Читать книгу Foretold - Rinda Elliott - Страница 11

Chapter Three

I remembered my cell phone as I stepped into the forest. I pulled off Vanir’s too-big gloves and shoved them into the pocket of his coat.

“Please, please...” I muttered, digging the phone out of the front pocket of my wet jeans. Why did jeans always shrink so tightly when wet? My fingers stung they were so cold.

The phone was damp, but the screen came on when I pushed a button. Coral answered on the third ring. “You’re hurt.”

We always knew with one another. I stumbled over something hidden in the snow and caught my hand on the rough bark of a tree. Wincing, I got my balance and curled my sore hand into a fist and pushed it into a pocket. “Gods, Coral, it’s crazy here! I’m in a forest, wet and cold, and get this, I’m walking with wolves.”

“Come again?” Her voice came across tinny—like she was in a tunnel.

I held the phone closer to my ear. “Yeah, wolves. I crashed into a stupid river and now I’m following Vanir—”

“You found him already? Is he it? Can you tell? Does he look like a warrior?” She paused. “Wait, you crashed?”

“Coral, I’m freaking freezing here. I’ll have to call back, but I think Mom is here.” I tripped over a stump this time. I knew it was a stump because my toe hit it hard. My knees crashed into snow just as one of the wolves nudged me and I dropped the phone. The snow stung my hands as I dug for it.

“Raven!”

My fingers were so stiff I could barely hold the phone, but I got it back to my ear as I leaned on a tree to catch my breath. Wet snow on the phone pricked my cheek. “I’m here. Dropped my cell.”

“Why do you think Mom’s there?”

“Because I smell lavender out in the woods in Oklahoma during Snowmageddon.” I took a deep breath. It hurt my lungs. “I’m also lost. I gotta go.”

“But if you smell lavender that means she’s—”

I closed my eyes, squeezed them to try and generate warmth and missed whatever else she said. One of the wolves nudged my side and I jumped. “Yeah, she’s doing some kind of spell. And it’s a doozy if I can smell it when I can’t even hear her.” The wolf poked me with its nose again. “I really do have to go. So cold.”

“Call me back soon, okay?” She sighed loudly. “Just let me know you’re okay. I’ll call Kat.”

“’Kay.” I flipped the phone closed and jammed it back into my jeans.

I wanted to get to Vanir before Mom did, though I still couldn’t believe she’d actually hurt him.

Fury got me moving again. One of the wolves stayed close to my side. It was so tall that I didn’t have to bend to bury my fingers in the warm fur. I should have been more scared of the huge animal, but I wasn’t. Not right then, anyway. “I don’t know if you’re Geri or Freak—which is a really mean name to give such a beauty, by the way—but you guys have to help me. Can you take me to Vanir?”

Yeah, rationally, I knew they couldn’t understand me. The weird, glowing eyes made them supernatural creatures of some sort, but wolves with the ability to decipher human speech? Nah. Still, one bounded a few feet ahead and went stiff, tail straight and horizontal to the ground. It sniffed, so I took a cautious breath, trying not to pull it too deep since my breaths felt more like they pulled in razors rather than air.

I gagged when lavender-tainted magic filled my lungs.

That wolf took off and the other stayed close by my side, surprising me with the amount of warmth it generated every time it brushed my hand or leg. I was glad the other one stopped every so often to turn those glowing eyes in our direction because I couldn’t move very fast now. Exhaustion made my limbs feel like anchors and the pillowy drifts of snow were starting to look more bedlike with each drag of my feet. And though I could smell my mother’s magic, I couldn’t follow it to the source—not even if I wasn’t already disoriented as hell from the bump on my head and the cold.

I wished then that I hadn’t cut my hair—at least it would have kept my ears warm.

Soon, my thoughts turned into jumbled mush as I focused on getting one foot in front of the other. Most of the images tumbling through my mind were of my mother and sisters during a few of the happier times, like the summer we’d crossed a couple of states with a group of people who called themselves Travelers. Took us a while to figure out they were mostly thieves, but the gatherings at night with music and good food had been cool. Or the time we’d stopped at an RV camp and I’d dived off the edge of a small waterfall and hit my head in shallow water. Mom had kept me up all night, afraid I wouldn’t wake if I fell asleep.

She’d always had problems and my sisters and I believed it was because of the prophecy, the running...maybe even our father, who’d abandoned her after their one night together. But I couldn’t wrap my mind around her behavior now. Crazy or not, she’d never left us, and as far as I knew, she’d never hurt anyone. I had such a bad feeling that she was trying to hurt Vanir.

I stumbled again and worked to focus on the problem now. The snow wasn’t that deep here since the trees were close together and their canopies were catching most of it before dumping chunks that created drifts here and there. Every now and then, I heard it spill in heavy thumps to the ground. The lavender smell wafted by again and I stopped, tried to pinpoint its origin. If only I could sniff her out, follow the strength of the nasty flower scent to its source.

A sudden, low cry of anguish pulled me from my lull and I gave up trying to snag a ride on my mother’s magic. Instead, I shot forward, running as fast as I could manage with my body ready to shut down. That sound had come from Vanir. I knew it.

I spotted glowing canine eyes before I realized the wolf had stopped in a clearing. I burst from the trees and promptly tripped over another stump and went right through at least a foot of snow.

This time, the dizziness hit me so hard I could only roll onto my spine and shut my eyes. My back stung as the snow seeped under Vanir’s coat. The world spun around me like I was caught in the center of a tornado and I moaned when one of the wolves nudged my leg off the stump or log or whatever.

Then I realized it was too soft for a log.

I reached down, feeling around until my hands closed over denim—wet, freezing denim that obviously covered a human form.

“Oh, no,” I whispered on a choked sob. “Oh, please, no.” I rolled over and got onto my hands and knees. “Hey. Are you okay?” The dark coat had me nearly freaking out until I realized it wasn’t a sweatshirt with a hood.

It wasn’t Vanir.

But my heart caught for whoever this was. Moonlight reflected in the empty gaze of one dark eye, in the strands of snow-dusted blond bangs over his other eye. A boy who favored Vanir only in coloring. I looked for a wound, anything, but it was too dark to tell what had happened to him. Everything was too wet.

CPR! He needed CPR. My hands shook so hard I could barely get them on his chest.

I didn’t hear Vanir approach. When his palm rested on my shoulder, I sucked in a breath, my head jerking up.

“It’s too late.” His voice broke, the sound of grief gravelly on his tongue. “I already tried that.” He fell to his knees next to me. “Whoever killed him is long gone or the wolves would be running after him.”

Or her. Oh, gods, or her! I sagged back to the ground. Killed him? A roaring filled my ears. Blackness edged my vision and I squeezed my eyes shut tight. The urge to scream my own grief raged in my throat. I couldn’t understand.

Cold that had nothing to do with my surroundings swamped my body like an arctic wave. The world swirled around me much like it did during my rune tempus, but this was something entirely different. This was me, dealing with the soul-changing second, the slicing knowledge that nothing would ever be the same now.

I blinked into the darkness of the forest as I bit down hard on my lip to keep in the keening wail flooding my throat.

If I’d driven down here sooner... If I’d searched out Vanir before the idea had come to her...

Opening my eyes, I stared at the boy on the ground. Steven, Vanir had called him. His life was over and I was scared to death that my mother might have been the one to take it.

Vanir stared at his friend, face slack with shock. “I don’t see a mark on him. I need my cell phone.”

“Maybe he fell and hit his head?” Even as I said it, the cold, black heartbreak crawling through my chest branded me a liar. I sat up and dug into my pants for the cell phone. The sharp stinging in my fingers and the icy tight jeans had me blinking back frustrated tears. “You can call 9-1-1 from my phone.”

He took it. “Thanks. I’ll call...” His voice trailed off and his face crumbled. “We’ve been friends since the first grade.”

“I’m so sorry.”

He blinked at me as if trying to bring me into focus. “I’ll call my uncle. He’s the sheriff.” Vanir dialed, then cursed and looked at the phone. “No signal. I always get a signal up here.”

“I just called my sister. It worked then.” I took the phone, looked at the lack of signal bars. I didn’t know what to say. Didn’t matter. Nothing I said would help him or make this any easier. Everything took on a surreal flavor again, like I floated outside of the situation, watching it from a place where I could deal with the tangled emotions ripping me up. I looked at my hands, surprised they’d stopped shaking.

Funny, I was still cold.

When I went suddenly airborne, I yelped, “Hey! I can walk.” I grabbed his shoulder with one hand, the other clutching my phone.

He’d taken two steps, but he stopped to look down at me. “You’ve had it. Adrenaline is probably all that’s keeping you going. I’m scared hypothermia is setting in. Your hands were shaking—then they stopped. That’s bad. Where’d you put those gloves?”

“I forgot. Stuck them in the pockets.” Stretching my neck to see over his shoulder, I stared in the direction of his friend. I didn’t want to leave him alone in the woods. On the wet ground with snow covering him. It seemed so wrong.

And the guilt eating at me should have been my mother’s.

“What about him?” I whispered.

“We can’t move him. It’s a crime scene, which means we don’t want to be out here, anyway. I’ll get the sheriff, come back here—” He broke off, his arms tightening around me almost painfully.

His anguish tore through my heart. “Why don’t I wait by him? The wolves can keep me warm again. You can get the authorities and I could make noise to lead you back.”

The moonlight showed me the slight upward tilt of his mouth. A smile that tried to break through his grief and failed. “I know exactly where he is. Spent most of my life running this forest with Geri and Freak. And Steven.”

I shivered. Took that as a good sign.

He tightened his arms. Heat poured from him. Pain and cold had scrambled my brain, but I could swear something else seeped into me. A hint of relief from the pain in my head, like a sneaky narcotic attached to his warmth.

Nerves zinged with the effort it took to hold in my grief. I’d really hoped we’d been wrong—that Mom hadn’t come here to hurt someone.

Kat and Coral were going to be devastated. Pain washed over me again and I didn’t say anything else. Couldn’t. I still didn’t know for sure. Maybe I’d hallucinated the lavender scent.

He didn’t talk, either, as he carried me to his house. His anger and confusion was so thick I could taste it. I had nothing to offer him, not when I was such a mess myself. We passed through a few more thick stands of trees, crossed a clearing, and once he had to turn and take a new route. I kept my eyes closed throughout most of it, trying hard to conserve what little warmth I had left without sucking all his away.

“My house is up this driveway. It’s just me and my brothers.”

I felt the moonlight on my face before I opened my eyes to see we’d cleared the trees and were now on a gravel road. I turned my head to get my first glimpse of his home. It was hard to make out the exact shape of the house since it was nestled deep into the trees, but I could tell it was two-story and either white or some light tan color. A porch ran the length of the first floor with an old-fashioned white railing. The eight front-facing windows all blazed yellow. Smoke poured from the chimney and television noise blared through the screen door as the front door opened.

Vanir’s shoes made very little sound as he climbed the four steps leading to the porch.

“Wait,” I said, pushing on his chest and wiggling my legs so he’d let me go. He did, keeping his hands on my arms until I could stand. The dizziness was thankfully gone, though the throbbing in my head still blazed strong. My teeth had started chattering again.

Some of the light streaming from the house cut off as a tall body filled the doorway. “Vanir? Did you find Steven?”

Vanir nodded, lips pinched. His grief cut into me so strongly I couldn’t stop the breathy moan that escaped my throat.

The screen door creaked when Vanir pulled it open. “Come on,” he said to me. “We need to get you warm. This is my brother Ari.”

Ari stepped onto the porch and the light fell on his face. He favored Vanir in the shape of his mouth, nose and chin, but he had hair like mine, so dark a brown it was nearly black. He had more of it, though, from what I could tell with it tied back from his face. I wondered if, like my branch of Norse ancestors, his had settled in to mix with the locals. He didn’t look much older than Vanir.

Vanir touched his brother’s arm. “She’s hurt and needs to see Sarah.”

“She?” Ari chuckled and stepped to the side so I could pass. “Only you would find a girl in the woods.”

“Her car’s in the new river.”

“New river?” One black eyebrow lifted high.

“The crazy weather changed things up a bit around here.”

Ari leaned close, his gaze zeroing in on the throbbing part of my head. I was guessing there was a nice, fat lump there now. “Better get her inside,” he murmured.

Vanir held out his hand for me.

I didn’t hesitate, just placed my cold hand in his. This time, it wasn’t my imagination. Comfort flowed along my skin, seeped into my pores.

He tugged on my hand, pulled me toward the front door. “You haven’t told me your name.”

Vanir rubbed his thumb over my wrist. The fluttering in my gut went wild. I followed as he pulled me through the door into a brightly lit room that made me squint after being in the dark so long. Instant heat nearly sent me to the floor in relief, the smell of wood smoke strong, welcome.

Another man who looked a lot like Ari, but older, sat on a red plaid couch, his cast-clad foot propped on a battered wood coffee table. He looked up when I came in, eyes narrowing.

“Your name?” Vanir prompted.

“Sorry. It’s Raven. Raven Lockwood.”

The brother on the couch sat up; his cast-clad foot hit the floor. Hard. Vanir stopped abruptly and I ran into him before he turned and grabbed my shoulders. “Did you really just say your name is Raven?”

Startled, I didn’t answer at first.

Ari stepped past us and carefully set his brother’s cast back on the scarred surface of the coffee table, which looked like it had been dragged behind a pickup. “So...not only did little brother find himself a girl, but a trickster, too.”