The Gathering

by Fiore, L. A.

  Aine apparently could read minds too because she pulled me along. My focus stayed on Bain; his stayed on me. Right before I was yanked inside, he winked.

  “I’m going to combust.”

  “Not inside.”

  She was teasing or not.

  “You two need to come with a heat index,” she said as she closed the door to her room. “Seriously, when you two finally have sex, all of New Orleans is at risk of going up in flames.”

  “Cute.”

  “I’m not kidding. The sexual tension just hangs in the air.”

  “Really? How can you tell with him? He’s so stoic.”

  “Are you kidding? He hasn’t taken his eyes off you. The strong, silent type.” She dropped backwards on her bed. “Be still my heart.”

  “You’re goofy.”

  She laughed then rolled off the bed. “We need to get dressed.”

  “I have nothing to wear.”

  “I’ve got you covered.”

  “No leather.”

  She sighed. “That’s half of my wardrobe, but we’ll figure it out.”

  The black skirt and white lace tank top were really cute. Aine tried to get me to wear thigh-high boots. I laughed until I was purple. She gave me a pair of black sneakers instead. She wanted to do something with my hair, but I pulled it into a knot because it was hot, even with it being night. Aine was in leather, a skirt and a bustier. She was wearing the thigh high boots. She looked amazing. I’d never pull that look off.

  I thought it was just Aine and I going, but when we entered the kitchen, Bain, Brock and three others, who I’d learned were Eldris, Tate and Dante, were waiting. Bain’s eyes hit me as soon as I entered. I felt the slow perusal he did, down my body and up again. He said nothing, but his eyes, when they reached my face, had darkened to the color of charcoal.

  Outside, Bain handed me a helmet then climbed on his bike. I had never ridden on a motorcycle, and lucky me that my first time was with this man. My thighs cradled his, and I wasn’t shy about wrapping my arms around his waist, linking my fingers over his abs that I wanted to explore first with my fingers and then my tongue.

  He pulled down the drive, the air hitting my face, this man pressed against me. It was as close to heaven as I’d ever get. We reached town and easily found parking, only because we were on bikes. The streets were packed, bodies pressed up against each other. People were drinking and smoking. Tourists mingled with the homeless. Scents of food and urine combined. It was semi-organized madness.

  Aine led us to a bar that had people spilling out into the sidewalk, but when the bartender saw her, he waved her over.

  “Hey, Frankie,” Aine said as she leaned over the bar for a kiss.

  “Hey, you. Good to see you. Your table is open.”

  “Thanks, babe. Can you send a round?”

  “You got it.”

  Aine reached for my hand as she moved through the bodies. “Who was that?”

  “A friend. I’ve known Frankie for a long time.”

  “Like you?” I was asking if he was a demon.

  She knew when she said, “Yeah.”

  The table was in a corner and surprisingly quiet given how packed the place was. We no sooner sat down when the beers were delivered. When we were alone, Aine said, “To Ivy’s first Mardi Gras.”

  “Hell yeah,” Brock said and knocked his bottle with mine.

  I looked around the table to the others who were lifting their bottles in celebration, and even though I felt guilty that we weren’t focusing on what was coming, another part of me acknowledged that we were experiencing what it was we were trying to protect. What the hell was wrong with that?

  I didn’t know if it was discussed prior, but we didn’t talk about what had brought us together, we didn’t talk about the mystical at all. We were just a bunch of friends celebrating Mardi Gras.

  I’d lost track of how much beer I’d had, but at one point Aine grabbed my hand and screamed, “Panic at the Disco!” I had no idea what she was talking about until she started dancing, right there in the bar. I couldn’t say if it was the alcohol, the company or the music, but I found myself moving to the beat. Dancing was fun. Others joined us; we made a dance floor where there hadn’t been one. By the fourth song, we were all best friends.

  The men did not join us, but I was sure it was due to their presence that the other men who were getting touchy feely stayed away from us.

  Countless songs and beers later, we headed back outside. It was hot as hell, but there was a breeze. Aine was still dancing, this time in the streets. “We should take you around the city tomorrow. Do some sightseeing.”

  I was looking up at the stars. They were bright, and thanks to the alcohol, they were moving, almost spinning. “At some point we have to talk about what brought us here.”

  “There’s time for that,” Aine said. “You need to live a little. You’ve waited long enough.”

  She made a good point.

  “Is there a part of the city you want to see?”

  “Yeah, the Garden District.” I got a head rush when I sought Bain. He was right next to me, his hand on my back kept me steady. “Will you come?” I asked him.

  “Yes,” he answered without hesitation.

  I was drunk, but I didn’t care. I reached for his hand. My stomach quivered when he linked our fingers. I totally understood the appeal of Mardi Gras.

  I wanted to die. I lay in my bed; the room was spinning. I had lied to the others, telling them I was okay when we returned home earlier. I wasn’t okay…the downside of drinking. I’d managed to get ready for bed, but my stomach was undecided about emptying its contents.

  The door to my room opened, and Bain entered. I was happy to say I wasn’t so sick that I didn’t admire the man in my room. He was holding a glass with a puke green liquid in it.

  “What’s that?”

  “It will make you feel better.”

  “No. I drink that and I’m going to hurl.”

  “With hope,” he said.

  Horrified at the idea of throwing up in front of him, I held my hand up to ward him off. “I’m not drinking it.”

  It didn’t stop him from holding the glass under my nose; my stomach lurched. “Definitely not drinking that. What the hell is in it?”

  “You don’t want to know.” He sat on the edge of my bed. “Trust me.”

  “I do,” I said. “I don’t know you, not anymore, but I trust you.” My hand curled around the glass. “I’m going to be sick, aren’t I?”

  “Yes.”

  “I had fun.”

  “Good, then it was worth it.”

  The smell was disgusting. “This is awful.” But I took my medicine because I had earned it. It tasted worse than it smelled.

  “Drink all of it, Ivy.”

  I did, but it didn’t stay down long. I jumped up and ran to the bathroom. I threw the lid open, but before I could grab my hair, Bain was there, holding it from my face. Mortifying. I threw up everything, including my stomach. Not really, but it felt like it. Bain waited, offered me a towel to wipe my face, stepped out of the room when I brushed my teeth. He stood by the balcony looking outside. I climbed in bed and tried not to move. If I didn’t move, I felt okay.

  My mouth was still working and since we’d shared something as intimate as me hacking up a lung, I asked, “Do you remember us?”

  He turned from the window, his hands moved into the pockets of his jeans. “I know you, even not remembering.” He was silent for a second before he continued, “Why do you suppose we don’t remember?”

  I thought only I had the memory problems courtesy of Dr. Ellis and his love of narcotics, but Bain was right. No one else seemed to remember, even though there were indications that they should. “I don’t know.”

  He walked to the bed and held out his hand. “You need to go outside.”

  “I feel okay if I don’t move.”

  “Ivy, you draw power from the outdoors. You need to go outside.”

&
nbsp; I was about to object, but stopped. “I do?” I hadn’t made the connection, but I did feel stronger when I was outside. “How did you know that?”

  It was a grin, so slight that if you weren’t looking, you would have missed it. “I’m a hunter, being in tune to our surroundings is what keeps us alive.”

  “Do you know what I am?” I asked.

  “Part human, but I don’t know what else.”

  I stared at his hand, feared taking it would lead me right back to the bathroom. I really was okay if I didn’t move, but how could I not take it. What an invitation. Just a hand, but it was so much more than that. Despite whatever had happened to change us, we were here again.

  I was thinking all of that, but what I said was, “I apologize now if I throw up on you.”

  “I’ll live.”

  As soon as we stepped outside, I inhaled the scents of the earth and water and felt better.

  “You’re not as green,” Bain teased.

  “You were right. I feel better.”

  I didn’t know why Tristan popped into my head at that moment, but I hadn’t seen or heard from him since we left Misty Vale. I hoped he was okay. Had he left? Crossed over? I hoped not. I had started to really like that ghost.

  Bain kept pace at my side. He didn’t say much, but I had the sense there was a lot going on under the surface. I didn’t need to read him to feel the power he wore like a second skin or the sense that Bain was always waiting to be unleashed.

  We walked together along the bank of the bayou. The night was silent, not even the chirp of crickets could be heard. The moon wasn’t full, but its light guided us.

  Bain broke the silence when he asked, “You said that place was your home; yet, you have no memory of it.”

  “Just impressions, really. Dreams that I believe now are memories.” I glanced up at him. “Why do you ask?”

  “I have impressions too. Knew what I would see before I saw it.” His attention turned to me. “We were summoned here. Felt that same power the day we fought at Misty Vale.”

  “Summoned by me?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Why was only your crew summoned?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Aine was sent by someone. It could be argued the sheriff was summoned, though sooner than you, but that guy tonight, the one working the bar, Aine’s friend. He’s a demon. Why didn’t he come? Even Esther and Cyril, both witches didn’t feel me.”

  He hadn’t thought of that, but he was now. “I don’t know.”

  “It’s significant, but my head isn’t up for thought tonight.” The words were out before I could stop them, not that I would have. “Will you explore the city with us tomorrow?”

  He glanced down at me, those gray eyes hiding so much. “Of course.”

  “Thank you for stepping in at Misty Vale, for getting me out.”

  “I’m beginning to believe it is why we were summoned. To keep you protected.”

  I physically felt those words, and though I knew he spoke of his crew, it was only him I thought about.

  I hadn’t realized Bain had walked us in a circle, the house appearing before us. “How are you feeling?” he asked when we reached my room.

  “Surprisingly better than I should.”

  “Something to think about. Whatever you are, you have a link to the earth.”

  “Do all supernatural beings?”

  “To an extent, but I’ve not seen a connection like the one you have.”

  “Another piece of the puzzle.” I reached for the door, but glanced back. “Thank you for the cure and the company.”

  His words were so softly spoken, but they stirred a memory from once upon a time. “Sweet dreams, Ivy.”

  20

  Bain

  It will grow.”

  “It’s a stick. We’re planting a stick.”

  Her eyes sparkled in laughter; the sight hit me right in the chest.

  “It is not a stick. It is an oak, and it will be magnificent.” She looked around us, her focus shifting to the stone house sitting at the bottom of the hill. Her eyes turned sad, brightened. “It will always be here. A reminder.”

  A breeze blew her hair into her face; she brushed it away leaving a trail of dirt. I rubbed it off with my thumb. “A reminder of what?”

  She turned her gaze on me; a small smile touched her lips. “You.”

  I jerked awake; my chest ached. Feeling restless, I pulled on some sweats and sneakers and went for a run. I wanted to shift, needed the freedom, but people wouldn’t understand.

  On some level, I remembered her and not just memories. I was drawn to her, believed deep down I always had been. My kind mated for life; I’d never found anyone, not in my very long life, and I knew I hadn’t because none of them were her. It wasn’t just lust and desire, though that was there in spades, it was like coming home, so why couldn’t I remember her?

  Her comment about why other mystics hadn’t answered the call was a good one. Why hadn’t they? New Orleans was an epicenter of supernatural beings, and yet, they stayed in the woodwork.

  The trees cleared revealing the old stone house. I stopped to study it. It would have been beautiful once upon a time. Déjà vu moved through me as I strolled around the property. Images filled my head of a time gone by, memories of what once had been. The inside was dilapidated, but the beauty of the past still showed through the neglect. I walked to the room where we had fought, had pushed back evil, where Ivy had remembered her home. Pictures covered the walls. Something shifted inside me when I stepped in front of them. Ivy’s laughing face stared back in one picture. Another we were playing in the fountain. The years were captured in moments, and as the years passed, I grew older, but Ivy remained exactly the same. I walked outside and up the gentle slope. My eyes burned, and my chest was on fire. I understood now why she mourned. Very little was left of the stone, but I knew it belonged to me. Our stick had grown into a majestic tree. What happened to it? And how was it possible that this place existed, the photographs existed in a time that had to have been long, long before now? How did I come back? And what happened to Ivy? She was human now, at least in part.

  I was halfway back to the place we were staying when I felt her. The sun streamed through the foliage, the rays touching her black hair highlighting it blue. She walked through the trees, but stopped every few feet to touch a leaf, a branch. The fox strolled at her side; the crows were never far. I sensed Brock, but he kept his distance. She was growing stronger every day; you could feel the power coming from her. Like last night, the earth recharged her. What was she? And how was she connected to what was coming?

  A winged creature landed on her finger, before flying off. Its wings looked translucent in the sunlight.

  There was sadness in her. Not on the surface, not visible to those looking, but it wrapped around her. Distracted, she caught me unaware when she turned, those purple eyes finding mine before they glanced down.

  Desire, sharp and potent slammed into me. The beast wanted out.

  Her gaze lifted, pink colored her cheeks, but a smile lit her face. “Good morning.”

  “Morning.”

  “Did you have a good run?”

  “I was at the house.”

  Her smile faded. “It’s sad what has become of it.”

  “It was my home too.”

  She inhaled. “You saw the pictures.” Her eyes brightened. “A simpler version of us I think.”

  “I was mortal.”

  “Yes.”

  “You weren’t.”

  “No. I had lived a long time before I met you and I lived a long time after I met you, but that lifetime with you, that brief, beautiful lifetime was the highlight of my very, very long life.”

  “What happened to you?”

  She didn’t know. I could see the struggle she had trying to remember. “I don’t know.” A smile touched her lips, like it had in my dream. I felt that hit right in the center of my chest. “What happened to you?” she ask
ed.

  I answered honestly. “I don’t know.”

  “How old are you?”

  I grinned. “Isn’t it impolite to ask someone their age?”

  “Probably, but I wasn’t schooled on manners.”

  Anger flared, but now wasn’t the time. “I lost count.”

  “Roughly?”

  “Roughly five hundred years.” Though I wasn’t sure I hadn’t been born before and not just the lifetime with Ivy. Like her, I had memories of lives I didn’t remember living. How that was possible I didn’t know.

  She drew her lower lip between her teeth in thought. Hunger hit me like a punch, my eyes locked on her mouth. In all of my very long life, I had never felt the kind of attraction I did with her. It was elemental, raw and so fucking provocative. I wanted to suck her lip into my mouth, taste…feast. Our eyes met, she felt it too.

  Her gaze shifted breaking the spell, her words softly spoken. “How did you become a lycanthrope?”

  She wasn’t afraid; most were when they learned what I was. “I don’t remember.”

  “You’re not forced to shift. You can shift when you will it?”

  “Yes.”

  “How many of you are there?”

  “My crew, fifty of us. We’re the last of them.”

  Sadness entered her expression. “What happened to the others?”

  “We’ve been fighting for a long time.”

  She twisted her fingers together. She had something on her mind but seemed reluctant to share it.

  “What?” I encouraged.

  “Can’t you…” Color rose on her cheeks. I knew what she was trying to ask. I fucking wanted to do so right the hell now.

  “Mate?” I said.

  I heard her swallow. Fuck I was hard. “Yes.”

  “We have sex, but we can’t have offspring.”

  Now she looked upset. “Why?”

  “Our DNA isn’t compatible with other species, and there are no female lycanthropes.”