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

by Ann Gimpel

  “Times will be hard once we make land, but it’s as if the world’s against us even getting that far,” Yara murmured.

  “Nay, lassie. The Fates gave us exactly what we needed. Time to love one another. All the rest will come together exactly as it should.”

  “I hope so.” She stopped shy of voicing her concerns about facing vampires, demons, and the angry owners of the gold that had been hidden aboard this ship.

  He pulled himself from her embrace and stood, dressing quickly. The complex wrap of the tartan looked easy when he transformed it from a length of wool to a garment with a snap of his wrists. “Remain here as long as ye like.”

  Unspoken endearments shone from his eyes before he turned and slipped from the cabin.

  Unlike her cabin, this bunk had a blanket, one of the ones they’d brought from the truck. Yara pulled it to her chin and wrapped her arms around herself. She felt different, changed in a way she didn’t fully understand. Part of her was frantic because maybe she’d ceded a small piece of her freedom, but the other parts didn’t care.

  Stewart was amazing. Incredible. Her future. Her everything.

  She smothered a snort and told herself to get a grip. It was all the magic. She was still in its thrall.

  Yes. That had to be it. Just because she’d shared her body didn’t mean she’d lost her ability to function as an independent person.

  The ship’s motion intensified, and she tossed the blanket aside and reached for her clothes. If they were under some variety of supernatural attack, she should be there helping, not luxuriating in the warm afterglow from lovemaking.

  Annoyed with herself for her self-indulgence, she set herself to rights and headed for the helm. Stewart was one thing, but she’d damn well better keep her eye on the bigger picture. The others needed her magic, and she had no intention of ending up at the bottom of the North Sea.

  Chapter 15

  Stewart hurried up the single flight separating his cabin from the main deck. Loving Yara held a rightness that made him even more certain she was his fated one. The woman the universe had been holding in abeyance all these years, but she was well worth the wait. Her beauty stole his breath. Not only her physical attributes, but her pure, shining spirit. He’d joined his soul to hers when they made love, given her a piece of himself and taken a wee bit of her in return.

  They were joined now. As surely as if the gods had blessed their union. Did she know?

  He smiled wryly. How could she? She wasn’t steeped in Celtic lore, which meant he’d have to find a way to tell her. Not that she couldn’t still walk away, but if she did he’d long for her for the rest of his days.

  Spray slapped his face, and the deck sloshed with sea water. Darkness reigned, and he extended power to figure out what they faced. Land was close, so near he could smell the tang of growing things. To be so close to their goal and have it ripped out of their hands was unthinkable.

  Vreis and Cadr bent over the wheel, holding a course. Barely. The boat canted alarmingly, its sails so full of wind it was a wonder they didn’t split. Stewart reached the other Druids. “We need to bring the canvas down,” he shouted over the howl of the storm.

  Vreis nodded, his expression carved into forbidding lines. “Aye we thought the same, but this rogue wind just cut hours off our journey. We hoped if we could make the lee of the eastern side of the Isles, ’twould become more manageable. That hasna happened yet, though, and I agree running under full sail isna wise.”

  As if they knew they were a topic of conversation, the sails creaked and groaned. They hadn’t been designed for hurricane force winds. “Sails. Now. Afore the mainsail shreds,” Stewart repeated, still testing the raging waters with his magic. Try as he might, he couldn’t sense fell power afoot. Only bad weather. The North Sea was notorious for storms that blew up out of nowhere.

  He turned his attention to Cadr. “Why did ye believe this storm is unnatural?”

  Cadr strained to hold the wheel steady. “Why else? I felt the thrum of something. Demons or Manandan or something that shouldna have been present. If I hadna been paying attention, though, I’d have missed it. ’Twas here and gone that fast. I sent Aron below to stay with his sister. The boy dinna want to leave, but there was no choice.”

  “Did ye feel it?” Stewart asked Vreis.

  “Och aye, that I did. Damn it! ’Tis back again. Barbed needles driving into me from odd angles. It comes and goes, never remaining long enough for me to identify it.”

  Barbed needles certainly had the feel of demons’ dark enchantment, and Stewart girded himself to do battle with the bastards again. He’d do damn near anything to ensure Yara made shore safely.

  The ship leaned another notch or two, so low the edge of the sail trailed in the water. Dark magic pinged against Stewart’s extended senses, harsh and prickly, but like Vreis had described, it left as suddenly as it had arrived.

  What the fuck was it? He needed more than a few seconds’ snippet to determine how to annihilate it. If he summoned a spell to vanquish demons, and that wasn’t what they faced, it could backfire badly.

  Jamal and Gregor fought their way across the heaving deck, sloshing through water cascading over it. Meara caught up with them, her long, soaked hair plastered against her body.

  “What do you need us to do?” Jamal asked.

  Meara ignored him. “What the hell happened?” she demanded, staring at Stewart. “Your job was making certain our magic didn’t escape the confines of the hold.”

  Understanding hit him like a fist to his gut. The magic Cadr and Vreis sensed had to be the dark power that had formed the maelstrom below decks. He called magic like a madman, chanting for all he was worth. If Meara was right, and she likely was, he could fix this.

  Vreis jumped in, helping anchor Stewart’s incantation.

  Meara rolled her avian eyes and hissed, not unlike her vulture would have.

  Stewart shaped air to quell the wind. When his first effort didn’t make any difference, he tried again, altering the composition of his casting.

  Vreis sang a few notes to mix earth into their working. Not just any earth. Vreis called for grave dirt. It would lure their opponent close enough to make a difference.

  Tension settled between Stewart’s shoulders feeling like Sisyphus’s rock must have. He understood why Vreis altered things. It was a brilliant move—if it worked. If it didn’t, the gateway he’d just blown open to better disable dark energy could suck them into its maw.

  “Steady,” he exhorted and redirected the flow of his magic to help Vreis.

  Brightness hurried toward him. He didn’t see it so much as feel it in the depths of his being.

  Yara.

  He wanted to yell at her to go back to his cabin and shroud herself in spells, but he couldn’t redirect an angstrom of attention away from his casting. They’d reached a critical juncture.

  Meara’s unique energy threaded itself between his and Vreis’s, strengthening their efforts. She and Jamal and Gregor were talking, but he had no idea what they’d said. His third ear was tuned to his magic, shutting out everything else.

  Yara didn’t say a word. She didn’t ask questions, which was just as well since he couldn’t have answered them anyway. Instead, she wrapped a hand around his upper arm. Power surged into him, augmenting his own by a factor of a hundred or better.

  Earth magic was where she lived. It turned Vreis’s gambit into a sure thing. Colors sheeted around them. Blues, greens, and golds. Lured by grave dirt, demons rushed forward, surrounded by black-tipped flames. Laughing, snarling, taunting, they had no idea what they’d just lumbered into.

  “Hold,” Stewart yelled. “Let them come closer. Closer still.” He waited, power balanced between his hands until half a dozen demons were so close their burned sulfur stench choked him.

  Adrenaline hummed along his nerves and left a metallic taste coating his tongue. Vreis, Jamal, Meara, and the others formed a tight line with him and Yara at its center. He gathered e
veryone’s power, aiming for a lethal mass, but marshaling it into a cohesive whole was worse than directing lightning to do his bidding. The magic held a mesmerizing quality and had a will all its own.

  “Give me more!” he shrieked. “Doona hold back.” Working by instinct, Stewart focused earth magic, let it use him for a vessel as it expanded into a deadly mass.

  Yara tightened her hold on his upper arm. “Let go.” She screamed the words into his mind. “Before it turns on us.”

  He screeched die in Gaelic three times. Faigh bás, Faigh bás. Faigh bás. And loosed their assembled magic. The air caught fire. The demons weren’t laughing anymore. They clawed for purchase as a mountain of rocks and dirt bore down on them, driving them back into the Hell-spawned hole Stewart had ripped open.

  He staggered, almost fell to his knees, but didn’t abandon his casting until the chasm was sealed, vanishing into gray-black mist.

  “Nice work. I’ll take it from here, not that there’s much more to be done.” Meara stepped in front of him, power flaring from her outstretched hands.

  The wind died down to a dull roar, and the ship returned to its normal sailing position. Thank all the gods the canvas was unharmed. They didn’t have an extra mainsail. No one had expected this vessel to ever leave port; they’d been far more focused on plague-ridden bodies and purloined gold.

  Stewart was breathing as if he’d just run a race. “Thank you,” he told Yara. “Goddess only knows what might have happened if ye’d not given me that push to loose our power.”

  She shrugged. “Our combined power had reached maximum velocity, but it felt unruly, like it might turn on us if we didn’t give it free rein. What happened? Is everything all right now?”

  “For the moment, lass.” He gulped more air. “When that much power is drawn together—particularly from disparate sources—it does what it wants. I needed the boost ye provided since it damn near mesmerized me.”

  A dismayed look crossed her face. “Not exactly the answer I’d hoped for.”

  He screwed his mouth into a grimace. “Aye, but ’tis the truth. Magic is a harsh mistress. Ye must keep hold of the upper hand—no matter what the cost.”

  “What if I hadn’t said anything?”

  He chuckled wryly. “Meara would have pecked my eyes out.”

  She let go of him, and it took strength of mind not to grab her hand and put it back. He craved her touch, far more than was good for either of them. They’d won the latest skirmish by the narrowest of margins.

  Meara stalked over to them. “The darkness we thought we contained in the hold leaked out. Not all of it, or the ship would have foundered, but enough fell energy got loose to put out a cry for reinforcements.”

  The first shifter made a disgusted snorting noise. “Good you got a jump on this,” she told Stewart. “It was spiraling out of control fast.”

  He inhaled sharply. “If ye hadna recognized it for what it was, I’m not sure Vreis and I would have settled on the proper spell to defeat it.”

  “Ye picked the spell,” Vreis said. “I just added magic and a wee twist to things.” He shifted his gaze to Yara. “Have ye always had this level of magical ability?”

  She looked away. “More or less, except I didn’t do anything beyond lending my magic to your spell.”

  Cadr relaxed his death grip on the wheel and whistled. “I wasna even part of the spell, and I felt shockwaves from where I stood. Goddess help us if anything ever stands in your way, woman. Ye’ll flatten the world if ye’re not careful.”

  A small smile played about Yara’s mouth, and she shook her head. “You’re giving me far too much credit, I fear.”

  Stewart glanced at a sky where stars were starting to show through the clouds. “How long afore we’re abreast of Kirkcaldy? ’Tis as good a location as any other.”

  “Soon,” Cadr replied. “That bitch of a storm made this bucket of bolts sit up and fly.”

  “Soon as in before it’s light?” Meara spoke up.

  “Aye,” Vreis concurred. “Mayhap another hour. Do ye still plan to drop anchor and use the life rafts to row ashore?”

  Stewart opened his mouth to say nothing had changed, but Meara beat him to it. “We’ll pull up to a dock,” she said, “and scatter magic like yesterday’s blossoms to wipe people’s memories that they’ve ever seen us. By the time the spells wear off, we’ll be long gone.”

  “By that token, we could’ve landed in Edinburgh,” Jamal muttered.

  “Nay,” Stewart said. “’Tis heavily guarded. Far more so than Kirkcaldy.” He angled his gaze at Meara. “Ye wanted to meet with everyone at first light. Correct?”

  “That meeting must occur right now.” She made shooing motions at Jamal and Gregor. “Go get everyone. Wake them if need be. Once everyone is here, we’ll figure out the next part.”

  The two shifters scooted away, moving fast.

  “Do ye have a plan?” Stewart asked Meara without preamble. The tone of his question was blunt, but he needed to know.

  “Not exactly. You know Scotland far better than I, but the quicker we get to where magic burns brightest, the better our chances will be.”

  “So long as we’re sprinkling magic about—in clear violation of the compact betwixt our kind and humans,” Stewart said. “My suggestion is we borrow enough vehicles to beat a path to Fort William.”

  “How long will it take to drive there?” Yara asked.

  “Depends on the kinds of vehicles, but not more than three or four hours. We could abandon them outside the town and cover the last bit on foot.

  “Last bit to where?” Vreis asked.

  “Och, and that might help,” Stewart muttered. “My thought was to scoot up the track to the top of Ben Nevis, gathering the little folk as we go. The mountain concentrates power, and ’tis a beacon of hope for our kind. I’ll do everything in my power to entice a god or two to our side as well.”

  Cadr drew his brows into a thick line. “I like it. ’Tis a defensible position—most of the time.”

  “What changes?” Yara asked.

  “Visibility,” Stewart replied. “Betimes thick fogs obscure everything, but ’tis a mixed curse. If we canna see our enemies, neither can they pinpoint our location. An intricate cave system leads deep into the mountain. If we’re sore pressed, it will provide shelter and an escape route.”

  He stopped there. No telling who might be drifting in the ether listening in on them. Just because the demons had been forced to stop chivvying the ship didn’t mean they’d left.

  Shifters and Romani streamed toward them. An almost full moon joined the stars, illuminating everyone in a pale, golden glow. Perhaps Arianrhod looked down from Caer Sidi and was offering her blessings. Stewart mouthed a silent prayer to the virgin goddess who controlled both moon and tides.

  Elliott and Tairin came last with Michael leaning heavily on both of them. It would take more than a hand span of hours for him to recover. As if he gleaned the direction of Stewart’s thoughts, he looked right at him.

  “Don’t waste a moment worrying about me. I’ll keep up. Somehow.”

  Meara circled the group, probably making certain everyone was accounted for. Seemingly satisfied, she strode to Stewart’s side and addressed everyone in a clear, ringing voice. “This next part will go quickly. Be ready to leave the ship as soon as we tie up at the dock. That means making certain you have at least half a dozen gold pieces. More if you’re comfortable carrying them. If there’s aught else aboard you believe would be useful, by all means, bring it along so long as it’s easily portable.” She glanced at Stewart.

  He smothered a snort. She was going to let him do the dirty work. He took a deep breath and blew it out. “Doona stint on magic when ye leave this vessel. We must ensure no one either notices or remembers ever having seen us.”

  “But that’s forbidden,” Ilona protested. “We can’t use magic to delude humans.”

  He leveled his gaze at her. “And ye never used so much as a wee, tiny bit t
o coax a gadjo to part with one more coin?”

  Color stained her face, obvious in the moonlight, and she tossed her head. “Never mind.”

  “Does anyone else have any reservations?” Stewart let his gaze settle on each person in turn. “If so, speak up now.”

  No one said a word, so he went on. “We will put as much distance as we can betwixt us and the docks as fast as we can. Those of you who can drive, hunt for vehicles that will be easy to steal and will blend in. Neutral colors, common brands. Keep scattering magic.

  “No one will see or remember us if we join our magic and make certain to keep it flowing. Once we’re all in cars, we will head west toward Stirling, and thence northwest to Fort William.”

  “What if we need fuel?” Jamal asked.

  “Plan ahead,” Meara cut in. “Switch cars if yours is close to running out. We can’t risk stopping for petrol and trying to pay for it with gold coins that dropped out of use centuries ago. Or Reichsmarks that scream we’re from Germany.”

  “An old inn marks the base of the trail up Ben Nevis,” Stewart said. “We will meet near there. Telepathy should suffice to keep track of where all of us are while we’re en route.” He swallowed hard. “If ye’re set upon, spare nothing. If ye canna immobilize whomever stands in your way with magic, kill them.”

  Solemn nods met his gaze, along with murmurs of assent.

  Meara clapped her hands smartly together. “Ready yourselves. I want this ship empty within minutes of our arrival.”

  “Once everyone has what coins they want,” Jamal said, “Gregor and I will pile the remainder into casks and drop them into the sea.” He glanced at Stewart for affirmation.

  “Aye, ’tis still the soundest course. That way it willna be there for whomever turns this ship inside out once they discover its whereabouts.”

  The deck cleared fast until only Cadr, Vreis, Yara, and Meara stood ringed around him. “Ye do realize all that expended magic will draw other magical creatures like a lodestone,” Vreis muttered.

  “Of course, I do,” Meara snapped. “I don’t see any other options. If you’ve a better idea, out with it.”