Tarnished Journey: Historical Paranormal Romance (Soul Dance Book 4)

by Ann Gimpel

Stewart screwed his face into a grimace. “That did occur to me.” He took a measured breath. “What I came up with was this. Sometimes, when a thing is so terrible I canna bear to look at it, I take a wee break. Not that I expect what’s bothering me will change, but a bit of distance adds perspective. Sometimes I see more clearly after a few hours or days have passed, and the event I feared doesna look quite so devastating—”

  Meara waved him to silence. “You’d best hope the gods come to our aid once we reach Great Britain. And all the other magical creatures as well. A darkness bears down on us that’s so encompassing I can’t see its beginning or its end.”

  Elliott leaned closer, his features creased into a worried expression. “Why didn’t you summon Ilona and me before this?”

  The vulture shifter rolled eyes that still held a decidedly avian cast. “You weren’t listening. I was hoping time might lend perspective. Stewart understands well enough.”

  “But there must be things we could do to be better prepared,” Elliott broke in, but then clammed up fast. He must have remembered she was a first shifter and he a newly made one. Color rose, splotching his features. “Sorry. I was out of line. It’s hard to go from the top of the magical realm, where I used to be, to the bottom.”

  Ilona hurried to where they stood. Long, dark curls tumbled around her, and her gray eyes glistened with concern. She latched her gaze onto Meara. “Jamal told me we’re going to activate our seer gifts. Where do you want to do this?”

  “That’s part of the problem.” Meara thinned her lips to a straight line. “We’ll expend a lot of magic. So much, we could jeopardize the boat.”

  “Let me take care of that part,” Stewart said. “I can deflect your combined power afore it threatens our craft.”

  Yara’s unmistakable energy drew near. Shock vied with pleasure. Stewart didn’t mean to look her way, but he couldn’t help himself. Her hair hung in two plaits down the front of a green, woolen cloak. Dark circles etched beneath her eyes, and it didn’t appear she’d slept the previous night. His heart went out to her. She looked young and vulnerable and pushed beyond her depth.

  Had the magical book delivered a message similar to what Meara had seen in her vision? It made sense and might be what had kept Yara from her rest.

  He wanted to go to her, draw her close, and reassure her he’d take care of her, but it would be the wrong thing to do. He made a grab for his resolve to leave her be. If it had taken her better than twenty-four hours to gird herself to face him, he needed to be unfailingly proper. He’d treat her with the dignity and respect he’d afford any of them.

  Nothing more. Nothing less.

  She came to a halt next to Meara, avoiding making eye contact with him. “If you’re going to scry the future to determine what we face, you must include me,” she told the first shifter.

  Meara narrowed her eyes. “And why might that be? Your power is strong but untaught and untried.”

  Yara smiled wryly. “Is that a diplomatic way of telling me I’d be more of a liability than an asset?”

  “Something like that, but you didn’t answer my question.”

  Yara tossed her head back and squared her thin shoulders. The gesture tore at Stewart’s heart. She was frightened, but determined to not let it stop her from doing the right thing.

  “Ever since Rhiannon showed up here, the book has changed. It doesn’t wait for me to ask things anymore. It just starts glowing, and the pages rustle until they fall open to what it wants me to know.” Her nostrils flared. “I’m exhausted. I was up all night with it. Kept telling it to save the next revelation for today, but it was like it was excited to finally be free of goddess-only-knows what.”

  She shook her head. “Sorry, I’m rambling. The short answer is it told me you three”—she pointed at Elliott, Ilona, and Meara—“were going to look into the future. It made it abundantly clear I was to be part of that. Me and the book,” she clarified.

  “Mmph.” Meara sucked in a noisy breath. “Hard to say no to that. If I did, it might jinx our efforts. All right.” She nodded once. “The hold where the dead bodies were should do. The four of you will meet me there in half an hour. It will give me time to arrange the energy in that space.”

  “Arrange the energy?” Ilona furled a brow.

  Meara flapped both hands, clearly annoyed. “Goddess preserve me from new shifters. I’ll be clearing out anything that might interfere with our efforts.” Before anyone could question her further about anything, light flashed and she vanished.

  The corners of Elliott’s mouth twitched. “Guess she’s not used to having to answer to anyone about anything.”

  “Ye’d be correct,” Stewart replied. “See all of you verra soon. Take this span of time to empty your minds of aught that might get in the way.”

  “You said that for a reason.” Ilona angled her head. “What is it?”

  “Demons attacked us once. They’re sneaky. I havena felt their presence, but it doesna mean they’re not watching us. Do whatever ye can to purify yourselves. ’Tis what Meara is doing to the hold.”

  To reduce the temptation to talk with Yara, he made his way to Vreis and Aron. The young man’s eyes were wide. “I want to be there with the rest of you,” he announced. “Ilona needs me.”

  Stewart dropped a hand on his shoulder. “She needs to know ye’re safe with Vreis and Jamal. If everyone is in the hold, who will take care of the ship?”

  Aron still clutched the wheel. “I don’t really know anything about sailing, but I do know about magic, and—”

  “The hallmark of a good sailor is taking orders without question.” Stewart spoke over Aron. “Ye’re worried about your sister, but naught will happen to her.”

  “Promise?” Worry spilled from Aron’s eyes. Leftovers from the misery he’d endured in a concentration camp where vampires fed from him.

  “Aye, lad. I canna guarantee anyone’s safety over the long haul, but today’s endeavor willna harm any of us.”

  I hope.

  He turned his attention to Vreis. “Everything under control?”

  The other Druid nodded. “I know this stretch of sea well. I’m not expecting anything untoward betwixt here and Edinburgh. Cadr will be along soon enough to take his turn at the helm.”

  “About Edinburgh.” Stewart moved his hand from Aron’s shoulder. “Aim for the next decent place we could put in north of there. I doona want to have to deal with the port authorities in case someone reported this vessel stolen.”

  “Got it.” Vreis rolled his eyes. “Ashamed I dinna think of that myself.”

  “Ye will remain here.” Stewart focused his words at Aron and anchored his command with a small spell.

  “Yes, I will.” Aron snapped off a sloppy approximation of a salute that made Stewart smile.

  He turned and made his way to the stairs leading below decks. Jamal passed him near the top of them. “Thanks for your kindness to Aron,” he murmured low.

  “No thanks needed,” Stewart replied. “The boy is a treasure.”

  “He scarcely sees himself as a boy, which is part of the problem.” Jamal shrugged. “But he’s bright and coming into his own magically. I’m more inclined to push him a bit than remind him of his youth and inexperience.”

  “Wise choice.” Stewart made his way down the steep stairs to the lowest level. He deployed power, pushing, sensing, probing for anything wicked that might have taken up residence while they weren’t looking.

  Not finding anything amiss, he strode to the small room where everyone else had gathered.

  Meara gestured him to a spot in the circle opposite her, and he squatted balancing on his haunches. A large basin of seawater sat between them, its surface rocking with the motion of the ship. Ilona and Elliott sat across from each other.

  “Where do you want me?” Yara stood near Meara, the book clasped between her hands. She still hadn’t so much as spared a glance Stewart’s way. Her indifference burned, but they had bigger things to worry about than
his bruised feelings.

  “I’ve been trying to figure that out,” Meara replied. “This circle is balanced. If I add you, it won’t be.”

  “Odd numbers hold power.” Stewart kept his voice soft, so Meara wouldn’t think he was contradicting her. “Ye’d planned to proceed without me originally, which would have left ye three.”

  Meara glared at him before shutting her eyes for a moment. When she opened them, they were her vulture’s eyes, feral and untamed. “You and that book of yours will be next to Stewart, directly across from me,” she told Yara.

  A look Stewart couldn’t decipher washed across Yara’s face, but she didn’t argue, just walked around the circle and crouched next to him, laying the book in front of her.

  A glowing nimbus surrounded it, and it opened, pages turning on their own until it settled to a particular spot.

  “What does it say?” Meara asked, the words strained as if it pained her to accept magic that wasn’t of her own making.

  “That you chose well and we should begin,” Yara replied.

  “Nice to have its permission,” Meara muttered acidly and began to chant.

  Elliott and Ilona joined in, and the surface of the basin turned clear as glass, no longer at the mercy of the rocking boat.

  Stewart wasn’t certain if he should look at the basin. He’d never been a seer, and he didn’t want his particular brand of power to muck up their efforts. Instead, he focused on building a container around the five of them. Once he had the basic structure, he strengthened it doing his best to ensure nothing from Meara’s incantation could leak through and threaten the ship’s integrity.

  He was painfully aware of Yara’s presence next to him. Her vanilla-pine scent kindled desire and an ache that pierced him through and through. Why had the goddess seen fit to place her in his path only to have her spurn him?

  Questions like that had no answers.

  The seers’ chanting gained intensity, and the water in the basin developed an ominous black tinge. His spell started to unravel about the edges, and he shored it up. Golden darts flew from Yara’s outstretched hands securing places resistant to his efforts.

  He glanced sidelong at her only to catch her looking away. That she’d made any kind of eye contact pleased him, but he chided himself for being pathetic and a fool. She probably needed a visual to guide her efforts and gauge the type of magic he was using.

  “This will take all of us. Something bad is coming. I feel it hovering, and they’re helpless right now.” Yara jerked her chin toward Elliott, Ilona, and Meara. Their eyes were shut, hands extended over an increasingly restive basin. Water slopped over the edges, and it had turned almost entirely black.

  Stewart felt wickedness bearing down on them too. The air grew thick and stale until drawing breath took effort.

  Meara jumped to her feet. Power sheeted from her, and her eyes snapped open as she exhorted the water to yield its secrets. Instead, it rose in a black vortex spinning from basin to ceiling. An ominous booming sound, followed by high-pitched squealing, pounded against Stewart’s ears and twisted his gut into a knot of tension.

  Elliott and Ilona were standing now too. The seers still did their damnedest to shape the water to their will, but it had leapt its bounds and escaped any semblance of control.

  Stewart rocketed upright, followed by Yara.

  Meara switched tactics, chanting an incantation to vanquish evil. Apparently, she’d given up on wringing information from the swirling maelstrom. The tower of black water whirled so fast it showered him with noxious smelling drops that burned where they landed.

  Stewart reached for Yara’s hands. She grasped his outstretched fingers without question, and he felt a jolt as the contact increased his power tenfold. Touching Yara added enough magic to strip away illusion, and everything driving the darkness slammed into him. He didn’t need to be a seer to see dancing, laughing demons cavorting with vampires. Men in SS uniforms darted in and out of the evil creatures’ revelry, laughing as if they’d been handed the world on a sulfur-stained platter.

  He blinked hard, but the vision remained stenciled into his brain. No matter what happened, that scene would stay with him for the rest of his days.

  Stewart battled incredulity and horror. It was bad enough when it had just been vampires and Nazis. Although he’d suspected demons had joined the alliance, the certainty of them adding their power to the mix was appalling. He concentrated on maintaining the barrier he’d erected. The book glowed crimson at his feet, adding its own brand of enchantment to their efforts.

  Yara tightened her grip on him and when he looked at her, tears leaked from her eyes.

  “We canna give up, lass.”

  “I know. It’s horrible, though. So much worse than…” She shook her head.

  Meara’s voice rose to a screech, and the tower of water crashed to the deck, sloshing harmlessly around their feet.

  “Fuck!” Elliott managed through panting breaths.

  “Double that from me,” Ilona gasped in a thin, strained voice. She inhaled in a series of jagged breaths and focused her next words on Meara. “Was that what you saw?”

  Meara nodded. She looked as rattled as Stewart had ever seen her. “Demons aren’t just flirting with being part of this anymore. They’ve signed on as full partners.” She snorted derisively. “In their minds, they likely see themselves as leading the charge.”

  “Someone needs to let Hitler in on that secret.” Elliott screwed his face into a grimace.

  Stewart looked right at Meara. “There’s more.”

  She swallowed visibly. “Yes, there is. This time around was far worse than in my previous trance state. We came very close to losing control of the gateway.”

  “What exactly does that mean?” Yara asked. She let go of him, bent, and picked up the book, holding it tight against her chest.

  “Whenever ye summon vision states,” Stewart answered to spare Meara the trouble, “ye open a portal to the thing ye’re gathering information about. If ye canna control the gateway, whatever is on the other side can force its way through.”

  Color drained from Yara’s face, leaving her skin the shade of old ivory.

  Meara clapped her hands together three times. “Focus. We can’t afford to lose our way in the face of the unthinkable.”

  “It is better for us to know what we face,” Ilona said, but she didn’t sound convinced.

  “I have to let Tairin know,” Elliott muttered. “Won’t be much of a surprise to her since she fought Grigori once before.”

  “Hold on for a moment.” Meara’s voice rang with command. “Everyone needs to know we will face an army of darkness, and not too long after we set foot on Scottish soil. I was able to glean that much before the water got away from me.”

  “We can’t take them on by ourselves,” Elliott protested.

  “We may not have a choice,” Ilona countered. “There’s nowhere for us to run to.”

  “This journey is my doing.” Stewart stood straighter. “I will gather what allies I can to our side after we make land.”

  “Best be quick about it,” Meara said. She moved until she stood in front of him. “This isn’t happening because you pushed us to cross the North Sea. It would have happened no matter where we were.”

  “Ye canna know that,” he protested.

  “Oh yes, I can,” she retorted. “Every single vision I’ve summoned has contained nothing but blackness. There’s no escaping it. Not here. Not in Germany. Not across the ocean in the States. When the Reich came into being, human energy fueled nascent evil. Hell’s denizens grew reckless feeding on chaos and anarchy. It’s why Grigori was able to penetrate Hell’s veil and why vampires are suddenly in our midst after centuries of keeping themselves well-hidden from human notice.”

  She bent and swiped her index finger in a long stripe across the wet deck. “We must build a line and hold it. If we fail—” She shook her head, either unwilling or unable to flesh out her line of thought with more w
ords. “We will meet at first light and decide how our initial hours ashore will unfold.”

  Meara stalked out of the hold followed by Elliott and Ilona, who looked shaken to their cores.

  Yara started after them, but Stewart said, “Thank you for trusting me when I held out my hands.”

  She stopped walking and turned her gaze on him. Her eyes held a haunted, otherworldly aspect. “The book told me—”

  “Nay, lass. Ye joined your magic with mine unstintingly. No book could have managed that. Ye held nothing back.”

  Her harsh expression crumpled, and she fled out the door but not before he saw the same longing he wrestled with stamped into her features.

  Cursing himself for not leaving well enough alone, Stewart bolted after her. He yearned for her and wouldn’t rest until he’d either smoothed over their earlier argument—or she told him to go to hell.

  The world might be teetering on the edge of annihilation, but he’d take whatever time he could carve out with Yara. She was his mate. The woman he’d waited lifetimes for.

  She might not agree, but he had to find out for certain.

  Chapter 14

  Yara ran out of the hold because if she didn’t, she’d throw herself into Stewart’s arms. She’d spent the last day not only wrestling with the book, but going back and forth about her feelings for the tall, spare Scot with his red hair and penetrating eyes. Tairin had dropped by to talk twice more, but Yara changed the subject when she mentioned Stewart. The shifter meant well, but this was one decision Yara had to make by herself. Other’s opinions would only cloud things.

  She bit down hard on her lower lip.

  Apparently, she wasn’t as ambivalent as she thought. When Stewart had extended his hands intent on joining their magic, she dove in headfirst, delighted to have a viable excuse to touch him. Their power harmonized so well it stunned her. If she inhaled, she could still smell the clean scent of his magic: ocean tang mingled with gorse and heather. Exactly how she imagined the Highlands would smell, even though she’d never been there.

  Footsteps pounded behind her. She didn’t have to turn around to know it was him. They’d run out of words in the hold, and only one reason remained for him to come after her. He’d made his feelings clear enough. Either she gave them a chance—or she kicked the door closed once and for all.