The Wild Rites Saga Omnibus 01 to 04

by Anna McIlwraith

  Leah went to one knee with a hand on the third red-gold jaguar, who planted his rump and flattened his ears, looking like he’d been drugged; Ricky staggered against Emma’s leg, Anton lay flat to the floor, and Emma and Fern held each other up, shaking with the effort to stay standing and the need for air. At Emma’s hip, Ricky made a pained sound deep in his throat; Leah looked up and met Emma’s eyes, her lips seeming to move in slow motion as she lifted them in a silent snarl, fighting the hold of the serpent priesthood’s thrall. Emma was aware in a far off way of the heat of the flames from the dining room, the smell of sanctuary burning, the ocelot maidens’ fear, Fern’s right hand in her left, but —

  Her right hand was free. Her marked hand. She made a fist. She’d worked so hard to control the mark, to avoid hurting people by accident, and her control was good now. All she had to do to kindle the power of the mark was let that control go.

  If there was ever a time to let go, it was now. Dark spots clouding her vision, Emma let go of Fern, fell to her knees, and slammed her fist into the plush hallway carpet.

  Emma had once stood less than thirty feet from a California live oak as it was struck by lightning, and several seconds before the lightning forked down to set the tree afire, the air itself snapped, Emma heard a click, the back of her teeth vibrated, and then the lightning lit the sky. This was much the same, except there was no lightning and Emma’s knuckles had a helluva rug burn.

  Then the rest of the windows all over the ranch shattered as the house wobbled with the shockwave, everyone gasped as they sucked air into starved lungs, and Red Sun materialized at the bottom of the stairs with a look in his eyes that Emma never wanted to see again.

  Stark fear.

  “Their power blocked mine,” he said in a voice gone deep with his beast. “I couldn’t Travel back here, couldn’t land within a four mile radius.” He strode toward them, weaving around maidens picking themselves up from the floor. “C’mon, before whatever you did wears off.”

  Emma realized what he intended to do as he reached out his hand, and there was one gigantic problem with that: Red could only Travel with two “passengers” at a time, and once he got her off the ranch, if the serpent priests had reestablished their block, he wouldn’t be able to travel back for everyone else.

  Okay, that was two problems. Two gigantic problems and an “oh hell no” from her.

  Not that Red would listen to her; sure, she trusted him with her life, but that was the point — her life.

  So she had no choice. She willed Power into her marked hand and slapped his hand away, the magic-bolstered blow taking him by surprise. He spun and caught himself on the staircase and Emma made a break for the living room doorway. Leah grabbed her arm; Emma dropped, letting all her weight swing from her right arm where Leah held her, and when Leah twisted to adjust her grip, Em grabbed back and squeezed Leah’s wrist as the mark flared white-hot at the contact.

  Leah yelped, hissed, grabbed again as Emma tore free and hurled herself through the doorway into the living room. Heavily armed guards were ranged all along the large front windows, now empty of glass; a few of the guards looked around, but most of them were concerned with the shapes coalescing out of the darkness and swirling snow beyond the broken windows.

  From somewhere in the line, Kal growled. “Get the fuck out of here, my lady.”

  “Just give me a minute,” she said, and dropped to her knees to deliver another blow to the floor. This time she heard something tear off the upper story and crash to the ground, but more importantly, the robed figures coming through the snow toward the house staggered, and a few fell to their knees. Emma could see long hair whipping in the wind, barely discernible faces long and pale. The jaguar guards decided to take advantage and opened fire, guns deafening in the small space, but Emma knew serpent priests weren’t that easy to kill.

  Then bare arms went around her and yanked her back. Anton’s voice near her ear, barely audible beneath bursts of machine gun fire: “Emma, please. ”

  “Sorry Anton.” Emma turned her head to the side and drove the heel of her right hand straight up at where his voice had come from and clipped him in the chin. He grunted and fell back — thankfully still conscious — and she scrambled to get behind the sofa as Leah came at her. Red Sun was behind Leah, and Fern was behind him.

  Fern, run! He can’t take us if we’re not together. To Leah and Red, she yelled, “I’m not leaving them all to fight alone!”

  “It’s our job, ” Leah growled.

  “And it’s mine! To protect them!” Emma held her right hand out, mark glowing, to remind Leah what she was capable of, but there were things Leah had no idea she was capable of.

  Next to Leah, Anton got to his feet, naked and rubbing his jaw where Emma hit him. “We spent our whole lives preparing for this, Em. Even Ricky. He wouldn’t go with you if you asked, he’d stay here. You have to get to safety.”

  One of the guards at the window shouted, and gunfire rang out again. Running out of time.

  Fern, we have to show them.

  Emma, please —

  She looked him in the eyes, begging him wordlessly to merge with her. Through the bond and with her powers, their combined magic could be used to kill — to protect the people Emma loved. They’d done it once before, and she was stronger now. She could save them. Maybe not all of them, she didn’t know what had happened to the guards who’d been outside when the serpent priests attacked or those who’d been on patrol, but there were still so many…

  Fern’s eyes never left hers as he reached out to put a staying hand on Leah’s arm. He came around towards Emma, blinked, and then his eyes were black from lid to lid with his beast as Emma felt the first brush of his mind preparing to merge with hers. When he lifted a hand to her she took it without thinking.

  “Now,” he said softly.

  Too late Emma realized who Fern was talking to; Red disappeared, rematerialized in front of them, and took them away.

  Emma was too busy swearing and ripping free of Fern and Red Sun to recognize where he’d landed them. The parking lot swam in her vision and for a moment she thought she really was going to vomit, which would be the perfect way to end the night, but it passed. Hands on her knees, staring at the ground and breathing hard, Red Sun and Fern silent somewhere behind her, Emma finally noted that it was still night, wherever Red had taken them. Given the faint birdsong, close to dawn. Whether or not they were in the same time zone, or even the same country, she had no idea.

  Gravel under her bare feet. Parking lot but no cars. Emma straightened, looked around, then turned to Red.

  “Seriously? You took us here ?”

  Red shrugged. “Couldn’t take you to the Palace.”

  A few yards behind him, an ancient and weathered human skeleton swayed where it hung from the rafter of the Roadhouse’s front porch.

  “Brings back memories, sweetheart?”

  “Fuck you, Red,” Emma said tiredly. She looked at Fern. He’d withdrawn his mind from hers. “How could you?”

  His eyes were just shadows in the predawn gloom, and his voice was flat. “How could I what.”

  Anger and grief and blind, furious pain welled up from Emma’s heart, from her aching bones and limping spirit, from all the places where she could still feel the terrible things that had happened to her and the choices she’d had to make without really having any choice. Heat washed through her and her control snapped.

  “Against my will, Fern!” Her voice broke. “You made me leave them there against my will! How fucking could you? What fucking happened? Who are you!” Once the words were out, she clapped a hand over her mouth, scared of herself, scared to speak again, scared she might just start screaming.

  If he’d flinched, or recoiled, she would have hated herself in an instant, but Fern was silent and expressionless, arms loose at his sides. A new breed of fear plucked at her — fear of him. She hadn’t feared Fern since — well, since the last time they’d been here at the Roadhouse. T
he first time she’d ever met him.

  He looked away from her, like he didn’t care for the sight of her. “I did it to protect you.”

  Emma scrubbed tears from her face. “We could have protected them. We could have fought together. And it wasn’t just —”

  “My choice,” he finished for her. “I know.” He shrugged. “Now you know how it feels.”

  Emma went cold. “Now I what ?” He still didn’t look at her. “That’s what this is about.” Not just this. Everything that was wrong with Fern since Russia. That’s what Ricky had been trying to tell her the previous morning — “It’s not just his choice, ” Em had said. “That’s kinda the point, ” Ricky said back.

  She couldn’t do this anymore. Or not right now. She turned and started walking for the Roadhouse, gravel biting into her bare feet with every step. Red Sun said something to Fern that she didn’t quite catch, but she thought it might have been don’t.

  That was good. That was smart. Emma could think of a great many excellent ways to complete that sentence, first and foremost being “don’t fucking tell me that you’re having a nervous breakdown because I shut you out of my mind while Alan —”

  Aaand there was no way it was a good idea to finish that thought, so she bit down on the inside of her cheek to keep the memories at bay.

  The Roadhouse door was locked; Emma let power bloom in her right hand and twisted the handle until it chunk ’d open, then let herself in, door slamming shut behind her.

  It was dark, but there was a shaft of warm light off to the left behind the bar, a door left ajar. Maybe to the kitchen? Round tables with wooden chairs stacked atop them made the area a thicket in the shadows. Directly across the main floor was the stage. Emma took the clear path to her left, walking alongside the bar, running a palm across the pocked and scarred surface.

  Her pulse had started to calm down now she was alone in the dark, but up ahead something made a metallic sound, and she froze, heartbeat leaping into her throat. Stupid, really. Red wouldn’t have brought her here if it wasn’t safe.

  She cleared her throat, which felt thick from yelling and crying and screaming. “Somebody there?” Didn’t sound much better than she felt.

  Her voice hadn’t even finished echoing off the walls when the door behind the bar slammed open. Emma stumbled back, blinded by the sudden spill of light. Then a huge shape blocked the light, a shape she thought she recognized, and she couldn’t believe how relieved it made her feel.

  He stepped around the bar, yellow light from the doorway gilding one side of his features, his cobalt skin absorbing the shadows on the other side.

  “Pequeña? ” Seshua stepped toward her, looking as always like the statue of some wild god brought to life: approximately a million feet tall, thick black hair falling in tangled waves over impossibly broad shoulders, deepset eyes so dark blue they were black in the low light. His t-shirt clung to every plane of his disturbingly muscled torso, and seemed to match the color of his skin almost perfectly: deep indigo, the mark of his pureblooded shapechanger lineage. His nose was strong, proud and slightly hawkish; the set of his mouth must have been arrogant since birth, and one thick brow was always ready to arch at her.

  But right now his face was immobile with shock. Emma realized that while Red had known Seshua was here, Seshua hadn’t known they were coming.

  “The serpent priests attacked the ranch,” Emma said, voice still rusty. “Red and Fern are outside. Avoiding me. Or I’m avoiding them. No,” she said as he started forward, gaze shifting to the doors. “Red can’t take you there, the priests can block him from landing within four miles and the only thing that could stop them was me. And I’m here now.” And she’d wasted whatever time they might have had for Red to still be able to travel back, arguing with Fern.

  He stopped an arm’s length away, focused on her, nostrils flaring. “You’re bleeding.”

  “Nothing serious.”

  “The children?”

  She tried not to look surprised that he’d thought of them. “Red got them to safety. Don’t know where.”

  “Probably Russia.” His gaze roamed over her face; she had to look up to meet his eyes. They were the same deep lagoon blue as they always were, whether he was in human shape or beast, but the way he didn’t blink made Emma think his jaguar was close. Not close enough to raise the hair on the back of her neck or make her blood sing, but close.

  He seemed to remember he could speak. “Casualties?”

  Emma shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know.”

  Seeming to study her, Seshua leaned down toward her. His chest expanded with a deep inhale. “Don’t smell me,” she said. “And what are you doing here? I thought you were making some kind of certifiably insane last stand at the palace after sending all your guards to me so they’d be safe, which is a real fucking joke now, isn’t it?”

  Seshua snarled, but not like he knew he was doing it. “I am a brutal leader, and a smart one,” he said. “Not a noble one. Pleased as I am that you entertained romantic notions of my having sacrificed myself for my people, I evacuated the palace and retreated here, seeing no reason to die pointlessly once getting everyone else to safety. I said I would defend my kingdom, not my palace. Are you disappointed in me, pequeña? ”

  “Disappointed that you’re not as batshit crazy as I gave you credit for? No actually. Happy to be wrong about that one.”

  He arched a brow. “You’re angry.”

  “You’re observant.”

  “But not at me.” He crossed his arms and smirked. “It’s a novelty.”

  She let her shoulders slump, suddenly so tired she thought she could actually lie down on the beer-stained concrete floor and take a nap. “How can I be so relieved to see you but also annoyed at the same time?”

  “All part of my plan. Come,” he swept one hand to the small of her back and urged her on in the direction he’d come. “You look like you need food.”

  “People keep saying that.”

  “Saying what?”

  “That I look like I need food.” Resisting Seshua took energy she just didn’t have, and she suspected he was letting his hand brush her ass in an intentional effort to get her to run from him — and go where he wanted her to — so she let him herd her. “Anyway, annoying me is all part of what plan.”

  “Oh, I’ve frankly no idea,” Seshua said as he steered her around the bar and through the doorway, into the brightly lit commercial kitchen. “But with you around, I know I need a plan. Not that any of my other plans have ever survived you, but an evil dictator with dreams of world domination has to try.”

  That surprised a laugh out of her. It felt good to laugh, but it also made her feel even more tired. And sore. She was sore everywhere, but especially her right wrist and the soles of her feet. She had no idea what she’d done to them and didn’t much care to know.

  “You forget,” she said, leaning against the dishwasher, “I’ve met an evil dictator with dreams of world domination. Or close enough. You’re nothing like him.”

  A ripple of power mottled Seshua’s indigo skin, then was gone. He smiled tightly and pulled an ancient upholstered barstool over to her. The wrinkly vinyl cushion squealed gracefully as she hiked her butt up onto it, and she hissed with pleasure as she took her weight off her feet while also noting the bloodied footprints she’d tracked into the kitchen.

  “See now,” Seshua said, turning away from her to light the burner under the grill in a gesture so domestic it was jarring. “My plan is working. You’re clearly falling for me.”

  This time Emma laughed so hard she had to wipe her eyes and take a deep breath before she could speak. “And you’re trying to cheer me up. Who are you and what have you done with the jaguar king?”

  He stalked past her to the walk in refrigerator. “I’ll pretend you did not say that, so I don’t have to punish you for your insolence.”

  “That’s better.” She frowned at the packages he tossed onto the counter; her brain felt fuzzy. �
�What are you doing?”

  “Making you food.”

  “No! You can’t!” She slid off the stool and landed on her feet, whimpered, and limped backwards. Seshua looked fiercely offended, but she couldn’t worry about that. “We have to do something,” she said. “We can’t just sit here like —”

  “Like they are several hours away? Like the fight would be over before we could even get halfway there?” Seshua moved slowly towards her, his brow furrowed. “You do not think Red Sun is out there waiting for the first chance he can get to go back? Pequeña , they are all skilled warriors, and the serpent priests’ target is no longer there, so there’s little for the serpent priests to gain and much to risk in fighting our people.”

  “They could take hostages.”

  “Human shaped ones, perhaps. It is very difficult to take a jaguar hostage without commercial grade tranquilizers. It is true, they are in danger, and there is nothing we can do about it.” Seshua flexed his hands — huge hands — and a muscle in his jaw jumped. “Except honor their service by not getting ourselves killed.” He turned away, muscles bunching beneath his t-shirt, long braids in his hair swinging. His movements were tense and jerky as he pulled plates from a rack by the sink, then yanked a spatula from the magnetic strip on the wall and slapped two burger patties onto the grill.

  Emma had truly never even thought to see the day when one of the major supervillains in her life turned frycook just for her sake, and she wanted to be able to appreciate it — hell, she wanted her phone so she could obtain photographic evidence — but she was starting to feel seriously unwell. He was right; now that Red had Traveled off the ranch, there was nothing they could do. Anxiety twisted Emma’s stomach into knots as she thought of them all — Ricky, Anton, the maidens, the jackals, the guards — in danger and fighting for their lives just so she had a chance to escape.

  Mouth suddenly dry, she gripped the bar stool, world spinning around her. Maybe it was shock? Maybe she’d been injured worse than she thought and was bleeding out — except Seshua would have noticed — and oh, yep, black spots in her vision, that was bad. She should probably let Seshua know she was about to —