by Lena Loneson
Noire felt more comfortable now in hiking gear and knowing her shotgun was nearby. This was the one place in the world where her body didn’t feel awkward or too strong. The beautiful forests of Algonquin were her territory, and she was an Amazon. Her warrior woman self simply carried a gun rather than a bow and arrow. Modern times, after all.
They stopped at a nearby Tim Horton’s coffee shop after that, hoping to catch the local gossip. Cam ordered an apple fritter and a black coffee, and Noire took some chamomile tea, hoping to calm her nerves.
She recognized Patrick McLennan, an older gentleman who was the father of one of the other park wardens, seated at a table with two of his friends. Pat was in his mid-seventies and could always be counted on to share the local gossip. She grabbed Cam’s arm and pulled him over to their table.
“Well, if it isn’t Noire Pelletier! Haven’t seen you in a few weeks!” The older man pulled Noire into a bear hug. She thrust her tea at Cam so it wouldn’t spill as each of the men hugged her in turn. They all sat down at one of the large plastic tables.
“Hey, Pat, great to see you but we can’t stay long. This is my friend and colleague, RCMP Constable Campbell Dawson.”
The men greeted Cam with firm handshakes, pleased to see a Mountie among them. Noire knew Cam’s presence would supply their gossip for the next week or two, so she let them enjoy it.
“Pleasure to meet you all, gentlemen,” Cam said, nodding to Noire to take the lead. She inhaled a deep breath, hoping that she wouldn’t fuck it up again like she had at the hostel.
“Pat, Duncan, Liam, you all heard about my sister Fawn.” As she spoke, the men took turns patting her arm in sympathy. “We’ve been looking into her death in Toronto. We think the man who killed her might be coming back this way. Have you heard of anything strange happening here while I was away? We might be looking for animal-related kills or attacks in particular.”
“You mean you haven’t heard then, lass?” Liam turned up his slight Irish accent, the way he always did when he meant for something to sound extremely serious. It had the opposite effect.
“Heard what, Li?” Noire asked.
“Jedd Tisdale was killed early this morning before dawn.” Liam crossed himself and the other men murmured to themselves. “Official word is a bear did it, but they found him naked, clothes back near his house.”
Noire’s heart sank. Jedd Tisdale had been another park warden. She’d known Jedd well—so well that she knew he was a shifter himself, a moose. After they got the location of the potential crime scene and determined that the men had no more information on the death, Noire and Cam went back to the car. They turned northwest, taking a detour from their original plan. The location of Jedd’s death would be a fresh trail. Perhaps they could track Page to his den and surprise him there.
As they headed into backcountry, they stopped at a rental shop and tied a canoe to the car—Noire figured they had no idea where they might end up after the crime scene.
“You say he was a big guy, strong?” Cam asked as he drove.
“Yeah. Jedd was at least as big as you. Tough as nails. The only reason he’d be caught without his gun is if he was out shifting last night.”
“So Page is getting more confident then. He’s moved on from those he identifies as helpless, easily influenced young women. He’s not just after prey animals anymore—a moose can really fight back. Are you sure you don’t want to sit this one out, Noire? Let me handle it?”
“If he’s stronger, that’s the dumbest thing we could do. One wolf against one giant bear—or worse, whatever else he has killed? You need me.”
Cam snorted at that, but looked pleased at her concern. Noire ran a finger down his cheek and against his lips; he sucked it inside and nipped softly at it. She sighed and leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder.
“Maybe he’ll get cocky enough to mess up?” she offered.
“Maybe,” Cam said. “But I wouldn’t count on it.”
When they arrived at the clearing where Jedd had been killed, all signs of the body had been erased. Noire wondered if she would get back in time for the funeral, and if she’d get to see her friend again before he was put to rest.
Jedd’s death seemed completely surreal. She’d protected these woods for so many years and couldn’t imagine a killer stalking her friends through the trees. There were all kinds of dangers in the park for the untrained outdoorsman—wild animals, poisonous mushrooms, storms of lightning or ice, unpredictable terrain. But in general, other people weren’t one of them.
There was something different, more nightmarish, about the killer coming into her home. Coming after people she knew, where they were supposed to be safe.
Fawn had chosen to go to Toronto, and knew she wouldn’t be protected in the city. She’d considered the risk worth it. But for a killer to take her sister’s life, and also destroy the safety of Noire’s home? She felt violated in every way imaginable. They had to stop him. No matter what.
They walked the clearing in silence. Noire had called in to the local police and received more information—Jedd, like Fawn and Linn, had all the skin removed from his back. While they couldn’t see any remaining traces, Cam picked up the scent of a black bear and human blood leading farther northwest. Noire pulled out a map and plotted the best course. They would camp nearby overnight, then start off by canoe in the morning. Based on the way the bear was headed, she expected his den would be slightly west of Lake Opeongo.
They set up a small, orange two-person tent, and Noire set up tinder, kindling and logs in a tepee pattern to start a fire. They had several days’ worth of freeze-dried rations for the trip.
Before she could open one of the packs of rations, Cam stopped her.
“Do you trust me?” he asked.
“Yes,” Noire said. She didn’t even have to think about it. Though she’d only known the man a scant two days, she trusted him completely. At times, she could tell what he was thinking. Right now, by the tightness in the skin around his full lips, she knew he was worried. “What is it?”
“I was just thinking—I could use a run in wolf form before we get some sleep. I’m all jittery from the city. Sometimes my wolf goes a little loopy when I let him out the first time in a new forest. I don’t want to have to deal with that if we run into the bear tomorrow.” It was the most he’d spoken in a while, so Noire knew this was important to him.
“You mean you want to change? Go ahead. I’ve seen my sister do it. It doesn’t bother me. Or if you’d prefer to do it in privacy, I’ll make a mental note not to scream if a strange wolf wanders into the campsite,” she said.
He smiled at her. “Should we have a code so you know it’s me? Don’t want you getting eaten by an actual wolf.”
“What, howl twice and growl once? Shake a paw?” Noire teased him. “Roll over and let me rub your belly?”
“You can rub me any day.”
“Don’t worry,” she said dryly. “I think I’ll recognize you. Catch us some rabbits while you’re at it? I’m not exactly looking forward to rations, but after the past few days I’m just not up for setting snares.”
“You don’t mind rabbit stew for supper?” He sounded surprised. Noire surmised that he likely wasn’t used to women who thought of bunnies as food rather than cute pets.
“I would love some rabbit stew,” she said. “I’ll get the pot started.”
“Perfect,” Cam said. He started to unbutton his shirt—that gray uniform shirt again. Noire took a break from the fire to help him with his tie. She tugged on it first, pulling his face close to hers and giving him a swift kiss on the mouth. Then she started on the bottom buttons, working her way up to meet him. As they removed his shirt together, she marveled again at the taut muscles along his chest and down his stomach. She felt lightheaded, wanting nothing more than to take one of his nipples between her teeth and tease him to distraction. She was surprised at the fierceness of her desire, and knew there was something else bothering her.
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He took both her hands in his and stood there for a moment, wearing nothing but his pants and boots. “Noire,” he said, “I’m going to be fine. I’ll be back in less than a half hour with supper, eh?”
“Okay,” she said. “I promise not to worry.”
“Bullshit.”
“Fine. I promise not to worry too much.”
“That’s better.” He placed a soft kiss on her forehead and she closed her eyes, refusing to open them until he’d left the clearing. She listened to him unbutton his pants, unlace his boots, and then heard the soft footfalls of bare feet. When she finally did raise her eyelids, his clothing was folded and left on a log by the fire.
Her body felt strange, like it wasn’t hers. Noire sat herself on the log next to his clothing, touching the fabric with her fingertips as if she could pick up the smell of him with skin alone.
She closed her eyes again and concentrated. What was it like to be him? She imagined herself taller, her shoulders broad, her chest flat, containing that strange syncopated heartbeat she thought she’d heard the first time they made love. She remembered the sound of his voice, and how his laughter trembled against her mouth as they kissed.
Her body seized. Her mind wasn’t with her body on the log in the clearing anymore, but deeper into the woods. The pungent scent of moss filled her nostrils. And then—pain. If someone had asked her to describe it afterward, she wouldn’t have been able to. There was no temporal order to the feelings that assaulted her next, just varying shades, scents and sounds of pain.
She felt her muscles and skin tear. Pain ran down her body in waves and she opened her eyes, biting back a scream. Blood seeped out of her lip where her teeth had closed too tightly. The scream escaped and it was raw, animal as a wounded wolf, but human as a terrified child. The thunder of her pain filled the woods as she screamed. Everything hurt—bones popped out of their sockets and reshaped themselves. She could see them, ghostly white under her skin, then outside of her skin, ripping her flesh to shreds, splinters of bone falling to the ground. At some point the screaming stopped, or perhaps it had never started. Each breath became a gasping struggle as her lungs changed. They filled with fluid, suffocating her. She spat up blood. It ran down her snout and as she licked it clean her tongue felt fur. She wrapped her arms around her legs, curling up into a ball, running hands across what had been her skin but was now leathery and sprouting coarse gray fur. Each place the fur grew brought more pain—a million tiny pinpricks on every piece of her skin, only the tough hide on her paws and nose escaping the needles. She took an exploratory sniff and cocked her head.
She could hear mice skittering beneath the ground. She could smell them. She raised her head and sniffed at the air, smelling pine all the way down to her bones, like she’d never smelled it before. She rose on all fours, trembling and tentative as a new foal. The damp moss was heaven against the padding on her paws, and she shook her body, stretching deeply from head to toe. Before long, she was running, running on four legs, darting between trees and leaping over rocks and logs. She could smell a rabbit’s burrow and her mind dissolved into words repeated over and over like a mantra—hungry, rabbit, hunt, hunt, food. She ran, maybe chasing the rabbit, maybe just for the thrill of running, and she felt a part of the forest like never before.
When the agony was over and she opened her eyes, she was still seated by the fire. Nothing was different. Noire’s body was her own, human, and her clothing was whole and clean—untorn.
What had she felt?
Was it Cam’s change into a wolf? She supposed it had to be. That psychic connection again that she’d felt with her sister. Only she’d never accompanied Fawn in a change like this. She’d never felt anything like this before.
Was it because she and Cam had made love? Was that what took their psychic link to a new level? Or was it just that she’d never opened her mind before, embracing that part of her heritage from her mother? While she wasn’t a shifter herself, could she have felt what Fawn felt, if she’d only tried hard enough?
And if she had, would Noire have realized how desperate her sister was to find understanding—desperate to the point of trusting an evil man who skinned her alive, alone in the middle of the night on an island hundreds of kilometers from home?
As Noire checked on the fire and stirred the water as it boiled, she felt tears run down her face. Shortly, she was sobbing full out, as she hadn’t really let herself do since she’d received the first call to come identify her sister’s body. She cried to the point of sickness, gagging over the fire, trying to vomit up her guilt and horror, to let it burn away into the night.
She heard footfalls behind her and she calmed herself momentarily, turning to see a large gray wolf. The wolf held a bloody rabbit corpse in its mouth. It walked toward her and dropped the rabbit at her feet, like a gift. She smiled her thanks.
The wolf was beautiful. She’d never seen anything like him before. He was at least twice the size of the Eastern Timber Wolves she was used to. His coat was pure gray with occasional bursts of black—the color of Cam’s eyes and hair. As the wolf drew closer she stroked his ears back, running both hands through his fur, on his head, down his body, tracing the lines of his paws. He was both soft and brittle at once. She buried her face in his coat and wept for her sister.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I just can’t stop thinking about Fawn. I could feel you changing. It was like my own body belonged to the wolf, and it to me. I had no idea. I’ve always thought of it as a curse, something that made my sister different than everyone else. It was never something I wanted. But I understand now. I do. It’s beautiful. I felt strong. I felt powerful. I felt more alive than I have in years. And I can’t believe she threw away that gift, caged her deer in the city and refused to let it live. For a moment there, I hated my sister as much as I missed her. How could she turn her back on this? How could she leave the forest?” She sobbed as she spoke, holding him close, petting his fur. After a while, her words were silent, spoken not out loud but only in her mind, and she knew he heard her still. I am going to find the creature that took her from me. I am going to find him, and I am going to kill him.
The wolf made no sound, but his breathing was relaxed and deep. She matched her breath to his as he rested his head in her lap. The rabbit and stew forgotten, the wolf and the woman curled up together by the fire and slept.
Chapter Seven
They woke in the morning ready for rabbit stew, and found that the dead rabbit was gone.
Cam had changed into human form sometime during the night and was shivering slightly, naked in the cool morning dew. Noire at least had her clothes, but she huddled closer to Cam for warmth as she looked around her.
“What the fuck happened?” Cam asked.
The campsite had been torn apart. Their tent, unused, hung in shreds from the poles. Tiny white feathers were spread everywhere from the down sleeping bag.
“I don’t know—I didn’t hear anything.” Noire reached for the knife she kept at her belt, comforted to find it was still there. She rose and scoured the ground for animal tracks, finding nothing.
“He was here,” Cam said. A shiver went through Noire’s body as she realized he was right. There were no tracks. They’d been stupid to fall asleep before making sure their food was tied high in a tree to keep it safe from bears, but the devastation of the campsite had not come from a bear. Or any other animal that walked on four legs. The only traces of footprints left behind were two humans and one wolf—Noire, Cam and Cam again.
“He was a bird,” she said quietly. “He changed into bird form, then snuck up during the night, likely in flight, and shredded everything.” Yes, talons from a large bird of prey, perhaps a hawk or owl, could have done this.
“It must have taken hours. Why didn’t we wake?”
“I don’t know. I was exhausted, but still—we should have heard something.”
“His mind is still human. Even within the bird, he knew how to keep quiet.”
Bile rose in Noire’s throat at the thought of her sister’s murderer next to them in the night as they slept, content and guileless. “This was a warning, wasn’t it? He could have killed us if he wanted.”
“Yes, I think you’re right,” Cam said. “But just in case, we should probably get out of here.”
Noire’s eyes widened. He couldn’t mean what she was thinking? “I’m not leaving.”
“I don’t mean the forest,” he calmed her. “Just the campsite. We can still track him.”
She agreed, and they packed up what remaining supplies they could find—the pots from the fire, a few protein bars, their water bladders, some clothing. The canoe, fortunately, was intact. Noire supposed even a large bird could not do damage to something that size.
As they carried the canoe to Lake Opeongo, they were both silent.
By the time they reached the lake, Noire thought she’d finally calmed down enough that her anxiety wasn’t noticeable. During camping season, the lake was generally fairly peaceful, shared between canoeists, kayakers and the water taxi that took the less adventurous out to private campsites. Today, it was completely deserted. The November wind had stilled and the surface of the lake was smooth as a mirror.
Northwest of Lake Opeongo was where Cam and Noire thought they might find the bear’s den. It was the only location in which a body had not been found in the past decade. If his body-dumping grounds were intended to throw pursuers off the trail, he had failed. However, if his killings were designed to lead them into a trap, he was going to succeed nicely. They had to keep their wits about them.
The canoe slid into the lake with a small swish. Cam entered first and Noire passed him what was left of their supplies—her own pack, filled with changes of clothing for both of them, fire-starting equipment, a remaining water bladder and a few small protein bars. After that, she passed him his service weapon and then her own long shotguns.
