“Not a single Muraco, and we tried damn hard.”
“This is bad.”
Marrok smiled at Bader, hearing Oriana’s voice in his head saying, “You have a way with understatements.”
“If we can’t track the Muracos, where does that leave us?”
He’d posed the question to the one person he hated asking anything from. Kalinda would view it as confirmation of Marrok’s inability to co-rule Steelcross instead of a smart decision to seek help from an expert. It’s what sensible people did, no judgment attached. Not so with Kalinda, who had a way of looking at Marrok as if he were to blame for Oriana’s injuries instead of a bunch of witches.
“Oriana told me you believe the Muracos are in one of the full-human realms, maybe Aphelion Umbra because it would’ve been a shorter magic jump since the region is within Steelcross Realm. But they could also be in Perilune Rille, putting them in Irongarde and closer to Janus Nether.”
“If I were a betting werewolf,” Bader said, “I’d wager the Muracos are in Perilune Rille. I don’t think the witches helped them escape just to let them run wild.”
Neither did Marrok.
“From everything we’ve heard from Marrok and Solange, the witches were upset over Oriana’s push to better include werewolves into society. What better way to undermine her efforts than to drop a large number of Muracos in the middle of Janus Nether. We know what they’ll do, if they’re loose in that area.”
“Go straight for black werewolves,” Marrok said, a heavy feeling of foreboding in his chest. “They’ll try to turn as many as they can. Once they do, they’ll head for the seat of Earth Rift’s power—Kalinda and Irongarde.”
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you sound worried about my safety.”
“Leave him alone, Kalinda. Your claws are bigger than mine, and deadlier too. Sheath them. It’s not Marrok’s fault, so stop blaming him. He’s learning, doing the best he can, just as I did when I was his age. And just as you did, when you were a new, untested Matriarch.”
How a werewolf as self-possessed and kind as Aku Bader married a witch like Kalinda, Marrok would never know. But the werewolf must’ve been a bear tamer in a former life because Matriarch Kalinda nodded once to Bader before turning on her high heels and stalking away from them and back to Oriana. Claiming the seat vacated by her consort, Kalinda held Oriana’s hand, effectively withdrawing from the conversation.
“Don’t mind my wife, Marrok. Kalinda doesn’t handle stressful situations well. She can run an entire planet with ease but let someone she loves gets hurt, she loses it. “
“It’s fine. I know she doesn’t like me.”
“It isn’t fine, and Kalinda dislikes anyone she’s forced to share her daughter with. Including me.” Bader tilted his head toward Solange, who appeared as if she were contemplating her odds of making it out of the bedroom without Kalinda recalling she hadn’t received a full verbal report from her. “Including Solange. The only exception is Keira, and that’s because she views her as an extension of Oriana.” As he’d done in Kalinda’s library the night of Keira’s birth, Bader hugged Marrok. “You’ll grow on Kalinda.”
“Like a ringworm?”
Bader chuckled. “Yes, I’m sure Kalinda thinks of us all as fungal bacteria, infections in need of treatment.” The Aku grabbed Solange and hugged her too. The witch wrapped her arms around him with a comfort that came with familiarity and trust. “Thank you and Nahara for watching over Oriana. She chose this path for herself. The pain she’ll feel upon waking won’t compare to how she’ll feel on the inside after taking the lives of her Crimson sisters. Kalinda doesn’t understand, but I do.”
There was a hell of a lot Kalinda didn’t understand about Oriana. In fairness, he also took issue with her permitting herself to be physically injured. The witches had earned their fate. Still, he wasn’t the one responsible for following through with the death penalties. Would he view Oriana’s actions differently, if it were his hands used to usher people from life into death?
“Go and take Nahara with you.”
“Are you sure?”
“You mean will the Matriarch be upset I sent you and Nahara home?” He shrugged. “It’s nothing I can’t handle. You’re tired. Go. Shower. Sleep. Tell your mother I said hello and thank her for training my daughter so well she was foolhardy and brave enough to start a fight with twenty-two witches.”
Solange’s grin reminded Marrok of how young they all were, despite their grown-up responsibilities.
More strategic than she’d been the first time, Solange used Whisperers of Echoes magic to jump from the room.
“Smart girl. Listen, I’m here, and Kalinda’s here. Go see Keira before she starts crying for her mother again.”
Kalinda had selected her consort well. He knew how to get his way without insults, guilt, or arguments. By appealing to the father in Marrok, he circumvented any protest Marrok would’ve made to a suggestion that he shower, eat, or do anything other than wait by Oriana’s side.
“If Oriana’s condition changes, we’ll have someone find you right away.”
Even knowing he needed to check on his daughter, the way Oriana would want him to, Marrok paused, unable to make his legs move.
Bader pushed him toward the closed bedroom door. “We’ll take care of her.”
He knew they would. With a final glance to Oriana, Marrok left. After spending time with Keira, Marrok would try reaching Zev again. His brother had been pissed at him since he’d married Oriana and moved to Steelcross. Because he refused to visit, Marrok had to drag his ass to Wild Moor whenever he wanted to spend time with his oldest brother. That had gotten old real fast, but Marrok had put in the miles anyway.
When not talking about his life with Oriana, the brothers got along as well as anyone could with Zev. But his brother was being an asshole, for some reason, not answering or returning his calls. Yeah, he’d call him again and again until the jerk got over whatever had crawled up his ass and died and answer his damn line. If he didn’t, he’d wait until Oriana was awake and well and then catch the first Magerun transporter to Wild Moor. Either way, he would find out what was going on with his brother.
April 18, 2243
Perilune Rille
Apogean Tide Borough
Bhavari watched the werewolf struggle against his wrist and leg shackles. The chains, moored to the concrete floor and wall, would do the job. Abelone had assured her both would hold, as long as Bhavari added a bit of magic to strengthen them.
“The chains are made of steel, I’ve reinforced them with magic, and you’re in human form. You’re wasting both of our time. You can’t escape.”
“Screw you. When I get out of here, I’ll slit your throat and drink your blood.”
Bhavari tsked from her seated spot in the corner of the room closest to the door, legs crossed, and patience almost gone. If this didn’t work, she’d throw him in with the Murcao and let them turn him. She’d promised the animals two things—a black werewolf who’d lead them into Janus Nether and open season on the witches of Irongarde City. If the werewolf on the operating table cooperated, she’d fulfill her first promise. As for her second promise, Bhavari tsked again, Matriarch Kalinda would have every Muracos’ head mounted to her wall long before they stepped one white paw into Irongarde City.
“Slit my throat and drink my blood? I was unaware werewolves enjoyed fantasy. Do you think yourself a paranormal creature of the night, slipping through the window and into the room of a helpless female, your vampiric scent an aphrodisiac she can’t defend against? Tell you what, if you’re a vampire, turn into a bat for me.”
“You’re a crazy, soon-to-be-dead bitch.”
He snapped and snarled, muscles flexing all over his naked body. He hadn’t seemed to notice his nudity either. After jumping him from the clinic, using his shock the perfect opportunity to jab a syringe in his neck, incapacitating him, she’d stripped the werewolf, expelling a breath when she found he carried no weapo
n.
“I’m going to kill you. Kill you good and dead.”
Vulgar curses followed more pointless struggles, the chains rattling with his efforts, the magic glowing yellow. But chains and magic remained intact.
“You’re going to kill me?”
“Hell, yes. I’ll enjoy it too. So good. I can already taste your blood and magic in my mouth, as I rip you to shreds.”
Bhavari wondered about the time, the day. This room, like the rest of the complex, had few windows. How long had she been there? When would Abelone arrive? They’d known they’d had until the date of the Rage Disrupter system’s biannual audit before the data technicians’ creative reporting would be discovered and the offline disrupters brought to Matriarch Oriana’s attention.
“The auditor can’t be bribed, bullied, or brought into the fold,” Abelone had told her. “I don’t even want to risk going to her with our plan. She’s the type to run back to the Matriarch. We can’t trust anyone but our small group. We’re lucky to have secured the help of the data technicians. They’re true believers, like us.”
Except for the girl on first shift. Bhavari didn’t want to know what Abelone had said or done to the girl to change her mind. For their plan to work, they required the allegiance of the three data technicians to cover all the shifts. Matriarch Oriana would’ve figured that out by now. The same way she would’ve concluded who the likely culprits were in helping the Muracos escape.
But figuring out the how of a plan after its execution meant nothing. The Matriarch was still five steps behind them and wouldn’t be able to prevent what came next. They’d gotten unexpected help. The kind that should’ve seen them dead for what they’d done.
Bhavari swung her foot, the way Abelone did when she was nervous or agitated. Being left alone with so many Muracos, with only their benefactors magic keeping them hidden, Bhavari was both. When would Abelone get there? She was their leader, and better at handling schemes and werewolves than Bhavari.
“Have you exhausted yourself?”
He snarled something at her, likely another inventive curse. She waited, giving him another three minutes. He really was stupid. How could he have not noticed? Maybe he wasn’t smart enough to get the job done. Then again, she only needed him to point the Muracos in the right direction. His reign as their leader would be short-lived, but he’d serve their cause well.
“Notice anything?”
“Yeah, come closer so I can tell you.” Sharp, deadly fangs slid against his bottom lip. “Yeah, close enough for a kiss, a taste, a,” —he snapped at her— “bite.”
Bhavari pushed to her feet, walked to the foot of the operating table and stopped. “Werewolves heal fast. I had to give you a little trim to get to the part of the scalp I needed but your hair is already growing back. In another day or two, you’ll never notice.” She tsked again. “Not that you’ve noticed the obvious. I was in your brain, so I know you have one.”
He tried reaching for his head, but the chains held him in place.
“What did you do to me, you crazy bitch?”
“I gave you what you hoped to find in Apogean Tide Borough. For the record, the underground clinic that charges exorbitant prices to remove Rage Disrupters is a scam dumb werewolves, like you, keep falling for. They would’ve taken your money, shoved something in your head or neck, I have no clue what, then sent you home, thinking you were disrupter and collar-free. That is, until whatever they give werewolves that temporarily interferes with the Rage Disrupter wears off.” Bhavari pointed to her neck. “Then you would’ve been right back where you started, with less money in your bank account and no legal recourse because, well, dumb you paid money with intent to break the law.”
“What are you saying?”
“I think I was clear. You came all this way looking for a fountain of freedom from healers as fake as your fabled vampires. I, on the other hand, was there looking for a black werewolf partner from Janus Nether. Specifically, I heard you tell one of the charlatans at the clinic you were from Wild Moor, which is perfect.”
“You were there? I didn’t see you.” He shook his head, eyes clearer the longer they spoke. “This is crazy. You’re crazy. Do you have any idea who I am? Who my brother is?”
“I don’t know, and I don’t—”
“Marrok, Cyrus of Steelcross.” He laughed, a mix of snarl and mockery. “Yeah, I caught your scent change. Marrok’s my baby brother and consort to Matriarch Oriana, now let me out of these damn chains.”
Bhavari’s eyes roamed his body—taut and strong. She could dissect him, beginning with removing his foul, annoying tongue. She’d either chosen very badly or stumbled upon something quite delicious. Oh, the irony of it all.
“If you were anything like your brother, I wouldn’t have found you in an underground clinic.” She touched his leg, hard and smooth, like the rest of him. “No, I don’t think you’re anything like your brother. I bet he doesn’t even know you came to Perilune Rille.”
He flinched, from her touch, or her laugh, she didn’t know.
“What does my scent tell you now?”
“That you’re crazy.”
“You’ve said. I have a plan. Interested?”
“Do I have a choice but to listen?”
“You don’t. But I think you’ll like my plan. I can only imagine what you wanted to do once you had your disrupter removed.”
“That’s none of your business.”
“What if I told you, if you agreed to work with me—”
“I don’t work with witches, especially one who kidnapped and operated on me. Go screw yourself.”
“—that you’ll have over a thousand Muracos at your disposal,” Bhavari continued, unconcerned with the werewolf’s hostility.
If he proved useless, there was more where he came from. She didn’t relish the idea of going back out on the street and to the clinic, though. Surely, Matriarch Kalinda would’ve dispatched her Crimson Hunter by now, which could explain why Abelone was late.
Bhavari pushed the unpleasant thought away. Abelone was late because she was being careful, taking extra precautions to ensure her magic couldn’t be traced.
“At my disposal?”
“Ah, that got your attention. Fancy yourself a leader, do you? Want to lead a rebellion? Kill witches? Make your brother, or even yourself, Patriarch of Earth Rift?”
“Witches don’t kill witches or side with werewolves. What’s your angle?”
“Lead my army of Muracos or die on this table. Those are your options.”
“Not good options, but I’m listening.”
Bhavari laid out the small portion of the plan he needed to know. When she finished, she realized two things about the black werewolf. One, when he smiled, it hid the vile creature he was at heart. Two, he intended to double-cross her. That was fine. She expected nothing less from a werewolf, including his underestimation of witches. It would make leading him and the Muracos to slaughter that much easier and enjoyable.
“Do we have a deal?”
“Yeah.” He yanked at his arm restraints. “Now release me.”
“I will. What’s your name? I need to call you something.”
“Fine. Whatever. You can call me Zev, and I’ll call you Crazy Bitch. How’s that?”
“Nice to meet you, Zev.” Bhavari shook his hand, increasing the magic around his wrists until she heard a snap. The bone would heal in an hour or two. “Make that the last time you call me a crazy bitch. Now” —she snapped her fingers, breaking the magic and the chains that bound him— “let’s go. You have clothes to put on and Muracos to meet.”
I’ve tried speaking to Kalinda, as have Tuncay. She refuses to listen. I’ve never met a more obstinate witch. Ironically, I’ve heard Tuncay say the same about me. But the conversation Kalinda keeps avoiding isn’t the same as my efforts with Bronze Ward or kissing experiments that still leave Tuncay sick and me guilty for causing him pain. We should’ve never renewed that particular experiment. But where
I may be stubborn, Tuncay has proven that patience is the greater trait. Hence, my changed mind after so many years.
Yet, for my stubbornness and Tuncay’s patience, we are no closer to bridging the divide between witches and werewolves. Magic and power are at the heart of the tension. I’m afraid that will always be the case. Worse, I’m worried about Kalinda. It couldn’t have been easy being raised by an “unorthodox Matriarch,” as witches have called me for years. I never cared what closed-minded witches thought of me, so consumed with maintaining their place in the world they’ve ceased caring, if they ever did, about those less fortunate than themselves.
Perhaps if Tuncay and I had given Kalinda a sibling, or spent less time focused on Bronze Ward, she wouldn’t use aloofness as a form of emotional shielding while also being so covetous of the few people she’s let into her heart.
I need to help her understand that an equalitarian Earth Rift is our future. But first, I need to spend more time with my daughter. One day, she’ll be Matriarch of Earth Rift. I question if I’ve prepared her well. I fear I haven’t.
Blinders
April 21, 2243
Perilune Rille
Apogean Tide Borough
Damn werewolves were everywhere, filling up every inch of the warehouse with their hostile, impatient energy and near constant whining as to when they could “leave this place” and “kill some witches.”
Bhavari slammed the door, shutting out the incessant voices and locking herself in the room she used as her office. It was the same concrete space where she’d kept Zev.
“I need to go home,” he’d told her two days ago. “My family will be worried. And what in the hell did you do with my comm phone? It wasn’t in the stuff you took off me.”
She’d fried the device, while he’d been unconscious. Trackers were standard on all comm phones. While she may not have known Zev’s connection to Matriarch Oriana, when she’d abducted him, she hadn’t wanted to risk a concerned family member finding their hideout if they came looking for Zev.
Promise Forever: Fairy Tales with a Modern Twist Page 47
