The Wild Rites Saga Omnibus 01 to 04

by Anna McIlwraith

  Looking away from the mark in her hand, Emma refused to acknowledge the tiny voice at the back of her mind whispering that she did belong to Telly, that the mark was proof.

  Goddamn ancients, she thought with sudden vehemence. Would it kill them to talk to her for once, maybe explain some stuff?

  She stood up, dusting salt and peanut crumbs from her bare thighs, needing to stretch her legs. Burn off some frustration. They still had another four hours in the air, and although Seshua’s private jet made the experience comfortable, she still hated to —

  “Oof!” She’d turned around without looking and walked straight into Red Sun. His hand closed around her upper arm to steady her, his touch warm and his skin rough, and the reaction was instant: heat rushed into the cradle of her hips at the first scent of leather and dry pine needles, a hard wave of arousal crashing over her and turning her knees to jelly. An embarrassing sound caught at the back of her throat, and she locked it down and looked up into Red’s face and gave him her best, most normal smile.

  “Sorry,” she said, keeping her voice even and light. “Wasn’t looking where I was going.”

  He let go of her, leaving her a little colder. “It’s okay, princess.” His voice was rough and throaty, and it did wicked things to Emma. He tilted his grizzled face down to peer into her eyes. “Where were you going?”

  For a second, Red’s many facial scars caught her attention, their leathery, silvered textures turning his face to a crosshatched patchwork beneath the red-blond stubble of his beard. His eyes were a deep, mahogany brown, and the expectant look in them saved her — she remembered he’d asked her a question.

  “Just need to move around,” she said, shoving a hand through her hair when her fingers itched to reach out and touch the big man. “Restless. Don’t much like flying. Kinda wish I could do what you do and just, y’know.” She wiggled her fingers in the air. “Abracadabra.”

  He blinked down at her and then threw his head back and laughed until he cried.

  Red Sun, aside from being mysteriously cursed and mysteriously missing his right arm, could also mysteriously dematerialize at will. The catch was, only two passengers could Travel with him, so he took the plane with the rest of Emma’s guard and probably felt like a man with a Lamborghini would taking the bus. Also, y’know, he wasn’t her chauffeur — he was Telly’s friend, and that was pretty much all Emma knew about him.

  That and he found her awfully funny. By the time he’d calmed down and was wiping tears from his eyes, still grinning, Emma was smiling too. Even if she was also clenching her teeth against the insistent drumbeat of unnatural lust that pulsed through her and throbbed in every sensitive place she possessed.

  Determined not to let it show, she cleared her throat and leaned against an aisle seat. “Red, can I ask you something?”

  Red’s brows popped up, and those warm mahogany eyes focused on her more sharply. “You can ask.”

  Yeah, that look in his eyes told her this was pointless. She wanted to scowl at him, but it was hard to be annoyed at a man when you were trying to resist the inexplicable urge to climb him like a tree. Red’s curse was yet another thing everyone was painfully closed lipped about, but at least that, Emma understood — she didn’t exactly want to talk about the fact that getting within a six foot radius of the big one-armed Scot made her feel like she was about to come in her pants, either.

  He’d been at the ranch since before they went to Egypt, and although she’d probably never get used to the physical effect he had on her — and anyone else capable of being attracted to him — she liked him. He was funny and kind and didn’t seem to bear a grudge against the world for the curse that had likely destroyed any chance he had of finding true love, or any meaningful intimate connection really; when anyone of the right sexual orientation was automatically compelled to lust after you, how could you ever know their feelings were genuine?

  How could you trust them?

  Emma shook her head. “Never mind. Enjoy the rest of the trip, Red.”

  She went to turn away, and he stopped her with one knuckle under her chin, turning her to face him as her breath caught. “Emma,” he said quietly, letting go of her. “I said you can ask.”

  Her voice came out shaky but she pretended she wasn’t near panting from his touch and spoke anyway. “It’s about Telly and Alexi.”

  Both of them noticed several heads come up along the aisles.

  “Look,” Red said, dropping his voice and scratching his shadowed jaw with the heel of his huge hand. “If the source of the bad blood between those two were common knowledge, then I could tell you. But it’s not.” He gave her a pained smile. “It’s not my story to tell, sweetheart.”

  “Of course it’s not,” Emma said with a sigh.

  Red’s voice was gentle. “Ask Telly yourself.”

  Now Emma was annoyed. “I already did.”

  Red grunted. “Try again. Choose your moment.” His deep brown eyes flashed with something hard and bright for a moment, but then he smiled. A scar cut a deep groove from the corner of his right nostril to the seam of his lips, and should have made the smile ugly, but Emma was used to it — and the look in his eyes was certainly nowhere close to ugly. “I need a drink,” he said. “Join me?”

  Emma blinked, mouth gone dry. “Uh, maybe another time.”

  He nodded like he’d already known she was going to refuse, and went to move past her, angling his body so his one bare arm wouldn’t brush hers. His smile was still in place, but the light in his eyes was gone.

  She blew her breath out through her cheeks. “Y’know what?” He turned, the look on his face guarded. “What the hell, let’s have a drink.” She gave him her best smile, and felt a thrill that had more to do with friendship than it did with lust when the shadows lifted from his eyes.

  6

  Two cars were waiting in the small, empty parking lot by the time the jet touched down at Black Pine airfield, one black Jeep and a beatup white pickup truck, shimmering in the heat rising from the tarmac. As Emma and Fern descended the jet’s stairs, Anton climbed out of the white truck, loose curls damp from sweat, gleaming almost black in the sun and obscuring his eyes. A white t-shirt hugged his perfect chest, sleeves rolled up over well defined shoulders. His blue jeans slouched low on a flat, narrow waist. In short, he was every girl’s wildest dream, and he was coming her way.

  So why did she feel like running in the opposite direction?

  The mark on her right hand gave a faint, warm tremor; not sleeping but dozing. Not alive — Emma wasn’t truly threatened — but waiting.

  Not for the first time, Emma wondered if all shapechangers were ridiculously good looking, or if it was just every single one that she’d ever met. Because seriously, what the hell.

  Before she could take off, Anton reached her. His brilliant green eyes drank her in as he leaned down, too close, and plucked her backpack from her fingers. Emma caught the trace scent of sweat, skin and cologne — a refreshingly human scent, even if it was tinged with a little something more, something alive and electric.

  He stepped back and smiled. “Seshua called last night to say you’d be back early.” He looked relaxed, but his eyes were full of questions. “How was it?”

  Felani shoved past them. “Terrible!” Her coppery hair whipped about her shoulders in the light breeze, looking as agitated as she sounded. She shot a dark look over her shoulder at Anton. “We’re going to Russia. Augh .” A handful of the other maidens poured out of the jet, but headed for the cargo hatch, readying their loot to be loaded into the trucks.

  Anton’s lazy smile gave way to a scowl, green eyes filling with shadows. “You’re what?”

  Emma groaned and moved to follow Felani. “I’ll explain later.”

  Anton put a hand on her shoulder, the skin of his palm rough and warm. “How about now?”

  Emma looked up at him, unsure how to react. She hadn’t been treated to this demanding version of Anton for a few weeks. But then, life ha
d been blissfully free of danger and intrigue for a few weeks, too. She was too surprised for the mark to flare to life on her hand; not intimidated, just annoyed.

  Red Sun saved her. He clapped his hand on Anton’s back and nearly bowled him over. “Come on, my friend, let’s get these trucks loaded and get the fuck out of this heat. There’s more to the news than just an upcoming visit to the Mother Country.” Laughing, he managed to drag Anton away, short blonde hair bristling in the sunshine like the pelt of a lion.

  Now there was a theory — lion. Hell, guessing Red Sun’s beast was about as solvable a mystery as how to deal with the fricking men in her life.

  Fern was sympathetic in his own way. You know how Seshua said you could choose whoever you like to go to Russia with you?

  Emma headed for the cars without bothering to look at him. I’m not taking Anton to Russia just to avoid hurting his feelings.

  Fern caught up, Ashai and Teremun with him. The jackals moved to flank her, and Fern had to shove in between Emma and Teremun. “Diplomacy, Em. That’s what it’s all about.”

  Teremun gave him a strange look. Emma clenched her jaw and kept on trudging for the trucks. Diplomacy is going to drive me crazy.

  Fern flooded her mind with bittersweet compassion, like cinnamon candy tinged with the salty echo of regret. Only if one of us doesn’t do it first.

  It didn’t take long to load the trucks, even though half the cargo was heavy weaponry — the airfield staff had all been lightly hypnotized, and would wake up when Emma and the loaded trucks were all long gone.

  Most adult shapechangers could use mind tricks on humans to some degree; Anton was talented for his age, which was well within normal human bounds, and Andres, the big Mayan jaguar guard who’d driven the other car was at least five hundred years old, so he could probably make an entire football field full of humans dance like crazy chickens and not break a sweat.

  Well, perhaps not a football field full. More like a room full.

  Andres flashed Emma a grin full of big white teeth, stark in his brown face, before climbing behind the wheel of the Jeep and rolling out for the ranch. Emma followed in the white truck with Anton at the wheel, Red and Felani in the front seats, and Fern, Teremun, and the maidens Tarissa and Tikira jammed on everyone’s laps in the back. The drive to the secluded ranch that backed onto California mountain woods wasn’t long, but with the awkward silence in the truck, it seemed the trip would be interminable.

  Anton took the hint from Red and didn’t ask again about Russia, but thankfully he had some news of his own. “Selena’s here. She arrived early this morning.”

  Red Sun grunted his surprise. “Thought she wouldn’t be here for a couple of days.”

  Emma leaned forward between the front seats, anchoring herself with a hand wrapped around Fern’s knee. “Does she know anything else about Rain’s pack? Has she spoken to him, gotten anything out of him?” The orphan wolf’s origins were a total mystery; he wouldn’t breathe a word to anyone, not about where he came from or what happened to his pack.

  “He hasn’t said anything, as usual, but he didn’t need to.” Anton paused to turn onto the main highway. “Selena recognizes him.”

  “She what? ” Emma gave Fern’s knee a squeeze.

  “Don’t get too excited,” Anton said. “She doesn’t recognize him personally. And what she had to say about him wasn’t good. I’ll let her explain the rest.”

  Emma slumped back in her seat, confused and disappointed — which was probably how Anton felt when they’d told him Emma had to go to Russia. Emma hoped he was enjoying his cheap vengeance — and that he wouldn’t continue to take it out on her in their training sessions. She could handle a little petty emotional politics, but a ballbusting workout on the crash mat with ankle weights was a whole different story.

  So, there was good news about Rain, and bad. Emma dreaded what Selena had to say — that they were harboring a young but vicious crazed psychopath, perhaps, or maybe just that Rain would wither away and die without contact from his pack and without anyone to cling to, save for the man who’d saved him and taken him in. If only he’d talk about it — but most days, it seemed he couldn’t.

  Traumatized in some profound way, Rain had been found by a human mechanic who lived and worked in Black Pine. Zachariah Matheson discovered him wandering, scrounging for food on both two feet and four, and discovered what he was — and miraculously kept the secret until Rain ran straight into a bear trap, and a chance encounter with Emma and her entourage made him risk asking for their help.

  Emma was glad Zach had come to her for help, but so far, all she’d been able to do was patch up Rain’s physical wounds — his emotional ones were beyond her. He spoke to Zach, and responded with monosyllables when Emma or one of the maidens asked him basic questions, but refused to even look any of the other men in the eye. It was why, when Seshua suggested Selena talk to him, everyone was hopeful.

  “There’s still hope,” Fern murmured close to Emma’s ear as they sped along the highway, going home.

  Selena came out to greet them as they pulled into the ranch’s circular drive. Clothed in a long white peasant skirt and matching blouse that showcased her rich brown skin to perfection, she was just as beautiful, regal and serene as Emma remembered — not from their first meeting, which had been behind an overturned table in the midst of a shootout at the Roadhouse, but hours later when the debris had been cleaned up and Emma was dressed in jeans and a sweater instead of a bathrobe.

  Emma also remembered the two boys who currently stood a few paces back from their queen, shaded by the front stoop. They were young, lean and quiet, with similar Latino features and identical firearms riding in the shoulder rigs that crisscrossed their white tank tops.

  Before she could greet them, Bruce galloped down the front stoop and almost bowled Emma’s legs out from under her. The gigantic, shaggy gray mutt wagged his tail so hard his whole body rocked back and forth, and he whined happily while licking every available inch of bare skin he could find. Once that ritual was over he was content to amble off and snuffle at the other men.

  Selena held her hand out as Emma approached the front step. “Caller of the Blood, it is good to see you again.” Her black eyes glittered with warmth in a face that was not young, but striking and lovely. The harpy queen’s grip was firm and left her palm tingling.

  “Please don’t call me that. It’s too formal,” Emma added quickly when Selena started to look embarrassed. “Just Emma is fine. Or, y’know, you could do what everybody else does.”

  Selena frowned politely. “What does everybody else do?”

  Emma sighed. “Call me whatever the hell they want. Annoying feminine nicknames, mostly.”

  Selena laughed, dispelling the awkwardness of their meeting. “I am afraid I have no such nickname — you will have to simply call me Selena.” She stepped back, gesturing toward the boys. “This is David,” the one on the left nodded, “And this is Brom.” The one on the right offered her a tentative smile that didn’t reach his eyes. Selena turned to Emma, beaming. Then her eyes moved past Emma, and they filled with warm curiosity.

  Emma turned, expecting Red Sun to be coming up behind her, but it was Anton — and he was looking anywhere but at either of them. Eyes down, he balanced a wooden crate in one arm and had Emma’s backpack slung over the other.

  “I told Emma about Rain, but not everything,” he said, presumably to Selena. He turned and backed through the front door, glancing quickly from Emma to the harpy queen. “You should explain the rest to her.” Then he disappeared, leaving Emma and Selena both blinking and staring. The two armed boys shared similar, suspicious expressions.

  “He has been very worried about you. All of you, in Central America. He does not trust Seshua, and frankly, nor do I — I am surprised you handle the jaguar king so well.” Selena’s rich contralto was tinged with worry of her own, but Emma didn’t think for a second that Anton’s mood had anything to do with worry — not about Centr
al America.

  “Yeah, well, I don’t always handle Seshua so great. Half the time he walks all over me.”

  Selena smiled strangely. “Yes. Half the time.”

  Emma supposed it was a compliment. Oh, well, she should take them where she could get them. “Come on,” Emma headed inside. “I want to know how things went with Rain.”

  Selena followed her and the boys followed Selena, down the hall toward the kitchen, the sounds of people moving furniture and boxes filtering out of the living room. The maidens were no doubt rearranging more stuff to make space for the additions from Central America — soon they wouldn’t be able to sit down in there. From farther away came the muffled clatter and groan of hammers and heavy machinery; construction was under way for an extension to the already large farmhouse. The side door that led from the laundry would soon lead to an extra eight rooms, one big living area and two bathrooms, to accommodate the expanding number of guards and residents at the ranch. Even with the extra rooms, people would still be doubling up, which was nothing new. The maidens rarely slept in anything less than groups of four, and lately, Emma’s bedroom held at least a handful of maidens, plus Fern, and Ricky in jaguar form come morning. Of course, it might change once there were extra rooms, but Emma doubted it.

  “Everyone is working very hard,” said Selena. “I watched earlier today. You should not have long to wait for more privacy, yes?”

  Emma looked over her shoulder at the harpy queen; Selena had a knowing look in her eyes. Emma sighed. “Privacy in this house is a myth.”

  Selena laughed. “So is peace and quiet, from the sounds of it.”

  Wasn’t that the damn truth. “We can probably talk in the kitchen.” The faint smell of food drifted to her from the other end of the hall, which meant Ricky had to be cooking. Even if the smell of food hadn’t given him away, a moment later, Emma felt him before she even got close; he opened the call, a gentle, fizzing energy springing up against her skin, Ricky sending his senses outward to find her.