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.