Shadow's Dream

by Jami Gray

  Ceding to her demand, he spilled. “When you asked Raine to help repair the damage from the Stealer, you didn’t give her a chance to tell you that she couldn’t repair what wasn’t there.”

  “What do you mean, what wasn’t there?”

  “The Stealer fed off of magical life force. As much as I fought, I was losing the battle. The bastard managed to eat through my magic, and there wasn’t much left.” She shuddered against him, horror apparent on her face and he tightened his arms in comfort. “Raine kept trying to fix the wounds, but with nothing to anchor against, those repairs wouldn’t hold.”

  “Right, because of your damn connection. It’s why I let her in the circle. She had to act as the siphon for the healing magic. And it worked. I felt it.”

  “Because that’s what Raine and Gavin wanted you to feel. Gavin is a master of illusions and he has no problems doing what needs to be done to protect the woman he considers his.” Cheveyo rubbed his cheek over the top of her head. “You did something to Raine, something she still won’t talk about.”

  The hand against his chest fisted and she stiffened. Despite recognizing the signs of her discomfort, he waited. Finally, she admitted in a low voice, “I laid a geas on her, forcing her to keep a promise.”

  “What promise?” He was genuinely curious.

  “To kill the Stealer and get your magic back,” came the reluctant answer.

  Something wasn’t adding up. “Wasn’t that what they were planning on doing in the first place?”

  Tala nodded.

  A geas was a compulsion, one that couldn’t be broken without serious repercussions. Considering Raine’s scalded cat routine any time Tala’s name came up, he got a very bad feeling. “What did you tie the geas to?”

  She blew out a hard breath, her shoulders straightened, and her voice was empty. “Her life for your magic and the Stealer’s death.”

  The final pieces of the puzzle of the two women’s cantankerous relationship fell into place. Taking hold of her upper arms, he leaned back and forced her away from his chest until they could face each other. “Oh, awéé, what in the world possessed you to make such a dangerous move?”

  Tala lifted her chin but shrugged uncomfortably. “I could tell you I didn’t think she would follow through.”

  Hearing the unspoken ‘but’ in her answer, he waited.

  “But the truth was, I lost my temper. You were dying. Nothing I did helped and, from what I could see, she was taking her sweet-ass time fixing things.”

  Stubborn and protective made for a volatile mix, and Tala, like Raine, had the power to make their impatience a deadly thing.

  Tala’s brow furrowed and her eyes sparked with temper. “It was a simple geas, Cheveyo, and she acted like I set a death spell on her.”

  “Not her,” he murmured. “Gavin.” He watched comprehension slip in and replace Tala’s irritation. “Those two are connected tighter than Tomás and Lizbeth ever were. And, honey, I hate to break it to you, but he is the one person you don’t want to threaten if you want her help.”

  “Well, shit,” she muttered, her remorse clear. “Dammit.”

  “What?”

  She sighed. “Now, I’m going to have to apologize to her.”

  Her obvious chagrin surprised a laugh out of him, and he hugged her close. “Yeah, I think we can hold off on that momentous occasion.”

  For a minute they held each other. Finally, she spoke up. “If Raine and Gavin were able to fool me into thinking you were healing, then what was really going on?”

  He stroked her spine. “She rewove my magic into something different then anchored it to her and Gavin until I could maintain it on my own.”

  “Different how?”

  It was his turn to shrug. “My abilities are not the same as they were. They’re stronger, less predictable, and some carry unique characteristics.” Trying to describe the changes was difficult because each Kyn’s magic was very personal.

  Tala’s eyes widened with understandable shock. “She changed your magic?”

  He dipped his chin in acknowledgement.

  The ramifications of his answer hit her with stunning force leaving her face white. “Oh, my gods,” she breathed.

  “Now you understand why the Northwest can’t afford to kowtow to the Council.” His voice was quiet.

  She swallowed and nodded slowly. “If they find out what she can do, the Council won’t be happy until she’s dead.”

  “And it’s not just that. It’s the fact that with every new generation of Kyn, new abilities appear. Abilities that the Council can’t control.”

  “And what they can’t control, they destroy,” she added. “You’re talking about the evolution of magic.”

  “Exactly.” He studied her face. “It’s not just a question of coming out to the humans, it’s also about saving our future generations, from them and our own.”

  She worried her lower lip. “Mulcahy, he saw all of this, didn’t he? It’s why he came to America in the first place.” She didn’t wait for his answer. “Of course, he did, and it’s also why the Council is so gung-ho about stringing up the Northwest. They’re not the biggest fans of competition.”

  “Not competition—choice,” he corrected. “So long as the Northwest exists, there is a refuge for those looking to escape the Council’s persecution. Unfortunately, our numbers have visibly increased in the last century. Enough to worry the Council.”

  “Makes sense.” She paused. “Why didn’t you just tell Toby or Rio about this?”

  He winced. “I think it’s best to leave that job up to Warrick and Natasha.” Even though he was fairly certain Rio was well aware of what was going on.

  As if following his thoughts, her gaze narrowed. “You know if you told Rio, he would be all over it just for the chaos it would bring.”

  “Maybe,” he agreed. “But unless Natasha feels it’s worth the risk, I think I’ll refrain and just stick to the whole, we-need-to-show-ourselves-before-we’re-forced-to argument.”

  “That’s no fun,” she groused.

  He snorted. “Since when are Kyn politics ever fun?”

  That earned him a wry grin. “Okay, I’ll give you that.”

  A knock sounded at the front door. Ash scrambled out from under the table and raced out of the kitchen with a low woof. In Cheveyo’s lap, Tala leaned to the side to see over his shoulder. “Are we expecting someone?”

  “Not that I’m aware of.” He kept his hands on her waist as she scrambled off his lap.

  Once on her feet, she squeezed his hand and he let her go. Another knock sounded. “Whoever they are, they’re impatient.” She headed toward the door.

  Curious, he rose and followed. Tala pulled open the door and when a young voice started in on a spiel about a local food drive, he headed back to the kitchen and began cleaning up their dishes. After a few minutes of murmured conversation, the door closed. Bending over, he set the last plate in the dishwasher and then straightened.

  “You know,” Tala’s husky voice had him turning to see her leaning against the arched entryway. “I think I like you like this.”

  Drying his hands, he re-tucked the hand towel on the stove. “Like what?”

  She sashayed her way to him, her hands brushing down his chest, leaving fire in her wake, before lifting on tiptoe to nip his chin. Her smile was wicked. “All domesticated and barefoot in my kitchen.”

  He caught her hips, dragging her close. The desire in her eyes deepened as he pressed against her, making it clear he liked it too. “We still have time before Chay and Wyatt get back,” he growled. “Want to see how domesticated I can get?” He wrapped an arm under her ass, bent, set his shoulder on her stomach, and straightened before she could blink.

  Draped over his shoulder, hanging upside down with her hair trailing down, she laughed. The joyful sound seeped into his pores, filling the last of the hollow spaces with her light.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  “Whoever spun these, they’re snea
ky as shit.” Sitting on the tile of Tala’s bathroom, Wyatt leaned against the tub. He turned to Chay, perched on the closed lid of the commode. “Don’t know about you, but I’m picking up the same signature as before.”

  Chay’s mouth was a thin line. “Yeah, me too, but…” He trailed off, his brow furrowed.

  Tala, who stood in the doorway, Ash at her side—because with three large men stuffed into the bathroom, space was a bit limited—could feel his magic reach out and encompass the trapped spell.

  “Careful, Chay,” murmured Cheveyo who sat on the edge of the tub next to Wyatt. “See this?” There was a change in the enclosed space’s energy as he adjusted the magic the three men were working with. “I’m thinking we have two castors, not one.”

  Chay’s gaze narrowed. “I think you’re right.”

  Wyatt leaned forward, his gaze unfocused with concentration. “What is that?”

  “That is a buried signature.” Cheveyo’s answer was grim, a muscle jumping along his jaw. “And one I’ve seen before.”

  Unable to stay quiet, Tala piped up from her outside position, “Where?”

  Cheveyo turned his attention to her, and her lungs seized at the depth of fury burning in his obsidian gaze. “On the spell that killed Mulcahy.”

  Her stomach pitched. Before she could process his answer or dig for more, Chay broke in, “Any way around it?”

  Cheveyo refocused. “Yeah, just give me a minute.”

  “Be careful,” Chay warned. “Remember what happened last time.”

  Cheveyo’s only answer was a brief nod, but Tala needed more. Swallowing against her dry throat, she asked, “What happened?”

  Chay looked at Cheveyo. Without breaking his focus, Cheveyo managed, “Don’t look at me. You brought it up, you explain it.”

  Shaking his head, Chay did just that. “The spell that took out Mulcahy also managed to level an entire conference room at Taliesin, pinning our fearless leader here to the floor with rebar.” He met Tala’s stunned gaze. “Or so I was told.”

  Yeah, Chay’s explanation wasn’t helping the knot of worry in her stomach. Taunt silence wrapped around the small space, leaving her white knuckling the doorjamb as Cheveyo continued to untangle the knotted magic. She breathed through her anxiety-fueled-by-ugly-overactive-imagination. Not an easy feat when she could do nothing but watch as he worked with a spell set by a castor with a proven lethal track record.

  Finally, Cheveyo said, “Done.” Relief swept through the room, tension slinking out on its coattails.

  His expression decidedly not happy, Chay sat back and ran a hand through his hair as he looked at Cheveyo. “That signature mean what I think it does?”

  “Probably, but it’s not proof enough to bring before the rest of the Council.” There was nothing comforting about Cheveyo’s answer.

  “What the hell do they need? A signed confession?” Chay grumbled.

  She might not be privy to all the details, but could fill in the blanks with what she did know. If the Northwest thought Leo was behind Mulcahy’s death, then Leo was behind the signature Cheveyo was concerned about. “Pretty much,” Tala offered, not batting an eyelash at Chay’s glare. “It is the Council, after all. If you want them to turn on one of their own, a signed confession, preferably in blood, would be a good start.”

  Wyatt watched the entire exchange closely. “I get the feeling I’m missing something important here.”

  Before anyone could answer, a knock echoed through the house. Ash, ever the dutiful furry butler, rose and headed out of the room, his nails tapping down the hall. Tala sighed and went to follow. Hopefully, it wasn’t another high school student looking for donations for their holiday food drive.

  “Tala, hold up.”

  Cheveyo’s quiet command had her pausing just before she left the bedroom. She looked over her shoulder to find him right behind her. She arched an eyebrow. “It’s the door, Cheveyo. I don’t think someone bent on harm would bother to knock first.”

  Undaunted, he simply put his hand on the small of her back. “There’s always a first time.”

  Okay, maybe someone was a bit more rattled than she thought. Besides, it was a pointless argument and not worth fighting over, so she headed to the door, letting the six-foot-plus witch trail along. Ash sat by the entry, his tail sweeping slowly across the floor, his ears perked. He watched them come closer, and, when Tala reached for the doorknob, he gave a soft woof. She rubbed his head in silent thanks then opened the door.

  Will stood on the other side, his attention unerringly on Ash. He lifted his gaze, his eyes carrying an amber glow. He didn’t bother with a standard greeting. Instead, he said, “Got a call about fifteen minutes ago. Your girl Teagan’s being squirrelly.”

  Opening the door wide, Tala motioned him in. “How so?”

  Will stepped in the entryway, only coming in enough to close the door behind him. He scratched Ash’s ear. “The wolf who’s been watching her place says she talking to herself and pacing in front of the window. Has been for the last couple of hours. Says if he didn’t know better, he’d think she was schizophrenic.”

  Alarm raced through Tala because such erratic behavior was so far from Teagan’s normal state as to be scary. She turned to Cheveyo. “We need to get over there.”

  He didn’t argue, nor did he waste any time in letting Chay and Wyatt know where they were headed and why. By the time Tala grabbed a heavy sweater, pulled on her shoes, and snatched up her car keys, Cheveyo and Chay were waiting by the door. She didn’t bother arguing about who was or was not coming. “Where’s Will?”

  “He’s on his way to update Toby. He only stopped by because he didn’t have your number and was coming back after switching off with another wolf.” Reading her expression correctly he added, “And no, I didn’t ask who he’d been watching.”

  Not a concern right now. She looked at Wyatt who was standing next to Ash. “You do anything Ash doesn’t like, and he’ll be at your throat.”

  Undeterred, Wyatt grinned. “Don’t worry, Tala, we won’t leave bloodstains on your floors.”

  She huffed out a breath and headed out. When she went to go to her truck, Cheveyo caught her hand and pulled her to a stop. “We’ll take the SUV, more room.” She nodded and fell into step. They all piled in and headed to Teagan’s to find out exactly why her normally solid and stable cousin was suddenly conversing with invisible friends.

  Teagan lived a few miles from the local university in a cluster of two story condos that started a previous life as apartments. The boxy complex was set among the trees, providing a false sense of security when the main street was just on the other side. They parked in one of the uncovered spots for visitors.

  Tala was out of the SUV and heading up the curving walkway, leaving Cheveyo and Chay to follow at their own pace. The unrelenting sense of urgency paced her as she strode up to Teagan’s bottom corner unit and knocked. Behind her, Chay murmured something to Cheveyo. She turned her head in time to watch Chay head toward the green area where a lone occupant in a hoodie sat at a picnic table. If the books spread around them were any indication, whoever it was appeared to be in the midst of studying. She looked at Cheveyo. “Our wolf watcher?”

  He shrugged. “Probably, but Chay didn’t want to spook Teagan by tagging her en masse.”

  The sound of a lock releasing brought her attention back to the door. It inched open, and Teagan peered around the edge, her red-rimmed eyes widening. “Tala? Wha—wha—” She frowned and finally managed, “Why are you here?” Her attention went to Cheveyo, and she stepped out from behind the door, barring the opening. “What happened?”

  “Hey, Teagan.” Her cousin’s skittish behavior made Tala appreciate Chay’s assumption. Not wanting to get the door shut in their faces, Tala put a hand against the thick wood to keep it open. “Can we come in?”

  Under the rumpled, short-sleeved T-shirt, the muscles in Teagan’s arm gripping the knob, flexed, then relaxed. “Sure.” With obvious reluctance, she
dragged the door open, staying behind it as she did so.

  Tala and Cheveyo stepped through and stopped just inside.

  The condo was an open floor plan, so the living room and dining room shared a large space that flowed into the small galley kitchen. Off to their right, a patio door let in the morning light, dispersing the typical gloom of a garden level condo. The walls were a light sage, and the crème-colored furniture held pillows of deep forest green. Delicate Tiffany like lamps stood on side tables, while a combination display-slash-bookcase offered homes for a collection of framed photos and books nestled with various other knickknacks, including a stream-lined TV holding the middle position. Despite the modern touches, it was airy and light, like stepping into a comfortable cottage nestled in some long ago forest glade.

  Teagan shut the door and flipped the security lock before wrapping her arms around her stomach and stepping around them. She stopped by the patio doors leading to a covered porch, turned, and waved them to sit. “Make yourself at home.”

  Tala picked up the hand crochet blue afghan and draped it over one overstuff sofa arm, then sat. Based on Teagan’s rumpled attire and the tea mug, mostly empty, on the white rattan coffee table, she decided to go with the most obvious question first. “You okay, Teagan?”

  Teagan watched Cheveyo take up residence in an easy chair near the fireplace and answered absently, “I’m fine.” Then she shook her head hard, frowned, and then with stilted movements, moved to the kitchen.

  Clearly, she wasn’t. “Teagan—”

  “Would either of you like something to drink?”

  The desperate casualness to Teagan’s abrupt question, pulled Tala up short. She met Cheveyo’s considering gaze and raised an eyebrow in silent command. Proving he was no slouch, he didn’t waste time. Deciding it was best to keep Teagan distracted while Cheveyo scanned her condo for anything out of the ordinary, Tala rose to her feet and wandered over to the bar counter dividing the kitchen from the rest of the living spaces. “I’ll take a cup of tea, please.”

  Standing in the kitchen, Teagan stared at her for a long moment before giving a jerky nod. “Chamomile work?”