Winter Omens Page 3

  “It’s okay. Come get it.”

  He checks for permission one more time, and for some reason I nod as though he knows what that means. My breath catches in my throat as he stands and creeps toward me. His head is low and he swishes his tail back and forth, looking for all the world as though he expects me to hit him.

  The wolf lays in front of the rabbit, sniffs it from head to toe, and then picks it up in strong jaws. From inches away—the closest we’ve ever been—the movement provides a terrifying glimpse of his teeth and it backs me up a little. Without so much as a thank-you, he turns and trots back outside. The sound of crunching bones jerks me into a wince. At least he went outside first.

  Fed and sleepy, I settle by the fire and warm my fingers and toes. The wolf returns within minutes, having made a neat meal of his prey. I don’t see a speck on him, at least not from here. He doesn’t sit, as has become his custom, but stands and stares. “What do you want? I don’t have any more food.”

  He makes that playful, responsive noise again, regarding me with expectant eyes. The words slip out before I know they’re going to. “What, you think you deserve a spot by the fire now?”

  I hold my breath, wondering if he really can understand and whether or not I want him at my fire. I’m too tired, too full, and too pleased with myself to take back the question. He puts one huge white paw inside the door, nails clicking on the wood floor. Summoning bravado, remembering Lucas and his pet fish and the envy I felt over his love for the animal, I nod encouragingly and pat the ground. “Come on. It’s okay.”

  He pads to the opposite side of the fire, stopping a couple feet back, and drops to the floor. His huge head rests on his paws and his eyes slip closed with a contented sigh. His relaxed posture makes me smile. It looks as though he’s made himself at home.

  CHAPTER 4.

  It stops snowing over the next week, and pale sunshine melts much of the accumulation on the ground. Patches of brown grass emerge in the clearing. The wolf, who I’ve taken to just calling Wolf, is my daily companion. He brings fresh meals, which we share, every couple of days. So far I’ve skinned a couple of squirrels and another rabbit. He brought me a raccoon last night but it’s still lying just outside the door, intact. It’s big. It probably has fleas. I’m not sure I want to skin it, even though it’s fat enough to feed us both for several days. Every couple of hours Wolf wanders over to the carcass, whines at me, and gives me a look that says, I went and got this; aren’t you going to cook it?

  I shrug at him and he gives up. I’ll probably do it. Maybe.

  The Clarks’ water bottles have proven useful. I fill them up with snow or water from the creek and keep them in the house. I taught Wolf to drink out of one yesterday. He seems delighted with his new trick of lapping the flowing stream as I pour it in front of his nose.

  A frown pulls at my cheeks when Lucas’s face flashes through my mind as it does multiple times a day. I can’t sit here on my hands. I’ve got to find him, and the other two. Cadi said there are four of us, four half-Other and half-human kids. Four of us with the power to control the elements. Four Dissidents, as Ko called us. Still, the little cabin, and Wolf, are safe havens I’m reluctant to leave. Especially since I don’t know where to go or what to do.

  It’s winter, and since we never travel to our home seasons, Lucas won’t be easy to locate. To find him, I’ll have to travel to a different season, and to do that, I’m going to need help. Easier said than done. With Cadi captured by Chief last autumn, I don’t know where she stands. She might not even be alive, and since the Others know she and Ko were helping to hide us all these years, I’d say there’s a good chance I’m on my own.

  Lucas and I traveled without their help once though. If I could find another kid like me—the one who belongs in Autumn or Spring—then maybe I could get back to Lucas. I don’t know how to go about finding them, but the first step is probably to leave the loneliness of the Wilds.

  Late in the afternoon I scrounge up the nerve to skin the raccoon. The fleas have abandoned its dead skin, but other infestations may have set in, especially since the weather has improved a bit. Although it’s not warm, the wind no longer bites my skin. I wash the silver-and-black striped fur in the creek before hauling the rigid body inside, every moment recalling the baby raccoon Lucas tried to help in the woods before it attacked him when we escaped Danbury. It feels so long ago now, though it’s only been a few weeks.

  Its body is heavy. Wolf prances around, apparently excited that I’m accepting his latest gift after all. Once inside my little hideaway, I drop it in my bloody corner and strip off my clothes. It’s a strangely freeing feeling, being naked.

  I wonder if I’m becoming some sort of wild woman.

  Probably.

  I started skinning Wolf’s gifts naked to avoid ruining any more clothes, and the wracking shivers encourage me to do it quickly. This raccoon will be messier than the squirrels, no doubt about that. I get halfway through, stopping every couple of minutes to gag and cart pieces outside, before a low growl rumbles from Wolf’s throat. I’ve never heard the sound before, not from him, and fear shoots through me.

  But Wolf isn’t staring at me, ready to rip out my throat. He’s concentrating on the opening to the outside. The fur along his back stands up in spiky tufts as he repositions himself between the world and me. He growls again, and then a face appears in the doorway.

  My heart stops, then drops like a rock into my belly. My legs freeze, unresponsive.

  An easy grin lights the stranger’s face, wiped away immediately at the sight of Wolf. His sky blue eyes, replicas of Lucas’s and mine, register at the same moment I remember I’m naked. Perhaps I should be more frightened of the stranger, but the power of my embarrassment overshadows everything else. In fact, I kind of want to die.

  I snatch up my clothes and shriek at the intruder, “Turn around, for Pete’s sake!”

  “I would, honest, but I’m afraid your dog will take a bite out of my backside.”

  His fear may not be unfounded. Wolf stands rigid, unwilling to take his eyes off the boy, who returns the animal’s gaze. I take advantage of his distraction and toss my jeans and sweater on as fast as possible. Dressed, I make my way to Wolf’s side and twist my fingers in the fur at the back of his neck. My face flames. In fact, all of me is red-hot, and I let go of Wolf after the scent of burnt hair lifts to my nose. Out of the corner of my eye, the flames reach higher in the fire pit. They lower a moment later as I blow out a breath and regain control.

  Once calmed, or at least calmer, I peruse the stranger. Aside from his eyes, nothing about him reminds me of Lucas. His skin is a tanned brown and his hair is a messy, deep-chestnut mop atop his head. He grins at me in a lazy way, as though the smile has all the time in the world. My heart pounds hard, making breathing a chore, and even though I want it to be the result of the startle, it’s something more.

  The fact irritates me. “He’s not a dog; he’s a wolf,” I snap.

  Until a few days ago I’d never seen either, but that’s not the point.

  “Can I come in?”

  “No.”

  We square off in silence for a minute while options flutter near and then away. It’s obvious he’s not going to leave, and I have no desire to sit out in the cold. Wolf is inside, and even though there’s no guarantee he’ll defend me if the boy attacks, the stranger doesn’t know that. If I’m being completely honest, I don’t want him to go. I’ve been alone too long, and the fact that he’s out here in the Wilds by himself prickles curiosity along my skin.

  I’m sure he can’t be an Other until the memory of how the Prime’s son wore Barbarus skin, disguising his alien self with somewhat more familiar yellowed skin and bright tilted eyes. We ate together, chatted, walked through the park, and neither Lucas nor I suspected what he was underneath until it was too late.

  With Wolf between the boy and me, I sidle to the window and peek out, scanning the trees. Nothing moves in the white and brown landscape.
Wolf’s gaze pins the boy in place inside the doorway; he seems unconcerned that more intruders might lurk in the Wilds.

  I sigh. “Okay, fine. Come in.”

  I motion him over to the fire and plop down with a clear path to the door. He follows, easing onto the floor and propping his back against the flimsy wall. A strong breeze blows in his wake and nearly extinguishes the flickering flames. He smells spicy and sweet, a heady combination that soaks my blood with a dizzying syrup, but the wind gusts the scents away before I can define them.

  The utter quiet in the cabin grates on my nerves as we fake smile at each other across the fire. I have no idea why either of us is pretending this is normal, since we’re both in forbidden territory. People don’t walk in the Wilds. Before last autumn, I would have figured the fact that he’s alone proves he’s not human, but I’m no longer sure what’s true. I’ve been through too much in the past few weeks to beat around the bush.

  “So what are you doing out here?”

  One corner of his mouth twitches. “Let’s say I got lost.”

  I snort. “What’s your name?”

  His eyes meet mine and the smile takes its time reappearing. He’s handsome, in a rugged way, with a sharp jawline and broad shoulders. The confident, assured quality surrounding him sucks at me, pulling me toward him like a magnet. The memory of Cadi telling Lucas and I that there are more half-Other beings like us skips through my mind. The idea that he could be exactly who I’ve been wondering how I would find skips ripples of excitement through my mind, like a rock skimmed across water.

  “Pax.”

  “Althea.”

  A couple of beats go by before I realize we’re staring at each other. An odd shyness comes over me, like I’m worried about embarrassing myself. Well, embarrassing myself further, given that he’s gotten an eyeful of me in all my naked glory already. Electricity zips over my arms and races down my spine at the memory.

  Pax tears his gaze from my face, nodding toward Wolf. “You know that’s not a wolf, right?”

  “How do you know?”

  He shrugs, his eyes still grinning as though he’s making fun of me. “I pay attention at Cell. It’s a dog, though there are similarities, I’ll give you that.”

  “Wolves are dogs,” I mutter under my breath.

  He barks a laugh. “Got me on that one, Allie. So what are you doing out here?”

  “Don’t call me Allie. I hate nicknames.”

  He returns my earlier snort, not seeming to notice that I didn’t answer his question. “What were you skinning over there? Care to share?”

  “You can have whatever’s left after Wolf eats.”

  Pax stands and bends over, reaching beneath his pant leg. I think he’s scratching his ankle, but when he straightens up again steel glints in his palm. I scramble backward and press against Wolf, my panic ripping another menacing snarl from his throat.

  “Shit, you’re jumpy. I’m just gonna take that carcass outside and finish dressing it for you. Earn my chunk.”

  He drags the raccoon’s body outside while I calm down, wondering how he knows about fixing dead animals into food. Wolf leaves my side and pads to the doorway, watching Pax with suspicion in his posture. I build the fire up a bit while Pax isn’t inside to watch, then clean up my pile of cans. It’s not that I care if he thinks my housekeeping skills are lagging, it’s more that sitting around with nothing to do makes me anxious. And this boy does make me nervous.

  Because as always, even though I hate it, being alone is safer.

  It’s not long before Pax hollers from outside. “Call off your dog, Allie. I mean, providing you actually want to cook this raccoon.”

  For the life of me I can’t figure out why my blood sizzles at the sound of his voice instead of cooling in irritation. I must be lonelier than I thought. “Only if you promise not to call me Allie again.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  It sounds like a lie, but since my other option is letting him make off with my dinner, I ignore it. “Wolf, come here.”

  He turns his head and searches my face. I pat my leg and he comes, but only after glowering at Pax for another several seconds. Our guest strides through the door, raccoon parts neatly chopped up and cradled in his jacket. He also gathered several strong sticks and whittled off the ends, making far stronger and more effective roasting instruments than mine. With his sleeves pushed up, the muscles in his arms ripple as he carries the load, and Pax tosses a playful wink my direction when he catches me staring again, flushing my cheeks with heat. I glare back in an attempt to cover up my stupid body’s reaction to his presence.

  Pax stops beside the fire and sets the raw meat on the ground. Without a word he plants his feet, catches my gaze, and raises his arms to shoulder level, palms facing the walls.

  In the next instant a gale blows through the cabin.

  Wolf flattens himself against my side, whipping his head around in agitation. My spare clothes and the discarded cans whirl in a mad circle as I hit the ground in order to avoid a knock on the head. Wind howls, sending my ponytail and loose strands of hair whipping into my face and mouth. I notice, in an odd moment of clarity, that the wind beating against me isn’t cold like the air outside. It’s cool and bright, with a hint of sunshine.

  Just as abruptly as it began, the dizzying storm ends. Cans clatter back to the floor and an extra T-shirt falls onto Wolf’s back. He turns in frantic circles in an attempt to catch it in his teeth. The fire is gone, extinguished. Sticks and embers scatter among my meager possessions, clothes dotting the cabin floor like haphazard rugs.

  The room no longer smells crisp and cold, with a hint of pine needles and snow. It’s doused in the scents of apples and cinnamon, with the slightest hint of burning leaves. It’s the same spicy, sweet smell that wafted off of Pax earlier when he walked past me.

  Pax is the picture of composure, never moving from the spot where he stood before the incident. He gives me a small smile. “Now, why don’t you show me what you can do?”

  CHAPTER 5.

  It seems impossible that the two of us would find each other without even trying.

  Then again, Lucas and I fell together in a similar manner. Before last autumn, I had never met anyone else like me, and even though my original note from Ko promised there were more, most days I had trouble believing it. Then all of a sudden, Lucas was there.

  Now he’s gone, and Pax is here instead.

  We haven’t said a whole lot since his little demonstration, but I did tease the fire back to life so our dinner could cook, proving I am who he thinks I am—another Dissident.

  Juices slip off the fatty meat like tears, splattering on the rocks ringing the fire pit with tantalizing sizzles. Wolf’s tongue works without ceasing, wetting his lips in anticipation of the meal to come.

  As promised, I give my wolf his portion before letting Pax tug some meat free. It doesn’t seem to bother him, being made to eat after an animal, and his calm demeanor and lazy smile get under my skin. He tears chunks of meat way from bone with his teeth, chewing and staring into my fire with a distant look in his eyes.

  “So, how did you get here?” I venture.

  Pax slides his gaze from the flames to me. “I walked.”

  “Walked?”

  “Yeah, you know, like with my feet.”

  I roll my eyes, perfectly aware that the reaction is what he wants. Pax can’t fool me with his smart-aleck comments and cheerful banter. As an expert in building walls to keep people at arm’s length, I recognize the work he’s putting in to do the same. “But where have you been until now?”

  “I landed in winter about, I don’t know, three weeks ago? I’ve been wanting to escape Des Moines the whole time, but the storm…” He shrugs. “I finally got away a day ago and walked west. This little place looked pretty good until I stuck my head in the door and realized it was occupied.” A different grin, a wicked one, spreads his lips this time. “Then it looked even better.”

  My head swims at th
e reference to my earlier display of nudity. Despite my understanding of the wall Pax is keeping between us, my anger boils because he’s using my embarrassment to do it. I bite back a retort, unwilling to play into his hands. “How did you know who I was?”

  “Well, you’re out here all alone, in the Wilds. You have a dog for a pet. What about that seems human to you?”

  Tears fill my eyes for no discernible reason. The not being totally human, the being part Other…it still sneaks up on me.

  Even though I look away, he sees, and for the first time, chagrin pinches his handsome face. “Plus the way you smell. Also your eyes. Our eyes.”

  The Elements’ eyes. They’re the only Others with blue pinpoints, with eyes that are not all-engulfing black holes.

  Getting upset wastes energy. It’s time to start accepting the way things are, starting with the fact that Pax is here with me and not Lucas. It’s better than nothing. Perhaps together we can formulate some sort of workable plan. If I can get him on my side, we could find Lucas. “Where were you before this?”

  “Summer. Portland. It was my first one there. Then Atlanta for a few days.”

  The tidbit sparks recognition. It had been Lucas’s first autumn in Connecticut, too, and it had happened because we were supposed to meet; Ko and Cadi orchestrated it that way. Maybe Pax and the elusive fourth were together, too.

  Without making it seem intentional or awkward, he finishes eating and shifts closer to me. We can see each other better without the flames flickering between us, but his advance makes Wolf’s muscles tighten against my back. I pat his head and he goes back to eating, albeit with one eye on our guest.

  Pax and I are the same. Dissidents. There’s no reason to keep anything from him, yet it feels a little like a betrayal to share the experiences Lucas and I had while he’s not here. When he might be alone and scared.