Mind Over Matter

by Shea Balik

  Tess smiled over at Wylie. “Do you think he cooked with bugs?” Her fit of giggles was too infectious for Wylie to stop from joining her.

  “Brat,” he told her as he followed Fritjof down the steps. “If he did, you’re eating my share.”

  “Nope,” she said. “You know the rules. We have to eat what is put in front of us.” He could see her tilt her head and scrunch up her nose and lips for a moment before saying. “Since grandma and grandpa aren’t here, do we still have to follow their rules?”

  Now it was Wylie’s turn to say, “Nope.” He made sure to pop his P. “From now on we eat what we want, make as much noise as we want, and we can even go outside and play as often as we want.”

  As far as he was concerned, his parents, or the man who he’d always thought of as his father and his mother, could go fuck themselves. It was time for Wylie to be who he was again, makeup, colorful clothes, and all.

  More importantly, he was going to make sure Tess had a real childhood instead of always having to hide. It might have been necessary, but it hadn’t been fair. And Wylie was going to see to it that she got to do all the things she’d missed out on.

  Happier than he had been in years, Wylie had a real smile on his face as he entered the kitchen to find everyone already there, even two little boys who instantly welcomed Tess into their little group.

  CHAPTER 9

  “Yeah, I’m so not doing that,” Wylie said as Fritjof held out a sword for him to use.

  Nothing about Wylie had made any sense to him. Not his carefree attitude, his never-ending need to gossip, and especially the way he turned every little mole hill into Mt. Everest.

  “Why not?” Fritjof asked. “You know how to use knives. My balls still shrivel up whenever I think of how close you were to cutting them off.” Not exactly true since Wylie, while pretty good with a knife, still had a lot to learn. “Why would you have no problem using knives but not a sword?”

  Those brilliant blue eyes looked at Fritjof as if he’d lost his damn mind, which the more time he was around Wylie, could actually happen. Everything about Wylie drove him insane. He wasn’t sure which was worse, the times Wylie’s actions left Fritjof wondering how he could behave like life was nothing more than a game.

  Or, and this was even harder for him to swallow, when just being around the sexy man had him wanting to reach out and kiss him until they were both breathless and wanting. Yeah, that was the unbearable part.

  He’d tried to keep his distance, but there was just something that keep drawing him back to Wylie. Like a moth to a flame, Fritjof feared he’d eventually get burned.

  Wylie waved a hand up and down his smaller, yet lithe and sexy as fuck, body. “In case you missed it, I wasn’t exactly granted muscles when God created me. I think he thought it wouldn’t be fair, since he made me so damn hot.”

  Wylie stared at Fritjof for a full minute as if expecting something from him. But, try as he might, Fritjof was struck dumb and words, much less his brain, failed him. How was he supposed to think when Wylie not only had pointed out his body, but in doing so, also lifted up his shirt, showing off his perfectly smooth, tanned abdomen.

  Sure he was about to drool as his mouth watered for the chance to lick along that perfectly flat… Refusing to allow his mind to go there, Fritjof turned back to the wall and replaced the sword.

  It took far too much effort, but eventually he was able to speak again. “So, you’re comfortable with smaller weapons. That’s something we can work with.”

  “Why bother?” Was that anger in Wylie’s voice?

  Whirling back to face him, Fritjof tried to find evidence of it in his face, but there was just that damn plastered on smile that Fritjof was beginning to realize was fake. “You need to be able to learn to fight the Fae and their pets,” Fritjof reminded him.

  Wylie crossed his arms as if determined to stand his ground. What Fritjof didn’t understand was what ground was it? Fighting was what they did. Hell, his whole life had been forged in knowing how to battle the enemy.

  “From what the others told me, I’m supposed to have gotten some sort of ability,” Wylie reminded him. “Magic to fight the Fae. Isn’t it more important for me to learn how to use that?”

  When Fritjof didn’t answer right away, mainly because he didn’t have an argument for that, Wylie smirked at him. “That’s what I thought.” Turning on his heel, Wylie headed for the door.

  “But you don’t even know what ability you have,” Fritjof called out. “From what the others have said about finding theirs, it was during battle with the pets. How are you going to figure out yours?”

  Wylie stopped in his tracks, his shoulders slumping slightly. “Maybe, if someone ever had faith in me, they’d believe I’d find it.”

  Fritjof felt as if he’d been punched in the gut at the way Wylie’s voice had sounded so small, so defeated. He’d been an ass.

  In his need to keep his heart safe from Wylie he’d managed to screw up with the man. If they were going to defeat the Fae and seal the Veil, Wylie needed to believe he could do whatever it took to succeed. Yet, Fritjof had acted as if Wylie wasn’t good enough, which was the furthest thing from the truth.

  About time you’re willing to admit the truth.

  Fritjof shoved that voice as far down as possible, for he might be willing to admit he needed to support Wylie, no way was he going to do more than that. Love was still off the table. Permanently.

  Keep telling yourself that and you just might start to believe it.

  Grumbling about shutting the hell up, which even to him sounded ridiculous, since he was basically talking to himself about himself. Storming out of the basement training room, he stalked Wylie down. Whether the feisty druid liked it or not, he was going to need Fritjof’s help in finding his power.

  If nothing else, Fritjof could probably piss him off enough to discover it. Fritjof seemed to excel at irritating Wylie.

  “It’s like there’s something within me, a piece inside that I have to access when I want to use it,” Ryley said as he and the others worked to help Wylie not only discover what his ability was, but to figure out how to use it.

  So far, nothing any of them said had worked as far as Fritjof could tell.

  “No,” Dermot said as he called up ice crystals to form on his fingers. “It’s just there. I mean, Ryley’s right about it being inside of me, but it isn’t just a piece.” His hand went to his chest, pointing to the flat surface. “It is me.”

  Then he melted the ice that had risen up from his other hand. As it poured down onto the ground, it morphed back into crystals, creating an icicle that hung from the tips of his fingers. “There’s no having to access it. It just is. Willing to do whatever I will it to do.”

  Of course, Wylie’s inability to find his own magic might be because none of his friends could agree on how they used their own magic. Kegan’s was probably the scariest explanation of all, for he still, to this day, had no control when scared.

  If a pet was too close, lightning just came out of the sky, turning to ash anything mortal within its path. That didn’t mean he had no control, for in battle, when the pets weren’t nearly on top of him, he had the ability to wield the powerful force to kill them with precision.

  The more Fritjof heard them describe their abilities, the more terrified he became. Not for himself, for he was immortal. There was little they could do to kill him, but Wylie wasn’t. Neither was Tess.

  Frustrated, Wylie threw his hands up in the air and yelled at his friends, “Seriously? You all have been doing this for at least six weeks and in Ryley’s case, since Samhain. How have you not figured it out yet?”

  Good question.

  Fritjof and his friends trained every damn day, from the time they woke up until dinner. The only breaks they took were to eat, which because of the sheer calories they burned throughout the day, meant stopping at least three times between breakfast and dinner to fuel up. Oluf had more time off as he had to prepare the food
they ate. While Hrafn took extra time to tend to the horses they still kept around.

  But other than that, well, before the druids started showing up anyway, they trained every minute of every day between those times. It was imperative that they were able to fight no matter the condition, no matter the injury, no matter how many pets they faced. Anything less meant people died.

  “It’s not like there’s an owner’s manual,” Kegan grumbled.

  “Considering you’re liable to zap anyone close by if you get scared enough, there should be,” Wylie told his friend. “What is wrong with all of you? This is a gift that has been handed down to us, yet none of you have taken the time to discover all you can do with it.”

  All five of his friends looked anywhere but at Wylie as they refused to meet his very pointed glare. “Never mind. I’ll just figure this out on my own.”

  After everything Fritjof had heard and seen, Wylie would be better off doing it by himself, but he was determined to help, and he had an idea on how to accomplish that. Pushing off the side of the log house he and his friends had built from the trees they’d cleared from this piece of land when they’d first arrived shortly after the discovery of America, he walked back into the house in search of some help.

  Seeing Eirik and Bjorn coming up the stairs, he smiled. This would be perfect. “I’m going to need your help but it’s going to be a bit unconventional.”

  Bjorn shrugged. “Name it.”

  Eirik, on the other hand, lifted an eyebrow and said, “How unconventional?”

  He quickly explained what happened outside.

  Bjorn chuckled. “My poor dollface. He really has trouble figuring out how to control his ability when he’s scared. Right after the Beltane, when we’d discovered the invisible Seelie, any time I came up behind him, he fried my ass before he could stop himself.”

  Why Bjorn thought that was funny, Fritjof wasn’t sure. “Yeah, great, until it’s one of the kids.”

  Bjorn shook his head. “Nah,” he said even going so far as to wave his hand before him. “Kegan manages to jump in front of them before they get hit.”

  Fritjof blinked at Bjorn, sure he hadn’t just heard what he thought he heard. “Are you telling me Kegan’s nearly electrocuted one of the kids?”

  Bjorn lifted his hand and tilted it back and forth in a ‘kind of’ gesture. “Nothing happened, except for Kegan getting a little charred.”

  “And none of you thought it might be a good idea for them to not only train, but discover the core of their magic? You know, so they don’t turn one of the kids to ash?” Fritjof just couldn’t believe this had been happening. Then again, he tended to stay away as much as possible.

  Yeah, because you don’t want to face that you do want to find someone to love.

  It was on the tip of his tongue to tell that stupid inner voice to shut the hell up, but thankfully, he was able to stop before he’d embarrassed himself in front of his friends.

  It was Eirik who shrugged this time. “It’s not like any of us understand what they can do, much less how it works.”

  “Wasn’t Ryley training with Fen?” He remembered the fireworks between the two as Fen did what Fen did best and talked down to Ryley, who didn’t appreciate it.

  “Yeah, but they butted heads all the time.” Eirik frowned. “You know, I really don’t know if that’s why that stopped.”

  Bjorn let out a sound between a snort and a laugh. “I would say that’s exactly why. The Fae has a way of annoying the shit out of everyone.”

  “Yeah, but is being annoyed really as bad as frying someone who isn’t immortal?” Fritjof pointed out. Then he shook his head. “That’s for later. Right now, I need to force Wylie to discover his magic.”

  “And how do you think you’re going to accomplish that?” Bjorn asked.

  Fritjof smiled. “With both of you turning into bears and threatening Tess.”

  Their eyes nearly bugged out of their sockets. “We’re not about to traumatize that little girl.”

  “If it will help Uncle Wylie, I’ll do it,” Tess said from where she sat on the stairs, where none of them had even noticed her. Those violet eyes looked first at Eirik, then at Bjorn. “But you have to promise me that you’ll let me pet you both first.”

  Fritjof had no idea how Tess knew about their ability to shift. Wylie didn’t even know, well, so long as his friends hadn’t told them, which was doubtful since they’d only been in the house for two days.

  It was something he’d planned on explaining to Wylie at some point, but now Fritjof was glad he hadn’t. This just might be what Wylie needed to figure out his magic without anyone having to get hurt. Bjorn and Eirik would protect Tess if Wylie’s ability got out of control, and they couldn’t be hurt.

  Well, they couldn’t die. That was good enough for Fritjof.

  “Deal,” he told Tess not caring if Bjorn and Eirik were okay with it or not.

  CHAPTER 10

  “Look, guys, seriously, stop. It’s not helping.” Frustrated didn’t begin to describe what Wylie was feeling at the moment. He was ready to pull out his hair, which was a sacrilege as far as he was concerned. His hair was perfectly gelled and hair sprayed. No way was he going to ruin it by laying a finger on the strands, much less pull them out.

  A shiver went through him at the thought of going bald because his friends refused to accept that they sucked big time trying to help.

  “Fine,” Kegan pouted. “But don’t forget it was you who asked us.”

  A mistake he didn’t plan on making again.

  The front door opened. Fritjof. Great. Now he’d get to see Wylie fail. Again. He’d hoped when he went inside a little while ago, he would stay there. Apparently, Wylie still wasn’t going to catch a break.

  “Making any progress?” Fritjof said as he walked down the massive steps to the equally enormous house.

  Not that it could really be called a house. He’d seen five star hotels that were smaller. When Fritjof had told him they were going to a cabin in the woods of Colorado, Wylie had thought it would something small and cozy. Boy, had he been wrong.

  Then again, he was learning, even though it had only been two days, that nothing the Viking men did was anything but all the way. Sort of a ‘go big or go home’ mentality.

  Wylie tried not to take it personally when Fritjof stopped pretty much as far from him as possible. He stood next to Ryley and Kegan, as if he needed protection from Wylie. Okay, so it was hard not to take that personally.

  “Hey, I didn’t know Tess was out here with you guys,” Fritjof said as he pointed to a spot behind Wylie.

  Turning, Wylie was more than a little shocked to see his niece out there all by herself, just wandering around fairly close to the west side of the large valley, near the mountain side that allowed them access to the house by car. Actually, access was a loose term for the rutted dirt path that Wylie swore his insides were being shaken loose on as Fritjof drove them down into the valley.

  “Tess,” he yelled. “Come closer, sweetheart.”

  Wylie might have wanted her to be the kid she deserved to be, but he didn’t like her being quite so far from safety either. He doubted anyone would come and see her, since the place was so secluded, but that didn’t mean there weren’t wild animals around.

  Then, just like out of some weird nightmare, two giant bears charged out of the woods, straight for her. “Tess,” he shouted.

  “That’s just…” Whatever Kegan was going to say was cut off, but Wylie didn’t look back to see why. He was too busy running for his niece in some bizarre hope he could reach her in time to save her.

  But there was no way. Wylie was too far and the bears too close. He was going to break his promise to Mairi, something that was completely unacceptable to him. He’d sworn, on her death bed, that he would keep her safe.

  Energy surged up from the ground, swirling wildly within him. Shaking it off, he put more speed on, fighting against his lungs’ need for air to push himself beyond what
he ever imagined possible.

  Tess, seeing him running for her, turned around and screamed. The sound dug deep into his soul as power pushed its way past any doubts, reservations, or downright fear he had, exploding out of him in a burst that dropped him to his knees.

  “No,” he screamed as he hit the ground, unable to keep going.

  His eyes landed on Tess, who stared right back at him, the violet, pink, and blue practically glowing as if begging him to save her. Then, suddenly, she wasn’t there.

  Sure the bears must have gotten to her, Wylie stumbled back to his feet determined to find a way to save her. He’d taken at least a dozen steps when he heard a sound he hadn’t expected. Giggling.

  But no matter how many times he blinked she wasn’t there. The grassy spot empty. That couldn’t be possible could it? Was he imagining her voice? But it was still there, giggling hysterically, even calling out his na…

  Wait. Refusing to stop his mad dash toward where he’d last seen her, Wylie did look up.

  The next thing he knew, he had a mouthful of grass and dirt as he tumbled into the ground with a thud hard enough to jolt his entire body, setting it on fire with pain. But none of that mattered as he rolled to make sure he wasn’t losing his damn mind.

  Yep. He was. Had to be. There just wasn’t any other explanation. For there, in the air, was Tess, with her arms out like she was flying, before tucking her head and doing a flip. Then those eyes that he loved more than he ever imagined, stared down at him.

  “You did it, Uncle Wylie. You found your magic.” Another giggle echoed around him as she slowly drifted down to him.

  He lifted his arms and pulled her to him, holding her as tight as possible against him. “Thank God,” he whispered. “Please tell me they didn’t hurt you.”

  Even as he said the words his hands were roaming over her body, praying he wouldn’t find even a scratch on her thin frame. There was no obvious holes or wetness that would indicate she was bleeding.