Alpha's Enemy Page 7

  At the same time, though, it gave him a new kind of power, he thought. Loving her,

  making love to her. That had lit something inside him. Of course, he had always fought for his pack. He would die for his pack, had vowed as much when he was sworn in as alpha, and he had not stopped for a single moment in the years since, meaning it.

  His need to protect Keira was softer. It made him feel quite literally warm, that kin to the electricity of touching her, like he’d been waiting for it. And he had, in a way. The idea of a mate had never meant much in the abstract. He supposed he got it now—or some of it. He wanted to discover the rest.

  Axel was biting his lip, and Chance was staring at him, probably wondering what he was thinking. “I need her to be safe,” Axel told him. “I need her to be okay. And I know you do, too.”

  The door creaked open, and both men whipped their heads around to see who it was. Agnes was wearing a long-sleeved shirt now, also black, and her hair was tied back with a rag.

  “Byron’s watching her,” she said. “It’s touch and go, but with your help, we can do this. I need both of you. I think I can save her, have her right as rain, in fact.”

  Chance and Axel glanced at one another.

  “What do we need to do?” Chance asked, gruffly.

  Agnes untied her wild hair. She pocketed the rag. “I need you to go back in time.”

  For a moment, Axel thought he had misheard her. He waited a beat, giving his brain time to catch up, parse her sentence properly. Nothing happened.

  “What?” Chance said, beating Axel to it. Agnes nodded.

  “You heard me,” she said. “I need you to go back four hundred years.” She looked at Chance. “The secret to the wellbeing of you sister—” She turned to Axel. “—and your mate lies there.”

  “How?” Axel let out, although he had felt Agnes hold him still with her will alone and seen the little apprentice witch whisper life into a fire.

  Chance looked at him. “She’s a witch.”

  “Thank you, Chance. As blunt as your father was, I see. Yes. A spell, of course.”

  Axel gestured to his arm. He was about to tell Agnes he was hurt, ask her to look at it before any time travel began, when he realized he hadn’t felt it aching and burning since he arrived. He looked at Chance.

  “Your ear,” he said, and Chance put a hand up to the side of his face, feeling his perfectly intact ear.

  “Minor injuries are no problem,” Agnes explained. “As soon as you enter our circles of protection, they heal rapidly. Especially you shifters.” She glanced sternly at both of them. “Which should show you how serious Keira’s injuries are. Many of them are internal. We can’t move quickly enough.”

  “Won’t we… mess things up? In the past?” Axel asked

  Agnes smiled. “Don’t kill anyone or sleep with anyone. Time is a loop. Well, not exactly a loop. It’s complicated, but this is how it happens, has happened, and will happen.”

  Axel nodded, sort of half understanding. Next to him Chance furrowed his brow and did the same. Agnes rummaged in her pocket. First, she pulled out the rag, seemed annoyed by it, and threw it on the sofa. Then she tried another pocket. She drew out a slim scroll, sealed with a crest and tied with red string.

  “This will protect you,” she told them, “when you’re there. Use it only in an emergency. You’ll know when.” Then the witch gestured for the two men to stand. “Ready?” she asked.

  “Wait!” Chance startled. “What are we looking for?” Axel was shocked and a little embarrassed that this question hadn’t occurred to him.

  “Right,” he said, “is it a plant, or a… a crystal? A potion?” Agnes smiled softly, as if she were talking to a child.

  “You’ll know that, too. I’ll bring you back once you have it.” Both men gingerly stood. “Put your coats and gloves on, boys. Just as cold then as now. I’m sending you to the woods.”

  They did as they were told. Axel felt odd as an alpha, being ordered around. Maybe he and Chance had more in common than he’d thought, at least at that moment. Agnes handed him the scroll. Chance looked a little annoyed.

  “His pockets zip. Yours just button,” Agnes said. And then, “Stand close together please. Two at once is a little tricky. Don’t want anything left behind.”

  The men glanced at one another and shuffled closer. Then closer still, until their arms were pressed together. Agnes had already begun muttering. She walked around them in a circle, making some intricate movements with her hands.

  Just as Axel was beginning to think it wasn’t working, that this really was just a mad

  woman living out here in her topsy-turvy fairground funhouse, he felt what seemed to be hands on his shoulders. He looked at Chance, as if they might have been his hands, and the last thing he saw before his feet were ripped from beneath him was the whites of Chance’s wide eyes as he felt the same thing.

  For a few seconds, Axel could see nothing, though he felt like he was being stretched in every direction, including directions he wasn’t sure existed. And then, suddenly, there was huge pressure and a bright light, followed by a thunk.

  He was in a pile of snow and spruce needles, on his back, the wind knocked out of him. Above him, the sky was gray. And if it was late fall, like they’d come from, it must be afternoon. Axel lay still for a good minute or two, waiting for the trees to stop spinning and for the ability to breathe to return to him. There was snow in his boots, he could feel it. Unusual side-effect of time travel, he thought vaguely. He sat up and unlaced his boots, took them off one at a time, and shook out the snow and plant matter. It was only as he was retying them that he remembered who he was and where he was, but most importantly, why he was there. His heart leapt in his chest. He jumped up, boots not even fully tied, and began to run before he almost tripped over a lace and bent to fix his boots again.

  Keira. All he could see was Keira bleeding. He wanted to vomit, and he didn’t know if it was fear or time travel sickness. But if it wasn’t Keira he needed to find, who was it?

  Chance! Again, Axel leapt to his feet, this time with his boots fully secured, and looked around him. Nothing. There were no obvious landmarks. How did time travel work? Could Chance arrive slower than him?

  “Chance!” Axel called into the forest. “Chance? Are you here?”

  18

  Chance

  Chance had snow in his gloves and up his jacket. He got to his knees, feeling as though he might vomit. He sorted the gloves and pulled them quickly back onto his hands. Then he had to put his head between his knees for a few seconds. The world was spinning. He wondered why. He unzipped his coat, shaking out the snow that had collected above the elastic that cinched it.

  He heard someone calling his name, distant, a voice that was just a little familiar.

  Keira! He remembered Keira. He remembered Axel. He remembered why they were here. He got to his feet as fast as possible.

  “Axel!” he called. “Axel!” And he retched, leaning against a tree.

  “Follow my voice!” Axel shouted. Chance tried to counter with, “Follow mine,” but he was almost sick again when he opened his mouth. “Over here!” Axel yelled. Chance lurched toward it, tree to tree. “This way!” Axel continued. Chance would put money on the idiot jumping up and down and waving his arms as he did it.

  “Coming,” Chance managed, though he had no idea whether or not it would be audible to Axel.

  Axel’s tone changed. It sounded relieved. Maybe excited, so Chance assumed he’d heard. He rested for another moment and then got as close to a run as he could. It was more of a stumble.

  “I see you!” Axel called.

  Chance fell into the snow, face first. It was in his mouth. He let Axel haul him up, though he would much rather have gotten himself up. The thing was, he wasn’t sure he would have been able to.

  “Jeez, Chance,” Axel said, his pale face right up close to Chance’s. “Are you okay?” He helped Chance make it to a tree so he could sit and lean aga
inst it.

  “Dunno,” Chance mumbled. Then he leaned to the side and threw up.

  “Oh, wow.” Axel winced. “Okay, better out than in, I guess. Do you feel any better?” Chance nodded.

  “I think so.” Then he rested his head back against the tree. “Gimme a minute?”

  Axel backed off and sat back on his haunches in the snow. Chance’s breath was still heaving somewhat from the effort of throwing up. But the world was beginning to still. The tree behind his back felt real and strong. The earth was remaining under him. In fact, his ass was cold from the snow.

  “Where are we?” he finally asked Axel, raising his head to look at him.

  “I have no idea,” Axel replied. “The trees… these spruces… there are a lot around Fairbanks. But it’s impossible to tell.” Axel took out his phone and waved it. “I’m an idiot,” he said, “so I looked at this, but there are no GPS satellites up there. Obviously. Amazing how quickly you get used to something, isn’t it?”

  “You are an idiot,” Chance agreed. He wasn’t totally sure he meant it this time. Axel nodded up at the grey sky.

  “I think the sun will be going down soon. Should we dig snow holes?” Chance looked around.

  “Sure,” he said. “I mean, no.” They had to find the cure, he recalled, and it clearly wasn’t buried in the snow. “No, we have one reason to be here.”

  Axel stood up. “You know I care about finding the cure just as much as you do, but it’s going to get dark. It’s going to get colder. It’s time travel. Surely, Agnes can bring us back at the right time, whenever we find— Well. Whatever it is we’re here for.”

  That time stuff had hurt Chance’s head, and he was certainly in no state to consider it again now. He lay his head against the tree again.

  “You’re in no state to search for anything right now, Chance,” Axel said. “Let me dig us in? Just a few hours of sleep. Until you’re settled.”

  Chance was angry again, though he was still too nauseous to really express it. Why was Axel fine when he wasn’t? What was special about Axel? What was better? Then he remembered.

  “You still have the scroll?” he asked.

  Axel put a hand in his pocket and pulled it out. “Right here.”

  “Give it to me,” Chance demanded and tried to reach out a hand for it. “It’s protecting you. I need it. I’m sick.”

  Axel pulled the scroll closer to him. He looked hard at Chance. “She gave it to me… I felt sick, too. It just passed quicker.”

  “She gave it to you because of your pockets!” Chance insisted. He hoped that was true, but he didn’t believe it. He wanted to be the one trusted with the scroll as much as he wanted to feel better. He managed to hold out a hand. Axel gave him the scroll. He closed his fingers around it, waiting for its powers to take hold.

  They both waited, looking at Chance’s hand. Nothing happened. They continued staring. Nothing happened. Then they heard branches snapping. Axel grabbed for the scroll. Chance didn’t want to let it go, and he held onto it.

  “Zip. Pockets,” Axel hissed.

  Chance was going to hand it over. He really was. He was just making a point, holding onto it for a second too long—just showing Axel he could. Axel stood, put a hand down to heave Chance up, and held him steady by the elbow. The scroll was still in Chance’s hand.

  And then the shadows in the trees came fully into view: three bears. Three big grizzlies, loping like they knew they had no need to move fast. For a moment, Chance thought of shifting himself, of fighting, but Agnes had instructed them not to kill anyone. Who knew what would happen if they did? Besides, he was leaning on Axel right now.

  The bears’ hot breath was in Chance’s face in the blink of an eye, as well as in Axel’s. They sniffed them, their big wet noses right up against them, their eyes scanning their strange clothing. The paws came down next. One cracked against Chance’s temple, ricocheting his head into Axel’s and then into the tree behind him.

  19

  Axel

  He couldn’t open his eyes, and he couldn’t move. For a little while, Axel thought he might be dead. Then he felt the ropes cutting into him, the cold wind on him. He inched open one eye, and then the other. He squinted at the light: two fires. He was facing a clearing and kind of… high up? Again, he tried to move his arms and legs. Whatever was behind him was scratching him, and the ropes…

  Axel looked down with some difficulty. He was wrapped with ropes, pushing his jacket into diamonds, almost cutting off various blood supplies. What the hell had happened? Those bears… If they were shifters, they would have smelled the shifter in him and Chance. Where was Chance? Axel craned to look from side to side, which was difficult given his restraints. There Chance was, trussed up just like him. Axel caught his eye.

  He tried to mouth, “What’s happening?” but lipreading is hard from the side. Axel tried again, this time whispering, “Have you seen anyone?”

  Chance shook his head. His hair was matted at the back where it was in contact with the bark of the spruce he was tied to. Both men were tied with their feet well off the ground.

  Axel lay his head against the tree and closed his eyes. He tried to think. All his thoughts at the moment revolved around Keira; her soft skin, the way she had breathed words into his ear; how right it had felt to be near her. How, even when she’d told him who she was, in that awful moment, he had wanted her so very badly. And then… Keira soaked in blood. His claws bloody, and Chance’s and—

  What would happen, Axel suddenly wondered, if he shifted? Surely the ropes would snap. Would they snap before the tree gave? Would he be impaled? Injured enough to shift right back? Or worse, would he have a severed spine? Who would he be any help to? Once more, he wriggled against the restraints. Axel opened his eyes and turned to Chance.

  “Hey.” Chance didn’t respond. “Hey!” Axel tried again, and finally, Chance turned. “Do we shift?” Axel whispered, loud enough for Chance to hear him. Chance opened his mouth. He shook his head a little, like he didn’t know what he was going to say.

  Then there was the crunch of boots on the snow. Three pairs of boots—three men.

  “Here they are,” one of them said. All three were wearing coats of thick animal hide with fur-lined hoods that covered their faces, fully hiding them. Their hands were in their pockets. They stood between the two fires so that the flames danced across them, made them appear inhuman and then human again, made their shadows morph and flicker.

  The three men moved to let a fourth through. This man was taller, slim. The fur of his hood was grey; wolf rather than rabbit. There were tassels on the ties to his clothing.

  “I wouldn’t shift,” he said from inside the thick fur hood. “My men chose these trees especially. They’ll snap, and they’ll rip you in two.” Axel thought he recognized the voice, even though that was impossible. He cleared his throat. It was sore.

  “I was wondering,” he said, hoarsely. “Hard to see my tree from here.”

  The man who appeared to be the alpha laughed. “Your tree? Glad you’re making yourself at home.”

  Chance wriggled hard enough that Axel could see him out of the corner of his eye, even looking straight ahead.

  “Are you going to let us the hell down?” Chance growled. The alpha laughed.

  “And lose my advantage?” he asked. “Why would I do that?”

  Chance stopped moving. “We’re just here looking for something.”

  “Something?” asked the alpha. Again, there was a zing of recognition for Axel.

  “We don’t know what,” Chance said, “but it’s important. We have to save my sister.”

  “We’re looking for some kind of a cure,” Axel added. “Is there a plant? Or, I don’t know, some kind of medicine? She’s hurt. She got caught up in our battle… it was a summons. She just— She ran into the middle.” Axel stopped. “She’s my mate. Please. Do you have something?”

  The alpha let out a little huff of a laugh and yanked a mitten off, putting his
hand into a pouch he had slung around him. He pulled out a slip of parchment, wax seal halved on either end, red string hanging from its middle. “The Ambrosia Coven doesn’t have a cure for you? They’re the best allies we have. The best for healing an injured pack member, anyway. If they can’t help you, no one can.”

  “Please let us down,” Axel said. “We’ll explain. This is really painful.” The alpha ignored him and ran his finger over the seal.

  “I would say you couldn’t forge this,” he said, “but considering your clothing… How did you make it? What is the fabric?” Chance growled.

  “Moisture wicking nylon blend,” he snarled through gritted teeth. The alpha put the parchment back in his pocket. He pulled his mitten back on and pushed back his hood.

  Axel did know him, though it had been years since he’d seen him: his paternal grandfather, Ingar.

  Axel’s fists closed, his nails digging into his palms. Tears prickled at his eyelids. He whispered his grandfather’s name, but the tall, slim, bearded man was up close to Chance, investigating his parka. When he was apparently satisfied, he moved onto Axel.

  “Ingar?” Axel repeated quietly. His grandfather looked up at him.

  “You were sent here?” he asked. “By who? The Northern Territories?” Dramatically, he spat on the snow after naming the pack, which had split into several in Axel and Chance’s time. Axel almost laughed.

  “No. The Ambrosia Coven.” Then something occurred to him. “Do we hate the Northern Territories? What about Juneau?”

  Ingar glared at him, his eyes full of suspicion. “What do you know of that spat? Has word traveled? What pack are you really from?”

  Axel gestured with his head to Chance. “He’s Juneau. I’m Fairbanks.”

  Ingar laughed. “You think I don’t know my own pack? You’re a third-rate spy, at best.

  First, you’re screaming your heads off in the woods, and now you claim to be a member of my own pack?”