by Gwen Rivers
“Okay.” She nodded once. “Come by for breakfast. Kiesha will show you where I live.”
He watched her walk away and wanted to howl with grief and fury.
His mate was the chosen one, the fae spellcaster destined to sacrifice herself to save her people from the dark fae.
Most of the pack was already in their wolf guises. Liam opened the door and howls echoed down the empty alleyways as the wolves charged forth. Autumn waited for him, wagging her tail. In her wolf form she had a beautiful pure white coat that reflected light like the face of the moon.
“Go on, I’ll be right behind you.”
She snuffled once and then darted off into the night.
Liam stripped down and let the change take over him. It had been days since he’d last shifted and as his bones popped, he embraced the pain. Better the physical torture than the emotional destruction that was tearing his mind and soul apart. He’d heard women talk about giving birth and often thought that the pain from shifting forms must be similar. Best when embraced and focused, easy to forget after the deed was done.
Once the last wave of transitional agony ebbed, he ran out to the street. His claws made little clicking sounds on the asphalt. He ducked into a shadow and waited, knowing his dark gray and brown coat would keep him concealed.
A few minutes later, Emma strode down the steps and out into the warm night. He drank in the sight of her loose honey colored hair drifting in the wind, and the bounce in her step. She turned a corner and he padded silently after her.
He waited until she ducked into the apartment she had claimed for her own and he saw the light come on.
She was happier without him. He had no right to be there. Nothing threatened her in the PR and he’d seen her take care of herself.
But those were all things the man knew. The wolf only knew his mate.
And he would follow her anywhere.
Even to the grave.
“I might have gone a little overboard,” I said as I opened the door to Liam and Kiesha.
They gawked at the breakfast bar that was covered with pancakes, waffles, omelets, bacon and sausage. The fresh fruit kababs sticking out of half a pineapple made into a rainbow of inviting color.
“A little overboard?” Liam asked, his eyes wide. “We might need more werewolves.”
My mouth twitched. “I’ll send you home with a doggy bag.”
He stared at me a moment and then grinned. “Smartass.”
“Are those blueberry pancakes?” Kiesha sounded hopeful.
“They sure are.”
“And what do you have to offer me, Kotik?” A Russian voice said from the satchel Liam held.
“A warm smile and a warning to stay the hell out of my underwear drawer.”
“But I’ve always wanted to be a thong. Da.”
“Sorry,” Liam said. “I usually don’t bring him out. He isn’t fit to be around most people.”
“It’s fine.” Not like North would eat much.
I gestured them to the breakfast bar and went to get the French Press coffee pot and fresh whipped cream I had added just the tiniest amount of confectionary sugar to.
“I can’t get over how well-stocked this kitchen is.” I settled in my own seat while Liam pushed the plunger down. “It seemed like I barely had to think of something and it appeared in the next place I looked.”
“It did.” Liam said.
I frowned. “Really?”
At his nod, I hopped off my stool went into the kitchen and thought, a basket of blueberry muffins and then opened the bottom cabinet, where I knew three sets of mixing bowls had been sitting earlier.
Sure enough, the basket of muffins had manifested.
“It was a gift from the goddess, Frigg to the fae. Although I am sure the reasoning behind it was if the fae didn’t have whatever they needed to get by, they would steal from the mortals. And then the mortals would retaliate. So, it’s safer for everyone if the homes stock themselves.” Liam sipped his coffee and his eyebrows rose in pleasure. “This is really good.”
“Thanks.” I set the muffins down on the table and poured myself some coffee.
“Better hurry up,” Liam turned to face Kiesha. “You’re going to be late.”
The girl dragged the last of her pancake through syrup. “Do I have to go, Emma?”
“Go where?” I turned to look at Liam, not wanting to contradict him.
“School.”
My lips parted. “School? Like mortal school?”
Liam shook his head. “No. We have a variety of programs set up here, everything the fae need to learn to survive in Midgard.”
“But I’m not fae.” Kiesha whined.
“You should at least see what it’s like,” I prompted.
She cast me a betrayed glance.
“We’ll meet up after,” I promised her.
“Really?”
I nodded and she grabbed a muffin before sliding off the stool.
“Escort her, North.” Liam ordered.
The sylph had been silent and I’d almost forgotten about him. He invaded a backpack and used the item to haul the werewolf girl forward. “Come, Kotik. It’s not far.”
Dragging her feet like she was heading off to be executed, Kiesha cast us one last beseeching look and then left.
“I wonder how long it’s been since she went to school,” I said to Liam as the door shut behind the pair.
His gaze moved to mine. “I don’t know. I’m not sure that going to a school with the fae is the right place for her either, but it’s better than nothing.”
He appeared tired, as though he hadn’t slept. He must have been out running half the night.
“Is Kiesha going to be all right out there with no one but the sylph?”
“Autumn, my third, has orders to trail her to and from school.”
I nodded.
“Thank you for backing me up.”
I blinked up at him in surprise. “You’re her Alpha.”
“And you’re her friend. She’s bonded with you. I think we both want what’s best for her. Still, I appreciate that you sided with me.”
“Is that what you wanted to talk to me about?” I sipped my coffee and waited.
Liam shook his head. “No. It’s about the sword. Where is it by the way?”
“Under the bed.”
He lifted his eyebrows and I shrugged, unwilling to explain that I slept better knowing it was close at hand.
“I think it’s an ancient artifact.” Liam pulled the collar of his navy t-shirt down, revealing the scar. “It drank my blood.”
I shivered at the words. “What does that mean?”
“Honestly I have no idea. I know I promised not to ask questions, but Emma, I need to know. Do you have a way to track the dark fae?”
I swallowed. There it was, the moment of truth. Liam had done so much for me, giving me shelter, food. Protecting me. And more than that, I liked him.
“Not directly. I can sense human emotions. All Spellcasters can.”
“A spellcaster is half fae, half human?”
I nodded.
“And what do you do when you find the twisted ones?”
“Mostly, I watch them commit suicide.”
Liam closed his eyes. “You’ve been out there hunting them for how long?”
“Two years.”
His eyelids lifted and he stared at me. “How many have you encountered?”
I hesitated. “Seventeen.”
Liam swore. I didn’t like the way he was looking at me. Like I was something other than the badass female he’d been curious enough to trail through New York.
“They’re all dead?”
I nodded. “Stepped into traffic, ate a bullet, jumped off a rooftop. It’s weird, almost like some sort of self-destruct sequence once I have them cornered.”
“Do you think you could kill them? If you had to.”
“Are you asking about my ability or my willingness?”
“Both.
”
I hesitate. “Yes.”
Liam closed his eyes and swore.
I got to my feet and started collecting dirty dishes. “You shouldn’t ask questions you don’t really want the answers to, Liam.”
A hand snagged my wrist. “You mistake me, Emma. I’m not judging what you’ve done. I’m afraid of what you’ll have to do.”
“Have to do…?” I frowned. “Liam, I don’t understand.”
He sighed and pushed back out of his seat. “Come on, there’s someone I want you to meet.”
8
I stood on the sidewalk and watched as Liam pounded on the door to an apartment a few blocks up from my own. “Open up, you old hag!”
“In case you missed it,” I said to the werewolf, “That is not the way to make friends or influence people.”
The Alpha cast me a dark look then returned to hammering on the door.
“Maybe she’s not home,” I suggested.
“Oh no, she’s in there. I can scent her evil stench. It’s like a whiff of brimstone and sour milk.”
“I heard that, pup.” A chain rattled and the door was yanked inward. “Impertinent, ungrateful, arrogant bastard.”
Liam crossed his arms over his chest, seemingly unaffected by her insults. “Flattery won’t get you booze, Magda.”
She huffed but then lifted both of her blue chins and stared at him. “And what will?”
“Information.”
“Regarding?” Magda crossed her arms over her ample bosom.
“Spellcasters.”
She made an indignant noise and then stepped back and tried to shut the door in Liam’s face. He stuck out a foot, wedging his black motorcycle boot between the doorjamb and door.
Magda struggled far longer than I would have. By the time she gave up, much of her iron-gray hair had slipped from her haphazard topknot, making her look even more frazzled.
“And what does the lord of the leg humpers care about fae halflings, anyway?”
I couldn’t help but grin up at the squat figure with gray curls and beady black eyes. It slid right off my face when she turned her attention to me.
“I see.” Magda’s tone changed. “And you, you foolish young Rossie. What are you doing here? This is no place for you.”
“Um….?” Did she mean her house, the PR or New York?
“She’s why I need to know about Spellcasters.”
Magda squinted at him. “And why are you coming to me then?”
Liam held out his hands. “I know we don’t always see eye to eye on how to run the center. But that doesn’t mean we can’t work together.”
Magda’s expression didn’t change. “Well then. I’ll need six crates of merlot and—”
“Not at the center.” Liam’s tone was firm. “But, if you can get them to take some of the housing, I’ll see they have what they need.”
Magda huffed. “You best be coming in then.”
“What was that all about?” I hissed to Liam as Magda waddled toward her sitting room. Her apartment was similar to mine in composition, but it had a much homier feel. A knitted afghan hung on the back of her lumpy floral couch and framed photos of different black and white images of city scenes sat on a battered sideboard.
“Magda is of the opinion that the transiting fae need alcohol to help them cope. I’m afraid if I give it to them, they’ll never leave the center.”
“What’s the center?”
It was Magda who answered me. “The building that houses the crossing to Underhill. The in-between from this pocket realm to the heart of the Unseelie Court. And where did you come from, girl?”
“A bus.”
Magda waved that away. “No no, I mean, what are your fae origins? What type of creature was your mother?”
“How did you know it was my mother?”
“Because human women can’t carry spellcasters. The pregnancy aborts in the first trimester.” Magda settled her ample frame in a chair and leaned back, steepling her fingers. “Can you lie?”
When I shook my head, she nodded then slid her gaze to Liam. “Give us a moment, pup.”
“I know she isn’t held to the Oath,” Liam said. “What I don’t know is why.”
When Magda still didn’t answer, I spoke. “It’s okay. I trust Liam.”
The Alpha flashed me a grin as though I’d given him a great gift.
Magda narrowed her eyes on him, then removed her gray shawl. Gold and purple glyphs swirled on her flabby blue arms. “You can’t lie but aren’t bound either. What’s your source?”
“My what?”
She made an exasperated sound. “Your source, the source of your power. What element do you use?”
I shook my head. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“You have glyphs, don’t you? Your mother tattooed them on you?”
I nodded. “Yes, but my magic is very weak. My brother was the strong one.”
“I think you’re confusing inexperience with weakness. How old were you when your family was killed?”
I jolted in my chair. “How did you know that?”
Magda tapped the side of her head. “My source is water and my powers are all mental. I can be reading your thoughts as easily as that book.” She pointed to a paperback book on her coffee table with an image of buff, naked man chest on the cover.
Liam’s gaze was on me but I didn’t say anything.
Magda waved her hand. “She’s useless, Liam. Whatever it is you are wanting her for, she’s too green. The fae in the center would splatter her entrails across the concrete.”
“They won’t touch her,” Liam’s voice held a warning growl.
Magda narrowed her gaze on him a minute, then hefted herself from the chair. “Well, I’d ask you to stay for a drink, but I don’t want to and I have no liquor.” She held the door open.
I looked to Liam and he glared at Magda who stared back, unflinching. After another long pause, he got up out of his chair and then offered me a hand. It was a courteous, old fashioned gesture. Even though it was weird, I took it and allowed him to lead me down the steps.
“Oh, and Wolf?” Magda said.
He turned to look at her, his green eye glowing brilliantly.
“A case of sweet red, if you don’t mind.”
The door shut firmly in his face.
Liam still simmered with anger. I let go of his hand and then took up a position by his side.
“Thanks for trying,” I said.
“This isn’t over.” Liam’s eyes held an unholy light. “If she won’t train you, I’ll have to.”
Huh? “What do you mean, train me?”
“To defend yourself.”
“Liam, you’ve seen me hold my own.”
“Against a couple of mortals yeah. Not against a fae or a werewolf. Come on.
I want to see what you’ve got.”
What I got wasn’t much and I told Liam so. He dragged me across the street to what was nothing more than a hardscrabble patch of ground littered with cigarette butts, broken bottles and debris.
“Why is this space so crappy? Surely you must have some fae who can do a little bit of landscaping.”
“The fae haven’t learned to wield magic over here yet. They haven’t done much other than sit in the center and stew.” He shook his head. “Take your jacket off.”
I glowered at him.
“It’s okay.” His voice was soothing. “There’s no one around. And even if they happened by, it’s good if they see what you are, and what you can do. Show them you aren’t a target.”
I shrugged the jacket off. Under the harsh light of day, my glyphs weren’t as brilliant as they could be, but I still felt self-conscious.
“Focus on me,” Liam said.
And without further warning, he attacked.
I was on the ground, staring up into the late morning sun, wondering what the hell just happened.
A dark figure blocked out the brilliant light. “What went wrong?”r />
“You’re too fast,” I wheezed.
Liam offered a hand and helped me up. “Fae are faster than werewolves.”
“I’m only half fae,” I snarled at him even as I took the hand.
He pulled me to my feet as easily as though he was picking up a piece of paper. “That’s right. And you can use magic against me as well. Don’t let me lay hands on you. If you do, you’re done. Let’s go again.”
Liam lunged. I saw him move and threw up a shield of hardened wind. He stared at me through the ripple of elemental magic. “What are you waiting for? Every second that ticks by gives me plenty of time to find a way past your defenses.”
I didn’t want to admit that I was sort of stuck. If I lowered the shield, he’d be on me before I could conjure more magic. And the wind barrier was attached to me, so I would gain no ground by running from him. I couldn’t attack, couldn’t escape and my defenses wouldn’t hold out forever.
“Call a weapon,” a rough female voice called from one of the top floor windows.
“What?” I didn’t dare take my gaze off Liam.
“He’s unarmed. If you call in a weapon, you can ready yourself to hold him at bay.”
“I don’t know how,” I told Magda.
Liam prowled the perimeter of my shield, testing its strength. I could feel the shield bend and stretch, like a balloon under pressure.
“If you can’t call one,” she hollered, “then look around. What’s there in your environment that can help you?”
I cast a glance around. The ground was littered with debris, old boards, pipes and rebar. I picked up a piece of rebar and held it like a baseball bat.
Liam pushed again. The shield fell and I closed my eyes and swung. The rebar connected with something solid. I opened my eyes. He’d caught it.
I hit him with a burst of magic. I didn’t mean to. It was pure instinct.
Liam went flying and landed against a hoodless car up on blocks hard enough to dent the driver’s side door.
“Shit.” I ran to him. “Are you all right?”
He was grinning up at me. “That was excellent.”
“No, that was sheer dumb luck.” Magda said from behind me.
I turned to face her. “What are you doing here?” And how had she moved so fast?