The Lemurian moved around her in a circle. Aislinn became stillness itself, waiting. They stood like that, Metae moving and Aislinn immobile, until dawn lightened the eastern horizon. Sometimes, Metae moved so quickly that Aislinn could only feel her, and sometimes, so slowly that the only hint she moved at all was her position shifted subtly as time flowed past.
“I think,” Metae said after Aislinn had given up on the Old One telling her anything, “I shall leave you in your world—”
An odd mixture of disappointment and relief swept through her. She’d wanted to see the mysterious Taltos, but had been scared of what she’d find there. Her humanity felt like it was shrinking. One of the fears she’d kept to herself was that the Old Ones would complete the transformation, and she’d become something alien. Like them.
Laughter like pealing bells filled the dawn. “Oh, you are far from off the hook, child. You are developing into something…interesting. Amazingly, with little intervention from us. I find that fascinating. I am simply giving you more time on your own to, shall we say, discover your talents. Then we shall welcome you to Taltos.”
So I can entertain all of you? I don’t think so. She clamped down on her thoughts. The Old Ones could read them easily if they were paying attention. Though Metae narrowed her eyes, she didn’t say anything.
If Aislinn hadn’t been so shocked by the turn of events, she’d have been ready. She knew how Lemurians came and went: in a puff of light so bright, it blinded you, leaving spots dancing in front of your eyes for hours. The blast rocked her. She slammed her lids down, but was a fraction of a second too late. Light seared her corneas, burning into her brain.
Rune yelped. She remembered he’d been frozen in place, eyes wide open. Finding him by feel, she pulled him to her. “It’s all right. She’s gone.” Laying hands over the wolf’s eyes, she sent her magic—fairly fully recovered to her relief—edging forward. When she found healthy tissue instead of sizzled cells, she blew out a breath and smoothed his fur back along the sides of his muzzle. “Your eyes will be fine, Rune.”
“What do you mean she’s gone?” he demanded.
“One of the Old Ones was here.”
“Why couldn’t I sense her?” Rune wriggled out of her grasp, blinking furiously.
“Because she immobilized you.”
The wolf growled. “I will have a word with her when we get to Taltos. Or him, if she’s shifted.”
Aislinn cocked her head to one side. “That’s just it,” she muttered. “Now we aren’t going.”
Rune squeezed his eyes shut, grimacing. “I’m going to the lake to douse my head. My eyes are burning. When I come back, you need to tell me everything.”
The sun was well up in the sky by the time they’d finished another meal. While they ate, Rune peppered her with questions as she relayed Metae’s visit, asking for clarification on several points. He growled, rose to his feet, and shook himself from ears to tail, before head-butting her with his snout. “Because you have become an interesting specimen for them to watch, they are not going to give you any assistance. At least not now.”
“That’s about the size of it.” Aislinn sucked the last shreds of rabbit flesh off a bone, following it with a thick wad of watercress. Her fire had bothered the wolf so much the night before that she’d opted for raw this morning.
“We treat pack puppies with more respect.”
Aislinn shot him a look. “I’m scarcely a puppy.”
“In terms of your knowledge of magic, that is exactly what you are.”
Ouch. “Touché.”
“And that means?”
“Even though it pains me, I agree with you.”
Rune whuffed low in the back of his throat. She could have sworn he was laughing.
“So, human, where do we go next?”
She stuffed a wild onion into her mouth, delighting in the bitter sweetness of it as she chewed. Waving the stalk in his direction, she said, “I’ve been thinking about that.”
He waited, watching her closely.
“I think we should go home. To my home, that is,” she clarified.
“Why?”
Good question. “Because all my things—well, the few I have—are there.”
“Would you like to see where Marta and I lived?”
A sudden flash of insight slammed her between the eyes. Rune wanted things from what had been his home. “I’d love to.” Her reward was a quick flip of his tail as he bounded to her side, eyes bright and filled with what looked like anticipation. She met his golden gaze full on. “We can get whatever you want while we’re there.”
“Maybe you’ll want—” Head rearing up, his voice broke off.
Senses on red alert, she leapt to her feet. It took a few seconds before she heard it, but wing beats filled the still morning air. “Just birds,” she sent, reverting to mind speech.
“No. Ready yourself. We need to fight.”
Trusting Rune’s instincts, she melted into the shadows of a tree that would shield her from something airborne. The wolf didn’t bother. He didn’t have to. His natural form was an effective disguise. For a ridiculous moment, she wondered if she could learn to shapeshift along with Healing and Hunting, and then she laughed silently to herself. Taking different forms was a Lemurian skill. No human had mastered it. At least, she didn’t think any had.
She trained her senses on the skies, eyes narrowed in concentration. As surreptitiously as possible, she pulled power from the earth, keeping her magic out of the air. The wing beats got louder. Clearly, whatever was coming wasn’t interested in stealth—which meant they hadn’t zeroed in on her. Or else they were so strong, they didn’t fear anything. Not a comfortable thought.
Aislinn caught sight of a leathery wingtip and cringed. Bats, but probably not normal ones. It was rare to find animals nowadays that hadn’t been turned by one side or the other. Hunters used bond animals like Rune to expand their ability to seek out and destroy the enemy. If Rune thought the bats were a threat, they probably were.
“Draw one breath and fire,” the wolf said.
“What will—?”
“I will help you when they get close enough to pull out of the skies.”
The minute she loosed her magic, the bats would be on them. So far, they hadn’t been discovered. If she stilled her power and Rune acted more like a forest wolf and less like a bond animal, the bats might just pass on by. They had to be headed for their cave. Nocturnal creatures, the daylight must be uncomfortable for them.
“We may not have to fight. Pretend you are hunting. I will mute myself.”
He didn’t answer, but she knew he’d heard. He sauntered away from her, sprang, and pulled a mouse from scrub grass and pine needles. The next rodent he pounced on looked larger, more like a marmot. Rune dragged it into the shadow of a boulder and proceeded to rip its guts open.
Aislinn became one with the tree next to her, borrowing its energy to cover hers. Barely breathing, she willed the winged mammals on their way. They filled the skies above her now. Their sharp, high-pitched squeals were loud in her ears. They sounded angry about something. The bulk of them flew on. She was close to congratulating herself on calling this one right, when half a dozen wheeled back, heading right for Rune.
What the fuck? Bats don’t attack things fifty times larger than themselves.
“Rune. Swim to the middle of the lake. Stay there.”
The wolf exploded from his place. Long before the bats reached where he’d been, she heard a splash and knew he was following her directions. She’d been afraid he’d argue with her. Chittering like little mad things, the bats picked up the remains of the marmot and suspended it between four of them. Burdened by the dead animal, they flew low, but at least they left. She waited before she risked sending magic skyward to make certain they
were gone.
Inhaling a steadying breath, letting it out, and pulling in another, Aislinn thanked the tree for helping shield her, shouldered her rucksack, and loped to the lake. Her wolf paddled in slow circles, wearing an annoyed expression.
“Come on. Let’s get moving while we can.” She smiled at him. He looked like a large drowned rat.
Rune made the shore far faster than she expected. The second he hauled his body out of the water, he stalked over to her and shook himself, spraying her with droplets. “You will never order me away from you again when there is danger.”
“I’m just glad you listened. Don’t you see? This was better than having to fight. Neither one of us are hurt—”
“We must be equal partners.” He growled low in the back of his throat, hackles at half-mast. “The bond means I obey you, whether or not it’s what I want. I loved Marta, but she forced her will on me. In the end, it meant her death.”
She looked at Rune and extended compassion through their bond, hoping it would soothe his obvious pain. “I did not know. Truly. Remember, I am not trained as a Hunter.” She sank a tentative hand into his wet ruff. “When there is little time to discuss strategy, what would you have us do?”
“I had a plan—” he began and then snapped off the next words so hard, his teeth clacked together.
“And it may well have worked.” She stroked his head and shoulders. Water squeaked beneath her fingers. “Rune, we are newly met. It will take time for me to discover your strengths and for you to appreciate mine.”
“I am sorry.” He really did look contrite. “Wanting you to do my bidding was not any different than you ordering me about.” He nuzzled her side.
Except you’re bound to obey me. Wish I’d known that…
The tang of magic zinged through the air. Rune’s tail swished. Aislinn sent power in a protective arc over them both.
“Sister Hunter!” a decidedly masculine voice boomed from behind them. With barely a rustle, a tall blond man stepped out of a thick pine grove. The biggest raven she’d ever seen rode on his shoulder, its curved beak open in greeting.
Chapter Six
Aislinn took him in as he strode toward them. He moved with an understated grace that hinted at barely suppressed power. A tattered corduroy jacket hung off impossibly broad shoulders. It was open, showing a well-muscled chest covered with golden hair that glistened in the sun. The day wasn’t really all that warm. She wondered why he wasn’t wearing more. A flat, hard stomach disappeared into faded dungarees that hugged narrow hips. His hair had been hacked off to shoulder length. She supposed it helped keep the bird’s claws from tangling in it. Bright blue eyes gleamed at her. He was smiling, and it made the corners of his eyes crinkle into happy little creases. A scraggly beard covered cheeks and chin. He had very straight, white teeth nested in a strong jaw.
What a gorgeous man.
“I’m Fionn.” He extended a hand. “And this is Nevermore.” He glanced at the raven.
“That is not my name, and you know it.” The raven sounded pissed. She trained beady, avian eyes at Aislinn. “My true name is Bella.”
Realizing she’d been gawking, Aislinn took Fionn’s hand, gave it a firm shake, and pulled hers back. She felt color stain her cheeks and hoped it wasn’t too noticeable. “I am Aislinn, and this is Rune.”
Wolf and raven stared at one another. Something passed between them, but she wasn’t quite sure what. With a little hop, the bird fluttered from Fionn’s shoulder to land atop Rune. More of the silent energy flowed.
Aislinn furled her eyebrows. “So, are they talking?”
Fionn drew back a couple of paces and stared hard at her. Feeling him gather power, she held up both her hands, palms facing outward. “Until a couple of days ago, I thought I was Mage and Seeker,” she explained. “I was, ah, on my way somewhere at the Old Ones’ behest when the wolf chose me. I tried to tell him I was no Hunter, but he insisted.” She shrugged. “I know it sounds odd, but my talents are still developing.”
“You speak true, though it makes little sense.” Fionn’s words sounded grudging. He kept a respectable distance between them and eyed her, as if she was a powder keg about to blow.
A corner of her mouth quirked upward. “How do you suppose it makes me feel? Part of me still misses being a teenager with parents in our house in Salt Lake. It took a while to get used to the magic I was supposed to have. To find out I have more—” she rolled her eyes “—is deucedly unnerving.”
“You look older than that.”
“Lost my dewy-eyed youth, huh?” She snorted. “That’s because I am older now. Twenty-two.”
“Youngster. I’m thirty.”
“So you had some sort of established life before—”
“Stop.” He held up a hand and trained his gaze on her. It spoke a warning, as clear as if the words had passed his lips.
She understood. One of the unwritten rules was never talking about the past. “Sorry.” She shifted gears. “You didn’t answer my question. About Rune and Bella.”
“Bond animals have their own network. If they do not know one another, they will know others who know someone in the other’s circle. They are comparing notes. And complaining about their bond mates. Though I’ve never gotten Bella to actually admit that.” He laughed, and she felt the tension bleed out of him.
“Do you Hunt alone? Or are there others like, ah, us nearby?” When she stumbled over the us, Aislinn realized she still didn’t see herself as a Hunter.
An awkward silence hovered before he answered her. “For now, I Hunt alone.” Moving alongside her, he draped an arm over her shoulders. “Come sit with me. We can share conversation, food—and perhaps other things as well over time.”
She slipped out from under his arm. Her flush from earlier had to be back in full force on her suddenly overheated face. “Now wait a minute,” she sputtered. “You’re being pretty presumptuous—”
He held up both hands and laughed. “No mas. I thought you might like to learn about your Hunter skills. That’s all.” He resettled his arm companionably around her shoulders.
The heat from his body felt comforting. His fingertips caressed her, light as butterfly wings. She felt need in him with a sharp, desperate edge to it, sexual, yet more than that, too. Questions bubbled up, but she didn’t ask any of them. All the humans who were left lived with loneliness. She thought about Travis and what he’d said about taking comfort when it was offered. Good advice, she realized, walking next to Fionn. Against her better judgment, she let herself enjoy the feel of his body where it brushed against hers.
They passed Rune and Bella. The animals were so deep in conversation that neither acknowledged their human. Fionn made a chirping noise, but the raven cawed so disapprovingly that he looked cowed.
“What was that all about?” Aislinn asked, curious.
“I asked her to come with me, and she told me to piss off.”
“Hmph. Are all bond animals temperamental?”
They reached a sheltered cove about a hundred yards down the lakeshore. He gestured for her to sit. “Only strong-minded animals seek the Hunter bond. So, I think the answer to your question is probably yes. Bella’s been my only bond mate. She’s certainly volatile, and the reason—” He broke off, looking uncomfortable.
Reason for what? Aislinn thought about Travis’s civet. The cat had seemed somewhat retiring, maybe because she’d never been included in conversations with it. Lots to learn here.
Aspens, their leafless branches twining together, grew thickly next to the shoreline. Sand and marsh grasses formed a rough beach. The two of them sat with their backs leaning against a sun-warmed rock. After his earlier familiarity, Fionn kept his hands to himself. She’d liked it when he touched her, but didn’t know how to ask him to do it again without him taking it wrong.
; He pulled some dried meat out of a pocket and handed it to her, along with a few withered blackberries. He hadn’t said anything after his last words, but his sharp-boned face had reddened. Perhaps he wasn’t used to taking comfort either. She smiled wryly at the thought. Everyone was lonely. And afraid. The person you started to care about might die soon. It was easier to keep that door shut and not care at all.
“You look about fifteen when you do that.”
“Do what?” She met his gaze. His eyes were the most incredible shade of blue, with long, dark lashes.
“Smile.”
I’d do just about anything to be fifteen again, before all this started. “Thanks.”
“Do you want to know about the Hunter magic?”
She nodded eagerly. “Yes, everything. But do you think we’re safe here? Right before you showed up, we diverted a flock of bats that had obviously been turned by the dark.”
He quirked an eyebrow at her. “Really? I thought they were on our side.”
Aislinn considered that and then realized she’d moved beyond expecting any species was immune to corruption. “Better not to have assumptions. False confidence means dead.”
He’d been leaning toward her and drew away, an odd look on his face. “You could freeze the tits off a boar, lady. If you think I’m wrong, there are kinder ways to tell me.”
Like a flash flood rising out of nowhere, anger ripped through her. She leapt to her feet and paced in an attempt to contain her rage. How could he be so naïve? Apparently, the last three years had been a hell of a lot better for him than they’d been for her, if he still expected kind. She recognized jealousy, and it made her feel ill. Aislinn tried to keep her mouth shut, but failed miserably.
Ann Gimpel Page 7
