by Elle Thorne
Astra rubbed her belly. “Not bad, considering. I think the baby’s fine. These two—” she waved toward Aje and Nevena, “—have been battling since…” She heaved a sigh. “Since forever. First, one’s winning, then the other. I think they’ll kill me before they kill each other.”
Circe gave her a smile of encouragement, hoping that Albani could sort this mess out. “And your headaches?”
“I don’t have one right now. I’m… how are you here? I don’t understand.” She rubbed her eyes, as if not believing what she was seeing. “I thought I was dreaming, but I don’t think I am.” She looked about. “Or am I?”
“This is not a dream. I’m here with you, in this world. A world with Aje and Nevena.”
Aje’s eyes narrowed, then she turned to Albani. “You told her my name?”
Albani inclined her head.
“You’re here to stop me?” Aje’s tone had a clear challenge to it. “You know I will not harm you, Albani. I only pursue her and her relatives.”
“Aje, if you kill her, they will send the Reapers after you. They have not done so yet because all of the others were not like this.” Albani waved to their bodies. “Now that we are non-corporeal, and unable to procreate, to further our lineages, to keep our kind from going to extinction, they are not so forgiving. You’ll be hunted. You’ll be taken.”
“Yes, but I will have achieved my goal.”
“But then our numbers will be reduced by two,” Albani pleaded. “Her by you, you by the Reapers.”
Albani reached out to take Aje’s hand, but before she could make contact, a river of electricity traveled between them, pushing Albani back, then snaking around to wrap a noose encircling the neck of the still-silent Nevena.
The noose rose into the air, pulling Nevena, stretching her until she was dangling, being hanged by the electric rope about her throat.
Nevena’s face turned pale, then a shade of blue mixed with lilac.
The panther roared.
Circe yelled, “No!”
The ground rippled beneath them, then shuddered, and a schism opened, pulling Aje off her feet.
The electric rope released Nevena and became a lifesaver for Aje, keeping her from falling in the slash in the earth.
Aje threw her other hand up, sending a bolt toward Nevena.
Albani flicked her wrist and offered her own bolt, intercepting Aje’s, sending it in a downward spin, where it pierced a large boulder and looked more like the mythical sword of King Arthur’s time, only it didn’t resemble Excalibur, it was a lightning bolt embedded into a boulder.
Albani’s bolt retracted, returning to her, as though it were a living creature, going back to its master.
“Jesus.” Circe took a step back.
The panther stayed by her side.
“I’m so out of my league here,” Circe whispered.
The panther’s soft growl was one of agreement.
These were powerful entities and killing her or Astra while they were trapped in this world would be an easy feat.
Astra’s fluorescent greenish-yellow eyes were wide with fear. She ran next to Circe. “I don’t even know what to do. They fight inside my head, one of them will kill the other, and then kill me too.”
“I—we—won’t let that happen,” Circe whispered.
Aje laughed, the sound mirthless.
And Circe realized the helplessness of her statement.
The utter futility of it.
Chapter Nineteen
Linc had been in turmoil.
When Circe headed to the infirmary to attend to the unconscious blonde, he had two choices. Walk away from her, or walk toward her.
Of course, walking toward her meant one thing. It meant eavesdropping. And he knew that would piss her off. But hey, it’s not like he hadn’t done that on a semi-regular basis since he’d met her.
Since he’d met her.
Damn. It had only been a day—no, a few hours ago—how the hell did that woman get so far under his skin that he couldn’t imagine a day of not being around her?
He shook his head.
Pathetic.
His lion roared.
Again, with you? Shut it, he warned his lion.
So he faked walking away until she’d rounded the corner.
And then, he crept, slowly and with stealth down the plush carpeted hallway toward the frosted glass door of the infirmary. He stayed to the side, careful not to be in view of anyone who was near the door and might see a silhouette skulking in the hallway.
Yeah, that’s exactly what I’m doing—skulking. Me. Skulking. Unbelievable.
What had he come to? He reached the glass door, well off to the side of it and leaned against the wall, waiting, listening.
No sounds came from the room within, though he knew there were several people in there.
The unconscious Astra, Kane, Mae, and Jake. And Circe.
And yet, not a sound.
He was itching to go in. Itching to see what was happening.
He thought of ways he could see, maybe an outside window? Maybe a vent in the ceiling?
Okay, I’m being utterly ridiculous now.
The door opened and his heart stopped.
Jake looked right at him. “Why don’t you come on in here instead of waiting outside.” He smiled. “We have chairs.”
Linc nodded. Thanks.”
And what did he find inside?
Astra on a bed. Kane and Mae on one side, in chairs.
On the other side, Circe, leaning against Astra, her eyes closed.
“Is she okay?” he whispered to Jake.
“She’s—I guess, it’s sort of like meditating. That’s the only way I can describe it. At least on the outside, it looks like meditation. But she’s not really here. She’s with Astra.”
Linc had no clue what the hell that meant, but he was glad he could be in here rather than being outside and not knowing what was happening.
Circe twitched once, which made everyone in the room jump to their feet and hold their breaths.
Jake jumped in, checking first Circe’s vitals, then Astra’s. He looked up from that task and nodded, adding, “They’re fine. For now.”
Linc didn’t care about the caveat. He’d just rather they were fine—period.
* * *
Six hours later, Linc was still awake and it was close to dawn. He wasn’t ready to leave, but he had to wonder if Circe was uncomfortable.
“Maybe we should pull up another one of those beds for Circe, make her more comfortable?”
Kane frowned. “Will that hurt her or disrupt anything?”
Jake gave a short headshake. “Not sure how this works.” He glanced at Mae.
“Don’t look at me.” Mae shrugged. “This is not my area of expertise.”
A soft knock came at the frosted glass door. Marie opened it with one hand. Her other hand was holding Dina’s. “She had a nightmare. Thought I should bring her down before anything erupted into flames.”
Linc gave her a terse, though appreciative smile, then turned to Dina. “Bad dream?”
“Couldn’t sleep,” Dina said, crawling into his arms. “Is Miss Circe going to be okay? She doesn’t look so well.”
“She’s fine, honey. Just fine. Maybe resting a little bit.”
“Then why is she bleeding?” Dina pointed toward Circe.
Chapter Twenty
Aje’s eyes had a shark’s dead expression.
Circe had seen this before. She’d seen it in an elemental she’d been working with. One that went insane and committed suicide during the night.
Circe recognized the hopelessness in Aje’s expression. There’d be no bringing her back from the ledge of homicide—or suicide.
She sidled closer to Albani. “She doesn’t intend to live through this. And she doesn’t really care who she takes out with her.”
Albani agreed with a tiny nod, not taking her eyes off Aje. “But it is still my duty to try. I can do no less.”
> “And if something happens to you—”
Circe didn’t want to finish that thought because if something happened to Albani, Circe wondered if that would mean something would happen to her panther and herself. She glanced toward her feline and found her studying her with a glittering emerald gaze that had a measure of intensity. It was as if the panther knew Albani’s success and wellbeing would determine their wellbeing.
And Astra’s.
And Nevena’s.
Circe’s shoulders had slumped with the weight of the pressure. She stiffened her spine. This was not the time to give into weakness or emotion. This was the time to be determined.
Circe swallowed the lump of anxiety and turned to Aje. “Is there nothing we can do to dissuade you from your path of destruction?”
Aje looked at her as though she was studying a lesser species. “What do you know of destruction, human? Without the cat, you’d be rendered to dust in less than a second. We are immortal beings that have no concept of time.”
“But you were once mortal. You once had feelings, felt love, had a child.”
Aje’s eyes grew hard at the mention of a child. “I had a child. She—” Aje pointed to Nevena, “—she killed my child.”
Tears sprung to Nevena’s eyes. “I didn’t—I’ve told you—I didn’t know—I wouldn’t have done that.”
“You supported actions which would have had all our children killed.”
Circe looked at Albani. “She endangered your own daughter?”
“She did.”
“Whatever happened to your daughter? You said she rose and led a group that killed the Barabins that had killed your people. Then what?”
“Then nothing. She has not been seen since then. I’ve looked.”
“You have not looked hard enough.” Aje spat out the words.
“Who are you to judge me?” Albani’s tone was cold. “You’re a bitter creature.”
“Then perhaps after I end Nevena’s miserable existence, I’ll end yours, then I’ll hunt down your missing daughter and end hers.”
“What makes you think you can find her when I could not?”
“Did it occur to you she might be hiding from you?” Aje’s smile curved wickedly upward.
“Why would she do that?”
“Maybe she doesn’t know that you wouldn’t kill her. Maybe she doesn’t know who to trust.”
Albani shook her head. “I don’t know why she’d think that.”
“Maybe her head has been filled with information about that day.”
Albani cocked her head. “You’ve seen my daughter? You’ve talked to her?”
“Perhaps.”
A low humming noise came from Albani, alternately buzzing and sizzling.
“You know where my daughter is?”
Aje studied her long fingernails, turning her wrist this way and that. “This has become a boring conversation.”
“Damn you. Answer me.” A flash of electricity began to form into a funnel cloud in the sky above Albani.
Aje flicked her nails, sending a current of electricity across the distance, lassoing the funnel cloud, then forming a net that closed in and minimized the cloud to a miniscule size, no larger than a fist, then tossed it into Nevena’s chest.
Nevena opened a hole in the ground with a flourish of her hands, then sunk under the path of the electric torpedo.
Albani’s eyes flashed with a surge of nature-driven anger.
Oh shit, Circe thought, taking Astra’s hand and stepping away from the two women.
Her panther stood her ground, not following Circe.
Circe tried clearing her throat so the panther could notice and join her, but all the panther did is look back, then turned her full attention on the two elementals.
Nevena was still submerged in the hole she’d created in the ground.
Chapter Twenty-One
An electric aura surrounded Albani. Golden and sizzling, it swirled about her torso, crackling and popping softly.
A low hum of a growl came from the panther. Circe wondered what the feline could feel—or see, or hear—that she couldn’t.
Aje raised her arms to the sky. “So, it comes to this.”
“My daughter.” Albani’s voice brooked no argument, no surrender. It was pure demand, pure leadership. This was not a question.
Aje’s eyes narrowed at the threat Albani presented. Her wrists twisted slightly, her fingertips extended. A rope of electricity flew out of her fingers, surrounded, Albani, then reached toward Astra and Circe, winding through the air, much like a living gigantic serpent.
The panther roared a warning and sprang toward Aje.
Aje’s eyes flared, her jaw tightened and she lowered one hand, splitting off the serpentine electricity, creating a second one that snapped and whipped toward the airborne panther.
Aje’s secondary serpentine electric bolt twisted on itself, then grew a whirling blade, pulled a ninety-degree shift, flipped and embedded itself into the panther’s side.
Blood splattered.
Circe screamed and leapt toward the panther. At the same moment, the ground began to shake. The fissure Nevena was in expanded, then a rush of soil erupted from the center of the fissure. On it stood a weak and pale Nevena.
The panther fell at Circe’s feet, bleeding profusely, the ground becoming a muddy crimson mess beneath her.
Circe turned to Albani for help, but found the elemental encased in a web of electric that Aje had woven about her.
Helpless in her human form, watching her panther’s wound drain her life force, watching Aje’s electric web rendering Albani into unconsciousness, Circe released a blood-curdling, soul-wrenching scream.
Aje turned her attention her way, and raised her hands, pointing one at the still rising Nevena who stood on the crest of soil surrounded by the fissure she’d been in. Aje aimed the other hand toward Circe, sending a flurry of electric bolts in her direction.
Astra shoved Circe, causing her to fall below the aim of the bolts.
Circe had no idea from where her panther pulled the strength, but the feline struggled to her feet and surged toward Aje, latching onto her arm, clamping mighty jaws, severing tendons and muscles, then collapsing at the electric elemental’s feet.
Aje glanced down at the panther, then at her nonfunctioning arm. She raised her good hand and sent a cascade of the same electric bolts toward the panther.
“No.” Nevena snapped her fingers. A wave of soil rose from the ground creating a barrier that protected the panther, barring her from the barrage.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Linc fought the adrenaline and worry that threatened to send his lion into a headlong rush to figure out what was going on.
Jake had already leapt to his feet and was checking on Circe. “It’s not her blood.”
“How can that be?” Linc asked.
Jake shrugged.
Mae contributed her best guess. “I think it’s because they’re in Astra’s world.”
“Is it Astra’s blood? Is she hurt?” Kane’s voice had an edge to it.
“No.” Jake put a comforting hand on Kane’s shoulder. Or maybe he was just keeping him from flying out of his seat. “I already checked. Astra’s fine. The baby is fine.”
Kane exhaled in relief.
“Circe’s not hurt,” Dina said. “At least, not yet. Her panther’s hurt.”
Linc looked down at his niece with consternation. “Why—h—how can you know that?”
Dina shrugged. “I was dreaming it.” Then a look came over her face and her voice changed. “Albani is hurt. Nevena is weak. The panther is wounded and bleeding.” Dina’s voice had a deeper timbre. Her eyes glowed with a red flame in their depths.
Linc had a feeling he was talking to Dina’s elemental.
Mae and Jake strode to Linc’s side. Mae put her hands on Dina’s shoulders and looked in her eyes. “How do you know these names? You are Dina’s elemental. What’s your name?”
“You
know my name,” Dina’s voice said.
“Tell me.” Mae’s voice had changed as well.
Linc met Jake’s eyes.
“Mae’s elemental, Benithe,” Jake explained.
Linc was dumbfounded, confused, and in his mind, his lion roared in consternation.
“Where’s Dina,” Linc asked the elemental.
“She’s yielded control to me, for now,” the voice in Dina said. “Don’t worry, I won’t hurt her.”
Linc frowned. Yeah, an elemental’s word didn’t hold much water for him. “And don’t take this personally, but—”
“I know her mother’s story,” the elemental said.
“Okay, great,” Linc conceded. “Then you know why I’m concerned. While I got you here, tell me something. Why does Dina start fires? Or is that you starting them?”
She didn’t answer him, just watched him with those eyes that now looked like they belonged to an older soul.
“What’s your name,” Mae’s elemental asked again.
Dina turned toward Mae. “Rinalli.”
Mae—her elemental, rather—gasped.
Linc was confused, but he had greater concerns now. Like how was Circe. “What are they doing in there,” he asked.
“They are trying to defeat evil, but losing. I have to help them.”
Linc was torn. Risk losing Dina to help Circe? “The hell you do.” He couldn’t let his little niece fight the battle of adults and ancient beings.
“I must,” Rinalli insisted. “They can’t defeat her without help.”
“Then I’m going with you,” he said.
“It can’t be—”
“Figure it out. I’m not letting you take Dina without me.”
Mae whispered, “Linc, no.”
Linc was ready to lose his shit all over the elemental, except the elemental was inside his young niece, so that couldn’t hardly happen.
He never got to think his next thought, because his world went dark and began to spin.
Chapter Twenty-Three
A ripple in the air near Circe was felt by all, and then before she could figure out what it was, new figures stood before her. Three human forms, a lion she knew only too well, and a tiger cub—Dina’s tiger.
