by Caris Roane
With that, she dissolved the dreamglide. She watched him reach out his hand to her and probably protested with a loud, ‘No’. But she felt the need to disengage. They were connected, yet not well enough. And each of them had to figure this out.
As she returned fully to her couch, she realized again that she hadn’t been unconscious at all. She felt the power of it as well, that she had no problem being fully aware of her surroundings in real-time while she was in the dreamglide. It was an amazing ability to have. Fergus, having been asleep when she drew him into the dream-world, had remained asleep. Otherwise, he too would have been conscious in both places.
Still lying on her back, she stared up at the dark wood beams angled at the apex of the ceiling. A French, bird-cage lighting fixture hung above her.
When she’d become an alter fae woman and had moved to Five Bridges, she’d created her home to be at ease as much as she could. She’d set up a veterinary practice, had kept a low profile, and assisted Officer Brannick of the Crescent Border Patrol in helping abducted women escape Revel Territory. She’d grieved the loss of her sister, but she hadn’t made any real friendships and she hadn’t dated seriously at all.
She’d lived a ghost’s life, a very small life since she’d come here. So small, she hadn’t even been willing to acknowledge to herself in real-time that she’d had an affair with Fergus for several weeks before she rescued him in the Graveyard.
She’d once been told she had enough raw fae potential that she could one day serve on the Revel Board of Sages, the central fae governing institution of her territory. But she hadn’t lifted a finger to acquire a requisite mentor or anything.
Then Roche had abducted her. Fergus and Brannick had helped her escape Roche’s prison and now she was here.
One of her cats leaped up on her stomach. She petted him all the way down his back and up his fluffy tail. He was yellow-striped and had been brought to her by one of her pet owners. He’d somehow found his way into Revel Territory from the human part of Phoenix but had been emaciated to the point of death. She’d brought him back from the dead.
She loved animals.
It seemed somehow fitting that now she loved a wolf.
But how odd to think that she was part wolf herself. She might have left Fergus early this morning, for rational reasons. She’d even planned to pick up her life once more.
Yet even the fae part of her had grown in strength since she’d connected with Fergus. He’d awakened something in her that stimulated every other part of her life, not just her desire to be with him. She loved her sensual connection to the new, partial wolf she’d become. She loved that she’d worked beside him in a true partnership and that she’d served essentially, more than once, as his bodyguard.
When the cat jumped off her lap, she rose to a sitting position then glanced around her family room. Plans began to move through her mind. She’d give up her practice and hand it over to her capable assistant who had already passed her exams. She might even give her house away as well because her instincts told her that she’d soon be leaving Revel, maybe even by nightfall.
She gave full scope to her faeness and directed all her attention to Savage Territory and to Fergus. She faced south and as if a switch had been flipped, she felt the pull of the territory.
She belonged to Savage now. She felt it in her bones.
She’d never once thought something like this would happen to her. But from the time Fergus had entered her life, extraordinary forces had been at work. She’d crossed some mystical threshold into unknown terrain but which felt right, though scary as hell.
She believed now that her fate, no matter which direction her relationship with Fergus took, had become entwined with Savage Territory.
As she focused all her fae energy south, toward Savage, her former sensation of dread began to hum. The territory became fixed in her mind and in her heart, the land of wolves, of packs, of too many shifters crammed into a small human space and bound by barbed wire and searchlights, and of evil men like Sydon.
She closed her eyes. She could feel all the packs of the land, writhing in their constraint.
She felt Sydon’s energy as well, one that fed off so much prevalent discontent. She could feel him like a virus that had already spread thickly through the veins of the territory.
It all came back to Sydon.
And her fae senses told her that the fate of the territory rested on her ability to locate him right now.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
MARY FOCUSED HARD on Sydon. The sense that events would soon move at lightning speed had settled deeply within her. She knew in her bones she couldn’t wait.
The times had come.
She brought a strong past image of Sydon into her mind. She saw him sitting on the floor of the Gordion dungeon cell where he’d been put after Fergus shot him in the leg. She could see him as he’d been in that moment, facing away from the barred cell door, very still as though in a trance.
Holding the image steady, she entered her dreamglide. At the same moment, Sydon’s current location began to take shape.
She could feel him now, in the southern part of the territory, well underground and beneath one of the Savage Strip clubs, a place called the Naked Wolf. The name made her shudder. She was pretty sure this was the same club where the female Gordion wolves had ended up.
She put her dreamglide in motion. With another thought she moved within a few feet of him, off to the side of what looked like an expensive office.
As she turned the opposite direction, she could see that Sydon’s space was at the head of a long series of adjoining rooms, each with a wide entrance and pocket doors kept open. The work areas looked formal, even elegant with wood paneling. The style seemed like a strange choice for a killer like Sydon.
Within the series of rooms, dozens of wolves moved around or sat at desks. They were working hard, but at what?
Several rooms down, she could see a wall of monitors.
On instinct, she piloted her craft to the much larger space where fifteen screens were mounted on the wall, each showing live-feeds of the fronts of various properties. It took her a moment to recognize both Warren’s and Fergus’s, which in turn meant she was looking at the front view of all the pack compounds.
A terrible feeling of dread came over her. Sydon was surveilling all the major packs of Savage Territory and probably had been for a long time.
She moved her dreamglide down through several more rooms. Each one became increasingly war-like with more monitors, finally ending in a large open space. In the center was a huge, digital relief map of Savage Territory laid out on a massive table. She felt dizzy with alarm.
Sydon had built a military operation and had kept it so secret she was sure neither Fergus nor Warren knew anything about it. But how had such a level of secrecy been able to exist in Savage, especially since she could sense his operation had been going on for months, possibly years? Wolves were gregarious by nature, even chatty at times.
Slowly, she made her way back in Sydon’s direction and only stopped once because she recognized one of the wolves.
Harley.
So, her instincts had been right all along. Harley was the traitor.
He was on the phone. She drew close to listen. “Amber Flame Rising launches at nine.” He hung up, punched in a few more numbers, then repeated the coded words.
Had to be an attack and the hour placed the timing well after full-dark.
Her heart beat hard in her chest. Sydon’s whole operation was primed and ready, though she had no idea what ‘Amber Flame Rising’ would actually look like. She recalled how Fergus had been deeply troubled about the territory, fearing that Savage was on the verge of something horrific. And here it was.
She held the dreamglide in front of Harley’s desk, hoping for more information. But with each phone call, he simply repeated the same message.
As she watched Harley, however, she realized something wasn’t right with him. This wasn’t the wo
lf she’d met at the Gordion Compound. His eyes were usually a clear, vivid blue. Right now they looked dull. Something was going on with him, but what?
She had to think. She had to pull all the pieces together and do it fast. Some kind of attack would occur at nine. But what was the actual scope of Amber Flame Rising?
She returned slowly to Sydon’s room. She still couldn’t believe all this existed and no one knew about it.
When she finally returned to her initial entry point, she found Sydon sitting at a large carved wood desk, papers scattered the entire width. His head was bent over his laptop and every few seconds he’d type rapidly. The staccato effect sounded loud in the otherwise quiet space.
His office had beautiful wood shelves, hundreds of books, and a display case housing a half-dozen antique swords. The walls bore a muted gray-patterned wallpaper, again very elegant and surprising.
Was this really Sydon’s set-up?
The stone floor was covered with what appeared to be an expensive woven carpet and on the opposite wall was a large landscape painting of the White Mountains. A credenza sat below the painting. Crystal decanters, filled with amber liquid, rested on a silver tray. In front of all this was, of all things, a curved purple velvet couch.
It was the couch, however, that caught Mary’s attention, not because it looked out of place, but because it belonged as surely as everything else in the room did. Yet very little about the décor seemed to match Sydon’s hard, ambitious exterior. Steel and glass would have worked. Slabs of black granite, maybe.
All this wood and velvet fit someone else entirely.
But who?
The wolf in her lifted her nose and sniffed the air. The dreamglide was an amazing alter creation, because she could even catch odors and fragrances through the dream-world vehicle.
The scent that struck her was complex and bitter, though it carried a redolence of smoke as well. And there it was, the answer to the riddle of how Sydon had built his operation.
Another entity was present in Sydon’s office, a woman who could hide herself in plain sight.
A witch.
But not any witch. This one was a dark witch from Elegance Territory.
So many elements of the past three days coalesced in Mary’s mind. Even Harley’s dull eyes, inexplicable defection and split-loyalties now made sense.
But there was something more. The witch carried another scent that Mary knew well, one that caused dread to spill over her in powerful waves. The woman wasn’t just a witch anymore. Instead she was part wolf, in the same way Mary had new wolf instincts and abilities.
Yet Mary couldn’t see the witch. The woman kept herself cloaked by means of a spell.
Extending her senses, Mary could tell that the witch was fully aligned with Sydon. They’d forged a bond and each had become more powerful because of it.
Mary knew she had to find out as much as possible about this woman in order to know exactly what Fergus and his pack would be dealing with tonight.
In real-time, she concentrated heavily on the dreamglide. She no longer needed to be asleep or even meditating, but held both realities open at the same time. The more she focused, using each mental awareness, the more her ability to see the witch from the position of the dreamglide began to improve.
At first, a vague, misty form took shape, almost ghostlike.
She concentrated harder until the mist began to coalesce and finally the witch was completely visible.
The woman levitated above the couch. She wore a long flowing garment, also in velvet though the color was a dark red, almost maroon. The bodice of the gown was cut low, exposing a long line of cleavage as well as beautiful amber flames that crawled up her throat and darkened her cheeks. Her skin was pale and she was very thin. The woman was an addict.
Her eyes were coal black and her features gaunt and sharp. She might have been beautiful at one time, now she looked grotesque.
Mary knew who she was, a powerful dark witch named Sandrine and a prime player in one of the dark covens of Elegance Territory. She had to be the source of the lethal blue powder that had come within an inch of killing Fergus.
She was famous for poisons and torture and especially liked to combine the flame drugs with her spells.
Sandrine suddenly stopped moving. She floated down to land on the floor. She was short, maybe only five-foot-two against Sydon who was well over a foot taller.
“Sydon, my love, someone is here and you’ll never guess who?”
Mary held her breath. She needed to leave but she had to know whether Sandrine actually knew Mary had invaded Sydon’s HQ.
“Just tell me.” Sydon sounded aggravated as he looked up from the stack of papers to the right of his laptop.
“Don’t get crabby with me. This is important. She’s Fergus’s woman, the one I warned you about repeatedly, the one I told you to get rid of. The veterinarian, Mary of Revel. Sound fucking familiar, my love?”
Sydon looked around. “What the hell are you talking about? I don’t see anyone and none of the alarms went off. She can’t be here.”
Somehow Sandrine had sensed the dreamglide.
Fear turned to a sharp, agonizing dread. If Sandrine had enough power to detect a dreamglide, Mary knew she had to get out of there. She immediately withdrew from the dreamglide.
As she sat up on her couch, she felt horribly exposed. She trembled and for a long moment couldn’t put one thought in front of the next. There was so much wrong with what she’d seen, and with what Sandrine had said, she hardly knew where to start.
First and foremost, Sandrine saw her as a threat and had for a long time.
Mary worked hard to face up to the truth. Everything she’d experienced with Fergus over the past few days told her she was in danger. But so was Savage Territory.
She glanced toward the shuttered windows and the backyard. Though it was now seven in the evening in the middle of June, it was still light out which meant Sydon’s forces couldn’t attack her home for at least another hour. Setting the major attack at nine would also ensure that his sun-sensitive alter forces would be safe once they went to war.
She put a hand to her chest and slowly worked at calming herself.
What she knew to be true was that Sydon and his counterpart were at the heart of the disaster looming over Savage. The bonded couple intended nothing less than full domination of the territory. Despite her sense of personal danger, she also knew she had to help thwart the threat that Sydon had become.
The wolves she’d seen weren’t the same wolves who served as part of Sydon’s rogue warrior pack. These wolves were administrators, and they’d set up a large organization, one that could rule. Harley was part of that, though he appeared to be drugged or more likely be-spelled. Mary doubted he was even aware of the role he played.
It was obvious to her now that the whole time Sydon had been in the dungeon at Fergus’s compound, he’d been communicating with Sandrine and his top wolves.
What came to mind next was a frightening question: How many spells had Sandrine employed to gather so many loyal wolves around Sydon? Had she done this to Harley or had Harley gone willingly?
She felt it now, the awful truth. If she was part wolf and Fergus was developing a number of fae instincts and abilities, then why not a wolf and a witch? Worse, why wouldn’t Sydon be a willing participant in the dark arts as practiced by Sandrine?
She knew the time had come to contact Fergus and she reached for him telepathically. He hadn’t responded earlier, apart from the dreamglide, but at the time he’d been caught in a nightmare. If he was waking up or already up for the night, she might be able to connect with him, even at such a distance.
Fergus, can you hear me?
Nothing returned, so she tried again. Fergus, it’s Mary. I need to talk to you and we probably shouldn’t use our phones.
She kept this up for a full minute, over and over, until a sleepy wolf finally responded. Mary, what’s going on? Are you okay? Where are you?
>
His immediate concern warmed her heart. She thought about mentioning the danger she was in, but right now, she wanted him to have the bigger picture.
She started, however, with what would be the most personal part for Fergus. I believe Harley’s been subverted by a witch’s spell.
She felt Fergus grow very still. What are you saying? Mary, what the fuck is going on?
I’ve been in the dreamglide and I know where Sydon is and Harley’s with him.
Fergus was silent for a moment then said quietly. I don’t believe it. Not Harley. I told you that before. He’s been with me for years. I trust him with my life.
Fergus, don’t take my word for it. Instead, access as much of your faeness as you can right now and see if you can locate Harley by yourself. If nothing else, check to see if he’s in the compound.
All right, give me a sec.
She remained quiet, then after a moment he returned to her. I’m here and I’ve opened up to my pack and the surrounding area. Harley’s not in the compound and though he has a den home nearby, he’s not there. And you say he’s with Sydon?
Yes, but first, before I tell you anything else, I want you to take in the full scope of Savage right now. Forget Harley and your pack. Focus all your attention on the territory.
Mary—
She felt his need to argue, so she cut him off. Fergus, stay with me on this and let me walk you through it. Will you do that for me?
Another long, difficult pause. Fergus wouldn’t like giving up control, not even in a conversation.
All right, fine.
Good. Use your faeness and encompass Savage in your thoughts.
She could feel his fae energy rising. I’m doing it now.
She waited, giving him time to connect with his territory the way a powerful fae could.
After a moment, he said, I’m sensing the same thing as before, as though every pack is on the brink of war. But I don’t get it.
She took a deep breath and launched in. Fergus, I found Sydon in an extensive headquarter system he’s built for himself. It’s not as big as your compound by any means, but large enough to coordinate anything he wants. Harley’s there because I’ve seen him, but I think he’s been be-spelled or drugged, I’m not sure.
