Savior's Spell: A fae and fur urban fantasy (Spellcaster Series Book 1)

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Savior's Spell: A fae and fur urban fantasy (Spellcaster Series Book 1) Page 7

by Gwen Rivers


  His mate. His pup. His.

  Ours. His wolf confirmed.

  It hadn’t escaped him that the confrontation with crazy Michelle had upset her. She looked anxious, her gaze searching their surroundings as though waiting for an attack.

  He wished he’d handled it better. But he’d been so wrapped up in Emma, having her sitting across from him in Pat’s and having a woman he honestly couldn’t remember haranguing him in front of her had made him edgy. His wolf craved his mate’s approval. He wanted her to view his best sides, not the mistakes who tossed beverages on him.

  North had been right. The serial dating was coming back to bite him on the ass. He’d stopped six months ago, cold turkey. North had made a few calls on his behalf, but the wounded pride surfaced every time he left the PR.

  Emma frowned as she looked at him. “Is everything all right?”

  “Fine,” he said, because it was. She didn’t need to know his bachelor status had created a minefield he didn’t know how to navigate.

  She scanned the street and mumbled to Kiesha, “Blue jeans.”

  She was teaching the girl to examine the crowd for threats. Liam’s lips parted. That was the point of the game. To look for specific things in the middle of a busy urban center.

  Who had taught it to her? Someone who had wanted to protect her. A lover perhaps?

  The thought made his hands ball into fists.

  “We need to get to Gray’s. He’s expecting us.” Liam ushered them out onto the street. The temperature was already in the nineties, with the promise of higher humidity and the steam bath that was a New York summer trademark still to come. The smells of garbage and human sweat, exhaust and food comingled into a miasma of unique that was unlike any other place on earth.

  “Can you hear it?” Emma asked.

  “Hear what?” Kiesha looked up at her and slipped her small hand into Emma’s, which wasn’t much larger.

  “The heartbeat of the city.” Emma didn’t close her eyes but he instinctively knew she wanted to. “The pulse the rhythm that is unlike anywhere else in the worlds.”

  He started and not just because her words had so closely mirrored his unspoken thought.

  They’re bonding. He wondered if Emma realized it. At some point he’d need to get her alone and explain the vulnerable state the werewolf pup was in. Wolves were loyal creatures, putting mates and pack above their own welfare. The beast within bonded hard and fast. In a mature adult, the bond didn’t sink in as quickly, but Kiesha was so young. Even though she’d only met Emma the night before, the girl had already imprinted on her.

  The same way I did.

  They turned a corner and all the hairs rose on the back of Liam’s neck. He saw Emma glance around again, under the pretense of looking for a purple shirt as part of her ongoing game with Kiesha.

  “You sense it too?” He got close enough to ask her.

  She nodded once.

  Gray’s place was just up the street, but Liam wouldn’t take the chance. So far the dark fae had only struck under cover of night.

  But there was a first time for everything.

  “This way.” He gripped Emma’s arm and pulled her down an alley.

  She glared at him but the ring of command in his tone kept her quiet. Kiesha seemed to sense the threat as well. With his free hand, Liam punched in his contact information for Gray and waited for his second to pick up the phone.

  “What’s up?”

  “There’s something on the street two blocks from your apartment,” Liam told him. “Get a squad out here.”

  “You have the females with you?”

  “I’m taking them back to the PR.” It was pure wolf instinct, to get them to territory he could more easily defend.

  “What?” Emma’s head whipped to his. “No, I can’t.”

  “Hurry.” Liam said and disconnected before turning his attention back to his mate. “Why not?”

  Her teeth sank into her lower lip, but she just shook her head.

  “It’s not safe on the street right now.” The more Liam considered his plan, the more he liked it.

  “Then take Kiesha.” Her gray eyes implored him.

  “I want to stay with you.” The cub put her hand in Emma’s.

  Emma startled at the touch, then grasped the girl’s hand and let out a reluctant breath.

  “Where are we going?” Kiesha asked as they emerged from the alley.

  Liam flagged down a cab. “To the pocket realm.”

  The pocket realm. The one place Malcolm had warned me never to go. Full-blooded fae in numbers were almost as dangerous to spellcasters as the twisted ones. They wouldn’t kill me outright. Not with Liam and Kiesha beside me. But many of the fae didn’t like visible reminders that some of their kind chose to mate with mortals.

  I stared out the window as the city flew by. I was going to have to tell Liam something. It was becoming more and more obvious he had no intention of letting me go. And Kiesha…the thought of leaving her behind hurt me like a kick in the gut.

  How long had it been since I spent so much time in close contact with the same people? Years. Not since Malcolm and our mother died.

  “Are you all right?” Liam was studying me.

  No. I slid my gaze to Kiesha though and in classic misdirection style asked, “I thought you said it wasn’t safe.”

  “We won’t be among the pack.” As I’d intended, he believed my apprehension was for the werewolf girl, not my own sorry carcass.

  “The fae then?”

  He shook his head. “Most of them haven’t even moved into their permeant housing yet. I have a private estate.”

  “What’s the PR like?” Kiesha looked up to me.

  “I don’t know, I’ve never been.” The words come out before I could stop them.

  Liam turned to look at me sharply. “Never? Then you were born on this side of the Veil?”

  Shit. Too much. I was giving away too much of myself. Too many secrets. It wasn’t wise. I knew better.

  “Yes,” I turned to look out the window. “I was born here.”

  “So,” Kiesha refocused on Liam. “What’s it like?”

  Liam studied me a moment longer before answering. “Very much like the city, except empty. No people other than the ones we want there. It’s like living in a painting of a place.”

  She smiled at that. Who would have thought a werewolf could possess an artist’s soul? And why did I find that so...alluring?

  Focus, Emma.

  The transition happened on the bridge leaving the island. Pocket realms, my mother had taught us, had to be created over water. Something to do with giant’s magic. Giants made the rules. Some pocket realms could be entered only with a giant’s blood. It was like a giant fae clubhouse that hung out a big no human’s allowed sign.

  I felt the spell wash over me, like walking through a wall of static electricity. Both Liam and Kiesha’s green eyes glowed brighter.

  I glanced to the driver. His eyes were brown and he smelled of moss. A giant? Perhaps I could convince him to take me back at a discounted rate.

  The silver dagger was still in my rucksack. If I could hock it, I’d have enough money to get a cheap room somewhere. Maybe I could sell it to someone who promised to melt it down so it couldn’t be used against a werewolf.

  Because pawn brokers are known for being ethical.

  Liam was right, I realized. We’d gone from the hustle and bustle of Manhattan to…silence. It really was like being in a reflection of the city. It smelled different as well. More like the elements. My magic surged. What would it be like to cast a spell in the PR? I’d never been able to wield anywhere near as much as Malcolm. But maybe with the pure, untainted magic I sensed….

  “Turn here,” Liam said.

  The cabbie pointed the vehicle toward a brownstone. It was not a true reflection of the Manhattan building but the architecture fit in well.

  The cab pulled to a stop. A woman stood at the top of the stone steps, hands on
her ample hips. She looked pissed.

  Liam cursed under his breath.

  “Another one?” Michelle might be right about him being an Alphahole.

  “Is that your wife?” Kiesha, who had missed the earlier confrontation, asked.

  I didn’t let myself wonder why thinking that the Alpha might be married sent a pang through my heart. It doesn’t matter. Focus, Emma.

  “Worse,” Liam didn’t look our way as he said. “My employer.”

  That wasn’t Addison Jager. Who the hell could be the boss of the fricking Alpha?

  “Stay here,” Liam was out of the cab and heading up the stairs before I could get the words out.

  In the front seat, the cab driver’s nervousness was palpable.

  “Could you bring me back to Manhattan?” I asked him

  He nodded eagerly and then tapped the dashboard where the fare cost is displayed.

  My turn to swear. That was more than I had. But if I could pawn the silver blade….

  The woman had hair the color of summer wheat and tribal tattoos snaking up her bare arms. She wagged a finger in Liam’s face. His back was to us so I couldn’t read his expression.

  “Skathi,” Kiesha murmured.

  “What?”

  She looked up at me, her green eye still glowing. “That’s the Norse goddess of the hunt.”

  Liam ascended the steps to his home with all the swagger he could muster. He had to keep Skathi’s attention on him. He didn’t relish the goddess's input about a werewolf child or his fae mate.

  “Where have you been?” she snapped. “I’ve been trying to get ahold of you for centuries.”

  He didn’t correct her overestimation of time. It was hard for him to tell if the goddess truly didn’t understand how time worked in Midgard, or if she was just being a drama queen. “I had matters to see to in Manhattan.”

  “I am a goddess of Asgard. I do not appreciate being kept waiting.”

  Better to ask her forgiveness and move on. “Please, won’t you come inside….?”She shuddered and he had to fight a smile. The goddess hated his PA, mostly because North was one of the few creatures she couldn’t threaten.

  As North often said, no body, no problems.

  “No,” Skathi said. “It’s about the twisted ones. My sources tell me they’re organizing.”

  He didn’t bother to ask what sources. Though Skathi had appointed his pack protector of the fae, it didn’t mean he liked taking orders from the high-handed deity. Damn it, he’d told Addison not to call her.

  “I came across a clutch last night.”

  “And? Did you kill them all?”

  “Some got away.” It galled him to admit it.

  “You must do something about them, wolf.”

  He clenched his molars so hard they almost cracked. “Don’t you think I’m trying?”

  She ignored him, as was her habit. “They pose a greater threat to the human world than you could possibly know. And their numbers are growing.”

  He’d suspected as much. Not all the fae who had left the PR had died. “Do the wards still hold on the pocket realm?”

  She sniffed. “Of course. Once I set wards they do not fail.”

  Skathi’s father had been a giant. As such she knew more about pocket realms than any of the Asgardians.

  “Then the fae are only at risk when they leave here.” It took all his effort not to glance back to Emma and Kiesha.

  “You must find the savior.”

  “Maybe if you tell me who exactly I am looking for?” It was an old argument. Skathi told him what he needed to do, but never bothered with explaining how. Find the savior, the spellcaster prophesized to sacrifice everything for the wellbeing of the fae. The goddess was the worst sort of general, expecting her orders to be obeyed no matter how poorly conceived. Not for the first time, Liam wished his uncle had struck a bargain with a different Norse god. Thor might be thick, but the thunderer wasn’t afraid to get his hands dirty.

  Skathi held out a hand and an image appeared. “Long ago, the Tuatha De Dannu conquered the Emerald Isle. This was one of their mighty weapons. It is said it cannot be defeated in battle and can only be wielded by one of their blood.”

  Fan-frigging-tastic. Something else he needed to find. Liam studied the image of the sword. “Any idea where I can find it?”

  “When the savior appears, the sword will reveal itself.”

  “This savior you spoke of, what is it he can do with the sword?”

  “With the right training? Whatever is necessary.”

  With that she vanished. A moment later, the image of the sword winked out as well.

  “North!” Liam called into the house.

  Beside him, a plant rustled as the sylph inhabited it. “Da? You’re back from your night of butt sniffing and leg lifting.” The Russian accent was thick from the greenery.

  Liam’s hands clenched into fists. From experience, he knew it was better not to let his PA see his temper flare. It only made North more incorrigible. “Are any members of the pack here?”

  The planter rattled. “No. I trust they are all busy licking themselves. It’s what I’d do in their position.”

  “Have two guest rooms prepared.”

  “Company?” The sylph’s tone was intrigued. “Must be someone important for you to share your doghouse.”

  “Do as I say.” A headache was forming behind his left eye, a common occurrence when dealing with the sylph.

  “Ah ah. What’s the magic word?”

  “Now,” Liam growled.

  The planter clucked. “Is someone overdue for his shots? Lucky for you, I’m in a good mood as I just got a peek up the goddess’s skirts. Want to know what she wears under that armor?”

  “North,” Liam warned. Damn it, he was already regretting bringing the females back here. “Behave yourself.”

  “Now where is the fun in that?” With one final rattle, the planter stilled. Liam waited until the scent of ice that always accompanied North’s presence faded before returning to the cab.

  Emma licked her lips as she stared up at him. “I think I should go back.”

  Liam shoved some money at the giant cab driver and hauled her out. He shut the door and waited for the vehicle to take off before turning to face her. “At least have a look around. You said you’ve never been to a pocket realm before.”

  She stared after the cab and shifted that guitar case of hers to her other shoulder. She muttered something that sounded suspiciously like alphahole.

  “I can always have someone drive you back,” Liam told her quietly.

  He wouldn’t keep her against her will. No matter how loudly his instincts clamored that he should do exactly that.

  Her gaze darted about nervously.

  “You’re safe here,” he assured her. “The goddess set the wards herself. No dark fae can breach them.”

  She met his gaze and nodded once. He got the odd impression the twisted ones weren’t what she feared but all she said was. “Okay.”

  Kiesha’s eyes were huge as she stared up at the converted building that had been his home for the last six months. “How many people live here?”

  “Just me.” And now the two of you. He didn’t say the words out loud though. Emma looked too wigged out.

  “And we’re to stay here until the construction is done?” Emma asked.

  They’d stay forever if he had anything to say about it. “You’re welcome here as long as you like. North, my PA, guards the place so no one else can come or go without my express permission.”

  “Da? Did I hear someone call my name?” The sylph popped into Emma’s guitar case. She yelped and dropped it.

  “Ouch, that smarts.” The case said.

  Kiesha giggled. “What is that?”

  The sylph moved from the bag into the porch light. It swung to and fro on a phantom breeze. “My name is North. I used to be the North Wind until I was set free. Now, I go where I wish.”

  “You were the North Wind?”
Kiesha’s eyes were huge.

  “Not here. In Underhill,” Liam explained. “Spirits used to be tied to the elements, so the fae could more easily command their magic.”

  Emma gave him a sidelong glance. “I thought the freed spirits were supposed to go back into the Veil?”

  “Da. Many of them did.” North sniffed. “They were weak. But me, I have skirts still to chase, goddesses to bed—”

  “North,” Liam’s tone was dangerous. “Keep it PG.”

  “Fun yet to be had.” The sylph moved to Kiesha’s jacket and tugged her forward. “Come, Kotik. Let me show you where you will stay.”

  Kiesha shrugged out of the jacket and it took off up the stairs without her.

  “He’s colorful,” Emma said in a dry tone.

  “He’s the product of an experiment gone wrong. I agreed to take him in and keep him out of trouble.” More accurately, North had adopted him and Liam had no choice since he couldn’t threaten bodily harm to the annoying sylph.

  She picked up her guitar case. “That’s kind of your thing, huh?”

  Her amused gray eyes mesmerized him. “What is?”

  “Collecting misfits.”

  “All werewolves are misfits. We’ve died but we aren’t dead. North never really died and doesn’t intend to pass on.” The sylph was too busy inhabiting every rug and looking up every dress. But Liam didn’t tell her that.

  Emma cast one more glance around the space. “You’re sure—”

  “Yes,” he took the case off her shoulder and settled it over his newly healed one. “I am. Come on in.”

  The pocket realm was just like New York sans humanity. No emotions other than my own rattling around in my head. The breeze that blew in through the open windows held no trace of gen-pop. We ascended the stairs to the third floor

  “The first level is for official pack meetings as well as the medical center for the PR. The kitchen and living room are on the second story. Work out facilities are in the basement. No one can come beyond floor two unless North allows it.”

  Liam ushered me to a large bedroom with pale blue walls, transparent white curtains and a large bed.

  “Kiesha is across the hall. I’m down on the end.” Liam paused in the doorway, looking as if he didn’t want to intrude on my space. “In case you need anything.”

 

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