand across my eyes, but it just encouraged a new flood of tears. Barry’s face filled my mind, the way he’d held my shoulders in the mud under the crabapple tree with his glasses askew and his shoulders heaving.

  “Don’t you dare tell me you’re the monster,” I said, although my voice was already half strangled with tears. I closed my eyes, blocking out Vali’s wide eyes and open mouth.

  An enormous, cold wave slammed into my shoulders, driving me face-first into the ocean. Seawater stung my eyes and my knees sang with pain as they crashed against the rocks. I shoved off the bottom and gasped as my head broke through the water. Saltwater stung my eyes. My feet clattered against the rocks, trying to find purchase. The wave was receding, dragging me into the black ocean with it.

  Strong hands grabbed my shoulders, pulling me to my feet. Vali’s tear-streaked face came into focus.

  “Karen, you have to leave. You’ll die here.”

  I threw myself against his chest, digging my fingers into his hair. “No,” I growled.