by Caris Roane
Zane gave him a quick rundown and before he even asked, Ian said, “Where do you want me and when?”
Some of the tension eased from Zane’s body. He could count on Ian just as he could count on any of the mastyrs of the Nine Realms. “Can you meet me at the Fae Guild in the Arundels, sooner the better?”
There was a long, strange pause. “Sure.”
“You know where it is, right?”
“Of course. I was there a few centuries ago. I wouldn’t forget it.”
Zane sensed some history, but it was hardly the time to walk down memory lane. He settled on seeing Ian within the hour, then returned his cell to his pocket.
He took Olivia’s hand, intending to lead her up the path to the arched portico, when the door opened and Regan appeared. She paused on the threshold for a moment, then headed down the path toward them. She wore a short, black leather jacket, snug jeans, and black leather, ankle boots. Smoky, violet eye-shadow fanned toward arched brows and her lips were a soft mauve color. She looked like a U.S. runway model.
Well, Olivia pathed. Not what I would have expected.
What were you expecting? Zane asked.
Something in robes made of white linen.
Zane smiled. Regan’s a woman unto herself. And I believe you’ll find her house more like the garden: formal.
Regan lifted a hand in greeting and smiled. Her light brown hair was swept away from strong, beautiful features. She had dark brown eyes and milky skin. Her jaw was strong, her nose straight, and she carried herself with a regal demeanor that always made Zane wonder if he should bow to her. As far as he knew, she wasn’t related to Queen Rosamunde, but she felt like royalty.
Royalty in black leather.
She offered her hand in greeting. “I’ve been out riding. My new Harley’s a dream.” Gloves stuck out of her jacket pocket.
Zane smiled. “Nothing better.” He covered Regan’s hand with both of his and her dark eyes turned a silvery hue as she held his gaze.
“How do you fare, Mastyr Zane?” The change in eye-color meant she was employing her thrall and reading him carefully.
He could have refused, but he trusted Regan with his life and she might learn something that would help him rid his realm of the Ancient Fae.
“I’m very well, Mistress.”
Her lips parted, expanding into a warm smile. “I can see you are. You have no more pain, then?”
He shook his head. “None, thank the Goddess.” He glanced at Olivia. She’d already given him so much and being free of the horrendous cramping sensations was just one of those things.
“Indeed, you should thank the Goddess, for I am fully persuaded she has brought this extraordinary woman to you.” After withdrawing her hand from his clasp, Regan offered the same to Olivia.
He made the introduction, a formal protocol more common in earlier centuries. “Olivia, may I present Regan of Swanicott, the Ruby Fae. Regan, Mistress Olivia, from Freeport, Maine and lately aligned with Luther, Alpha of the Shifter Community.”
Regan had a spiritual calm acquired from centuries of living and decades of study. He could feel her power vibrating in the air between them. Yet for all her peacefulness, he felt a tension in the woman, as though Regan kept herself under tight control.
“I’m happy to meet you, Mistress,” Olivia said.
“Cover our hands with your free hand,” Regan commanded. “Do this now.” Though speaking quietly, her words carried authority.
Olivia quickly covered their clasped hands.
Zane watched Regan’s eyes become silvery once more. Shifting his gaze to Olivia, he watched as her shoulders eased down and the usual tension in her features softened. Not all fae could enthrall, but certainly the most powerful could like Vojalie of Merhaine Realm and no doubt Margetta.
Zane knew Regan was sifting through Olivia’s memories, her face growing more and more concerned as the seconds passed. Finally, she withdrew her hand from Olivia and her lustrous dark brown eyes returned to their normal hue. “My poor child,” she murmured softly.
He heard Olivia’s swift intake of breath, who then turned to him and said, “I think she just saw my whole life, all twenty-seven years, even up to the past couple of hours.” A blush suffused her cheeks.
“Not to worry,” Regan said. “These images are locked within my soul, unless of course you’d like me to share them with Mastyr Zane.”
Olivia’s green eyes widened. “You could do that?”
Regan smiled softly. “Of course, but only if you wish it.”
Zane watched Olivia closely, wondering what she would choose.
The woman he’d come to admire in only two nights straightened her shoulders. “Show him everything. I want Zane to know who I am and what I’ve experienced. We have a very difficult decision to make in the coming days, but right now I have a strong advantage over him since I’ve read every article about him on the Realm Internet. However, he knows next to nothing about me; just what he’s observed.”
“Are you certain?” Regan asked.
Zane couldn’t believe Olivia was going to allow a full knowing of who she was, of her life experiences. He knew for a fact he’d never do the same for her, mostly because he’d spent his entire adult life making war against the Invictus. He’d also bedded a helluva lot of women.
Olivia nodded slowly. “I think it’s for the best.”
The Ruby Fae turned toward Zane. “And will you accept this knowing?”
He frowned as he took Olivia’s hand, holding her gaze. “Are you absolutely sure you want to do this?”
Olivia smiled. “You will see some embarrassing things about my life as well as behavior you won’t approve of, but I think it’s only fair. I’ve been basically spying on you for months. You should know me, all of me, especially because I’m a rose blood. It’s pushing us to do something I’m not sure we should do.”
Zane wasn’t certain why he felt as he did, but he wanted to know about Olivia’s life. In particular, why Regan had said ‘my poor child’. What had she meant by it though he suspected she was referring to Olivia’s isolated life.
Finally, Zane nodded. “I want to know.”
He thought there would be more preamble, at the very least an explanation of the process because he’d never done something like this before. Instead, Regan put her hand on his forehead and like watching a series of quick moving snapshots, Olivia’s life rolled out before him. He saw her memories from the time she was a toddler until the moment Regan had touched his head.
He weaved on his feet, trying to process what he’d just witnessed.
But what unfolded was the reason why Regan had said what she’d said.
Zane hadn’t realized until this moment how much his life was centered on being a part of one group or another, even as the ruler of an entire realm.
But Olivia’s human life had been just as she’d said, very isolated. He saw her often as a child with her hands covered in her fur, weeping at night, rubbing her fur against her cheeks.
All during her growing up years, she’d been denied a critical enjoyment of pack connection. Her human mother couldn’t have known what this deprivation had meant for Olivia and in turn, Olivia would never have been able to discern the nature of her suffering as a child.
“You missed your pack.”
“What?” Olivia turned toward him, her eyes questioning. “I don’t understand.”
“As a child, you would comfort yourself with your fur, this way.” He stroked his cheek as an example.
Her brow grew pinched. “You’re right. Usually at night, especially if I couldn’t sleep.”
“When young shifters need pack involvement, that’s what they do.”
~
Olivia let go of Zane’s hand and turned away from both Regan and Zane. She put a hand to her stomach, trying to hold back what she knew each of them had tapped into. She’d always thought those unexpressed feeling were about her isolation, her general loneliness.
It
had never occurred to her that what she’d experienced was a longing for a shifter pack.
Zane drew near and surrounded her with his arms from behind, holding her close. You’re beautiful, Olivia, inside and out. I’m sorry for your childhood, and that you weren’t able to enjoy the ongoing comfort a shifter community provides for its young.
I’m overwhelmed, she responded. I always thought it was some defect of mine.
I know. I sensed as much as well.
Olivia appreciated Zane’s arms around her. She worked hard to make the mental adjustment. Instead of being a defective kid, she’d been a normal shifter child.
Regan added, “And it’s a wonderful thing you’re a Zephyr shifter. More than any other species, shifters need to know they can make an important contribution to their community.
“Also…” Regan turned to her right and waved to a brick path that descended down a gentle slope into the forest. “At the end of the path, with the black lanterns on the brick pillars, is a cottage I’d like you to use whenever you need to. It’s yours for the next twelve-months. You may use it together or if either of you should need some alone time, the cottage will always be available to both of you. My apprentices will keep the place stocked with food and fresh linens.”
“Your offer is very generous,” Zane said, releasing Olivia.
The Ruby Fae gestured toward her home, waving them forward. “Because of the knowing I can tell you right now, Mastyr Zane, I will help in any way I can. The review of Olivia’s memories has shown me the spell Margetta created around the Invictus camp, keeping it invisible to all other Realm-folk. And, Mistress Olivia, I am in awe you were able to see through the spell.”
Regan opened the front door, leading them both through a long, arched hall. The floors were very formal, made of an alternating pattern of black and white marble squares. Arched insets in the walls housed beautiful landscape paintings.
Zane stopped in his tracks. “Mistress Regan, these were done by my wife.”
Olivia turned to look at Regan. “But … I thought … ”
Regan’s voice was suddenly in her head. I prevented the memories of his wife from reaching him. Now is not the time to reveal the truth, but the time will soon come. Then you must tell him. But don’t be afraid. All will be well, even though the knowledge will be hard to receive.
“What’s going on?” Zane asked, frowning. “I can see the two of you aren’t telling me something.”
“I want you to be patient, Mastyr,” Regan said. She took a moment to remove her jacket. Beneath was a black, long-sleeved t-shirt and green crystal pendant. “In due course, you’ll know everything.” She drew up beside him and gestured to the row of three paintings, each lit beneath its own arch. “I commissioned these from your wife.”
He reached out and touched the landscape of the rugged coastline of his realm. “We argued about her painting jaunts time and time again. I didn’t want her to go out. I wanted her to be safe.”
Regan released a sigh. “She needed her freedom, Zane. Can you not understand as much?”
He nodded slowly. “I wasn’t a good husband to Emily, and I regret so much of our relationship. But in the end, she was taken from me anyway, despite my efforts to protect her.”
Regan didn’t say anything for a long moment and Olivia kept her peace as well. These were Zane’s toughest issues, the ones which had prevented him from getting involved with another woman again.
Finally, Regan inclined her head, gesturing up the hall. “Come. Let’s look to what must be accomplished tonight. One day you’ll have great peace about your wife. You’ll see. For now, let’s talk war strategy.”
~
Those at least were words Zane could understand and appreciate. Emily’s need for freedom at the expense of her safety still made no sense to him. And he resented her stubbornness about venturing into the countryside, at night, by herself, to paint her landscapes.
As he walked beside Olivia, he could see something was troubling her, maybe the issue Regan had prevented her from bringing up. It was so strange to be carrying around within his mind a lifetime of her memories.
He’d understood from the beginning she’d been hurt in her childhood. But seeing her pain, a suffering endured from year-to-year, twisted his heart. She’d been teased badly at school for her fur and no one had been there to mentor her strong shifter nature. Her mother had been a good woman, a good parent, but as a human, she hadn’t understood her daughter’s needs.
At the same time, Olivia’s courage in the face of how different she was from other children at school had forged her character. She was strong and independent and he admired the hell out of her.
Regan led them to a small library and from her desk withdrew several pieces of copier paper, taping them together quickly. Using a pencil, she drew a quick sketch of the general lay-out of Margetta’s camp.
She glanced at Olivia. “Does this look right to you? I’m drawing from your memories.”
“Yes. This is exactly how I remember the camp.”
Zane picked through the recently shared images of Olivia’s life as well and found the ones where she had bounded over the spell wall in order to rescue him from his captor’s tent.
He slowed the images down and took a good long look at the camp, frame by frame. He kept viewing as Olivia glided her way through the shrieking wraith-pairs to the well-guarded tent where he’d been held captive.
He saw himself face down on the tent floor, just as Olivia would have seen him. He repressed a shudder at the cuts and blood over his back from the whipping he’d endured. Margetta hadn’t held back.
He watched as Olivia approached him, sniffing, then stretching out near him to lick his face in small gentle swipes. His chest expanded at the sight, warming up.
The rest became his own memories, and of waking up to Olivia in her shifted form. He recalled now he’d been more than relieved to see her.
He glanced at her while she and Regan talked about the spell. He never wanted to go through losing another woman again, or failing in a relationship because he could be so damn controlling, or so busy with work he ignored her needs.
If he bonded with Olivia, would he be any different with her than he had been with Emily?
He was tempted. Badly. She was definitely his kind of woman. His fae wife had been a vulnerable artist type and had grown increasingly discontent living with him as the years wore on.
They’d had so many fights over the final two years of their marriage. It seemed all he had to do was come home from a night of battling and the quarreling would start. By the time he’d found her blood all over the kitchen, the love had long since disappeared.
But the whole thing had left him feeling as though he’d failed Emily in every possible way.
Would Olivia be safe if he completed the bond with her? Would he know how to be a good husband to her?
“Zane, are you listening?” Regan asked.
Shit, what had he missed? “Absolutely. Well, actually, no.”
Regan smiled. “It’s okay. Most of this was for Olivia. But let me reiterate the most important point; I’m not sure how long it will take for me to figure out how to break down Margetta’s spell so I can disperse it, but I’m thinking at least a half hour. I’ll also have to hunt for the point of origin at the campsite where Margetta stood to enact the spell. Once I’ve found what I’m looking for, it may still take me a bit more time. Nothing about this is an exact science.”
“But you can do it?” he asked.
“There’s no doubt in my mind. And I’ll work as fast as I can.”
Olivia frowned. “What about Margetta? If she’s at the camp, won’t she know what’s going on and try to interfere?” She glanced from Zane to Regan.
Regan, who had been leaning over the makeshift map, rose, frowning. “It is the most significant part of the equation. I won’t be able to do anything if she’s present.”
Zane smiled. “Then we’ll need to find a way to keep her occu
pied.”
He tapped on Regan’s telepathic frequency, not to keep the exchange hidden from Olivia, but to establish a connection with Regan. She must have understood his intention because she allowed him entrance. He said, We’ll communicate like this throughout the mission. Agreed?
Of course.
Though a pure fae, Regan wasn’t a deeply sensitive woman like Emily. Regan was very old and had a backbone of iron. She’d played an important role in the development of Swanicott over the centuries, especially her part in building up the Fae Guild. But he’d always thought there was more to the woman than met the eye and considerably more than just her spell-casting fae nature. Who she was or who she might become given the opportunity, remained to be seen.
With communication established and a general plan in place, he left the room to get on his cell and conference-call Chase and Sawyer. They needed to hatch a scheme to lure Margetta away from the camp while Regan worked on the spell.
“Margetta will want Olivia out of the picture, right?” Chase asked.
Zane dug in his heels immediately. “I don’t like where this is headed.”
“Hear me out. From what you told me about events at the Elf Lords Hideaway, Margetta has a means of tracking Olivia. Why not let her give chase? Show her a few of Olivia’s footprints, or whatever it is Margetta can detect when Olivia is cloaked, then steadily lead her away from the camp.”
Zane sighed. The problem with the plan was that it would work. But he hated the idea of letting Margetta get anywhere near Olivia again.
“There’s something else we could try as well,” Sawyer said. “I have several pure-wraith friends who would be happy to work against Margetta. I know they’d leave the Wraith Colony for a chance to do some damage to the Ancient Fae’s army. For every hot-blooded youth who takes off for the mainland in hopes of adventure, a wraith family grieves. You may not believe this, but no one wants Margetta out of commission more than the wraiths in your island colony.”
Zane had to think the idea over. He and his Vampire Guard had battled the Invictus heavily in his realm and he couldn’t easily set aside his distrust for wraiths generally. Even with what he’d learned in Ashleaf Realm, that all the species of the Nine Realms came from wraith stock, he still had a hard time forgiving the species. If Margetta hadn’t been able to subvert a great number of the wraith population, there would be no Invictus army to battle.
