by Kelly Meding
“Certainly.” Tennyson stood and put his cloak back on in a swirl of black fabric. He stopped next to Jaxon on his way out the door. “Love her while you’re able, skin-walker, for no one can predict how tonight will end.”
He left Jaxon gaping after him, both eyebrows raised.
“You guys have a plan?” I asked.
“Bare bones, but yeah, we’ve got a plan.” Jaxon shut the door, then took Tennyson’s place beside me on the bed. “He bring back anything useful?”
I told him about Danu’s potential appearance, as well as a bit of the backstory between Danu and Cailleach.
Jaxon groaned when I finished. “Great, that’s all we need. I can see the headline: Small-Town Destroyed in Supernatural Grudge Match.”
“Danu may or may not even come, and Tennyson doesn’t know where Cailleach is right now.”
“Don’t you ever think it’s weird that Tennyson not only knows so many goddesses, but also how to find them?”
“Yeah, I think it’s weird, and believe me, if we survive tonight, I plan on getting that story out of him. You know his sparkly hair? When Danu shifts, her wolf has the same hair. Fur. Whatever.”
“Huh.”
I nudged Jaxon’s shoulder with mine. “You know, there’s something else I’ve been wondering about.”
“Such as?”
“I’ve been told your skin is a deer—”
“Seven-point stag, thank you very much.”
“Fine, a seven-point stag. I’ve been told that.”
“But you’ve never seen it that you remember.”
I nodded, encouraged when Jaxon’s expression went thoughtful, instead of being annoyed by my unasked question. Or sad, as he often got when reminded my only slippery memories of him were about four days old. He stood and moved to the largest open area of the somewhat small room. His lips moved as he spoke words I couldn’t hear, and a sense of magic filled the room. Strong, but displaced, and instead of shifting like a werewolf, the air around Jaxon shimmered, and then flashed gold. I blinked his new shape into focus.
And even with one set of antlers half-regrown, he was stunning.
I stood, and at five-eight, I’m fairly average-to-tall for a woman, and his shoulder was the same height as mine. The size of a small horse, with shiny brown fur, and those gorgeous antlers. The side that hadn’t been torn off during the vampire fight stood up from his majestic head a good two feet, and the side still healing was already eight inches or so high. He was a tad unbalanced, but didn’t seem to notice.
He watched me with too-human eyes as I gently rubbed his flanks, then down his forehead. He nuzzled my palm with his nose, and I smiled. Rested my own forehead against his and existed in the simple beauty of his skin form.
“I’m so sorry you were hurt because of me.”
He made a noise of protest, then stamped one hoof.
“Yeah, well, I feel responsible. I dragged our team into Tennyson’s mess, and you got hurt. You could have died.”
The sound he made in his throat sounded a lot like, “So could you.”
“Thank you for showing me, Jaxon. Truly.”
I stepped back, and the air shimmered again as he changed from skin to man in a burst of magic.
“You know, you rode me once,” he said.
“Oh yeah?” I waggled my eyebrows, because I’d ridden him just last night, and thank Iblis I had that wonderful memory of him to take with me.
He snorted laughter. “No, I mean my skin. It was during a job you and I were assigned to. You were stabbed in the leg by a fairy blade, so you couldn’t walk. The only way for us to get away was you riding my stag.”
“Wow. I’ve never even ridden a horse, but I rode a gorgeous stag and forgot it.”
Jaxon tapped the side of his head, so I pushed into his thoughts—which was becoming easier and easier with him. I saw myself limping, clutching a bleeding calf. Him looking back at his own flank while I climbed aboard. Tearing through the woods astride him.
“This mental picture-share thing is pretty handy,” I said.
“I want you to have all the memories you can of us. Even when we weren’t a couple, we were a great team.”
“I know.” I touched my chest directly over my heart. “In here.”
With hours yet until sunset, and my own fate currently out of my hands, Jaxon and I curled up together on one of the beds, and I watched the interconnected parts of our life play out in his mind. Each new memory of his replaced what had been taken from me, and I memorized each one as best as I could.
Because if Damian won, I needed all the happy memories I could get to take with me into a life of torment as his slave.
According to the weather app on my phone, sunset was officially at 7:10 p.m., so around six my nerves got the best of me, and I ended up pacing the long porch that connected all eight of the motel’s rooms. I couldn’t sit still—not only because of what Damian wanted from me, but also because I didn’t have the first fucking clue what my team was planning.
And being the team leader on the outside of things? It sucked ass in a big way.
But I also trusted my people to do their best and make a plan that got every innocent life out of DM Clinic safely and with the least amount of drama.
Then again, if Danu and Cailleach showed up, drama was going to reach epic levels. It made me glad most of the other pantheons stayed out of earth business and let us be, but some of the Western European and a few African deities still liked it here, especially with Paras exposed to the masses, so to speak.
And if government agencies around the world—Paras were all over the globe, not just in the States—continued to look for ways to control or destroy Paras completely, some of those deities might decide to come out of retirement and fight back. The last thing this world needed was a multi-plane battle between not only rival deities, but also Paras versus humans.
We had to find a way to keep the peace, starting with destroying this clinic and its nightmarish research in less than an hour . . .
By six thirty, my stomach was rumbling for food, but I was scared anything I tried to eat I’d just barf back up.
I hate barfing.
Chandra tried reassuring me that they had my back and their plan would get the werewolves out safely, but it didn’t help. Novak tried, too, and I just ended up hugging him, because I didn’t know what else to say—until we understood the extent of Damian’s power, they could not guarantee I would stay free of his control, let alone save the werewolves.
Kathleen disappeared and reappeared in the motel several times, and she always gave me a steady nod of support, which I appreciated. But the slow setting of the sun on the distant horizon felt like the light going down on my freedom. A few minutes before seven, I dragged Jaxon into the bathroom and hugged him tight. I memorized the firm shape of his body, his unique scent, and sound of his breathing.
“I won’t let him take you,” Jaxon whispered. “You have my solemn vow.”
“You can’t make that promise, but thank you.”
“I love you, Shiloh.”
The words were both new and familiar, and I felt the truth of them in my very core. Maybe my mind had been altered, but my soul had not, and I knew deep down in the part of me that instinctively trusted Jaxon that I loved him back. Probably had for a long time. “Me too,” I whispered.
We shared one last kiss before parting. It was time.
Chandra and Tennyson were gone, but Kathleen and Novak were waiting for us with earbuds for everyone. We did a quick sound check and could all hear each other. With a deep, steadying breath, we began walking down the main street toward DM Clinic. Damian hadn’t said to come alone, or no weapons, so we all had our service weapons, and Novak had a small arsenal of blades hidden under his coat.
The sight of the brick building with its glowing protection symbol made my insides quiver, but I kept my head high and my spine straight. I could do this. Not show my terror as I faced my greatest fear—imprisonment. More
than physical imprisonment, which all djinn fear, it was the imprisonment of my magic that scared me the most. I knew how my abilities could be abused. And unlike full-blood djinn, my human side allows me to feel compassion and regret for all those hurt by the wishes I had no choice but to grant. My future was one of punishment on top of torture.
I was glad I hadn’t eaten.
The dark glass door of the clinic drew near. My friends followed me in flanking positions, and we probably got odd looks from any townsfolk watching from the diner or their front porches, but I didn’t care. I had one goal right now, and that was to save Mom and Gideon from Damian.
Everything else was details.
I opened the door and strode inside, exuding more confidence than I actually felt, buoyed by the support of my companions. On the other side of the lobby, just past where a regular person would see a wall, stood three familiar faces and one perfect stranger. Hiller stood with Mom and Gideon both kneeling in front of him. They were both gagged and wore silver collars, and Hiller blatantly had a control box of some kind in his hands. Mom stared straight ahead, her shoulders back, and instead of fear, her entire expression was one of undisguised fury. Her left hand was splinted and bandaged, and that tweaked my temper.
Next to her, Gideon looked out of it, as if he’d been drugged in addition to collared. They both appeared otherwise unharmed, so I stopped walking with about ten feet between us and studied the man who had to be Damian.
Damian was handsome, I had to give him that, with a face any movie star would envy. Dark, almost-black hair and dark eyes. His age was difficult to guess, but I’d ballpark it at late twenties to early thirties. He wore simple slacks and a white button-up shirt. But for all his average man exterior, power engulfed him in a pale blue aura that seemed . . . familiar. Similar to the aura of Cailleach’s power that protected this place, but . . . that was impossible.
Unless he was from the line of those dark magic users Cailleach first created to defeat Danu’s werewolves.
And the longer I stared at him, the more I got the sense that we’d met.
Or maybe he looked like someone I’d once met.
“Shiloh Harrison,” Damian said in that same deeply powerful voice. “It’s an honor to finally meet you.”
“Can’t say the pleasure is all mine,” I replied. “I get a little pissy when people kidnap my mother, so can we skip the pleasantries. Who are you?”
“You know who I am, just as the dhampir behind you knows who I am. She’s been hunting me for a long time, haven’t you, pet?”
Kathleen growled.
“The infamous Para-Marshals,” Damian continued. “Or what’s left of them, I suppose. I have to admit, I was hoping you’d bring along Master Tennyson. He is quite the unique vampire, isn’t he?”
Someone behind me must have shifted position, because Hiller held up that box. “Stay put until you’re told to move,” he said. “Those collars have built-in lasers, and with one push of this button, the lasers will behead them both.”
Shit.
“What did you do to Gideon?” I asked.
“He wasn’t cooperating, so I injected him with a minute amount of silver nitrate. Just enough to make him ill and docile, but it won’t kill him.”
Not only had I gotten one of the California Pack wolves kidnapped, now he was mildly poisoned. Great. Alpha Kennedy was going to skin me alive.
If we won, that is. Something to look forward to.
“What do you want with me?” I asked Damian.
“Don’t be coy, Shiloh,” he replied with a smirk I really wanted to punch off his face. “You know why I want you.”
“What good are three wishes to you? You’re already powerful, I can tell from here.” He’d get a lot more than just three wishes if I bound myself to him, but I needed to hear the bastard say it. Confirm my worst fear was his goal so everyone heard him.
“My dear, I have more use of you than three wishes. Once your will is bound to mine, I will have full control of your abilities. You will exist to serve me.”
Mom made a distressed noise, but I avoided looking at her. She didn’t want me to do this; she didn’t have to say it for me to know. But I had to play along for as long as possible, so Chandra and Tennyson could do their thing. Hatch their plan.
Save the day.
“How is such a binding possible?” I asked. “The Rules of Wishing are clear, and I am bound to them, not the wisher.”
“Because I’m not binding you through the rules, my dear. We share another unique bond that will allow me, not you, to control your magic. You will merely be a vessel.”
Next to me, Jaxon flexed both hands into fists.
“What sort of bond do we share? I’ve never met you before today.”
“We share a bond of blood.” Damian grinned, and in it I saw no mirth. Only sinister intent, and it made my blood curdle. “You see, child, I am your grandfather.”
Chapter 18
I laughed out loud.
My grandfather? This was supposedly a super-criminal mastermind, and he was going with that lame line? But one look at my mother’s grave expression and my laughter dried up.
“My grandparents are all dead,” I said. “My djinn grandparents died hundreds of years ago, and my mother’s parents were murdered when she was a small child. I have no living grandfather.”
“Except you do, child,” Damian replied, that annoying smirk deepening. “I am your mother’s father. Give yourself a moment to feel our connection through her magic. It’s there, I assure you.”
I didn’t want to feel our connection, thank you very much. I didn’t want there to be a connection at all. “My mother’s father was killed by vengeful witches, daughters of Cailleach. You can’t be him.”
“They intended to murder me, yes, because I would not accept their bargain. You see, they feared me because of who I truly am, and so they sought to bring me under their thumb. But I saw through their plan, and while my wife was sadly sacrificed that night, I did what I did so that your mother could live. But I had no idea she would one day bring me a gift such as you.”
I looked at Mom again, but she wouldn’t meet my gaze, which turned my insides to jelly. Was Damian telling the truth? Was he truly her father? How the fuck did he look younger than her?
“I admit,” Damian continued, “your mother did an excellent job hiding you from me. The magic you inherited from me was dwarfed by what you inherited from your sire, so I never knew you existed until six years ago. When a human woman unleashed a djinn power in the mountains of Colorado, I had to investigate. And that’s when I felt you. My granddaughter. Elspeth’s only offspring.”
The traveling freak show. Rescuing my dad and Jaxon.
The first time I’d truly used my djinn powers to help other Paras had damned me to this moment.
“You didn’t know he survived, did you, Mom?” I asked.
She shook her head and looked up, both cheeks streaked with tears.
Even though she was gagged and couldn’t speak, I had to reassure her. “This isn’t your fault.” To Damian, who had snorted at that, I asked stonily, “How are you still alive? If I’m going to become your magical slave, I deserve that answer.” I couldn’t be sure, but the sun had to have set by now. We’d been talking for several minutes already, so the plan had to be in motion—or almost there.
“Simple,” he replied. “The witches came in numbers, but I had the power, for my line is older than theirs. More ancient.”
“More evil?”
He raised one eyebrow. “Evil is in the eye of the beholder, granddaughter. Those witches sought to kill me and take my power, so I, in turn, killed them and took theirs.”
I blinked hard. “That’s how you have the protection of Cailleach. But how is that possible? You’re a man, and her children are all . . . .” Tennyson’s story screamed back into the forefront of my thoughts. “Your line was one of her first. One of the men Cailleach gave power to in order to defeat Danu’s Ossory
wolves.”
Damian smiled at me in such a condescending way I wanted to vomit. “I am of that line, yes. Cailleach’s original warlocks. We have survived these millennia by keeping to ourselves, but the witches found me. They recognized the origin of my power and were naive enough to believe that their numbers could beat my experience. I’m far older than I look.”
“And Cailleach didn’t mind you murdering her daughters? She created them because the men she gifted magic to failed her.”
“She was unhappy at first, until she realized the depth of my ability to move around in the human world. To influence the powerful from behind the scenes, and to . . . shall we say, push the correct pawns across the chessboard into the desired outcomes. She is bored with the world of men, but she has never lost her desire to see the Ossory wolves and all of their offspring eradicated from the world. That desire gave me her protection here.”
“You’re researching a way to slaughter all living werewolves?”
“Slaughter. Control,” he said with a shrug. “Either way. I have a government contractor who is keen on a means to effectively fight back against a werewolf uprising.”
“The US Marshals’ Office?”
His eyebrows jumped. “They contacted me five years ago, because they’d heard of my particular set of talents. They don’t trust the Packs or the vampire Lines to police themselves, and while your Para-Marshals can handle a rowdy gremlin fight, you are ill-equipped to manage a true battle should those creatures choose not to play nice with humans any longer.”
“But the Marshals’s Office isn’t the only agency you’re working for, is it?”
“Your interrogation is amusing, child, but it’s growing tedious. I believe I’ve answered enough questions for the moment. We have a bargain to see to.”
“First, I need your word that my friends here, including Gideon and my mother, will be allowed to leave peacefully and without interference from you or local law enforcement. You will not hurt them, and you will not hunt them.”
“You’re hardly in a position to bargain or make demands.” Damian tilted his head. “But I admire your spirit, so let us bargain. I have no interest in your mother or your friends, as long as they cease interfering in my work. If we cross paths again, I promise nothing.”
