Howling Hearts: Evermore Chronicles, #2

By Aspen deLainey

Betrayed and heart bruised, Rand hightails it out of the Keep hours before a blizzard hits the mountain. After being forced to overnight on the seldom used road, she awakens to RCMP Constable Colby Dunn offering assistance.

Settling into her own home, working in a job she loves, and learning to harmonize not only with the sexy cop who rescued her on that cold winter morning, but a magical wind harp? Rand believes her life's dream is coming together.

When a spring snowstorm drops Rand's ex-lover, man-eating, runaway wife Fern on Rand's doorstop, the happy dream turns into a nightmare.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Champagne Book Group
• Release date: Jul 4, 2016
• ISBN: 9781771552417

Book preview

This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

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Champagne Books 

www.champagnebooks.com

Copyright 2016 by Aspen deLainey

ISBN 978-1-77155-241-7

July 2016

Cover Art by Ellie Smith

Produced in Canada

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Champagne Book Group

19-3 Avenue SE

High River, AB T1V 1G3

Canada 

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Other Books By Aspen deLaney

Love ‘N Lies

Dedication

Thanks Jim Silvius for lending your name to my Magi. A really big thank you to my daughter for believing in my ability to craft a decent story and encouraging me to keep writing on dark nights. Thanks to my family for putting up with me for days on end when you didn't exist in my world.

One

Ah Goddess, don’t fail me now.

Adrenaline spiked through Rand’s body, lending her the strength to fight the slide she felt through the steering wheel. She braked. One tire caught traction, swinging her vehicle closer to an edge she sensed but no longer saw.

No! she shouted. Don’t you dare! She tightened her grip, knuckles whitening as she forced her strength and will into the battle for control of her steering wheel.

Time slowed. Rand held her breath, hoping she hadn’t killed all chances of survival.

The truck jerked as one tire found land. A touch of gravel under a second tire, and Rand goosed the gas, straightened the wheel in road-direction, she hoped. The hood dipped. She swung the wheel in the opposite direction only to have the truck spin on the icy road. Fighting the inevitable slide she tapped the brake and threw it in reverse.

The truck stalled. The snow settled. In that momentary clear spell, Rand found herself sitting sideways in the middle of the road. A broken guardrail bordered jagged cliff rocks behind her and glimpses through the whirling snow showed conifer treetops just level with the road, indicating a deep valley in front.

This whiteout caught her on a ninety-degree bend around a valley so deep it would have swallowed her truck whole. It would’ve been invisible until late spring at the earliest.

Thank you, Goddess. She rested her head on the steering wheel, trembling, catching her breath, before restarting her trusty old beast.

Time to hole up, girlie, till this storm blows over. Had your share of lucky breaks. Don’t push no more. She straightened the truck, coasting slowly, looking for a wider spot in the road. She shut it off downwind to keep the engine from being blown full of snow. She jerked hard on the old parking brake, setting it firmly, pushed the shift into first gear, hoping together they would hold against the gale.

Only then did she crawl through the cab’s back window into her canopied nest, closing the window behind her. She sorted through all the clothing she’d thrown into the backpack, hunting for her warmest. Shivering, she stripped off her sweater, party dress, pantyhose and fancy bra. She donned her thickest underwear and undershirt, a cotton t-shirt and two wool sweaters. Finally she pulled on her sheepskin winter coat, which barely buttoned up over her many layers.

By the time she she’d struggled into all that clothing, she was shaking uncontrollably from the cold. She forced herself against all instincts to not Change, using precious body heat to warm the clothing on her. She needed to be a lot warmer first. Even though wolf form came with its own fur coat, the extra clothing and the nest of quilts best ensured her survival. In wolf form she tended to react rather than think situations out.

She even remembered to stuff the almost frozen water bottle between clothing layers close to her body’s heat. She’d just nap for an hour, to give some of the ice time to melt.

Bundling the quilts and blankets she’d pilfered from the overstocked linen closets of Evermore Keep under and over her, tangling them in an attempt to keep from freezing, she hollowed out a nest for herself to creep into once she’d set her hanging candle lantern on the corner hook. She put several matches inside its cover so she wouldn’t have to search in the dark. She’d need that after the storm, if she didn’t freeze first.

She crawled into her nest, drawing the covers down and tucking them under her so no stray draft could find her.

If the storm ever quit, she planned to get her bearings and hit the road again. Her aim...Calgary.

She lay there shivering, not quite dozing, remembering everything her vampire friend Leticia had ever said about Calgary.

Every time Leticia ran into Rand at Evermore, fairly often up until this last set of winter storms, Leticia mentioned life in Calgary and how much she’d love visits from her friends. Leticia bragged about the comforts of her city, the jobs available for Weres, and the great friends she’d made there. She said she’d love Rand to stay with her, get a job and eventually her own place, sharing a part of the world Leticia lived in.

Rand hadn’t told Leticia she would come for sure. She hadn’t even seen Leticia since before Solstice. Seems the wizards who taught Leticia her wizardry lessons didn’t expect Leticia back at Evermore till after the Solstice holidays and then only occasionally. Rand had asked.

Topping matters off, no one knew exactly when Rand took off, nor did anybody expect her somewhere at any given time. She’d snuck out of Evermore during the height of the wedding festivities without leaving word. Jeez, she could freeze to death here, and no one would even come looking.

Way to go girl. Stormed in, in a little half-ton truck bed with a flimsy, uninsulated canopy for shelter. Too cold to drag myself outta these blankets to heat some food. So much for independence. Daddy was right when he said I needed a keeper to protect me from my dumb ideas.

She warmed in her nest, dozing fitfully as nightmares of the past months colored her dreams. She woke often, unsure if her moans or the storm’s howling winds caused the noises that disturbed her. Scenes from the mating ceremony of her ex-lover, Fern, to Clive haunted her, disturbing her rest.

Sometime during the storm she’d Changed, probably in self-preservation, as her wolf form’s fur coat added another layer of insulation against the bitter Canadian Rocky Mountain winter cold.

An extreme gust jolted the truck, waking her up from her nap, and she Changed back to human. The gray light surrounding her proved day hadn’t quite ended. The snowstorm around Rand sounded like it might be tapering off. The winds no longer screeched like a hunting flock of Banshees closing for the kill.

When darkness fell she’d only be able to hear the howling winds. Her overly vivid imagination visualized the snow building up around her truck. She shook sleepiness from her brain, knowing if she went back to sleep now she’d have nightmares about being trapped in a snowdrift till spring. Time to start heating food.

Rand rearranged her Change-displaced clothing before extending her arm from her nest. She managed to pull her supply satchel into the warm nest and unzipper it while keeping her mittens on.

She found her cooking supplies by feel alone. Crawling out of the nest while holding the warmest quilts around her shoulders, she cursed at having to remove her mittens to light her hanging candle lantern. Quickly she cleared a space on the cold truck bed for the Sterno container. She swore again when she found she had to leave her mittens off to light the fuel. But once it lit, she held her hands over the blue flame, warming her fingers back to flexibility.

Ah, that feels so good. I’ll just sit and warm for a minute.

She stared, mesmerized at the hissing and crackling blue flame in the Sterno can.

Cook something, you idiot.

She fumbled a bit, balancing the cold metal cooking trivet over the flame. She pulled her mittens back on, using her teeth to rip open the dried soup stock, dumping it into her tiny metal mug with the trickle of water she’d managed to defrost with her body heat. She opened one of the canopy side windows just enough to shove her arm through and scoop a mittenful of snow, dumping that into her cup, too. She balanced the mug, handle furthest from the flame, on top of the trivet, willing it to heat quickly.

The wind wailed through that crack, whipping around the tiny shelter, almost snuffing her little candle lantern. The Sterno flame flickered, dying before she could shut the window. Once again mitten-deprived, she removed the mug and relit the flame.

She rummaged through her backpack pouch to find a spoon to stir the mixture melting over that flame, her bottom at the edge of the covers, her legs bent at the knees, sock-layered feet closely cupping the Sterno container, trying to draw in as much warmth as possible. Barely waiting for it to completely warm, she sipped the soup.

Oh, that feels so good. Hadn’t realized I was that hungry. Forgot how much cold plays tricks with your whole gastro system. I should probably get out the big pot and make a whole meal. Yeah. Once I get this soup eaten.

The canopy nest slowly heated. Sterno throws a lot of heat.

Frost thickened on the windows and roof, proof of the moisture in each breath Rand exhaled. Remembering that a flame needed oxygen as much as she did and realizing if she waited, she’d never chip off enough ice to open the windows again, Rand opened the opposite side window, hoping this time not to extinguish her flame. She extended her arm out into the bitter cold three times to collect snow to fill the pot enough to rehydrate a whole package of trail stew.

She lit another lantern, carefully setting it in a bare area on the metal truck bed. If a fire in her blankets didn’t kill her, chatelaine Vilma, who stockpiled these blankets for the paranormal crowd living in Evermore Keep, would. She left the window on the least-windy side open the tiniest bit, just to get air, and sipped some of the water from the bottle she’d tucked back inside her sweater to keep defrosting. The smell of her cooking stew whet the appetite she never thought she’d enjoy again.

Before she’d run away, the sight of Fern with her male at the dining table usually stifled any desire for food. Or at least the ability to eat at the same table as them. Though leaving Evermore and Fern’s constant presence brought back her appetite, this particular situation might just kill her. But at least she’d go out with a full stomach.

Waiting for her meal to warm enough to be edible, Rand picked up a pocket book she’d stuffed into another pouch, rifling through the pages to find where she’d left off. She bundled several quilts around her shoulders and legs, and piled a few others in the corner so she could lean back and rest, angling her book so that the wan light from the two candles lit the pages enough for her to read.

She popped in her music player earbuds, turning the music up loud. She needed to keep her mind occupied while she waited for her meal to heat. Anything but listen to that wind wail around her flimsy shelter, striving to reach her with all the fury of a wounded animal intent on inflicting injury to its rightful prey.

Usually Rand loved storms, listening to them and watching them from a position of safety, secure in a well-insulated building, with a roaring fire and no reason to go outside. The situation she’d put herself in, out on the road with scant centimeters of cold metal between her and the raging elements, reminded her just how deadly these storms could be.

The sky completely darkened around the truck before the stew bubbled. Rand left the Sterno burning, set her mug filled with snow on the trivet, anticipating a full cup of tea once she’d eaten everything in that pot. The heat that little can threw almost made her nest livable. Livable, in this instance, meaning not quite freezing.

The cold seeping in all around, the warmth of her nest, the gentle rocking of the truck in the howling wind and a tummy full of warm stew defeated Rand’s ability to stay awake.

Idiot! Rand coughed, yelling at herself as she woke with her forehead touching the ice on the window. You could have suffocated!

Rand capped the Sterno quickly. She edged her nose close to the small opening of the window, her breath ragged. She coughed again as the cold air cleaned out the Sterno fumes from her lungs.

Gads, girl. This is not the way your daddy trained you!

Rand opened and crawled through the back window into the truck cab, bruising her stomach on the ledge when the truck lurched during a particularly strong gust of wind. She closed that window before opening her driver’s side truck window all the way, deep breaths slowly washing away her remaining dizziness. The wind whipped inside, all around the cab, taking her breath away with its chill. She found her scarf atop the backpack on the cab floor and wrapped it around her face to lessen that cold.

Damn near asphyxiated yourself, you idiot. Pull on your boots and walk around the truck twice before you snuggle up again.

Rand searched for the boots in the dark well. No sense turning on the cab light. She might need that tiny bit of battery juice later to get the truck started. She struggled into frozen boots. They’d gotten so cold the leather, no longer malleable, refused to give even a little. Finally she managed to force her double-socked feet into the ice-cold, heavy cardboard-textured boots. She dared not leave her shelter without them.

Winter-clad, all her buttons done up, mittens on, scarf and that great Canadian woolen head sock called a toque sheltering her head, she pushed and pushed against the driver’s door. It refused to budge even a little bit. She thrust her arm outside and down against the door, finding snow right up to its handle. Of course it wouldn’t open. She closed the window, not wanting her cab full of snow later.

Rand scooted across the bench seat to the passenger side door. Expecting to have to fight drifted snow here too, she pushed hard.

The door swung open fast. Rand tumbled out, face first into the snow. As she struggled up, the wind tore across her face, freezing her nose and mouth, even through the scarf. Her ear buds fell out and if she hadn’t had the player in her deepest pocket, she would have lost the whole contraption in the snow.

The swirling snow whipped around by roaring winds combined with night’s total darkness absorbed the sight and sense of the truck. The falling snow hid even the tiny light the lanterns hanging in her canopy shed.

Rand swallowed hard with fear. Which way had she fallen? She reached out one arm, seeking her vanished vehicle.

You idiot. This is not good, girlie. Get back in the truck, get back in your nest and wait this out. It is way too dark and stormy even for you. You move one step away from this truck and you won’t ever find it again. You’ll be something’s spring breakfast ‘cause nothing unsheltered can survive this weather.

She sobbed relief when her hand touched the open door. Clinging to it, she struggled up out of the drift.

Taking her own advice, Rand crept back into the truck, closing the door with a solid clunk. She inched the cab passenger window open a smidgen. Her boots came off with as much difficulty as she had getting them on.

She brushed snow off her legs and coat before she crawled back into the truck bed, leaving that window open a crack, too. She blew out one lantern, leaving the other to dimly light her area. She rearranged her nest, heaping comforters under and over her. She reached out and pinched off the lantern before burying herself completely against the arctic cold.

As her body temperature dropped in the chill, Rand Changed. She drowsed, keeping her ears perked to listen for any changes in the storm, hoping for its end. Her truck rocked as the wind hammered gusts against it.

She thrashed around in her sleep, ever dreaming of the nightmare situation she’d left behind. She dreamed that Clive, Fern’s new husband, was chasing her all over Evermore, bullying her, yelling at her, forcing her to allow Fern to join in all her activities. He stood over her, threatening physical mayhem until she changed her activity when Fern grew bored or couldn’t join. Every nook and cranny Rand cowered in, Fern showed up, followed by the monster, Clive. Demanding, always demanding. She saw, over and over, Clive sweeping her precious lamps off the dresser; the lamps her grandmother gave her for her sixteenth birthday, the ones she’d loved since early childhood. She watched Fern paw over her belongings, confiscating favored things, Clive forcing Rand to give them to Fern. She listened to Clive laugh, reminding Rand that nobody loved her, that even Fern turned away from her. In some iterations of the dream, Kevin, Rand’s last boyfriend, joined Fern and Clive, telling Rand she didn’t know how to love, couldn’t show love, wasn’t worthy of receiving love.

Nightmare after nightmare populated Rand’s dreams, all centered on Fern’s abrupt marriage, Fern’s withdrawal of the love Rand depended on. Each dream tore her heart more.

She woke fully several times through the night, alerted by the storm’s fury as it swirled around her, dumping its load of snow on this mountain road.

When the winds finally lessened, Rand at last fell into a heavy, dreamless sleep in her comforter den.

Two

Loud banging on her truck woke her. Hey, anybody in there? A very deep, unfamiliar masculine voice called out.

Realizing she needed to Change before answering, Rand kicked out at the truck bed, hoping the sound acknowledged she’d heard.

Ye gads, that’s cold. She whimpered as her sock fell off and the air stiffened the thin wolf hair on her lower leg. She heard footsteps crunching through the snow to her cab. She willed herself to Change rapidly. Straightening her clothes and pulling the sock back on, she pushed her nose out of the covers. Crisp, frigid mountain air hit her nostrils, freezing all olfactory senses, even the still-Changing, highly sensitive wolf senses, as she unburied herself from her mountain of covers.

The bright sunshine through the layered frost on the canopy windows nearly blinded her. She kicked at the cab truck window to loosen its icy grip, elbowing it open after several blows, squeezing through the small opening. Squinting, she jammed her feet into her frozen boots before she forced the passenger door open, almost hitting the bundled man, his distinctive dark blue Royal Canadian Mounted Police winter parka declaring his occupation.

You okay? Need me to send for a rescue crew? Drop you off somewhere?

She jumped down onto the snow covered road, gasping as millions of snowflakes refracted sunlight, slamming at her eyes, dazzling her. Beautiful, absolutely beautiful. And deadly cold.

I think I’ll be okay. Just let me check, ‘kay? Rand slammed her door closed.

She plowed her way through the snow around the vehicle, assessing its snow load. On the road she scuffed down to the pavement, estimating the snow depth. Not too bad considering the force of that storm. The trees kept the majority of the snow off the road, their evergreen boughs bending under the weight. She’d only have to shovel around the tires and underneath her truck to break loose.

He followed, brushing snow off the hood of her truck and kicking her tires. Do you have a shovel?

By then Rand had trudged all the way around her truck through waist-deep snow on the driver’s side back to the passenger door. She pulled her cab door open again, pushed her seat forward, and grabbed the shovel she always kept there. Yeah, I’m equipped.

Hey, why don’t you join me back at my vehicle for a cup of coffee? Then I’ll know you’re awake enough to get yourself started. And you can answer a few questions.

Rand grunted assent. Coffee sounded wonderful. Questions? Inevitable. She leaned her shovel against the body of her truck.

He escorted her to his idling SUV, opening the passenger door for her to climb in. Once he’d closed the door, the warmth Rand’s own vehicle lacked began to permeate her chilled body. She removed her mittens and unbuttoned her coat. Ahhh. That feels good.

He opened his door. A gust of winter air swept in, invading the interior. Rand shivered, quickly pulling her coat front together.

I’m Constable Colby Dunn, he informed her as he pulled off his thick gloves, unbuttoned his parka and reached for a large thermos at her feet. Guess the storm caught you. Glad to see you’re running snow chains. So many travelers forget or don’t think they’ll need them.

Rand’s nose quivered with a somehow familiar but unrecognizable scent. As if she knew this man, maybe sometime before, but couldn’t quite pin where or when. The cold, still impacting her sense of smell, denied her the ability to finish her assessment.

He lifted his seat-side console, removing a metal cup before unscrewing the thermos. Immediately that wonderful aroma of strong coffee percolated through the air, filling Rand’s nostrils, further confounding her assessment of his scent. He handed her a brimming cup. She sipped the steaming ambrosia, relaxing as it and the warmth of his vehicle defrosted her.

He poured his drink into the thermos cap cup. How’d you get caught up here? This road’s a long way from anywhere.

I grew up in these mountains, Rand explained once the coffee started the process of waking her up and defrosting her tongue enough to put words together. I pulled over yesterday afternoon, once I couldn’t see the road. Probably just after three. I had enough supplies so I knew I could handle at least one, maybe two nights on the road. Those whiteouts sure got nasty out here.

I wondered when I saw your vehicle. I swept the area last about two, before the storm hit. Knew all the local stations broadcast travel advisories, which shoulda kept folks at home. I headed back for town. Got there as the storm fully punched in. Figured anyone nuts enough to travel would just have to wait till the morning for rescue. Where’d you come from?

Rand watched as he busied himself with his travel mug, adding sugar and dried milk powder, stirring it with a thick weed stalk, all the while assessing her with sidelong glances.

She figured anyone working here in the mountain passes would know the place, so she admitted, Evermore. I left yesterday around noon, I think. My fault I didn’t listen to any weather report. I’m heading for Calgary. There, that should give him enough information.

And no one stopped you? That’s not like them. Usually Dr. Silvius himself makes sure no one leaves before a major storm. Constable Dunn stated.

It’s Solstice. And a wedding. Everybody’s partying. I didn’t tell anyone when I planned to leave. I just left. Rand defended herself against the suspicious tone she heard creeping into his voice.

He opened his mouth just as his radio squawked. He held up his finger as he pulled headphones off the console, closing his eyes to listen. His eyes shot open after the broadcast. You’re Brandy Cutter? Left last night in a raging storm? We’ve got an alert from Evermore to be on the lookout for your vehicle. Somebody’s very worried.

Afternoon. I left just after noon. Cloudy weather when I left. Only snowing a little. The storm hit after I got on the road, Rand hedged, hearing the censure in his gravelly voice. I did plan to let Daddy know where I was once I got to Calgary. I’m just not there yet.

He murmured into an almost invisible microphone before speaking again to Rand. I let dispatch know you’re safe with me. Can you make it back safely, or should I escort you?

Now, wait a minute, Rand frowned. I appreciate your detachment letting them know I’m safe. And I am sorry for not telling anyone. But I’m not going back. I’ll dig myself out and head for Calgary. Like I planned.

You sure?

Yeah, I’m sure. I’m not going back to Evermore. That’d be admitting defeat.

Miss Cutter, I have to warn you about the dangers of traveling alone out here in the mountains. Last night’s storm could have bounced your vehicle right over a cliff. We wouldn’t have found you before spring. If at all.

Look, Officer. I told you I grew up out here. I know what can happen. I’m okay with traveling alone. I always travel alone. I’ve got enough food and Sterno to keep me going a couple a days. I got lots of blankets. I got shelter. Truck’s got a full tank and I have two full jerry cans up top. Just have your office call Evermore and let them know I’m safe. Please.

"Well, okay. As long as you are equipped. Start your engine before I take off. I’ll be back this way before