The Wild Rites Saga Omnibus 01 to 04

by Anna McIlwraith

  His brows came back down, heat filled his eyes and there was a dangerous edge to his voice when he spoke. “Never fear that.” He let go of her shoulders and framed her face in his hands. I have no regrets, Emma, and no intention of letting you go. I am not a good man. I do not have it in me to let you go. He swept his thumbs across her cheekbones, just a delicate touch, and she felt the effort it took him to be gentle with hands strong enough to crush her skull.

  He touched the pad of one thumb to her lips, hissed through his teeth, and dropped his hands. “ The war is not your fault, it is mine.” His face shut down, becoming the cruel, arrogant mask Emma was so familiar with. His gaze moved beyond her. “I could have prevented it,” he said in a quiet voice edged with steel. “I chose not to.”

  Emma followed his gaze, turning to look over her shoulder, and had to suppress an undignified sound of dismay when she found they had an audience and Seshua was in the front row. His expression was all jaguar: unflinching, focused and emptied of anything human. When he spoke, Emma was surprised he could even form words.

  “So you have no way of deflecting or containing the threat from the rest of the priesthood.” Seshua might have been close to the change, but he was human enough to make the words drip with judgment and disbelief.

  Alexi didn’t seem fazed. He looked at Emma, brow smoothing out. “Not now they know about her, no. That deal is off the table. They would never allow me to take the Anchor’s place while the link to Emma’s power exists.”

  “Wait wait wait,” Emma said loudly, putting her hands up. “What the hell do you mean, take the Anchor’s place? And don’t you dare do that,” she added as Alexi’s expression got stonier. “Don’t shut me out of this.”

  A muscle in Alexi’s jaw jumped. “I was not —”

  “You were about to!” She glared at him. “I can tell you were. I forgive you, but only if you tell me what is going on.”

  He glanced at Seshua, and Emma growled. “I am right here.”

  Alexi pressed his lips together and sighed, nostrils flaring, his long thick braid sliding with a mind of its own over his shoulder to swing down his back. Of all the things she’d gotten used to about shapechangers, the fact that their hair moved on its own still creeped her out.

  I make no apologies for what I am, Alexi said mind to mind, but you will not like this, Caller of the Blood.

  Okay, this was bad. He only ever called her that when things were bad. His gaze was hard, his expression harder, and the set of his jaw and neck and shoulders looked like he was either about to hit someone or bracing for a blow.

  I never asked you to apologize, she thought at him. “Just please tell me.”

  Into the crisp, moonlit silence, Alexi said, “The anchor that bound the power of the serpent priesthood is dead, because I killed him.” He bit the next words out. “As he died, I merged with him telepathically, and his power transferred to me. But whoever destroys the Anchor in such a way must become the Anchor or the race of the serpent priests will be changed forever.”

  Emma sighed noisily through her cheeks, startling him. “And without an anchor, the rest of the priesthood is pretty much invincible, right?”

  He blinked at her. “That is the part you choose to focus on?”

  “The part where we’re all gonna die, yes, that’s the part that concerns me. Do we have an option for dealing with that, or are we just plain screwed?”

  It was almost cute: he was literally lost for words, even telepathic ones. All he could do was stare at her. Fern’s mental snort of laughter broke through the merge, and she sent him the merge-equivalent of a smirk while being very careful to keep her face straight.

  Seshua cleared his throat. “Alexi…”

  He made an impatient noise and shook his head. “There are options. Which is all I can say while we are out in the open.” Turning away, he clenched his fists and paced a few steps, staring out into the crisp night. You cannot tell me it doesn’t bother you that I killed a man, he said in Emma’s head.

  She glanced at Seshua. The jaguar king’s eyes were narrowed, his beast still close, but she didn’t think he was going to lose it anytime soon. She held up a hand for him to be patient, and moved to Alexi’s side, close enough that she could feel the cold boiling off his skin.

  You’ve killed a lot of men, Alexi. He jerked his head around to look at her. She met his gaze without flinching and let him see the truth in her eyes. I have no illusions about you. But I know more than you think you’ve told me.

  His expression turned neutral and distant. What do you mean.

  You don’t want to become the Anchor, whatever that means. Why?

  That made him frown. Then he narrowed his eyes at her. Because I am selfish. Because I am a heretic who has no faith.

  She sighed. The old ones could be so melodramatic. Yeah, but why, really why? Why wouldn’t you want to be this anchor if the anchor is so powerful that you killed him to become powerful enough to save me?

  Alexi was silent for a long moment, seeming to retreat inward, to someplace Emma couldn’t touch. Then he looked away from her. To be the Anchor is to be a slave. A prisoner. I could not live like that.

  Emma nodded, suspicions confirmed. And how long did the Anchor spend like that, before you took his life?

  He shook his head. More years than it is sane to contemplate. Thousands. He was mad, and it was — he stopped, huffed, crossed his arms. Fine then, you are right. Killing him was a mercy. But I would not have done it if not for you. It was not noble, Emma.

  “Maybe not, but it’s enough.” Before he could do anything about it, she put her hand on his arm, leaned in and dropped a brief kiss above his elbow. His look of shock was quite satisfying. “Come on,” she said. “Let’s head inside.”

  He continued to look at Emma as though she was nuts, but fell into step beside her. She glanced around for Fern, met his eyes, and he nodded. He still had Rain stuck to him like an extra limb. They made their way across the lawn to the mansion that housed the Russian wawkalaki’s royal family, with Seshua like a storm at their backs and the rest — jackals, jaguars, wolves and all — bringing up the rear.

  Katenka appeared at Emma’s side, Bruce loping beside her. Her pajamas were grass stained and there was a little bit of wolf in her eyes. “Father is returning from a hunt,” she said, voice deeper than usual. “He will be with us all shortly. In the meantime I’m to make you welcome and get you settled in.”

  “I’m sure you’ll make a most gracious host,” Emma teased.

  “Pah.” Katenka shook her head vigorously, dislodging a few leaves from the mass of white curls. “I have no wish to play the princess here. There are more important things to be doing.”

  As they mounted the steps to the massive front doors, Alexi touched Emma’s mind, the velvet feel of his mental voice sending a tremor down her spine. She has it in her head to go with you, wherever you go next.

  Emma looked at Alexi sidelong, drinking in the sight of him. His eyes had turned lambent yellow in the glow from the open front doors, and his scars carved his face into something feral and breathtaking. She wanted to undo his braid and run her hands through his hair and —

  He stopped with one foot still on the second last step, head bent, breath clouding from his nostrils. Emma, he said with a gentleness as fragile as blown glass. I can hear your thoughts. You must concentrate on something else.

  She felt her face flame with embarrassment. But couldn’t find it in herself to be sorry. Whoops?

  Expression pained, Alexi continued up the steps, and she followed. Concentrate on something else. Right. She glanced back to Katenka. The girl’s face was set in a scowl. She hadn’t had her first hunt yet, and due to the elaborate preparation involved, she wouldn’t get the chance until next winter. She was frustrated. Emma knew she’d feel differently about being back here at the royal home when she was finally an adult member of the pack, on equal footing with her father and king.

  “Right now,” Emma said to
Katenka, “The most important thing we could be doing is eating. I hope your dad has food.”

  They were about to step into the extravagant entrance hall of the royal mansion when Yevgeny appeared in the doorway stark naked, blood-streaked, and carrying a very dead deer slung across his shoulders.

  He grinned, flashing fang. “I have food.”

  18

  Emma took a pass on eating Bambi and settled on coffee instead. She figured with as much sugar and cream as she added, it almost counted as a meal — which wouldn’t prevent her from needing to use the bathroom urgently pretty soon, given the two cups she downed in record time. Katenka had shown them to the lamplit sitting room, which was warm from the banked coals in the fireplace and would have been the height of interior decor about a hundred years ago, where in spite of the many chairs and couches Emma and Fern were the only ones actually sitting. The old fashioned tea service Katenka had served coffee from sat on the genuinely old coffee table; Emma was the only one who’d touched it.

  Leah and Horne had taken up position either side of the sitting room door, and Fatima echoed their at ease stance from where she stood beside the window. Shadi took the other side of the window, hand on the pommel of his sword and dark eyes trained on Alexi, who had both elbows propped on the back of one of the overstuffed chairs and watched everyone without looking at anyone. Seshua paced, as usual, and Red Sun stood behind Emma and Fern, one hip leaning against the back of the couch. His scent was strong and comforting, pine and leather and masculine sweat, but it did make her think she was probably the only one who’d had the privilege of a hot bath at the palace in Egypt. Probably the only one who’d slept, too.

  I’m just fine, flower. Don’t you worry about me.

  She twisted in her seat so she could look up at Red. Did you even eat when we were in Egypt?

  He gave her a droll look. That is the opposite of not worrying about me.

  Scowling, she resettled against the couch. And that’s not an answer. She rolled her eyes, and then found Alexi looking at her with a faint frown.

  Alexi didn’t know about Red making the pledge, or the loophole in Red’s curse that forged their telepathic connection. Emma hadn’t even really thought about it herself, but they were bound to each other via two strong magical ties now, not just one.

  Of course, Alexi could read minds, so he sure as hell knew about it now. His brow smoothed out and his face went rigid. Emma went cold, and her heart skipped a beat, then stumbled into a gallop that seemed to shake her from head to toe.

  Fern was instantly there in her head, his spirit wrapping her with protective warmth. You have nothing to be ashamed of, he sent, mental voice stormy and fierce. You’ve done what was necessary, and so has Red.

  Emma felt a little bit like she was going to throw up. Fern took her hand and willed her pulse to match his, and her heartrate calmed down. She swallowed, meeting his gaze, and let his black eyes anchor her.

  Before she could think or say anything more, Yevgeny strode into the sitting room with two men at his back, one Emma recognized — Ivan, who looked kinda like a version of Billy Idol you wouldn’t want to run into in a dark alley — and another Emma didn’t know. The wolf king had showered and donned pale slacks and a cream shirt; his hair, thick and streaked with black, gray and brown, the colors of his beast, was wet and cut shorter than it had been a month ago. His eyes were the same though: amber tinged with green, the tilted shape of his beast’s eyes, even down to the black-rimmed lids. From very far away, his eyes might be mistaken for makeup, but never up close. Up close he looked alien and deadly.

  Katenka had explained that Yevgeny’s permanently lupine eyes were a side effect of keeping her alive — he’d spent so much time sharing his power with Katenka that now his beast could never fully retreat. He wasn’t an attractive man, but he was striking, and the black-rimmed eyes made him downright compelling to look at. It also made it impossible for him to blend with humans.

  “Emma,” he said with feeling. “Caller of the Blood and keeper of my most beloved daughter. It’s good to see you, even under such dire circumstances.”

  She had no choice but to shove her feelings about Alexi aside. She stood, and Fern stood with her. “Yevgeny, I’m so sorry. We told you Katenka would be safe with us and I can never make it up to you —”

  “Niet. ” His voice resonated with an almost subaudible growl that made Emma shut her mouth so fast she bit her tongue. She’d forgotten how scary he could be without trying. He came to her and reached for her hands, and she let him take them. His were hot and dry and humming with strength. “There is no bad blood between us,” he said softly. “One of the most powerful beings I have ever known put my daughter’s safety above yours — you, whom Red Sun is sworn to protect. When my daughter’s life is valued above that of the axis of the world, I count her as safe.” He let her hands go.

  She resisted the urge to rub her tingling palms on her jeans, and completely ignored the axis of the world comment, because nope. “Well,” she said shakily. “When you put it like that, it doesn’t sound so bad. It was bad, though. And Katenka’s brave, half the battle is getting her out of danger before she goes running toward it.”

  Yevgeny lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “She knows what it is to be royal and responsible for her people. Speaking of which. Excuse me my lady.” He turned to Seshua. “Welcome once more to the wawkalak kingdom, Seshua king of jaguars.” The words had the ring of rote formality. “Red Sun was the one to inform me of the attack on Emma’s stronghold, and Alexi has filled in the details. It is true, I was not…happy, to find out that your sanctuary had been breached and Katenka’s life had been endangered. But since the serpent priesthood exploited the connection between Emma and Alexi in order to find the Caller of the Blood, and Katenka might not have survived the ordeal five weeks ago if Alexi had not done what he did, I cannot find fault with you or your allies.”

  Seshua crossed his arms over his massive chest and narrowed his eyes. A moment later, Emma felt his aura bleed humid power into the already claustrophobic sitting room. His upper lip peeled back from teeth gone thick and sharp, and suddenly Yevgeny’s wolves jerked to attention, fists clenched.

  “Emmalina might not have survived the ordeal,” Seshua snarled, skin turning dark with the shifting shadow of his beast. “And she is the only reason your daughter lives at all.”

  Emma had been about to sit back down, but decided against it. She opened her mouth to tell Seshua to back off, but then Ivan, the scary blond wolf, took a few stiff steps forward, his gray eyes turning round and lupine. Yevgeny put a hand out and said something harsh and low in Russian, and Ivan stopped, vibrating with a silent growl.

  Tone reasonable, he addressed Seshua in English. “I did not mean to offend, Seshua. Merely to make my intentions and motivations plain to you. If I were in your position, I would suspect all in my sphere of conspiracy — which is, indeed, why I was grateful for Alexi’s insistence on coming here to explain the situation personally.”

  Yevgeny looked like he’d just defused a bomb and was hoping he’d cut the right wire. Emma held her breath. Seshua exhaled through his nose and lost a little of the jacked up tension in his spine, and then glanced sidelong at Alexi. “That is why you bid Red Sun bring you here?”

  Alexi held Seshua’s gaze. “And to confer with you. Phones are not entirely safe right now.”

  The jaguar king grunted, looking dissatisfied with that answer.

  Yevgeny just looked relieved that Seshua wasn’t about to lose his shit, and Emma was too. The wolf king cleared his throat. “I understand you will not be able to stay anywhere for very long until the conflict is resolved. For the time you have now, my home is yours, and anything you need I will give if I can.”

  Seshua inclined his head, expression grim, but all diplomacy now. “My thanks. My second in command will be in charge of outfitting us all for whatever comes next. When we are done here, Leah can tend to such matters.”

  Yevgeny lo
oked at Leah. “If you would use your time wisely, I can call Nadya down and have her take you through armory and provisions now.”

  Leah nodded. “Absolutely.”

  “Very well.” Yevgeny’s eyes flashed gold, and then the magic of the Call nipped at Emma’s skin. A moment later it was gone, and a moment after that, footsteps echoed crisply from the tiled hall and Nadhezda Denisova walked through the sitting room door looking fresh and classic in a cream silk shift and black pumps. How the woman got around so fast in heels, Emma would never know. Nadhezda — Nadya to her friends — also looked about ten years younger than the last time Emma saw her, in spite of the old-fashioned reading glasses perched at the end of her nose.

  She flashed Emma a bright smile and then looked to Yevgeny, who spoke in English for Seshua’s benefit. “Set them up with everything they will need for an extended trip. No passports though. Unless?” He raised a brow at Seshua, who shook his head. “Very well.” Yevgeniy gestured for Leah to go with Nadya, and the two women left.

  “So,” Yevgeny said, crossing his arms and looking from Alexi to Seshua and then Red Sun. “Do you have any idea what you are going to do?”

  That was the million dollar question.

  Red jerked his chin in Emma’s direction. “Keep this one alive.” With the toe of one boot, he nudged the trunk that Kahotep had given them. “See if this stuff can help us do that.” He looked up, shrugged, and scratched the side of his face thoughtfully before dropping his hand and giving them all a halfway apologetic look. “That’s all I got.”

  Emma suppressed a grin. Red winked at her. Alexi straightened, and Emma’s heart skipped a beat before Fern pressed himself to her side and willed her pulse to straighten out.

  “As I said earlier,” Alexi said to Yevgeny, “I do have allies within the priesthood. Only a few, but not everyone is content with their lot. Some wish to have the choice to lead more normal lives, as the other races do. Some wish to lead lives that the priesthood actively condemns. And I have no wish to control anyone’s life other than my own, so. A select few priests whom I trust are covering for my absence now, and I do not have much time.” He looked at Emma then, face unreadable, before turning back to Yevgeny. “I would speak to Seshua and to the Caller of the Blood in confidence, and leave what I tell them under their discretion.”