Winter Wolf (24 page)

“When she doesn’t want to be found, no one finds her. She’s not a Fenerec to be crossed. She’s cunning, and she has great control, too. She doesn’t even need to have a witch.”

I tilted my head so I could stare at Amber. “What do you mean by that?”

“You really don’t know much about Fenerec, do you? Or the Inquisition, for that matter.” Amber frowned and deep lines crossed her brow.

“Let’s just say I got my information from a temperamental source,” I replied in a wry tone.

~I resemble that remark.~

While Amber wasn’t out to kill me—yet, at least—I wasn’t going to tell her about the book’s talkative nature, so I bit back the urge to reply to it. The witch didn’t speak for a long moment, tapping her fingers on her steering wheel. I let her be. When she wanted to explain, she would.

Nagging her probably wouldn’t work, and straining our relationship didn’t seem wise, not when we might have to fight each other someday. If the Inquisition discovered me or if Amber slipped, it would come to that.

But could I pull it off? Could I actually kill someone?

I hoped not.

Amber broke the silence with a sigh. “Maybe I should ask you what you know about the Fenerec, witches, and Inquisition.”

Admitting ignorance was a difficult thing, I decided, and took several deep breaths to compose myself. “Assume I know nothing. As I said before, my source is reliable.” I hoped the book understood I was talking about it. “While there are Fenerec in my family, they kept their secrets. I know the plague is killing them, and that it doesn’t infect regular people. Normals, you called them? As for Witches, they align with elements and use focal stones. Don’t know much more than that.” I twisted around in my seat and snatched the strap of my messenger bag, tugging it close enough for me to pull out one of my crystal balls. I ended up with the rhodonite. “I use focal stones, too. I don’t know how witches use them, though.” Settling back in my seat, I rolled the rhodonite back and forth between my hands.

The book seethed in my head, but didn’t argue with me. I smiled a little at its reluctant acknowledgment of my jab.

Amber made a thoughtful noise. “Is it true you’ve never fired a gun?”

“It’s true.”

“All right. Let me make a phone call. Stay quiet. Pretend you’re not listening, please. I’ll take you to the range.” Without waiting for my agreement, she pressed a button on her steering wheel. “Call Boss.”

I tensed, listening to the ringing coming from the speakers.

“Carolton,” a man’s voice answered.

“It’s Amber. I got a young lady I want to take to the West Nevada range with me for some practice. Can I get clearance?”

There was a brief pause, and I squirmed a little. Amber smiled at me and lifted a hand from the wheel long enough to press a finger to her lips to keep me quiet.

“Friend of yours?” Carolton asked.

“She’s a person of special interest to the Yellowknife pack, sir. I’m on hire to keep her safe.”

“How long do you want the range for?”

“Three days, if possible.”

“I’ll call you back.”

Carolton hung up, and Amber pressed another button on her steering wheel. “Carolton isn’t bad, as far as Inquisitors go. He’ll probably call me back in ten or twenty minutes with an access code to the range. They don’t like Normals interacting with Inquisitors on the range, so he’ll see if he can have the place cleared out first. All things considered, three days is the most we can spare, I think.”

“We don’t have a lot of time,” I agreed, wondering if three days spent on a gun range would be the difference between Lisa living or dying. Did we have three days to spare? “Can we really afford to take three whole days for this, Amber?”

“An afternoon at the range isn’t enough. There’s no point in teaching you if I don’t teach you enough for it to be useful. Unless you
want
to be a target?”

I didn’t. I shook my head. “What about the Fenerec?”

“You won’t be of any use to them dead, Nicole.”

I grimaced but couldn’t fault her logic. If I died, my powers wouldn’t be able to do anything to help anyone. “Tell me this, then: from my understanding, Richard and Alex aren’t beholden to the Inquisition. They’re exempt. Why?”

“They’re Canadian. They… don’t agree with our methods. They police their own, and they do a good job of it, too. They told the Inquisition they’d deal with their financial messes, but in exchange, the Canadian Fenerec packs wanted to be left alone. It works. Canadian witches bond with Canadian Fenerec, and for whatever reason, they don’t have a problem with rogues, not like we do here.”

“So the Inquisition is only in America?”

Amber shook her head. “Worldwide, with limited exceptions, Canada being one of them. Fenerec aren’t the only monsters the Inquisition safeguards Normals from.”

“You mean wizards, like me.”

“Rogue witches, too, among others. But yes, wizards are among them. Wizards are dangerous, Nicole. The Inquisition killed my grandmother for wizardry, and while it was brutal, I can’t say it was undeserved.”

Part of me wanted to ask, but I kept my mouth shut. If Amber wanted to tell me, she would. I considered our conversation, and tried to steer it to safer waters. “You mentioned witches bonding with Fenerec. Richard and Alex didn’t seem to have anyone with them? Unless you…?”

“I’m not their witch. They hire me, but they don’t need me to keep themselves under control. True-born Fenerec like Richard are rare. True-born almost always have a witch, because they are almost always at risk of losing touch with their human side. Richard has Alex.”

“But Alex isn’t a witch, is he?”

Amber shrugged. “He’s not a witch, but all Alex has to do is talk to him and Richard calms down. We’d be out of a job if all Fenerec were like them. I wish that were the case. But normally, a Fenerec will have a witch who is bonded to them. The witch can help the Fenerec become human again if they lose control. They can calm the wild, wolf side of their personalities. Witches partner with Fenerec, especially within the Inquisition. There are a lot of those who are afraid of Fenerec running wild, even if they’re on the ‘good’ side, so to speak. Though, from your perspective, there’s nothing good about the Inquisition is there?”

“It’s hard to see any good side to a group who wants people like me dead,” I admitted. “For the sake of argument, let’s say the Inquisition isn’t all bad, and I just am really, really unlucky.”

“That’s fair. The Inquisition makes mistakes. It’s ruthless, too. Normals aren’t supposed to know about us. Those who do are sworn to secrecy and watched.”

It didn’t surprise me, although it sickened me a little. I didn’t understand why the Inquisition felt its secrecy was so important. Did ignorance somehow protect humanity? Or did it just provide an easier hunting ground for the Fenerec? I couldn’t bring myself to ask, so I redirected the conversation back to witches. What witches did was safer than asking questions about those who wanted to kill people like me. “So do all witches have Fenerec partners?”

“I don’t,” Amber said, and once again, she shrugged. “I’m a fire witch, so it’s a mark against me. We’re supposed to be the best at working with the werewolves. That’s why I’m assigned to watch over young Fenerec. I was checking in on him when he died. We weren’t partners, but he knew I was around keeping an eye on him.”

I grimaced at the bitterness in her voice. “They hate when people call them werewolves.” I shivered at the strength of the memory of my father growling at me as a child, because I had made the mistake of watching a movie with werewolves.

I had suppressed the memory, but I couldn’t forget again. Soon, fragmented memories of the past might be all I had left of my family. It left me trembling. What else had I forgotten?

Why was I so determined not to remember it again? Why was I so afraid of the past? It left me nauseous thinking about it. What could be worse than the car crash?

Another shudder ripped through me, and a cold sweat beaded on my brow.

Amber’s phone rang, sparing me from thinking about it further. She motioned for me to stay quiet.

“Amber here,” she answered, once again routing the conversation through the car’s speakers.

“It’s Harold,” Carolton announced, his neutral tone revealing nothing. “You’re clear to use the range for three days. When can we expect your arrival?”

“One hour.”

“Someone will be waiting to meet you and your guest for an interview.” Without waiting for an answer, Carolton hung up.

Amber pressed a button on her steering wheel. “Well, that’s that. Let me do the talking. Remember one thing, Nicole. Tell the truth and nothing but the truth. You can evade, you can choose not to answer a question, but never, ever lie. They’ll know if you do, and if you tell one lie, they’ll look for others.”

“Understood. No lies. The last thing I need for them is to take extra notice of me,” I muttered.

“I’ll do my best to protect you. I gave my word. Look at it this way; they’ll never believe a wizard would be insane enough to go straight into the lion’s den. They think you are a Normal needing their protection and that’s exactly what you want them to believe.”

Despite my misgivings and worries, I believed her.

~~*~~

The West Nevada range hid in a valley with red rock cliffs ensuring no route of escape other than the unpaved road cutting across the desert. An armed guard waited at the fence. Amber flashed him a smile and a card, and he opened the gate to let us through.

“Show time,” she said cheerfully as she drove through. “Remember what I told you, Nicole.”

“No lies,” I replied obediently. “And no displays of wizardry, either.”

“That would be a good idea.”

The road curved several miles through the gorge. She stopped at a dead end, but didn’t turn off her car. “Now we wait.”

“For what?” I twisted around, but couldn’t find any sign of where the road went—or where the firing range was. I turned back to gawk at the cliff in front of us. It loomed some fifty feet high, and the stone was as weather worn as the rest of the desert.

Amber gestured to the cliff in front of us. I stared at it, my brows furrowing as I tried to figure out what she was pointing at. A section of the stone paled, and then like paper crumbling to ash in a fire, the stone dissolved and broke away to reveal an opening. When it was large enough for Amber to drive through, she turned her headlights on and eased her car into the tunnel. “Earth magic,” she explained a bit wistfully.

The seat belt strangled me as I turned to watch the passage close behind us. The stone reformed with the crackle of falling icicles. I settled back in my seat and gaped at Amber.

“The Inquisition has turned this entire mountain into a complex. The firing range is only one part of it, and fortunately for us, the closest. Take it from me, you don’t want to get lost in here.” Amber chuckled a little, turning her car down a passage. “This is a newer complex, so there aren’t a whole lot of folks here yet, which is good for both of us. I’ve been stationed here for about a year now. It’s close enough to the big cities to be convenient while being far enough out of the way that adventurous explorers don’t find us. Welcome to the Inquisition, Nicole.”

“Thanks, I think.” I wiped my sweaty palms on my jeans and hoped I hadn’t fallen into a trap. If I had, it was too late to run away now. “Hey, Amber?”

“What is it?”

“Do you think the Inquisition can help find a cure for the plague?”

Amber hesitated before shrugging. “Who knows? I’d be more worried about whether or not they will, not if they can. Some people aren’t forced to join the Inquisition. They join because someone they love was killed. Sometimes by a witch, sometimes by a Fenerec. Rarely by a wizard. Unless the survival of the Fenerec outweighs the benefits of them being gone, they won’t.”

“That’s horrible.” I balled my hands into fists.

Richard and Alex didn’t seem like monsters. They scared me a little, but monsters wouldn’t protect anyone. Monsters wouldn’t have helped me. Monsters certainly wouldn’t have let me hold them hostage with a gun without retaliation. Maybe my father was gruff and had little tolerance for things he didn’t like, but I didn’t remember him as a monster, either.

“Fear can turn good people into bad ones,” Amber said, her voice a whisper. “I’m not proud to be a part of the Inquisition when that happens. But sometimes, we save people too. That makes it worthwhile.”

“Fenerec aren’t monsters,” I announced, straightening in my seat. “They’re scary, but they’re not monsters.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Rapists, murderers, child abusers; those are the real monsters. They often choose to be that way, to hurt and kill people. Maybe some of the Fenerec
are
monsters, but it isn’t because they’re Fenerec. It’s because they decided to become a monster.”

Amber slowed the car, taking the time to look me over, her eyes narrowing. “It must be nice to be so idealistic.”

“If you saw someone raping someone else, what would you do?”

“Stop them, of course.” Amber sounded angry.

“Would you kill them?”