Winter (Mist Riders Book 2)

by Stella Fitzsimons

  I watched, fascinated, as she brought the gum to her lips and licked it. With some delay, I realized she was performing a hypnotizing ritual, a typical spell that diviners used when they wanted to create a distraction.

  “Faithful herald?” I said. “Who else of our world was there that night?”

  I knew it was likely no one from our world, but I doubted Celia would ever betray her Immortal or morph contact.

  Celia bit off a tiny piece of her gum. “One with no name for a name would alter their essence.”

  Riddles. I sucked at riddles.

  Celia grinned. “Not to worry, darling, the herald was a benign force.”

  There was no such thing in all the worlds.

  “You wanted to see me?” I said.

  She moved forward in her chair and placed the book at her feet. “Why don’t you take a seat, sweetheart? Would you like some pie?”

  Now she was yanking my chain. I had no time for pie, and she knew it. By now, she must have noticed I was immune to her hypnotizing ritual. “No thanks, Gram’s expecting me for dinner.”

  “Ah, how is Iris? Do give her my regards.”

  Nice try. “I’ll do that. I’m wondering how you knew I was here.”

  “Your aura. To anyone with my experience in telekinetic etheric fields it is impossible to miss, like a ticking pendulum clock in an empty mansion.”

  She could hear my aura? That was a new one.

  “You sensed… sorry, heard my aura from a distance?”

  “Like a tidal echo,” she said.

  That wasn’t good. No one wants their aura to run ahead of them, announcing their approach.

  “Don’t worry your curious mind,” she said. “I’ve had your aura sealed.”

  I’d have to approach this from a different angle. “And how did you know the aura belonged to me?” I sounded like a broken record.

  “Because someone wanted it that way.”

  “Grandma,” I whispered, then plopped down onto the chair like a heavy sack of potatoes.

  Celia tilted her head to the side. “She loves you.”

  Just wait until I get home, Gram. Time to discuss some boundaries.

  “She loves me so much that she cast a spell on me, so I’d tick like a time bomb for anyone to hear.”

  “Only the ears of an old diviner could ever,” Celia said. “And there are things that you need to hear.”

  No shit, Madam Sherlock.

  “First, let’s both agree to leave Faion out of this. My boy’s heart is in the right place, but he’s not qualified for this war of giants.”

  How much did she know? Did she know everything?

  “Agreed,” I said. “I don’t want any harm to come to him.”

  “Of that we are of one mind,” she said.

  “He’s the best, a true friend. His mother raised him right.”

  “She did, I’ll tell her.” Celia blew a bubble that kept growing until it exploded onto her nose and cheeks. “You, too, are a noble soul, Luna Mae.”

  “I don’t know about that.”

  “You do and I do,” Celia said as she picked bubblegum from her face.

  What a strangely playful lady.

  “I do the best I can,” I conceded.

  “Lucky for all of us,” she added. “Now, young lady, would you like to know of your origins… of the place from which you truly come?”

  Was there anything Celia Trice didn’t know? Faion might have been right. We should have brought her in from the start.

  “Is that a trick question?”

  Celia laughed. “No dear, it’s the only question.”

  “Yes,” I said. “Yes, I would.”

  She filled her lungs, then lay back in her chair and closed her eyes.

  I waited. Seconds passed that felt like minutes.

  “A very powerful entity gave you to Magistrate Winter,” she began. “Someone who walks in danger.”

  My heart pounded wildly in my chest. “More powerful than a Shadow?”

  Celia sighed. “Not many have survived an encounter with a Shadow, and you have seen at least two.”

  Yeah, I’m a tad bit hard to kill.

  In a flash, Celia pulled me to my feet. She placed her hands on my temples. “Why is that?” she said, inhaling before closing her eyes again.

  My body stiffened. I fought the urge to swipe her hands away.

  Celia eased the pressure on my temples. “It’s okay,” she said. “I do not wish to see beyond what you want me to see. I’m not an intruder. I searched for signs you might want to confide in me. I found none.”

  There were none. I wasn’t about to let anyone know I was a descendant of the legendary mist riders or that I was, to some degree, immortal. I was still grappling with that revelation myself.

  “Please, Celia, tell me everything,” I said.

  Celia shook her head. “Oh, honey, whoever they are, they won’t reveal themselves to me. They’re too powerful.”

  My body felt hollow and cold. I really needed to know.

  Celia patted my back. “Are you sure you won’t have that pie?”

  “I’m good, I knew it was a long shot.”

  “My dear girl, you must watch your back. Not all fears lead you to the enemy. And not all hopes lead you home.”

  “I think I understand, but I’ve seen enemy faces with my own eyes. At least, some of them.”

  "No, my dear... the enemy is never something you see with eyes. It’s something you feel and, when you feel it, your mind will understand, your mind will see. Only then can you choose, Luna."

  “I choose me and mine. My Gram, my friends, my life.”

  “You don’t mean that. This is not something I divine, I feel it. The future of our kind may well rest in your hands. There must be choices made.”

  “Taking sides? War? That sounds like what humanity does and I’m not really interested in repeating their mistakes.”

  She studied me as if for the first time. “There is no perfect way through this life. This can never be Utopia. This can never be the realization of untarnished virtues. If two very flawed Immortals can kill each other and, in so doing, absorb the other’s etheric essence and grow their powers, knock on the door of invincibility, how long until they will lose touch with their patience with lesser beings? Have you ever seen what humans do to harmless insects?”

  “Shit, that’s really dark.”

  “Yeah,” Celia said. “It is and you must be the light. You will guide the Immortal who wins your trust. Balance is needed. It may be your instincts, your clarity, your choices... if you are pure, you can be yourself. That is all you need to be.”

  Okay, but is she really suggesting Chaos as an option? I mean Winter does suck at times, but Chaos? Come on.

  Celia’s eyes rolled back as her mouth closed in a lopsided manner, the right edge half an inch lower than the left. Her body swayed. I caught her right before she collapsed.

  “Don’t you fuss,” she said as I helped her sit down. “I looked too deep, too long. I may have said too much. That’s all for today.”

  “Do you want Faion?”

  “No, this must stay between us. All of it.” She reached out to pet my face.

  “I understand, Miss Trice, I do. Thank you.”

  She sighed. “I am sorry I could not do more, dear soul. And I am sorry for the burden you must carry. I would take it all upon myself if I could.”

  And now, as I left her, I wavered on my own feet. I wanted to set down this unwanted burden every bit as much as Celia and, I am sure, my Gram, would want to pick it up and carry it far away from me.

  CHAPTER 4

  ____________________________________

  Something was off. I sensed it before I noticed the red circle on my door. Thin threads of energy sparked at the tip of my fingernails as I feared more demon animals closing in. I traced the blood with my right index finger. The stain was the size of a quarter and bright enough to be fresh.

  My eyes dropped to the lock�
�broken. Whoever had left the blood on the door had been inside my apartment or, maybe, were here now.

  Calling upon my elemental power, I gently pushed the door open. I stepped through the doorway cautiously, my senses enflamed.

  I held my breath as I flipped on the light. The place had been trashed. Tables and chairs toppled, sofa cushions gutted, bookshelves emptied, torn books and papers strewn everywhere. Even my mattress had been cut open.

  Good luck finding anything of value in here, evil henchmen.

  The kitchen was similarly ransacked. A saucepan was lodged in the window screen over the sink, all the glass having shattered away and collected in both sinks, on the counter and on the floor. The cupboards were damaged, doors bent, missing, punched through. I kicked through a pile of dishes, cups and Tupperware containers to close the refrigerator door.

  This was not the work of campus vandals or petty thieves. Nothing had been taken. This was a premeditated search for something not found.

  Clutching onto my suitcase, I was very grateful that my personal documents, credit cards, laptop and my favorite outfits were safe inside.

  I suddenly felt very tired. There was so much behind me and so much ahead. My eyes scanned the absurdity of my ravaged belongings and all I could feel was heavy muscle fatigue, the exhaustion from my delayed flight and the whole mess of my insane, disjointed, bizarre existence over the last few months.

  A wiser witch would have been on alert or, at least, apprehensive or mildly terrified. I wasn’t wise.

  I glanced back at the still open front door.

  I shouldn’t use magic unless completely necessary but screw it. I spun on my feet and raised my hands to conjure a spell to fix the lock when a tall man stepped into the doorway.

  Electricity shocked my hand as my fusing spell swelled into a shimmering lightning bolt fueled by a million megawatts. Cold sweat oozed onto my neck and face. My heartbeat accelerated to manic and a sudden headache split my skull as I fought to reabsorb the immense energy back into my own life force.

  Lunar witches have hyper quick reflexes. It was the only reason I hadn’t obliterated Emmet on the spot.

  He took a step back, a grave look on his face. “Whoa, I come in peace.”

  Was peace even an option anymore?

  “Sheesh, Emmet. You almost got barbecued.”

  His lips parted into a sly grin. “Well, it’s good to still be here.”

  “Why are you here?” I said.

  “To make sure you’re safe,” he said. “I stopped by earlier and saw the state of your apartment. I waited a while, then went for coffee. I came back and here you are, ready to roast me alive.”

  I dropped my head and closed my eyes. Just what I needed, my ex showing up trying to be chivalrous. “How long have you been here?”

  “About three hours,” he said, eying the phone in his hand. “Three hours and eleven minutes, if we’re being precise.”

  When Emmet and I last spoke, days before I left for Astoria, we agreed we wouldn’t see each other again. Well, it was my idea, but he said he’d honor it.

  He read my mind. “I swear I wasn't stalking you.”

  Oy. It was true. I had accused him of stalking more than once and I had mostly been wrong. “I never said that.”

  “Really, though, I was lured here. Look.”

  He swiped the screen on his phone and handed it to me.

  My eyes glazed over a text that had been sent from my number.

  Today 11:14 AM

  home tonight

  need 2 talk

  7pm, my place

  Emmet had replied, confirming he’d be there. I should have received his reply since he sent it to my number.

  I dug my phone out of my purse and scrolled through my texts. Nothing. The last text received from Emmet was in September, back when we thought there might be something real happening between us.

  Before I knew he was a shifter. Before he knew I was a witch.

  “My number was spoofed,” I said, shocked at the turn of events.

  Muscles flexed in his neck. “Doesn’t explain why you didn’t get my text.”

  “Who’d want you here to see my place trashed?”

  “Not sure that’s what they were going for,” he said. “Anyway, it was dark. I didn’t get a good look at the intruders.”

  “Wait… you were here when it happened?”

  “Caught the tail end. They were finishing up. They came at me, four by my count, fought me a little. Felt like a setup.”

  “Go back,” I said. “Tell me from the start.”

  “There’s not much more. The apartment went dark the moment I pushed the door open, like an unnatural dark. I couldn’t see my own hand, so I couldn’t make out their faces—if they had faces, they didn’t feel human.”

  Dread pulsed through me. “Shifters?” I said out loud, hoping they weren’t morphs on a frenzied path of revenge.

  Emmet shook his head. “Beasts of some sort, humanoid, upright fighters but not shapeshifters. I would have smelled it on them.”

  I pointed at the door. “The blood?”

  He shrugged. “Could be mine. Not sure, it happened fast. One second they were on me, the next I was slashing and biting.”

  It hit me that he had fought off four beasts in an ambush. “Are you okay, Emmet?” I said, reaching for his shoulder.

  He grinned. “I play rough and I heal fast.”

  Was he really trying to flirt right now?

  “Is this a victory gloat?”

  “Well, they ran off. Either I was doing okay, or they thought I wasn’t worth all the trouble.”

  “I’m sure you were doing okay,” I said to reassure his male ego.

  “You think?” he said with a glint in his eyes. “Because I definitely remember you thinking I wasn’t worth the trouble.”

  “That’s not getting a response,” I said. “Let’s stay focused.”

  “I’ve patrolled the area,” he said. “There’s nothing out there.”

  “I’m just glad you’re still in one piece.”

  He honestly seemed no worse for wear. His black V neck t-shirt clung to his upper body like a glove, his thick brown hair was combed back flawlessly and his jeans... ah, there it was— two long tears ran down the front of his left pant leg while the bottom of the right pant leg had been shredded.

  He remained radiant and charming as ever. His warm, hazel eyes, sensual lips and irresistible smile were still—

  Snap out of it, Sophie. Stay focused on your own damn self.

  “Your shirt…” I stared at his chest, tongue-tied and wanting to die.

  “My shirt?” he said. “Ah, right. They ruined the other shirt. I had an extra one in my duffel bag. I came straight from the gym.”

  “It’s just, you didn’t look like you’d been fighting.”

  “I also used some of your hair gel earlier. Hope you don’t mind.”

  “Why would I mind?” I said, trying to avoid the intensity of his eyes.

  “I tend to say stupid things around you, Sophie.”

  I loved hearing my basic name on his lips and even as I avoided his eyes, I felt his eyes all over me.

  Damn. Way off track. Like big time.

  “Emmet, do you think they wanted to hurt you?”

  “I don’t think so. I showed up early.”

  “How early?”

  “Half an hour.” He shook his head. “Actually, closer to forty minutes. Okay, forty-two minutes early. I was impatient and eager to see you.”

  Stay on track, Sophie.

  “And you think they were finishing up?’

  “I didn’t know at the time,” he said, “but after they left, I checked out the apartment. They had pretty much searched everywhere.”

  “You went through my things?”

  Guilt flushed all over his face.

  “Never mind,” I said. “My flight was late. I would have been here when they were, then you would have arrived shortly after, that is if you had not
arrived forty-two minutes early. It stands to reason they wanted us both here at around the same time. The only part I don’t understand is why they needed both of us together? There’s something we’re not seeing.”

  “There’s a lot I’m not seeing,” Emmet said. “I don’t have clue one, Sophie. All I know is that you’re not safe here. We can’t guess what’s coming next. Maybe we should consider calling the cops.”

  I paced the floor of my apartment, navigating the debris. I let the facts sink in. Who would do this? Chaos was the obvious suspect, but this seemed like a big step back for him. I mean, I had pretty much invited him to bring me proof of his claim that the Seventh Council planned to take over the world.

  “If paranormal forces are involved, going to the cops is not an option, you know that, Emmet.”

  “At least come with me. You can spend the night at my place, and we can figure out what to do in the morning.”

  The dashing doctor wanted to get me alone in his bachelor pad.

  Hard pass.

  “Not a good idea,” I said.

  “You can’t stay here. The windows are out, the lock is broken.”

  I shrugged. “I’m hardly helpless.”

  He looked stumped. “You’re not serious about staying here tonight?”

  Yeah, my apartment had seen better days, but it was still mine and leaving it behind, even in this state, felt like a betrayal.

  “Sophie, I swear, I have no romantic designs,” Emmet assured me.

  “It’s not that,” I said. “I wouldn’t be able to rest with my place in this order. I want to see what’s missing, maybe find a clue.”

  Also, to deal with the broken items from my past, broken memories, but I did not want to appear vulnerable and encourage him to comfort me.

  He was really at a loss for words this time. I could almost hear the gears grinding in his head. “You’re going to call him?” he said in the end.

  Oh, no, Emmet, please let’s not go there.

  “And by him do you mean Jonas?”

  “I don’t know his name. I mean the caveman, the old geezer. I bet you think he could protect you.”

  I was being baited. I wasn't going to bite. “I’m not calling anyone.”