The Wild Rites Saga Omnibus 01 to 04

by Anna McIlwraith

  If Fern could have raised both eyebrows, he would have. You think I’m cute?

  Well, not generally, she said. Just when you were doing that little violin thingie. Although, the Internet is obsessed with heartwarming pictures of jumping spiders wearing droplets of water as hats, so I’m not alone. We could totally get you a hat. It wouldn’t be a water-droplet hat, because you’re too big, but —

  You are insane. Fern’s mental voice sounded like he couldn’t decide whether to laugh or call for help. I’m bonded to a crazy person, why did I not see it before.

  Smiling, Emma stepped into the gap between his front legs, reached up and placed her hands on either side of the squat protrusion of his face, above his fangs and beside his glittering eyes. His mind went still. She sobered.

  I love you, she sent with all the force the merge could transmit. It was a lot; Fern’s thoughts went breathless for a moment, and he crouched down and back a touch, an instinctive defensive gesture. But he was still there with her, mind locked to hers, so she didn’t have to ask him if he understood or if he believed her. He did.

  He flashed back to human shape, catching her hands in his, his face shining with something more raw than joy. I love you too. I would do anything for you.

  She cocked her head. “Special spider hat?”

  His expression turned sour. “Anything but that.”

  By the time Emma let Red know that he and the others could all come back into Kahotep’s study, Nathifa had returned with their on-loan jackal warrior and Emma had given Fern a very brief rundown of why the drawings in Kahotep’s father’s notes caused her panic attack. They were going to have to explain to the others, so she didn’t go into detail, but talking about it at all was enough to wipe the joy from his eyes and replace it with something hard and angry. He tried to shield her from his own reaction to hearing about what had happened to her in Russia, instead focusing on the mystery of the tattoo, but anger swirled beneath it like a riptide.

  Red had somehow procured a change of clothes for Fern, whose outfit didn’t survive the change, so Fern was dressed when Nathifa introduced their new addition. Fatima was short, dark and serious, dressed in modern fatigues with her black hair hanging in a braid down her back, and she was the only other surviving member — aside from Nathifa — of the jackal kingdom’s contingency of warrior priestesses.

  Her presence was a serious honor, and it also made Emma miss the ocelot maidens terribly. If Fatima was impressed at her new assignment or anxious over signing on with a bunch of complete strangers, she didn’t show it either way. It was kinda refreshing.

  Seshua got straight down to business, his tone brooking no argument. “Whatever the reason for your reaction to the drawings, an extended explanation must wait. We have lingered here too long. Tell Kahotep what he needs to know so that he might furnish us with as much material as is relevant, and then we go.”

  Emma was usually all about arguing with Seshua, but she agreed with him — every extra second put the jackals more at risk. She took a deep breath and turned to the jackal king. “When my powers were awakened in Russia,” she said, ignoring Seshua’s involuntary growl, “I had a vision.” Seshua went silent. “A vision of another Caller of the Blood. I’m pretty sure she was dead, but she had some excellent tattoos, and this was one of them.” She held up the ancient sketch, and felt all the hairs on her arms stand to attention. “I’m guessing your father found something — maybe even found her. We need anything that could tell us more about her, because it might help tell us more about me. My power.” She shrugged. “So give us everything, I guess?”

  Kahotep arched a brow, bent down behind the desk, and then heaved an antique chest the size of a mini fridge into his arms. “Everything?”

  Emma nodded, eyes wide. “Yup. Everything.”

  17

  The rest of the preparations went quickly; Red disappeared to retrieve Zach and take him to the Russian Wolf King’s palace, and let the Russians know that Emma and her ever-growing entourage were on their way. They’d gathered in the Egyptian palace’s walled garden, and Nathifa reached out to Emma and wrapped her in a hard hug.

  “Be safe,” the queen said with a squeeze before holding Emma at arm’s length. “Also, be fierce and uncompromising. You lead them now. Listen to reason, but not to excuses.”

  “I don’t —”

  “You do, ” Nathifa cut her off, a growl edging her voice. “And you are able. And come back here, should you need to — we are warriors, and if we must defend the kingdom against the serpent priests, then so be it.”

  Emma nodded; it seemed like the smart thing to do since the queen’s eyes had gone gold. “Thank you Nathifa, for everything.”

  “Bah,” she waved Emma off.

  “It’s time,” Seshua said. Emma turned around and found Red Sun waiting.

  Just a sec, she sent via the link to Red, turned back and stepped into the circle of Kahotep’s arms. His hug was more delicate than his queen’s, but when he pulled back, his face was a lot less human than hers had been. The presence of his beast made his face long and his one visible eye too wide set, and the jackal looked out at Emma and demanded she pay attention.

  His hands tightened on her arms, too tight, but she breathed through it. “Call upon me whenever you have need,” he told her, his voice gone deep and resonant.

  “I will, Kahotep,” she said quietly. Then she peeled his fingers off her arms and kissed his cheek before looking around at the assembled company.

  Seshua and Shadi towered over all but Red Sun; Leah and Fatima were like yin and yang, one tall, blond and lean, the other short, dark and compact. Horne performed a last-minute weapons check, making sure the many pockets of his fatigues were secure; he’d been unconscious when Red brought them all to Egypt and that was his first time Traveling, so he was clearly nervous. Fern was by her side and locked to her through the merge, spirit to spirit.

  This was it: no Ricky, no Anton, no maidens, none of the gruff, belligerent jaguar guards, save Horne. She was grateful for them all, the ones she had with her, and she missed the others so bad it made her throat tight.

  “You’d better head inside,” she said to Kahotep and Nathifa. “Get out of range.”

  “Not that I know what my range is, anyhow,” Red added. “Better head all the way inside.”

  The jackal king and queen nodded, turned their backs and left, guards in tow. Shadi took the opportunity to move closer to Emma, his face haughty and serene, his hand on the sword at his hip. Sometime while Emma was sleeping, he’d managed to procure a bow and set of arrows; the arrows rode in a pouch strapped to his belt, the bow was slung over one shoulder.

  He met her eyes, inclined his head. “My lady commander.”

  She didn’t know if it was a greeting or a question or what, so she didn’t say anything in reply, but Nathifa’s parting words came back to her: You lead them now.

  If that was true, then God help them all; she had no idea what she was doing. All they had was a trunk full of crap that was hundreds of years old — tucked under Red’s arm for safe Traveling — and the knowledge that until this was over, nowhere was safe to stay for more than a day at a time.

  Red cleared his throat. Emma looked at him. “You ready?” he said.

  “Yup.”

  “All right then.”

  Emma breathed out and squeezed Fern’s hand. Her next breath was a gasp as cold air hit her like a slap; the army jacket she’d borrowed from Nathifa really wasn’t designed for subzero temperatures. Snow and moonlight everywhere; it was night and they were on the front lawn of Yevgeny’s estate, and nobody was dressed for a Russian winter.

  Breath clouding in the cold, Emma let go of Fern and took a couple wobbly steps towards Red. “Couldn’t you have rematerialized us indoors?”

  Leah and Horne both chose that moment to lose control of their stomachs. As they stumbled away and the chorus of hurling commenced, Red just shrugged. Emma felt Fern struggling not to laugh. Seshua wasn’
t looking too great either, but at least he was upright. Fatima and Shadi bore identical, stoic expressions of disdain.

  The doors to the Wolf King’s mansion swung open and Katenka flew down the steps, still in pajamas, barefoot and hair wild. Rain was right behind her, Bruce on his heels, with guards following at a more sedate pace — the men and women wore civilian clothing, but Emma recognized guards when she saw them. Then she braced, and the two kids hit her and she went down in the snow anyway.

  Rain was content to bury his face in her armpit and squeeze the life out of her, and Bruce licked her hands and face happily, but Katenka had a few choice words to say. Unfortunately they were all in Russian. The princess sat back on her heels in the snow, shoving hair out of her face and growling, before she remembered to switch to English.

  “How dare you leave us like that.” Katenka’s voice shook. “Anything could have happened to you, and I am here, idle and helpless.” The princess was upset enough that her English had slipped just a touch, her accent thick. She flared her nostrils, eyes fierce and face tight with the effort of not crying.

  Emma kept her tone light, inserting a hand between Bruce’s cold nose and her own very cold neck. “Nothing could be as bad as what your dad would do to me if you were hurt while under my protection.”

  Katenka groaned. “He’ll never let me out of his sight now.”

  “Sorry Katenka, I’m oddly okay with that, considering that the entire serpent priesthood is trying to kill us all.” Emma could feel snow soaking through to her back, so she patted Rain’s shoulder and scrambled to sit up with him sprawled across her. Bruce bounded away, the excitement of so many new people too much for him to contain himself.

  “And here I thought you were on my side.” Katenka huffed. “I had better go tell papa you are here. Anyway,” she added, getting up and dusting herself off. “It’s not the entire serpent priesthood trying to kill us all. Alexi has a few allies.”

  “Yeah?” Distracted by cold and the desire to not be on her ass in the snow, Emma wasn’t really paying attention as Shadi helped her to stand, and she pried Rain’s arms off her midsection and ran a hand through his hair. “And how do you know that, princess?”

  “Because he said so.”

  Emma blinked at the princess. The princess pointed back towards the mansion, where a tall, lean figure was silhouetted by the light from the hall beyond, and suddenly Emma couldn’t get enough air. She knew that silhouette as sure as she knew her own name.

  Alexi started down the steps to the lawn, and not even Fern’s presence at Emma’s back and in her head could ground her: her heart leapt, her breath accelerated, her vision turned crystalline and bright. Heat flushed into her face and hands, and then the cold, stinging touch of his power reached her and she had to clench her teeth against the sound that threatened to escape her lips.

  What was he doing here?

  Red’s voice burst into her head, but it wasn’t enough to make Emma tear her gaze from Alexi. He figured we’d end up in Russia, so he left Yevgeny a message and a location. Asking me to come for him when we were safe. After I dropped Zach here, I retrieved him.

  Fern’s concern tugged at the bond. You know he won’t hurt you, right?

  Whoops — they’d spent so much time staying out of each other’s heads after Russia, there were some thing she hadn’t had the chance to explain yet. Yeah, she definitely knew he Alexi wouldn’t hurt her.

  But Shadi didn’t. He stepped in front of her, sword chiming as he drew it and leveled it in Alexi’s direction.

  “Shadi, no.” Emma pushed confidence into her voice that she didn’t feel. “He is not a threat.”

  Shadi snorted, tossing his head. “Your reaction tells me otherwise, my lady commander.” He raised his voice, ringing with challenge. “Who would approach my lady with violence?”

  Oh Jesus, Emma thought, was she doomed to be surrounded by living fossils of chivalry and chauvinism for the rest of her days? Alexi didn’t deign to respond, simply kept coming, and Emma suddenly feared for Shadi’s life.

  She put her hand on his arm. “Shadi, it’s Alexi.” Even saying his name made her mouth go dry. “He means me no harm.”

  “He does not look it.”

  She had to give him that.

  Alexi came to a halt several yards away, his face still in shadow, just a sliver of his profile pale in the moonlight. His silence was predatory. He was shirtless and barefoot, hair swept back in a braid that snaked down over one broad shoulder to his waist, dead straight and dark as ink against ivory skin; his hands, large and elegant, hung loose at his sides, and his slacks sat low enough on his hips that Emma didn’t have to think too hard to remember how he looked wearing nothing at all.

  Fern’s sudden rush of understanding washed through the merge, followed by surprise, embarrassment, and voracious curiosity, in that order. He stepped forward, politely withdrawing his mind from hers as much as he was able while still maintaining the merge, and moved into Shadi’s sight line.

  “Shadi,” he said in his most reasonable tone of voice. “You must trust her.”

  At that, Shadi straightened, sheathing his sword. “You are right.” He stepped aside.

  Emma sent Fern a wordless mental nudge of thanks, and tried to make her legs work. She closed half the distance between Alexi and her, and then couldn’t get her feet to take her the rest of the way. The voices behind her died down, but she hardly noticed. She had to pull herself together.

  What if things had changed? Who was she kidding — everything had changed, they were at war, the serpent priesthood was rebelling against Alexi’s rule all because of her. They had things to talk about, sure, but maybe that was why he was here — because their link had started a war.

  What could she possibly say that would make that okay?

  All of a sudden he seemed like a dream she’d obsessed over and made herself believe was real — a brief moment of intimacy that meant more to her than it should.

  You were stupid, whispered the thin, cold voice of her trauma. The last time he saw you, you were broken and weak. Why would he want you?

  Did he regret what he’d done for her?

  Alexi clenched his fists and advanced, and Emma couldn’t breathe again. Only long practice kept her feet planted and prevented her from running — that and a healthy fear of humiliation.

  His aura hit her first, then his scent; cold electricity and the taste of rain and smoke, and coiling through both, a dark and muscular brush of something unseen and terrifying that pinged every neural alarm that Emma’s poor mammalian brain possessed.

  He was almost seven feet tall and looked deceptively lean until he got close, which was when Emma remembered he was actually huge. He moved with quiet, efficient grace, and he radiated anger like a jaguar radiated heat. Beautiful. Ancient. Deadly, and standing right in front of her, towering over her so she had to crane her head back to look up at him.

  His eyes — a buttery, reptilian yellow — were dark in the moonlight, deep set and unreadable. The scars that ran from each corner of his wide, severe mouth looked like silver ribbons, healed enough that they were mostly flat, but the wounds had been made by magic and so the scars would never fade.

  Emma’s heart thundered like a trapped thing in her chest. Terrified and uncertain, she still couldn’t believe how beautiful he was.

  His mouth pulled taut with a frown. Her breath caught. Then his voice was in her head like liquid velvet, and it was all she could do to stay upright.

  How can you fear me still?

  She suppressed a whole body shiver. I don’t.

  He arched a brow. Liar. Then he frowned again. You are merged with Fern, and I am shielding you from our link. That must be why my power still affects you so. His gaze held her. Drop the merge.

  She shook her head, mouth gone dry. Can’t. Long story. Or maybe it isn’t. She tried to swallow. Staying merged with Fern is the only way to prevent my energy being drained by Alan trying to call me to him.


  Alexi’s eyes flashed nuclear yellow with power and then there was something vast and invisible wrapping around Emma and tightening its grasp: the shadow of Alexi’s beast. Alexi whirled away from her. She gasped and it was gone.

  He turned back to her, jaw clenched and eyes hard. Very well then, he said reasonably. There is another antidote to your fears. He closed the distance between them, cupped his large hands around the back of Emma’s head, and kissed her.

  Emma’s senses fled along with solid reality; she was soaring, falling, flying. There was just him, his mouth claiming hers, the taste of him like rain and rock and storm. His power wrapped around her, gone from cold to scorching hot, and this time the feel of the shadow of his beast stole her breath in a different way. Coils of invisible power drew her in tight against his body, and she splayed her hands against his sides, drinking him in through her palms — and then he gasped, opening his mouth against hers, and she met his tongue with her own.

  For a moment the entire world dissolved as Emma’s blood roared and her nerves sang with hunger, but Alexi broke away and reality came crashing back, leaving her reeling. She was gratified to find Alexi was breathing just as hard as she was. Not gratified in any other way though, not even close.

  Alexi put his hands on her shoulders and held her at arm’s length, looking at her as though she were a bomb he had to defuse. His face was full of his beast: eyes too far apart, nostrils slightly elongated, bones of his cheeks and jaw seeming to glow beneath faintly scaled skin. His eyes were wild, but then his mouth curved in a half smile that made Emma’s heart pound even harder than before.

  “That should have broken my power’s glamour,” he said, sounding almost normal. His expression turned neutral again, and the lines of his face shifted subtly back to human. “Do you still feel it? Are you still afraid?”

  “I don’t know,” she said out loud. I’m afraid I’ll never figure out how to make you smile more than twice in my lifetime. His brows went up. I’m afraid you’ll never kiss me again.