Storm Wolf

by Jane Godman

  Odessa raised a trembling hand to her throat. “Did my father know all of this when he helped Fenrir to escape?”

  Angrboda’s expression was sympathetic. “Yes, my child, he knew.”

  Lowell saw Odessa’s eyes widen as she comprehended for the first time the enormity of what Santin had done when he freed Fenrir. Her father had selfishly placed the whole of civilization at risk to ensure his own release from prison. The brotherhood really had been on a mission to save the world when they had hunted Fenrir through the streets of New York eighteen months ago He hid a wry smile at the image of the seven of them as comic book heroes.

  Angrboda continued with her story. “The gods used trickery against Fenrir to get him to place himself in the chain. They told him it was it was a challenge of strength. When Fenrir saw it he was suspicious that such a harmless looking thing would not hold him. There was only one god whom Fenrir trusted. This was Tyr, the god of honor and justice. Tyr had cared for Fenrir throughout his life. To prove to Fenrir that the he would come to no harm, Tyr placed his hand in Fenrir’s mouth as he was bound by the chain. When he knew he had been tricked, Fenrir bit off Tyr’s hand.”

  Gunnar held up his right hand to show a prosthetic limb. “I am known as Gunnar now, but many years ago I was called Tyr. I raised the wolf god, Fenrir—your grandfather—as my son, attempting to tame his wild passions and teach him love and honor. Fenrir has all the positive traits of wolf hood. He can be loyal and fearless, show love for his pack and protect them against all who would harm them. But his capacity for destruction raged out of control. When the time came to chain him, I was the only one he trusted. I had no choice but to betray him.”

  Gunnar’s emotion was tangible and it still shocked Lowell that the man he had known for centuries had kept his identity hidden from his friends for so long. Gunnar had been their strong, reliable, good-humored leader. None of them had ever suspected that he was actually the great god Tyr. Nor had they ever known that he was harboring a secret and unrequited love for Angrboda. Now, he and the goddess were together, and they shared responsibility for making sure Fenrir could never escape again.

  Having seen Fenrir in action, Lowell always felt slightly uncomfortable at the note of love and sympathy he heard from Angrboda and Gunnar when they spoke of the mighty werewolf. Fenrir was a destructive monster, yet when they talked about him, it was as if he was a troubled boy.

  “You said there have been some problems,” Lowell prompted now. “What does that mean? When Fenrir is chained, surely he is docile?”

  “That’s true,” Angrboda said. “But, over the last twelve months, we have suspected that he may be using his powers of telepathy.”

  “How would you know that?”

  “It’s very difficult to tell, of course. When Fenrir is chained, the sword between his jaws props them open”—Angrboda saw Odessa’s shudder of horror and patted her hand—“believe me, the alternative would be far worse, my child. If Fenrir could use his jaws no one around him would survive.”

  Odessa nodded. “I’m sorry. It was just that image.” She slid her hand into Lowell’s and he took a moment to examine the warm, bright feeling that flooded his chest at the trusting gesture. He wasn’t ready to give the emotion a name, but he liked it. A lot.

  “Because of that sword, Fenrir cannot communicate with us and he remains in a trancelike state. Lately, however, we have noticed that he seems more conscious. There has been a gleam of cunning in his eyes when he looks at us. But that’s not all.” Angrboda’s face was troubled. “Fenrir inherited his powerful telepathic powers from his father, Loki, but I have some clairvoyant ability of my own, and I have intercepted some of his messages.”

  “Who is he communicating with?” Lowell asked.

  “I don’t know. I only hear some of what they are saying. And, since it involves a plan to wipe out all werewolves, I decided I needed to come here.

  * * *

  Odessa was tired and overwhelmed. Added to everything else, her right hand hurt so much she could barely concentrate on what Angrboda was saying. That tiny cut made by the game piece Alexei had shown her a few days ago was getting worse instead of better. When she examined it, there was barely a mark on her palm, but it ached as though her flesh had been slashed open with a razor blade. Lowell had licked the wound, which meant it should have healed faster than usual. So why had her ability to heal somehow gone into reverse? She flexed her fingers in annoyance.

  “Are you okay?” Lowell spoke quietly, so only she could hear.

  She nodded, glad of his reassuring warmth next to her, his fingers still entwined with those of her uninjured hand. In all of this madness, at least she had him. Do I have him? She glanced at his profile as he listened to Angrboda. So resolute, noble, and closed off. She had no idea how he felt about her beyond the fierce physical attraction they shared. Now was probably not the time to dwell on that. She had him here and now. And she wasn’t going to be too proud or too strong to cling to him.

  “The messages between Fenrir and his coconspirator were centered on three things. The first was about reigniting the war between the Arctics and the Siberians. The second was about destroying the brotherhood.”

  The other members of the brotherhood had been listening in silence, but at that their collective snarls rumbled like thunder around the room. “How?” Lowell asked.

  “The details weren’t clear.”

  “What was the third thing?” Odessa asked. The first two were bad enough. Did she really want to hear number three?

  Angrboda cast an apologetic look at her. “The third was about you, my child.”

  “Me?” Odessa was aware that the word came out as an undignified squeak.

  “Fenrir has been discussing someone who has an obsession with you,” Angrboda said. “He—I’m assuming it’s a he—has been thinking about you for a long time.”

  Lowell’s fingers tightened on hers convulsively so that Odessa was forced to utter a protest. “Sorry.” He eased his grip slightly as he turned back to Angrboda. “But you have no idea who this person is?”

  “No, but I don’t think the person Fenrir is communicating with is the person who is fixated on Odessa. I got a sense of that obsession being manipulated by whomever Fenrir is scheming with. Their telepathic communication included details of the magic they would use to dupe the Arctics and the Siberians into resuming hostilities. Judging by what happened here earlier tonight, I assume that has already begun?”

  “I’m not sure it has started yet,” Odessa said. “That’s certainly the intention, but I don’t know whether either the Arctics or the Siberians have had time to mobilize against each other. I’ve been thinking about it and I don’t think those wolves who came here earlier were launching an attack against the brotherhood. They clearly weren’t expecting to find all of us here.”

  “That’s true,” Wilder said. “Which means they were here to get you, Lowell.”

  Lowell nodded slowly. “Or they knew Odessa was here, so it was about both of us.”

  That comment raised too many questions for Odessa. “How would anyone know I was here? The only people we told were the brotherhood. Even my own mother doesn’t know where I am. And those were real wolves disguised as werewolves, they didn’t have any sort of plan.” She was aware that her attempt to sound vehement might have tipped over into frenzied and did her best tone it down. She flexed her painful right hand in an effort to ease the throbbing.

  As if in response to her statement, Valetta came into the room. “It took a while, but I tracked our wolves down to a wildlife sanctuary near the Canadian border. This group of wolves had been rescued from a breeder who was planning to sell them as domestic pets. That’s illegal, so the breeder was prosecuted and the wolves were taken to this sanctuary.” She cast a worried look around her. “Here’s the scary thing. The guy I spoke to at the sanctuary said they would never be released into the wild. They were too tame. Just like big, docile dogs, is what he said.”

 
“Well they were big, but they certainly weren’t docile.” Sebastian traced a fresh scratch on his cheek reminiscently.

  “Did the guy you spoke to say how they got out?” Lowell asked.

  “They were stolen yesterday,” Valetta said. “He has the images on his closed circuit television. Someone came along with wire cutters, cut through the fence and lured the six wolves into the back of a truck with some meat.”

  “Yesterday?” Odessa did a quick calculation. “That means it happened when we were on our way back from Siberia.”

  “Supposing we were followed? If your mystery admirer wanted to get rid of me and make it look like part of the conflict between the Arctics and the Siberians this was one way to do it. Those wolves were under the influence of some kind of magic. We all saw the way they seemed to be listening to something or someone before that wolf attacked the goddess.”

  “But if this person who is obsessed with me knew I was here, what did he intend to do with me?” Odessa asked. “Were the wolves going to kill us both?”

  “No, I think he had other, far more sinister plans for you.” Lowell’s lips thinned into a hard line. “Which means he was close by waiting to come in here and claim you once the wolves had disposed of me.”

  Samson nodded. “That means all of us”—he gestured around the room—“were an inconvenience, to say the least.”

  Lowell turned to Odessa. “That’s not all it means. A guy who’s prepared to start a war for you? Track you halfway across the globe? Kill anyone who gets in his way, including the goddess? He’s going to keep trying until he gets what he wants.”

  Odessa swallowed hard. “And what he wants is me?”

  “It certainly looks that way.”

  * * *

  Lowell wasn’t used to his house being full of people. Hospitality was not one of his strengths. Playing host to a goddess? That was way beyond the realms of his experience. Luckily, Angrboda seemed realistic in her expectations and wasn’t insisting on a host of servants or gold fittings in her room. By the time he had allocated rooms to his numerous guests and made sure they had everything they needed, the night sky was lightening. Lowell’s head was spinning, but he was exhausted and needed to catch a few hours’ sleep.

  When he reached his own room, Odessa was already lying in the vast bed, waiting for him. He allowed himself a brief moment of indulgence to enjoy the experience. To just drink in the vision of her dark hair spread out on the pillow and the warm smile in her eyes as he approached her. He had a tiny daydream that this was his life and he could see her here every day.

  Quickly removing his clothing, he drew her into his arms. She molded her body to his, sweet and warm and yielding.

  “Sleep.” He murmured the word into her hair and she made a contented sound of agreement.

  Some time later, he woke, not fully refreshed, but with the edge of exhaustion gone and the previous night’s conversations replaying repeatedly in his head. So many things didn’t add up, but one question remained more insistent that the others. Everything had escalated rapidly since he had confronted Odessa in Florida. Why was that? Had that encounter been some sort of trigger? His thoughts were derailed as Odessa stirred and gave a soft cry when her right hand brushed his chest. Biting her lip, she opened her eyes.

  “Show me your hand.” Lowell switched on the bedside lamp, recalling that she had shown signs of it causing her pain the previous evening.

  “There is no nothing to see.” She held up her hand with the palm facing him. “It is the most ridiculous thing. It’s barely a scratch, yet it has been hurting more and more ever since I did it.”

  Lowell held her wrist, bending his head over her hand and examining the tiny red mark in the center of her palm. “I know this happened on the day I came to New York, but how did you do it?”

  “It was nothing, just a silly accident. I was looking at some pieces for a new game when one of them slipped and cut my hand.” As he lifted his head, she frowned. “Why would how I did it matter?”

  Lowell sighed. “It probably doesn’t. Maybe I’m paranoid and seeing Chastel and Fenrir hiding around every corner. I just remember what Valetta said about them—that mysterious them—marking you. But if you were alone when you injured yourself . . .”

  Odessa sat up abruptly, turning wide shocked eyes upon him. “I wasn’t alone.”

  Lowell moved into a sitting position next to her. “Who was with you?”

  “Alexei, my personal assistant.”

  “But he didn’t cause the injury to your hand?” He watched her face as she tucked her knees up under her chin and locked her arms around them.

  When she finally spoke, she did it slowly, as if she couldn’t quite believe what she was thinking. “Not directly, but he could have manipulated what happened. He brought the pieces to me and asked me to look at them. When I picked that one up—it was a replica of the sacred obsidian blade of Jotunheim—it cut me. I made a comment about taking it back to the drawing board, and Alexei said he’d do that right away. Then I left the building and bumped into you. It was nothing. With everything else going on, I barely thought about it.”

  “Remember what Valetta said? They have marked you.” Lowell pointed to her hand. “Tell me about Alexei. Is he the guy who was on the stage with you when you did your presentation in Florida?” He recalled a tall, thin man with blue-black hair and a habit of getting a little too close to Odessa.

  “He and his partner Serena have worked for me for two years. She was also with us on the stage. I only employ Siberians and they both came to me with excellent references. They have been amazing and they’ve helped me make my dreams for the company into reality.” She raised her eyes to his. “Until recently they have been the closest thing I’ve had to friends.”

  “Until recently?”

  “Now I have you.” Her half-shy, half-hopeful expression enchanted him.

  “Is that how you see us?” He was getting sidetracked, but he couldn’t help himself. “As friends?”

  She wriggled a little nearer. “Very close friends.”

  It was impossible to concentrate on anything but her warm, naked body pressed against his and the smile in those light blue eyes. “How close?” His voice was a gravely rasp.

  In response, Odessa shifted position, moving her lips slowly down his body, kissing her way over his abdomen and across his hip bones.

  “You’re injured . . .”

  “I wasn’t planning on using that hand.”

  She dipped her head lower and, as her tongue flickered out and swiped the swollen head of his cock, Lowell gave up any further thought of protest. He clenched his hands in her hair, lifting his hips and pushing the length of his erection toward her mouth. Odessa wrapped her left hand as far around his shaft as she could. Staring into his eyes, she licked him again, circling her tongue slowly around the thick, flared tip of his pulsing cock.

  Lowell jerked convulsively. A low rumbling growl issued from somewhere deep in his chest as molten desire poured through his veins, hot and heavy.

  She opened her mouth wide, teasing him as she took her time before taking his cock into the wet heat of her mouth. He grated in a painful breath, flames licking at his body, searing him with pain-pleasure as she allowed his hard length to slide deeper inside. Unable to control himself, he lifted his hips, thrusting in a short controlled rhythm in and out of her mouth. Filling her. Fucking her.

  Odessa moved with him, gliding back and forth, sucking his head on each stroke and licking the underside of his cock. Each rubbing, rasping suction on his sensitized flesh increased the flaming need and pushed him closer to the mind-numbing, muscle-ripping pleasure his body sought.

  “Too much,” he groaned.

  He drew out of her mouth, lifting her up and over his body, and opening her thighs so she could straddle him intimately. Odessa gasped as he raised her above him, lodging the head of his cock at her entrance before lowering her onto him. He held her hips, setting the pace, feeling her impatience as
he enforced a slow, steady rhythm instead of the wilder ride her body wanted. Odessa tossed her head, throwing the dark curtain of her hair back as she rose up and lowered herself, gripping him tight inside her. His hands tensed on her hips, his thigh muscles bunched, his pelvis pushed upward, driving him deeper and harder into her.

  After being in her mouth Lowell was close, hovering on the brink of orgasm as he watched her moving languorously above him, grinding herself onto the solid heat of his cock. The concentration on her face was absolute. A faraway look came into her eyes and he saw her stomach muscles clench.

  He grasped her hips harder, plunging her up and down onto him, using his cock to tear into her wildly, impaling then releasing her, feeling her climax immediately at the change in pace and pressure. Odessa screamed, jerked, and ground her pelvis against him as Lowell exploded, pouring his own hot release deep inside her.

  “Fuck.” Every emotion he had ever felt faded to nothing compared to the violence of what was storming through him right there and then. He clasped her tight to his chest, shuddering with the aftershocks of his climax and the intensity of his feelings. How did he begin to put this into words, even in his own head? Could he? Dare he?

  Odessa’s body continued to tremble as though small explosions were still being triggered deep inside her. Finally, she shifted her weight to one side and curled up next to him again.

  After long minutes of lying wrapped in his arms, she lifted her head to look at him. “So I guess we have to go to New York to talk to Alexei?”