Page 16 of Recipe for a Curse

Chapter 7

Iended up making a late-night trip to the mansion pantry to refill my rice flour stash. It was almost two a.m., so when I turned to find Zach standing in the door of the kitchen, I almost had a heart attack. With my hand on my chest, I breathed hard and was thankful I hadn’t started screaming like crazy.

“Um, serial killers stalk people at night,” I said.

Zach smiled. “Know lots of serial killers?”

“None, actually. That I know of. But that’s how it works in the movies.”

“Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

I waved a hand at him and pointed to the rice flour nestled in the bend of my arm. “Couldn’t sleep, so I’m baking instead. I am in the process of finishing some moon cakes for Sean.”

“I’m sure he’ll love them, but maybe you should try to get some sleep?”

“I will, I promise.” The wind whipped again, sliding around the house in a howling whine almost like the wolf, yet not. It made me stop and listen hard. “This storm is not letting up.”

“It will,” Zach promised. “Now, bed. You shouldn’t be on that ankle anyway.” He pointed to my foot.

I nodded and slowly headed back to my place, not with the intention to sleep, but to finish my baking. One of the perks of being a grown-up was that I could pick my own bedtimes, and eat whatever I wanted whenever I wanted. Downfall was the aftereffects, either exhaustion from lack of sleep or getting chubby from eating too much homemade ice cream. No one ever told you as a kid that grown-ups made bad decisions all the time. Life 101: fuck up but keep going anyway.

Back in my apartment, I resumed baking. Rolled the centers for the cakes and then covered them in the rice flour batter, rolled and shaped them into little treasure boxes with beautifully etched flowers on them. Baked to golden brown, they looked amazing, and I’d already eaten three, so I knew they were good.

My kitchen overlooked the back, right corner of the house, and staring into the trees in the dark didn’t seem like much as the snow was piling down, but I found it mesmerizing as I rolled the balls of dough. Maybe I’d make moon cakes for the whole town? Wasn’t there a New Year’s festival coming or something? When was the Chinese New Year? Would we be celebrating it? Sean didn’t seem to associate much with any of the holidays so far, but enough of the manor staff and extended family did. When I looked it up on my phone, it was in February, so we had a few weeks. I’d have to ask about it.

I blinked, pausing in the roll of my hands. Was that movement outside? Well of course there was movement. The snow was still falling, but I thought I’d caught a glimpse of something else. I stared into the woods, more darkness really, as the density of their breadth kept visibility low.

There was something out there, moving slow, careful. I caught a glimpse twice more, something passing the dark trunks of the trees. A large dog? A wolf even? The way it was low to the ground, walking on four legs and pale in color, almost matching the snow made me think wolf before bear or cougar. I set the parts of the cakes aside, covering them in plastic wrap before pulling on my new Ugg boots and coat.

In hindsight it was stupid. No one went out to greet a wolf. But I felt a bit compelled. Needed. The whipping wind did me no favors as I made my way into the tiny hall and down the back stairs to the door out toward the rear of the house instead of the garage. I had to shove the door with all my weight just to get it open.

The pile of snow that had blown up against it made me gasp. Obviously, Zach had tried to keep a lot of the spaces clear, since there was a defined line of shoveled walkway, even if it had another foot of snow on it. And the wind blowing all the snow didn’t help. I waded into it anyway, following the path and telling myself I’d have to change pajamas before trying to sleep again. Who needed sleep when there was coffee anyway?

I paused a few times, searching the distance for a sign of movement, and listening for anything beyond the wind. For a moment, an eerie silence descended, like the wind broke and settled, leaving nothing but the falling of a bitter cold.

Okay, coming out into the snow in only boots and a coat over my pajamas, probably wasn’t a good idea. I shivered, looked back toward the door a good thirty feet away and wondered what I’d been thinking.

Then I heard a soft sound. A moan or a cry? Faint. But I turned toward it anyway, tromping through the snow, visions of wolf attacks in my brain, but also worried that it was somehow hurt. By morning the temps would be completely negative, and this snow little more than an icy blanket.

I’d gone another twenty or so feet in the woods, snow up to my crotch, legs becoming numb with cold when I saw something. Not a wolf as I had thought at first, but a sled. Piled high with things, like a cooler, a blue bag which appeared to be a tent, and some stacks of canned food. The sled we’d left for Rio?

I ran toward it, heart hammering all while my body screamed at me to go back because we were freezing. When I got to it, I saw him. Curled up with the sled like a wall, shielding him from the cold. Still dressed in nothing more than boots, jeans, and a thick sweater, it wouldn’t be enough. How he was alive at all, I couldn’t fathom, though when I reached his side, he was warm to the touch though his clothes were soaked.

“Rio…” I called for him, touching his face and turning him to face me. His hair more than wild, and beard badly in need of a trim, he looked like a mountain man. “Rio?”

His eyes opened, that clear blue gaze peering up at me, tired and almost feverish. Was he sick?Of course, he’s probably sick, Montana!I lectured myself. Out in cold like this? Who wouldn’t get sick?

I reached for him, wrapping my arms around his middle and heaving him up with all I could. He was little more than a rag doll. “Help me out a little,” I grumbled at him. “David and Goliath here…”

“What do you know of Bible stories?” Rio stuttered as though the cold made it hard for him to speak.

“Lots, sadly. Let’s get you warm and worry about my lack of religion later, yeah?” We limped toward the house. At least I could see it. A beacon of warmth, fireplaces gleaming, lights on, even though it was only a handful, and the entrance to the open back door of the garage welcoming. It was the closest. I could have dragged him to the main house, but my place was closer, so to the door and up the stairs, we went. Inside my place I stripped him out of everything and shoved him into the shower, running the hot water up as high as it would go.

I had to return to the lower door and work to get it closed. By then the cold was really getting to me. When I returned to my apartment I stripped as I moved, leaving the wet things in the entry and only grabbing a towel from the closet to wrap around me and a few for Rio. I needed the shower. Heat. Warmth, and now sleep too.

He was curled up in the base of the tub, water flowing over him. Since he wasn’t shivering and seemed to be breathing okay, I sucked in a gulp of air, relieved. I put the stack of towels on the top of the toilet near him.

“Can I use some water?” I asked. “Sorry. I need to warm up too.”