Blizzard (Black Ice Trilogy Book 2) Read online

  Teasing was a normal part of the banter between the two men, and Cheyne was generally a willing participant, but he had found himself in a most agitated state. Light from the fire cast Cheyne’s shadow against the wall, creating an even more intimidating silhouette of the just over six feet muscular build that danced with anticipation. His shaven head played as a mirror that captured the orange flames, and his reddish-brown beard burned with a matching flare of color.

  Gaius regarded Cheyne’s rigid posture. “All right, so what is it, then?”

  “I’m not sure. I just know it is most definitely not howlers, my friend.” He shut the shutter against the encroaching snowy wind and dropped the bar into place. The other shutters, all locked in similar fashion, held firm against the pressure.

  The guard tower they occupied was solid in structure, having weathered over two hundred years of storms and blistering summer days, and was meticulously cared for by the people of that mountain. The heavy wooden shutters, nearly a foot thick to align with the stone structure, were replacements installed just a year before, same as the entry door. Gaius had been the proud artisan to build the new fortifications, and it still smelled of the forest after a spring rain.

  “Well…” Gaius gave a thoughtful look before taking a quick drink from his mug. “If it ain’t howlers and can’t be a bear this time of year, maybe it’s them evil fairies we been hearin’ about.”

  Cheyne returned a resentful look, his hand reaching for his battle axe.

  “Now don’t be givin’ me that look.” Gaius wagged a finger in Cheyne’s direction. “This world is full o’ things you know nothin’ about.”

  Cheyne made no indication of relinquishing his scornful expression.

  Gaius stood from the table, taking one more swig before slamming the mug down on the table, emptied. “How about I go out and take a look, then, eh?”

  Cheyne’s face only grew more twisted.

  “Come off it! You may have learned them fancy words, my friend, you may have outgrown me by a hair’s height, but you’ll never have my bravery.” Gaius picked up his axe, a half-moon blade on one side, four-inch pike on the other, and topped with a razor spike at the end and smiled fully, revealing missing teeth on the bottom right and top left. His hazel eyes seemed to glow with the fire’s approval.

  “Have no fear, Gaius, I have not outdone you in all ways. You have outgrown me in the waist and will always be ahead of me by the eight years between us.”

  Gaius puffed his chest, and the two shared knowing grins.

  “Yet for all your mockery, Gaius, we should wait inside. The storm will be here any moment, and if it is howlers, even you will have trouble fighting them off.” Cheyne’s blue eyes were no less alive than Gaius’, but his were shouting out warnings, fear, guided by an intuition Gaius was incapable of understanding.

  “I’ll be back before you can finish your pint, just watch, my yellow-bellied friend! Oh, what a story to share with your beloved Alice.” Gaius winked as he opened the door, letting in a sharp blast of the encroaching storm’s bite. “Besides, I believe the room has become too full of hot air!”

  Cheyne bit back with a smirk. “Just remember your sister will be carrying my son soon enough.”

  With a grunt and dismissive hand, Gaius shut the door behind him, leaving Cheyne alone in the watch tower. Only the wind, screeching more loudly as it closed in, kept him company.

  Time passed as Cheyne warily continued to pace around the cozy space. More than the wind had begun assaulting the stone tower. Howlers could be heard crooning into the storm, the cacophony of their pack in unison carried with the wind and snow, growing ever closer. Yet the sound that had so alarmed the deeply entrenched instinct, the one Cheyne knew to listen to when it called, had started itching just beneath the surface of his skin, prickling his arms and neck. The sound had been somewhat hidden by the wind, but Cheyne had always held the keenest of senses, his hearing being his salvation a number of times in his youth. The most gripping fear was incited within his heart, a cry that came in various waves from different sources that was both empty and heart wrenching. He immediately thought of his childhood, when he had come upon a dying wolf. The suffering had been extended, his horror and revulsion expounded as he found maggots had already begun to infest its legs, torn and exposed to the bone, and along its neck and back. The great predator had lost to another and was left to die, quite aware of its circumstances. Its cry had been the same as what he had begun hearing just the hour prior, encroaching upon an hour and a half.

  “One pint, ten minutes.” Cheyne stopped his pacing before the fireplace, his voice low. “More like three pints and half an hour, Gaius.” Picking up his axe, he turned to head out the door, prepared to face whatever waited beyond to find his truest friend.

  Cheyne was only two paces from the table when the door burst open and a man’s voice preceded. “…just couldn’t listen, could you? Now look!”

  Cheyne paused, taking in the group that clambered in, alarmed to see Gaius covered in wounds across his midsection, arms, and legs. It appeared no part of his friend had been left unscathed. A man with long dark hair cascading below a snow covered, wide brimmed hat and matching long cloak was dragging Gaius in as he entered, with the help of another man of equal height. The first man’s gloved hands were gripping Gaius’ draped arm to one side over his shoulders and working on supporting the rest of the hulking man under his other arm as best he could with the help of another man with warm skin, black hair, and green eyes who followed the first man’s lead, carrying the other half of Gaius’ weight. A woman’s voice increased in volume as the wind whipped in the snow and cold.

  Introductions

  “Well if any of you ever told me anything we would not be in this predicament, now would we?” Thedryk and Helsing had been carrying our newest companion at a rapid pace, though I found it odd they should be so breathless from carrying just the one man between the two of them. As we entered, I followed their lead; the other four men waited just beyond the door, refusing to enter. I took only a brief scan of the room to take in the man already occupying the small space; as the only woman in the group, I felt outnumbered in a way I hadn’t previously. Bright blue eyes stared intently at me, then at the man carried between Helsing and Thedryk, uncertain of the scene playing out before him. His body tensed with his battle axe in hand.

  I felt Thedryk gently guiding me backwards with the one hand he dared free, the two men sizing the other up in the hesitation. I wanted to cut Thedryk’s hand off, take away his ability to ever reach out to me again. But I refrained; I knew I would need his help from my visions. Selfish, yes, but I was quickly learning just how selfish Thedryk and Eliza had been. The room fell silent, other than Helsing’s continued tirade which he refused to quit even after the other man began to lift his weapon.

  “Whatever you and your mother and your lover all discuss and disclose is your issue to deal with. Don’t come dragging them along to me and this hunt. I have no time for such petty quarrels if you wish me to find your niece, Lady Neva.” Helsing, ever so polite and proper, was cutting with his words.

  Indignation struck me; tremors shook my frame which he did not notice. Purposefully, I understood. Thedryk had gripped my arm, pulling me back from the assault I was prepared to unleash, but I thought the better of it at the moment. I will make them pay for these transgressions later.

  Helsing had dropped all attention to the man he had been dragging. The man’s breathing was becoming more ragged than before, and blood was beginning to pour out once more. The bandaging Helsing had provided had only slowed the bleeding; I gathered the bandage and the cold had worked together to slow its progress, but the trip and warmth had most likely opened the wounds again, or further.

  “Do you know this man?” Helsing’s eyes had steeled over, teeth gritted while repeating himself more deliberately, before the intended recipient responded with only a nod. “Good, clear off the table and…” Helsing looked around the room, taking
note of all those present. “Lady Neva, tell the others to come in and barricade that door. You there—” Helsing motioned towards the silent stranger “—clear the table immediately and spare whatever clean blankets or cloths you can. Have you any water that can be boiled?”

  “Yes, what happened?” The stranger in our midst spoke cautiously as he followed the given instructions.

  Helsing heaved a heavy sigh. “Your friend met some—” his eyes darted to mine and Thedryk’s a moment “—individuals we have been tracking. A terribly dangerous lot, I fear.”

  “Must be, there is little Gaius can’t handle.”

  “Gaius, is it? And your name? Simon, Thedryk, help us get him laid down. Neva, would you boil the water please?”

  “Cheyne,” the man responded as he helped drag his large friend across the table. The wood creaked and cracked beneath the unexpected weight. “Here.” Cheyne had backed away immediately and guided me to where all necessary items awaited. “Would those individuals you were tracking be human…or other?”

  Helsing had slung his bag off and was shuffling through the contents, pulling out a large, neatly tied, leather wrapped pouch. As Helsing revealed its contents, metal items, he noticed the tone carrying the questions. “Quite honestly, a bit of this and that. What they were was human, what they are now is some abomination.”

  “Did you kill them?”

  Helsing slowed his advance at filling a syringe, tossing a quick glance to Cheyne. “Just a few. The others carried off what they could of the ones we killed and have no doubt moved on to—” tap-tap-tap, Helsing checked the syringe, pushing out any air “—greener pastures.”

  Cheyne’s face turned ashen as he processed the statement. “The village…”

  I pulled the pot from the fire, the water within boiling. Cheyne closed his previously agape mouth and headed straight towards the door.

  “It will do you no good to go out there in that storm.” Thedryk did not move from his position standing just to the right of the tower door.

  “Those are my people, my family, my future wife. I cannot leave them without warning. They will not see the signal through this storm. My only other option is to head there directly with no delays.” Though incredulous in tone he stopped his advance and instead took a moment to look frantically about the tower.

  Helsing no longer paid Cheyne any attention but continued to deliver quick instructions to me and the others to save Gaius. The amount of blood that seeped from individual wounds was not so great, but as a whole they were quickly draining the man of what little life he had left. My own hunger, which had begun tingling across my senses, kept itself in check, to my surprise. The smell that emanated from the large man was somewhat repugnant, I realized. Quite the opposite of what blood normally incited within my hungry heart. I felt the strongest desire to back away, step out of the tower into the storm to escape the odor. His younger counterpart, who had directed his attention finally upon the fire and set to removing a burning log, held the same type of odor. As he sweated in his nervous motions, the odiferous smell intensified.

  “Something wrong, Neva?” Helsing had set to work swiftly in trying to close up the many wounds that covered Gaius. Helsing’s focus never left the wounded figure before him, but I had physically backed away almost two feet and covered my nose with my cloaked arm. I breathed in deeply, trying to escape the nauseating smell.

  “I…” My consideration of the predicament made me think the better of my inconsiderate actions, but it still did not stop my mouth from forming and distributing the complaint. “The smell, I can’t…”

  Cheyne paused briefly upon his exiting of the tower, his hand firmly gripping the handles of the door. With a slight turn of his head, his eyes fixed upon me for only a moment before he opened the door and thrust himself out into the blizzard beyond.

  “Shapeshifters,” Helsing mused from his work. “Who would have imagined we would meet such creatures in our adventures.” There was a joyful chime to his voice as he continued. “For you vampires, it no doubt makes you terribly ill to smell the impending change, but I am so looking forward to what surprise our new friend Cheyne has in store for us.” With all the smaller wounds closed up, only the large gash across Gaius’ midsection remained. While it did not pour out copious amounts of blood, it was deep and steadily streaming down either side of his waist with the noxious odor following.

  Cheyne returned a moment later, without the burning log I assumed he had disposed of.

  “How soon before you can get word to your village?” Helsing was swift in his craft, closing the largest of wounds in a steadfast manner with needle and thread, while continuing his inquiries.

  “Not soon enough.” Cheyne was by Gaius’ side in two large strides, grabbing the man’s hand.

  Gaius was still, pale, sweating in the firelight. He would die soon, I was sure. I felt as if the world had been tilted, and death was no new experience for me, but the current situation gave way to an excess of sensory stimulation.

  “G-go…” Gaius spoke, astounding myself and all others but Helsing.

  “I’m not sorry to say this. I was right. I told you so, to not go out there,” Cheyne said.

  Gaius’ chest lifted with a small breath attempting to huff away Cheyne. “Al-Alice, save her.”

  “I promise…” Cheyne’s face, taut with distress during the exchange, shifted immediately as Gaius drifted back out of consciousness. Resolution, determination, and revenge replaced the pained expression. “I’m sorry, but I must go. Please take care of him until I return.”

  “No promises that we will remain here either, but your friend here should be fine until you return.” Helsing was washing his hands in the boiled water with a soap he had produced from his own satchel.

  “What?” Cheyne stopped short of the door at Helsing’s words.

  “We have our own road ahead to travel, no doubt the same direction you are heading, and babysitting your friend is not my priority. Now, he is cleaned, sutured, and with the medication I have given him he will sleep for some time.” Helsing proceeded to pack his belongings, taking care to clean utensils he had utilized. “Don’t you have somewhere to lead us?”

  “Good Lord, Helsing,” Thedryk muttered as he stood pinching the bridge of his nose, eyes closed.

  Cheyne looked from Helsing to Gaius before closing the gap between his hand and the door. He didn’t utter a sound as he made his hasty exit and Helsing eagerly followed.

  “Come now, none of you should miss this miraculous mystery.” He was out the door into the black and white flurry beyond. As everyone else followed suit, with Thedryk at the end, I stood a moment looking to the man while still covering my nose at the stench.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered to the corpse of a man as I jumped at the muffled sound of a scream turning to something inhuman and gasps. After stepping out into the night’s blizzard, even my vampire eyes had to work on adjusting to the poor visibility. My eyes did not miss, however, the bloodied remnants that were scattered into the freshly fallen snow. Fingernails, hair, and blood trailed out down the stairwell of the tower. Smears marked the tower’s outside stone walls, and the sound of cracking bones echoed from beneath where I stood. The others had already made their way to the base of the tower, and Helsing’s soft voice carried in the flurried gusts of wind, unintelligible.

  Reaching the bottom, I found what was left of the large man. The foul smell had become putrid in nature, and there lay not far from where the men stood a stain of blood, as though something had been dragged away. The heavy falling snow moved before us, causing me to gasp as the snow took the form of a large cat.

  “Exquisite.” Helsing’s eyes were fixed upon the majestic creature. “It’s absolutely marvelous, truly. A snow leopard, not at all what I expected, though.”

  The snow leopard, monstrous in size, gave a cry into the storm signaling its disapproval. While I wished to appreciate the animal in its glory, I could not look away from its eyes. Its human eye
s. Much larger than any panther I had ever seen, the snow leopard attempted to lick around its maw, the lips peeling back to show the stark white teeth waiting behind the fur.

  “A shapeshifter.” I repeated Helsing’s earlier statement.

  “Cheyne, lead the way, sir.” Helsing gave a slight bow, and Cheyne leapt forward, leading us to his village, deep in the hollow of the mountains and forest.

  I HAD BEEN traveling with Helsing and his group for over a month, but I still knew nothing about him and his compatriots. Nothing that I deemed entirely vital, to be specific. Helsing, a human, kept pace. Always. He never fell behind the snow leopard figure of Cheyne, and more than once on our journey I had marveled at his stamina. Was it tenacity that drove him, his eccentric nature, or the one possibility my instinct whispered to me? A trek through a blizzard as the one we braved would be impossible for any human. In the best of weather conditions, the distance from the tower to the village was a simple twenty minutes on horseback and an hour and a half on foot when walking. Even with those realities, we managed that distance in thirty minutes. No, deep down I had always known Helsing to be far more than just a man, but he never revealed his secrets, and I never inquired though my curiosity had always been piqued. I began reconsidering my distant considerations and started to recognize the little I knew could be dangerous, that some way down the line I would pay for my willful ignorance. Even the smallest amounts of time could alter a person’s perceptions with adequate retrospect.

  As Cheyne knew the quickest way to his village, I hoped we might find it unscathed, still intact to provide that warm and inviting presence small villages often project. Dread, that unwelcomed intuition, struck me as Cheyne suddenly jerked in his movements as given a shock and lunged forward. He outpaced us all, but we were close enough to see a dim light burning through the snow. It was only moments before screams and guttural sounds cut through the storm’s cry. No words were spoken, just the pressure to arrive and help. Our only lead to my niece lay just before us, and I knew Cheyne could most likely kill every single opportunity to find her.