The Depths 0f Winter (Shifting Seasons Book 3)

by Sammie Joyce

  Sinking my back against the door, I allowed my body to slide against the wood as my own words echoed inside my head.

  I wasn’t lying to her. All men are fearsome creatures, some worse than others. Flint Locklear is certainly one of the bad ones.

  In my mind’s eye, I could see Rene’s face as he spat out terrible obscenities, his fists meeting my face because he didn’t like his dinner. I could still taste the blood in my mouth and I choked on a sob of misery as I again considered how lucky I’d been to escape his abuse with my life.

  Lowell can’t associate with men like that, men who would use their fists to no good end. I can’t watch this happen, no matter how convinced she and Kea are that these shifters are safe.

  Blinking away the unbidden tears that had filled my eyes, I rose from my spot and ambled toward the bathroom, turning on every light in my wake as I moved. Once inside, I turned on the hot water full blast and added only a slight pinch of cold.

  I thought about the promise I’d made to stay silent, but now I was regretting that I’d made it. The community deserved to know about these beasts, the women especially. Kea had said that they lived among us and if that was the case, everyone needed to be vigilant. The argument that they’d been around for a long while had no bearing on anything. Rene had been perfectly charming before we were married.

  Was he really or did you just ignore all the warning signs? that wretched voice asked.

  The steam of the shower began to fill the tiny room and I undressed hastily, avoiding the mirror as I always did. It was properly fogged over anyway as I slipped inside the scalding water, relishing the feel of it on my skin. The heat melted away the knots of tension that had formed at the base of my neck and I relished the hard-beating pressure against me, a dizzy feeling overcoming me as I soaped and shampooed, willing myself to forget the events of the day.

  Soon, the temperature got to be too much and I turned off the faucets, reaching for a fluffy, white towel before stumbling into my bedroom. Without bothering to dress in even underwear, I threw myself on the bed, wrapping myself up in the heavy down comforter, and closed my eyes. I still had on every single light in the house but I welcomed it. The darkness was too much for me to bear, especially when I kept seeing Flint Locklear’s eyes boring into me.

  My heart skipped several beats but I didn’t part my lids. Even in my fear of him, I felt like I needed to memorize every feature that I could recall.

  Just in case you need to describe him to someone like a sketch artist, I told myself but that voice in my head began to laugh.

  Sure, it taunted me. That’s why you keep thinking about him. It wouldn’t have anything to do with the fact that he’s intensely handsome, would it?

  Shame and heat filled my face in a hot flush as I acknowledged what I was thinking. I wondered how that stupid voice always knew when I was lying to myself.

  6

  Lowell

  After what had happened, I was reluctant to return to the mountain. I knew Flint well enough by now to know that he was going to need some serious time to cool off and Kea dissuaded me from going back, even though I wanted to see Davis and explain what had happened. If Kea was displeased with me, Davis was sure to be livid when he found out what happened—even if it wasn’t my fault… well, not entirely my fault.

  You should have been more forthcoming with Mme. Doucette, I thought, replaying how things could have and should have gone differently that day. No wonder she followed you. She thinks something’s wrong with you. You shouldn’t have brushed her off. Something like this happening was just inevitable.

  “Just let me and Emmett go to him,” Kea told me when I drove her back up the dead-end road to where she’d left her Forerunner parked. “You know Flint responds well to me and Emmett. He’s probably calmed down already.”

  I wondered if she honestly believed that or if she was just trying to convince herself. We both knew that Flint would do anything to protect the shifters but just how far would he go?

  “I should warn Davis about what happened,” I mumbled but Kea shook her dark mane of hair.

  “Trust me—he already knows and he’ll be calling or texting you soon enough. In the meantime, let’s not bombard Flint with more reminders of how many outsiders know their secrets. He’ll be okay with me because I’ll bring Emmett—in full get-up.”

  I had to admit that she had a point. I’d seen my boyfriend’s dad angry before but not that angry. Or had I? Maybe it was the fact that I knew Flint wasn’t as dangerous as he made himself out to be that gave me confidence that he wouldn’t harm me. But how could I really be sure, especially after the way he’d looked that night? I was sure if I hadn’t been there that he would have done something awful to Mme. Doucette—or Margot-Celine. Whatever she wanted to be called.

  And that was another thing—why had she been acting so strangely? Even afraid, I thought she was overreacting. After all, she was an adult, a teacher. She should have been able to handle stressful situations better than that, shouldn’t she? Kea and I hadn’t lost it when we’d seen our first shifters.

  Then again, neither Davis nor Emmett had threatened to kill us.

  I chided myself for being so judgmental. I had no idea what was going on with my French teacher. No one did. She kept to herself, more than most. I heard rumors about the comings and goings of the other teachers in my school but never about Margot-Celine. She didn’t participate in any extracurricular activities like some of her coworkers and she’d always been relatively aloof. The fact that she’d reached out to me at all about my essay had been moderately surprising. I hadn’t expected her to care. I had always been under the impression that she just lived each day like the last, with a boring existence.

  But clearly she did care—enough to follow me into the darkness when she had no idea what I was doing. I wondered what she thought I was up to. Maybe I’d ask her but honestly, I had a bad feeling I knew the answer. That stint with the pot had labeled all five of us potheads for the rest of our high school careers—something Madison never let me forget.

  “Just go home, Lowell,” Kea told me, bringing me back to the car as I stopped by her vehicle. “Let Emmett and me deal with Flint and I’ll let you know what happens.”

  Admittedly, I was glad she was offering to do it. I wasn’t sure I wanted to confront Flint at all, let alone that night, even if I did want to see his son desperately. I felt like we never had enough time together, no matter how often Davis and I saw one another.

  I gave her a wary look.

  “Is Emmett going to be furious?” I asked gently, knowing how upset he’d been when he’d learned about Davis. Of course, the circumstances had been different then, but still…

  Kea didn’t meet my eyes as she reached to let herself out of the truck.

  “Don’t worry about Emmett,” she said with far more confidence than I was sure she felt. “He’ll be fine.”

  I had no choice but to let her go up the mountain without me.

  “Don’t forget to text me!” I yelled out as she slammed the door. She gave me a barely visible nod in the dark as she disappeared toward her vehicle, indicating that she’d heard me, and I sat in the truck for a long moment, reluctant to make my way back home.

  A part of me wanted to swing back to Margot-Celine’s house and double-check that she was, in fact, okay. Then I remembered that she was the one who had asked us to leave. I hadn’t felt right about going, about leaving her alone after what had clearly been a trying ordeal for her, but it was her house and I couldn’t exactly squat against her will.

  There was nothing I could do but go home and stew about what had happened, but as I drove again past Margot-Celine’s tiny house, I noted that all the lights were on.

  I had a feeling that she would never sleep in the pure darkness again.

  * * *

  I barely slept but I had half anticipated that. My dad, the Colonel, gave me that now-familiar knowing look when he shuffled out of his bedroom to the smell of fresh
coffee.

  “Don’t tell me,” I sighed. “You’re off today.”

  He shook his head.

  “No,” he replied, yawning. “But given how it’s pitch black all the time now, I could have done with an extra hour of sleep.”

  I shrugged and grinned apologetically.

  “Sorry,” I told him. “I had a hard time staying in bed.”

  “Davis troubles?” he asked and I shook my head vehemently.

  “No,” I said honestly.

  At least not yet.

  Part of the problem was that I hadn’t heard from Davis or Kea the previous night. I’d texted them both but neither had bothered to respond. I knew that in some parts of the shifter community, cell service could get glitchy, but I couldn’t shake the feeling of anxiety that was mounting in my gut. Surely Kea hadn’t stayed on the mountain all night. Could something have happened to her when she went to talk to Flint?

  I dismissed the thought hastily. Davis wouldn’t permit anything bad to befall them, I was sure.

  “You haven’t been getting enough rest,” Dad chided me and I dropped my eyes toward the table, not wanting yet another lecture. I couldn’t help but remember how the last one had ended with Margot-Celine. I shuddered at the idea of my father following me out to learn about the shifter community and my head grew hot with worry.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I could see fluffy, white flakes of snow beginning to fall from the sky out the kitchen window and I used it as a distraction.

  “Looks like we’re finally getting our Alaskan winter,” I said brightly, turning my body to take in the ethereal sight of the ivory cascade against the blue-black sky.

  “It’ll be cold,” Dad told me unnecessarily. I’d already known that.

  “It’ll be beautiful,” I countered, my breath catching, despite the slight apprehension I was feeling. There was a magic to the way the weather and atmosphere reacted in these parts and I often found myself carried away by the mysticism of it all. As we entered our third season in Alaska, I wondered what new trouble I was going to find.

  Trouble finds me, I corrected myself haughtily. I don’t find trouble.

  “I’ve got to get ready for school,” I announced after a couple of minutes of silent watching. Dad nodded from where he’d set himself at the kitchen counter, pouring a cup of black coffee.

  I disappeared back into the bungalow, finding my way into my bedroom where I dressed quickly. I’d considered taking a shower but I suspected my hair would freeze into icicles the second I stepped outside and I didn’t have time to dry it that morning. Anyway, showers were more to wake you up in the morning than they were for cleaning and I was plenty awake as it was.

  I was too eager to meet with my French teacher and see how she was making out that day.

  * * *

  I didn’t see Mme. Doucette’s Kia Soul in the parking lot when I arrived but I was indecently early. To my chagrin, I ran almost directly into Madison when I jumped out of my dad’s old truck. He had since bought himself a new one, knowing with the cold weather coming that I’d need transportation to get around and I had happily accepted the old hunk of junk.

  Maddy gave me a quick half-smirk.

  “How was your meeting with Mme. Doucette?” she asked mockingly. My brow furrowed, alarm jolting through me.

  “What?” I snapped, too quickly. What did she know about what had happened last night? A gut-wrenching thought overcame me. What if Margot-Celine hadn’t come alone?

  “Were you in trouble?” Maddy demanded, her smirk faltering as she realized she wasn’t getting the reaction she wanted. I suddenly realized what she was talking about and grimaced.

  She’s talking about our meeting after class, I thought, almost rolling my eyes.

  “It was nothing,” I muttered, brushing past her. Our relationship had been uneasy ever since that entire fiasco at the Landing had gotten us all grounded. Sometimes I felt like Madison, Hailey, Alex, and Parker blamed me for being caught even though they had no reason to know that was true.

  I hadn’t hidden Davis, he and I spending time together in town just as much as we did at the compound, but my friends (if I could call them that) had no idea that he was the bear-man we’d seen.

  “It must have been something!” Maddy insisted, hurrying to catch up with me. She never was one for picking up on subtleties. “Mme. Doucette called in sick today and you were the last person with her yesterday. What did you do to her?”

  I froze in my tracks, whipping back around to face her as snow fell along my nose. I barely noticed the cold chill in the air, despite having forsaken a hat. Heat flushed through my body.

  “What? How do you know?” I demanded, blinking rapidly. I knew Madison thought she was being clever by asking such a dumb question but guilt flooded through me all the same. Madison groaned.

  “How many times do I have to tell you about the perks of being student council president?” she moaned, apparently hurt that I’d forgotten her claim to fame. “I know everything that’s going on around here—including who’s out sick.”

  “Why did she call in sick?” I asked, hearing the dumbness of my own question as it left my mouth.

  “Uh, well, probably because she doesn’t want to deal with you again,” Maddy joked but I couldn’t help but hear the undertone of truth in her voice. I frowned and spun back around, my running shoes slipping against the wet pavement. It really was time to wear boots now but I wanted to absorb the remnants of fall while I could.

  My mind was racing at the new information.

  Did Flint get to her?

  It was my very first thought, that after we’d left, Davis’ father had ambled down the mountain to finish what he’d threatened. Guilt and terror shot through me at the idea but I had to stop my mind from racing overtime.

  Abruptly I stopped walking again and spun back toward Madison, who remained a few steps behind.

  “Did she call in?”

  Madison’s eyes shadowed with annoyance.

  “Didn’t I just say she did?” she demanded in exasperation. “What is going on with you, Lowell? Do you have wax in your ears or something?”

  I didn’t snap back a reply as I normally might have, but when I entered the school, I was breathing slightly easier as logic prevailed in my thought process.

  If she’d called in, she was still alive. Flint hadn’t gotten to her.

  Unless he kidnapped her and forced her to call, a tiny, irrational voice squeaked at me. I grunted aloud, making my way toward my locker as I dismissed the new, stupid thought. Flint wouldn’t kidnap her. How would that benefit him? He might kill her, but kidnap her…?

  Unless he’s trying to figure out what to do with her…

  A huge part of me wanted to fly back to my truck and race up to her house, but I didn’t. I had no reason to suspect that anything was really wrong. Surely, if Flint had gone after her, someone would have told me something. Davis would have texted a warning, or Kea. Hell, even Emmett would be obligated to mention that. The silence was unnerving but also good.

  No news is good news, I reminded myself. Anyway, I couldn’t afford to skip any more school. I’d exhausted Mr. Wilks’ patience long ago and I knew the principal was looking for any reason to suspend me after the pot-smoking. Margot-Celine hadn’t been lying when she said I was suffering in my other classes. I needed to focus more on my schoolwork and less on what was happening up the mountain, even if it was almost impossible. I would go to my teacher’s house, just not right now. I could make it through the school day and then I’d head right over, just to make sure she was okay.

  As I paused at my locker, I pulled my cell out of my knapsack and looked hopefully at the screen. I had no new messages or notifications.

  Dammit. Someone text me something! I pleaded silently, but of course that did no good. With a sinking heart, I threw my bag inside and sighed loudly.

  It was going to be a very long day.

  7

  Margot-Celine

 
The decision to call into school had been last-minute and hasty, but when I pried my eyelids apart the next morning, the lights of my bedroom shining on my face, my body felt sore and bruised. As I sat up, I felt like I’d been through a war or like I was fighting off the flu, but I knew neither was true.

  I hadn’t been able to fall asleep, Flint Locklear’s eyes burning into my psyche like his image had been welded in there. Between the brightness of the house and my restless mind, slumber was the last thing coming for me. At some point, probably very close to dawn, I finally fell asleep, but even that had been fitful. I had tossed and turned, pulling my cotton sheets clean off the bed in my unrest.

  The aching in my body was a combination of the panic attack from the night before and the exhaustion circulating through me. I knew I was in no position to deal with anyone that day, least of all Lowell Carey. I still had so much I wanted to ask her but I didn’t have the energy to do it. My impulse to hide under the blankets overwhelmed everything else.

  Pascal barked and whined at me, realizing that my eyes were finally opened, and I shuffled off the bed guiltily when I remembered I hadn’t let him out the previous night.

  “Mon Dieu, mon cheri,” I cried, rushing to let him out. “Je m’excuse!”

  The towel I’d slept in fell away, rendering me naked, and I gasped in shock. I’d completely forgotten that I’d crawled from the shower to the bed without bothering with clothes. I didn’t need to look in the mirror to know that my auburn waves were likely a mass of frizzy, tangled curls since I hadn’t brushed them after washing my tresses.

  Pascal barked again and I rushed to dress in a pair of sweatpants and hoodie, hurrying to set him free to roam and do his business.

  Yeah, I wasn’t going anywhere that day, not when I was such a hot mess. I had a feeling that even another shower and two coffees wouldn’t fix me, but I didn’t even attempt it. I was done. I needed a day.