Storm Wolf

by Jane Godman

  “You must admit the mark on your hand is too much of a coincidence to ignore.”

  She nodded. “Just promise me one thing.”

  “If I can.” Lowell was concerned at the troubled note in her voice.

  “Alexei has always been my good friend. Let’s do this subtly.” Odessa rested her chin on his chest as she gazed into his eyes. “We could be wrong about this, so let’s not take the whole entourage when we first speak to him.”

  Lowell nodded. “Agreed. But we could be right, so the brotherhood comes to New York as backup.” He gave a groan and scrubbed a hand over his face.

  “What is it?”

  “Angrboda. I was just remembering the last time there was a god loose in New York City. It didn’t go well.”

  Chapter Ten

  Valetta was the only person who wasn’t making the journey from Fairbanks to New York. “I promised I would get the wolves back to their sanctuary.”

  They were all concerned that the animals found their way home, but Valetta had made it her personal responsibility and taken action. Having hired a truck to transport her lupine cargo, she had set off early the day after the wolf attack on Lowell’s house, extracting a promise from her husband that he would keep her informed as events unfolded.

  “If Chastel is alive, I need to know because that will mean you are in danger again.” Valetta had clung to Samson’s large frame as she kissed him goodbye.

  “If that crazy bastard is still alive you will be the first to hear,” he promised.

  Wilder had booked rooms in the same hotel the team had used when they had visited New York the previous year in pursuit of Fenrir. When Odessa had protested that she could stay in her own apartment, Lowell had overruled her.

  “You are the one in danger. We all stick together. Unless you have room in your apartment for nine guests including a goddess?” Odessa had mentally reviewed the space in her tiny one-bedroom apartment. Sometimes she felt cramped on her own. She shook her head. “Then it’s settled. We all stay in the hotel.”

  After checking into their rooms, they had met in the hotel restaurant for lunch. The waitress had raised her brows at ten orders of rare steak, but had made no comment. On their arrival in the vast, bustling city, Angrboda had surprised everyone with her announcement that she wanted to buy some clothes that would help her fit in better with the people around her. It was true that her long flowing robes were unusual, but her appearance was so striking she would stand out no matter what she wore. No one had been brave enough to tell her that.

  “Shopping with a goddess.” Jenny rolled her eyes. “What could possibly go wrong?”

  Odessa bit back a smile. It was impossible to dislike Jenny. She had a warm, open manner, an infectious smile, and a raunchy chuckle. Despite her efforts to keep the brotherhood at arm’s length, Odessa was getting to know them, finding herself drawn into the comradeship, even beginning to understand the in-jokes and the teasing. It was the weekend and Odessa and Lowell planned to head straight out to Alexei and Serena’s apartment, so Jenny had volunteered to escort Angrboda on a tour of the best department stores. “You are not exactly a standard size,” Jenny was saying, as the two women departed. “So we may also have to visit some specialty stores . . .”

  “Why didn’t I hear anything about a giant werewolf running wild in New York when Fenrir was here?” Odessa asked, the thought occurring to her as she pictured the goddess coming to grips with modern society.

  “Just because Fenrir is dangerous, don’t assume he is also stupid,” Gunnar said. “He disguised himself as a charismatic cult leader. You may have heard of him at the time. He called himself Van Marsh.”

  Odessa nodded. “I remember him. He hit the headlines with his huge following, then he just disappeared. That was Fenrir?”

  “Yes. He was exerting mind control over the people who attended his rallies, brainwashing them into accepting his version of a better world. We confronted him here in New York and Jenny sustained some horrible injuries in the process, but we managed to recapture him and return him to his prison at Jotunheim.”

  Lowell had finished his meal and was signaling that he was ready to go. It was no good putting it off any longer. Odessa couldn’t explain the feeling of reluctance that gripped her. She was sure they would find that Alexei wasn’t involved in this, so why didn’t she want to confront him and prove that? A feeling of dread had seized her ever since she had known she would have to do this. The apprehension had increased each time she tried, and failed, to call her mother. Although why that should be the case, Odessa had no idea. Emina delighted in her isolated status and gleefully shunned the modern world and its means of communication.

  Her mood was introspective as they made their way across town. She was back in New York again, but her view of this city had changed forever. It no longer felt like home and that realization shocked her. It forced some harsh truths upon her, making her take a long, hard look at herself. Questioning what she had believed she knew about her life and her motivation wasn’t something that came easily to her, but she decided it was time to suck it up. And she guessed the truth must be glaringly obvious to anyone but her.

  She had been so busy trying to prove she wasn’t like her father. That she wasn’t single-minded, ruthless, and obsessed. So she had poured everything she had into her human life and her work and it was only now, when she had some breathing space and could step back, that she could see it.

  “Oh my God.” The exclamation was startled from her.

  “What is it?” Lowell, walking alongside her as they approached the apartment block where Alexei and Serena lived, glanced down at her in surprise.

  “It’s just hit me . . . I have turned into my father.”

  * * *

  “You might be like him in his single-mindedness and determination, but you are nothing like him in other ways. He was a cruel man, Odessa. You don’t have that trait.” Lowell attempted to reassure her.

  “The saddest thing is that you knew him better than I did.” Her lips twisted into a smile. “My mother only ever told me what a great man he was.”

  There was no way to respond to that. What Lowell knew of Santin was that the Siberian leader had been an evil, murdering bastard. But this was his daughter looking up at him with those incredible ice-chip eyes. They were eyes that, on first impression, could make her appear cold and unfeeling, but Lowell knew her better now. He knew that behind the ice queen façade she was sensitive and easily hurt. He searched his memory to find some redeeming features in her father’s personality. But there weren’t any. Santin had been malevolent and destructive. Lowell wanted to offer Odessa more than that, because of his feelings for her . . .

  Feelings he didn’t quite understand. Feelings so strong they almost brought him to his knees every time he attempted to analyze them. Feelings that scared him more than anything he had ever encountered throughout the many, eventful centuries of his long life. Feelings that were maybe best examined another time.

  “The person who knew him best was your grandmother. You should ask her to tell you more.” He winced at the inadequacy of the words. It was a blatant cop-out, but Odessa seemed satisfied.

  “This is it.” She looked up at the apartment block. “I’ve only been here a few times. We are work colleagues. We don’t really hang out.”

  “How will they react to my presence?” Lowell asked.

  “They’ll react the same way any Siberian would to an Arctic. With distrust and dislike. But there’s something else.” She drew a breath. “Serena already knows about you and me.”

  Lowell frowned. “How?”

  A rosy blush infused Odessa’s cheeks. “She saw us in Florida. Not everything, but enough to know something had happened between us.”

  Lowell processed that information as Odessa pressed the buzzer for Alexei’s apartment. It nagged at him, as if a nerve had been exposed and something was pressing on it. It was only when Odessa had exchanged a few words with Alexei and they were e
ntering the building that Lowell identified the source of his discomfort. This madness had begun around the time he and Odessa had met. Around the time one of these friends found out about their encounter in that hotel garden . . .

  He didn’t have time to properly formulate that thought, let alone express it out loud to Odessa. They were already exiting the elevator on the seventh floor and Alexei, the man he remembered from the Florida presentation was waiting for them in the hallway, an expression of concern clouding his handsome features. When he recognized her companion as the man who had disrupted their launch, Alexei forgot about concern and became outraged.

  “What the hell?”

  “Lowell is here to help.” Odessa placed a hand on Alexei’s arm in a soothing gesture. Lowell noticed that it had an instant effect on the other man. Instant and—what? Lowell tried to read Alexei’s reaction—was the guy aroused by Odessa’s hand on his arm? Odessa appeared not to notice anything unusual. “Can we go inside?”

  The apartment was not what Lowell had been expecting. From what Odessa had told him of these people, he’d pictured something artistic and innovative. This was a bland, functional space, as if Alexei and Serena ate and slept here but barely noticed their surroundings. This was not a home, it was a stopping-off point. The alarm bells that had been chiming in the background began to ring louder inside Lowell’s head. His inner wolf pushed hard for release, a sure sign that something was off. As Odessa took a seat on a gray fabric-covered sofa, Lowell continued to look around, his senses on heightened alert.

  “Is Serena here?” Odessa asked.

  “She had to go out of town. I suppose you want to know about the attack on the office?” Alexei threw a suspicious glance in Lowell’s direction. “We haven’t been able to get back in there since it happened . . .”

  Lowell had lost interest in the conversation. His gaze was fixed on a picture on the wall. It was the only picture in the room. There were no family photographs, no landscapes or abstracts to lighten or brighten the decor. Just this one photograph. The fact that it was the only one conferred an additional significance upon it. It was a head and shoulders shot of a man Lowell knew well. He would never forget that smug smile. It was a face he had hoped he would never have to see again.

  He moved up close to Alexei, enjoying the other man’s unease. “How long have you been a Hellhound?”

  * * *

  “I don’t understand.” Odessa looked from Lowell to Alexei in confusion.

  “Ask your friend here why he has a picture of Jean Chastel on his wall.” There was restrained fury in Lowell’s voice as he loomed over the smaller man.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Alexei’s eyes veered wildly around the room refusing to settle on any one item and he licked his lips.

  “That”—Lowell jabbed a finger in the direction of the picture—“is the greatest werewolf bounty hunter ever known. But you already know that, don’t you? You are one of his followers.”

  “How can that be possible?” Odessa was having trouble processing what Lowell was suggesting. “Alexei and Serena are werewolves. Why would they follow the man who swore to kill all werewolves?”

  “Why indeed?” Lowell moved even closer to Alexei, causing the other man to back up until he was pressed against the wall. “Have you ever seen this guy shift?”

  “No.” Odessa’s heart began to thud uncomfortably. She could see where Lowell’s questions were going. If Alexei and Serena weren’t werewolves . . . “I haven’t seen Serena shift into her wolf form either.”

  “How about it?” He smiled at Alexei. Only it wasn’t a smile. Odessa had never seen that look on Lowell’s face and she didn’t like it. In that instant he was a stranger. A cold, cruel stranger. She saw the fear in Alexei’s eyes at Lowell’s next words. “We need you to shift for us.”

  “Are you mad?” Alexei gasped. He looked at Odessa. “You can’t be serious about this guy. Serena told me she’d seen you with an Arctic werewolf, but I didn’t believe her. Then, after what happened at the office . . .”

  “Shut up and do it,” Lowell snarled.

  I shouldn’t like this side of him, but I do. Everything about Lowell appealed to her innermost instincts, and this display of power was no exception. He was protecting her and it was the ultimate proof of his alpha-ness. His dominance, his strength, his determination, all had her female wolf bowing submissively to him. But it was more than that. Her human appreciated him, too. Her life was in danger and this man she barely knew had reached out, wrapped those big strong arms around her, held her close and made her feel safe. When she needed him most, he was there. In that instant, she knew beyond doubt he always would be.

  Alexei was still blustering. “This is my apartment. You can’t just burst in here and make demands.”

  Lowell folded his arms across his chest. “I’m waiting.”

  “Why won’t you shift?” Odessa asked. “It’s the simplest way to prove to us that you are a werewolf.”

  “Because I’m not a werewolf, okay?” The words exploded from Alexei’s lips like water from a burst pipe. He slid abruptly down the wall into a crouching position as though his knees refused to support him any longer. Burying his head in his hands, he began to sob. Odessa regarded him in shock, and felt her world tilt even further off balance. She had worked alongside this man for two years with no clue that he wasn’t who he claimed to be. Alexei was one of the few people she had trusted implicitly. In an instant, that trust had been stripped away, leaving her raw and vulnerable.

  Some of the icy rage left Lowell’s face as he stared at the whimpering figure at his feet. “I don’t think we’re looking at our criminal mastermind.” Hauling Alexei to his feet, he deposited him on the sofa next to Odessa. “It’s time to start talking.”

  “It wasn’t my idea.” Alexei cast a sidelong glance in Odessa’s direction. “I wanted to come clean from the start, to tell you that I wasn’t a werewolf, but Serena said you would never have considered me for the job.”

  Odessa’s head was spinning. How could he have fooled her so spectacularly? Over the years she might have deliberately subdued her wolf senses in favor of her human, but not to the extent where she couldn’t recognize a werewolf. Her employment policy at Santin Creative was simple. Everyone who worked for her was a Siberian werewolf. It was her way of giving something back to her heritage. Okay, maybe it was also her way of appeasing her conscience. Of saying, “I may be an absent leader, but I give these young, artistic cubs a chance.”

  No. She shook her head. She had not been fooled. “You are a werewolf.”

  Alexei hung his head. “Serena said it was the only way. That I had to have a disguise that was perfect or you would know.”

  Lowell’s gaze went to the picture on the wall. “It wasn’t a disguise, was it? It was magic.”

  Alexei nodded miserably. “That was the first time I met the master. He cast a spell on me so I appeared to be a Siberian.” He raised his eyes and looked directly at Odessa, as if pleading for understanding. “When I first me you, I was terrified out of my wits. I thought you would see through me instantly, but you accepted me. Throughout the last two years you have never once questioned me. That’s what made me understand how powerful the master can be.”

  “You can spare us the Chastel publicity talk. I’ve heard it all before.” Lowell’s lips drew back in a snarl.

  “You said you had never met Chastel before. Does that mean Serena took you to him? That she was one of his followers?” Odessa asked.

  “Yes Serena took me to meet him, but she is not a Hellhound. Unlike me, Serena is a werewolf.” Alexei’s voice gained a little confidence. “He even made us look alike. Chastel said it would be a nice touch.”

  “Why was it so important to you to get these jobs with Santin Creative? Getting yourself bespelled so that you appear to be a werewolf is a hell of a lot of trouble to go to for a job. There are other games companies out there. What was so special about this one?” Lowell aske
d.

  Alexei licked his lips. “It wasn’t Santin Creative that was important.”

  Odessa felt that icy hand that had been around her heart since Florida squeeze a little tighter. “It was about me.”

  Lowell’s golden gaze darkened to a blazing amber as he looked down at Alexei. “You are the person who has been obsessed with Odessa.”

  “No.” Alexei shook his head so hard he must have gone dizzy. “Not me. It was Serena.”

  And with those words so many pieces of the puzzle fell into place. Odessa saw Serena’s face as she approached her at the hotel elevator in Florida. Remembered the blaze of emotion in the other woman’s usually cold eyes. Felt the pent-up emotion emanating from her as Serena kissed her cheek. Ever since then, this destructive chain of events had been spiraling out of control. She saw Alexei coming into her office with the game pieces and saying, “Serena asked me to show you the prototypes for the next game.”

  She held up her right hand, pointing to the mark on her palm with the index finger of her left. “What is this?”

  “I’m sorry . . .”

  “Stop being sorry and tell me.” Her voice cracked out, and Alexei flinched as though he felt the sting of a whip lashing his shoulders.

  “I don’t know how it works, but it means Serena can track you. She—and the Hellhounds—can use it to know where you are all the time.”

  “How do I get rid of it?” In that moment, she’d have considered cutting her hand off as a serious option.

  “I don’t know.” Alexei risked a scared look in Lowell’s direction and quickly lowered his eyes again.

  “Where is Serena now?” Lowell’s voice was tight.

  Alexei swallowed hard. “New Hampshire.”

  Odessa closed her eyes, a soft moan escaping her lips. Lowell moved swiftly to her side, dropping to one knee beside her and catching hold of her hand. “What is it?”

  “My mother lives in New Hampshire.”

  “When you said she lived in seclusion in the forest, I assumed you meant in Siberia.”