by Ann Gimpel
“Elliott,” she called to his retreating back.
“Yes?” He and Tairin stopped to wait for her.
“I’d meant to cast my net to see if I could locate my brother. Can you help me with that?”
“Sure. As soon as we have the rest of this under better control, I’d be glad to.”
Ilona licked dry lips. She’d already made a total ass out of herself with all her shrieking and crying. What was one more thing? “Do you know why your father’s not back yet?” she asked Tairin.
“No. And I’ve begun to worry about him.”
“Get moving,” Meara yelled from fifty yards ahead.
“We can talk more later.” Tairin took off at a trot with Ilona and Elliott right behind her.
Chapter 6
Jamal was maybe a mile from the wagons when he heard a woman screaming. Or his wolf did. His senses were more acute than a normal human’s, but his wolf had a phenomenal sense of hearing and smell.
“Hurry,” he urged, recognizing Ilona’s agonized shrieks.
What the hell had happened? He couldn’t see Michael or Stewart turning on the magic-laden Rom, but he wasn’t so sure about the other inhabitants of the caravans. Everyone was on edge, and after her stint in Dachau, others might believe she was a spy.
If anything happened to her, he’d get to the bottom of it and—
And what? he asked himself.
It wasn’t as if the hundred or so Romani milling about the clearing had suddenly come to terms with shifters as partners. Even Michael, Stewart, and the other Rom who’d fought side by side with him and the group of shifters, had done so because there wasn’t any other choice. Centuries of distrust weren’t going to evaporate overnight. And him charging into the camp like a raging bull would only serve to get him thrown out.
Quite aside from alienating the Rom, Meara would be furious with him. A cavalcade of the shifters he’d met with over the past several hours filled his mind. Most had been mired in disbelief that Rom would ever be other than sworn enemies. They’d agreed to meet, but only because he’d told them Meara demanded it.
Unlike Rom, who sometimes ignored their leaders, shifters held to a strict chain of command. No one who wanted to remain part of shifter society disregarded an order from one of the first shifters.
Ilona’s cries had faded. Did that mean things were better?
She could be unconscious. Or dead… Alarm filled him, and he pushed the wolf to greater speed.
“Use your magic,” his wolf said dryly. “She’s very much alive.”
“Since you know so much, what happened?”
The wolf’s muscles flexed in a rolling motion as it ran. “She was frightened, and now she isn’t. It will have to do until we return.”
Jamal glanced at familiar landmarks flashing past. It wouldn’t be long now. He angled their trajectory so they’d come to the car first. He wanted his human form, and for that he needed clothes.
Meara stood next to the Mercedes, arms folded beneath her breasts. Before he’d fully drawn to a stop, she narrowed her eyes. “What took you so long?”
“I found Ilona’s discarded prison suit. The wolf and I laid a false track and disposed of it in a way it won’t lead anyone right to us. Hang on. Let me shift.”
Light scattered as he summoned magic to make himself human again. Once he had hands, he tugged open one of the car’s back doors and grabbed clothing, dressing as quickly as he could.
“How many of our kin did you speak with?” Meara asked before he could craft a question about Ilona. Something subtle that wouldn’t give away his bone-deep longing for her.
“I followed your instructions. By the time we were done, we’d passed the message to eighty-seven shifters. Wolves, bears, coyotes, hawks. Even a pair of foxes.”
“Humph. I’m surprised the bears even let you inside. Their animal forms prefer sleep during the cold months.”
“Well, they did. Everyone will be here as you commanded.” Jamal shrugged into a warm jacket and closed the car door before shoving his hands into his pockets. “What happened here? Why’d you feel the need to intercept me as soon as I returned?”
He turned what he hoped were guileless eyes on Meara, although he doubted he’d fooled her.
“Come with me. We’re meeting with Michael and Stewart.”
“Did something happen?” Jamal repeated, too anxious about Ilona to wait any longer for information.
Meara rolled her eyes. “You young ones. Always so impatient. Yes, something happened. I scryed the future. So did Ilona. Our visions matched well enough, I didn’t feel the need for a third opinion from Elliott.”
“And?” Jamal pressed.
“Vampires will attack this location—”
Jamal stiffened. “Why are we wasting time meeting? We need more amulets and a war plan. We must form groups and practice. All those shifters I raised need to show up sooner rather than two days hence.” He paused long enough to take a breath.
“I didn’t say they’d be here tonight,” Meara cut in. “Although once we’re done talking with Michael and Stewart, I’ll do what I can to hurry up both your group of shifters and the fifty or so I contacted.” She took off at a lope for the wagons. All the horses had been unharnessed and were hobbled where they could graze.
Jamal fell into step beside her. “Did Ilona’s vision harm her? I heard her screaming.”
Meara sent a pointed look his way, and he stared right back at her. “She was more frightened than anything. I suspect she hasn’t used her gift for anything serious—until now. Future seeing doesn’t just wash over you. You have to plan for it, summon what you want to see.” She shrugged. “Since her caravan leader didn’t fully understand or appreciate her gifts, she was never called upon to use them.”
“Told you,” Jamal’s wolf piped up.
“Indeed you did,” Jamal replied, recalling the wolf’s assessment that Ilona had sounded scared.
Meara looked as if she wanted to say something, but she must have changed her mind. Threading her way around the front of Michael’s wagon, she led Jamal to where a group hunkered in a tight circle. Magic danced around them, probably to shield their words from the rest of the Rom.
Tairin, Elliott, Ilona, Michael, Stewart, and two other Rom that Jamal recognized from the vampire hunt glanced at Meara and him. Michael made come along motions with one hand. “We waited for you.” His dark hair was chopped to shoulder length, and his thickset body bulged with muscle. Black eyes snapped with annoyance—and worry. He wore his usual leather pants and brightly patterned shirt, painted with runic symbols.
Jamal slipped between Michael and Tairin. He wanted to position himself next to Ilona, but she looked nervous, as if shards from her vision still haunted her. He tried to establish eye contact, but she kept her gaze stubbornly on the dirt in front of her.
She had to know he and Meara were there. Why wouldn’t she look at him?
Power settled around the circle like a shroud. “Now that we’re all here and can chew this through,” Stewart said, “I suppose ’tis pointless for us to run.”
“The vampires know where we are,” Meara said. “If they could find us once, they can find us again. No. We must face them. How many of those amulets from our last skirmish are left?”
Michael frowned. “I might have five or so.”
“And I’ve another ten,” Stewart said. “I gathered them from the Rom afore they left the killing field.”
“We may need more,” Meara said. “It depends how we do this.”
“Ye have something in mind,” Stewart trained astute dark eyes on her. Dressed in his usual kilt, his long, red hair was braided close to his head.
Meara’s sharp-featured, ageless face split into an untamed expression with lips skinned back from her teeth. “Indeed I do, but it has a better chance of success if you’ll work with us. Stronger power and all that.”
“Ye have to say more,” said one of the Rom Jamal didn’t know by name. He sounded li
ke Stewart, his brogue thick and soft. He was dressed in loose trousers and a woolen top. Curly dark hair was unevenly cut to shoulder length, and his blue eyes radiated sharp intelligence.
“And you are?” Meara asked.
Color splotched the man’s face. “Sorry. My name is Cadr.”
“I’m his brother, Vreis,” the other man spoke up.
Once he said the word brother, Jamal picked up the family resemblance. Vreis had longer hair, but the same lanky build and blue eyes.
“Their magic is potent,” Stewart cut in. “’Tis why they’re here. They’re transplants from the Old Country, just like me.”
“Well, Cadr and Vreis”—Meara looked from one to the other—“how would you feel about a wee bit of mayhem in one of the work camps?”
Michael smiled grimly. “You’re thinking if the vampires are busy here, we can mete out damage in the camps, perhaps even free some of the poor sods stuck in there.”
Meara nodded, but held up a cautionary hand. “I don’t believe every vampire will be part of the attack planned for this location, but the numbers I’ve seen suggest fewer of them will be scattered elsewhere.”
“When Tairin and I went into Dachau, we didn’t sense any vampires at all. It was only after we were well clear of the prison that we found them,” Elliott said.
“I only saw one.” Ilona finally looked up. “It was outside Dachau’s gates, and it never returned the few weeks I was inside.” A shudder racked her. “I’d have noticed if one were close. Nothing else feels quite as bad as they do.”
Meara cleared her throat, nostrils flaring. “The other camps in Germany are Sachsenhausen-Oranienburg near Berlin, Esterwegen near Hamburg, and Ravensbrück near Brandenburg. We must get a jump on this now. I’ve seen…” She hesitated, probably because sharing material from her visions didn’t come easily.
“What have you seen?” Jamal asked, keeping his voice soft.
“Far worse prisons than those already here. Soon the Nazis will begin construction of a place near Oswiecim, Poland. That’s not far from Krakow. They will call it Auschwitz, and many Rom will die there. Shifters too, although we will not fare as badly as the Romani and Jews.”
“Define many.” Michael’s voice was strained.
“Hundreds of thousands.”
A collective gasp moved through the group.
Meara made a chopping motion with one hand. “We cannot afford to lose ourselves in horror and our own fears. I’ve been alive for a long time, and if we are cunning and quick, we might be able to defeat the future that’s shown itself in my glass.”
“Have ye thwarted destiny afore?” Stewart asked.
She nodded gravely. “It’s why I know it’s possible. Not easy, but possible. The foretold future will fight to have its way, but nothing is absolute.”
“How soon will the vampires be here?” Michael asked. “We will need to do the same thing we did before. Form teams and take them on simultaneously.”
“Exactly.” Meara smoothed the dirt in front of her, picked up a stick, and began to draw something that looked like a diagram. When she looked up, she said, “This is a very defensible position. It’s why I picked it. You haven’t been here long enough to explore, but this shelf only butts up against a cliff here.” She pointed with the stick. “If you move past where you have the horses”—she pointed again—“there’s a steep drop off. The area at the bottom is riddled with caves. Once upon a time, they were shifter hideaways, but none of us have used them for years. Rather than burning the vampire remains, we can spirit them into a cave and seal it with magic.”
“Will they be dead?” Cadr asked in a surprisingly steady voice.
Meara shrugged. “Dead is relative. Vampires aren’t exactly alive, using anyone else’s definition. It’s why burning them is a failsafe, a guarantee they can’t jump bodies.”
“Och aye, and such a large fire would draw attention to our location,” Stewart muttered. He stretched his hands in front of him, flexing his fingers. “Shouldna be all that difficult. We did it once afore. Second time should be smoother.”
“We do have that advantage,” Elliott said, “although I’d hoped for a longer break between last time and when we had to face them again. Do you know how many we face?”
“I saw ten,” Ilona answered.
“Easier than last time,” Tairin gritted out.
“Don’t make that mistake,” Meara cautioned. “Last time, we surprised them. This time, they’ll assume we’re ready for them, and they won’t be scrambling to mount a defense.”
“What’s the best we can hope for?” Ilona asked.
“That if we destroy this batch, they’ll think twice before targeting us again,” Meara answered.
“I’ll sign on for damn near anything that discourages other vampires,” Michael said.
“But if they’re working hand in glove with Hitler as we suspect,” Stewart broke in. “We’ll end up with the Third Reich breathing down our necks. They’ve already targeted the Romani for extermination—”
“Yes, you’ll have to move from here.” Meara raked a hand through her hair. “The best place for your people is in shifter households.”
Vreis made a rude, snorting sound. “How do ye see that working, madam shifter? The best place for us is in the British Isles, but it may as well be the moon for how inaccessible ’tis.”
“I see it working”—she eyed him—“because we’re all committed to maintaining magic in this world. Once it dies out, humankind won’t be far behind.”
“What about the other ten caravans?” Michael asked. “Will any of them make it out of Germany?”
Meara made a noncommittal gesture with one hand. “At least two have chosen to hide themselves, much as you’ve done. They may survive. The others will be detained crossing into other countries. Their possessions will be stripped from them, and they’ll end up in the camps.”
A long, low moan rose from Ilona, but she cut it off fast.
Jamal wanted to go to her, gather her close, but what comfort could he offer? The world had turned into exactly what she feared. A place hostile to gypsies.
“I’m glad Mother’s not alive to see this,” she muttered. “And she would have seen it—all of it—in water or her glass.”
Meara looked from Michael to Stewart. “Talk with your people. See who will fight. I can hide the others in the caves. They’ll be safe there. Meanwhile, I’ll return to the shifters in the area. I need them here sooner rather than later, and I need to sort who will be the strongest warriors.”
“Do ye need us to come up with more amulet material?” Stewart asked.
“It would be helpful, but if it’s too risky to go into Munich to the priest who helped with holy water and consecrated earth before, don’t chance it.”
Jamal felt a change in the air currents and shielded his eyes. For once, Meara’s shift didn’t catch him unaware.
Cadr and Vreis shot to their feet, eyes trained on the skies. “By Christ and all the bloody saints, I wish I could to that,” Vreis mumbled.
“Aye.” Cadr nodded. “’Twould be a handy trick to have to hand.”
Stewart stood. “Come on, both of ye,” he said. “We must do some sorting and see who wants to face down vampires.”
“From the sound of things,” Elliott said, “it might also go down well if you identified some folk who are game to sneak into the other work camps. What Tairin and I did was simple enough…”
Words flowed around Jamal as he got to his feet and walked to where Ilona crouched. She might tell him to go to hell, but he wanted to offer what paltry emotional support he could. He knelt next to her and asked, “How are you doing?”
After a pause so long he felt certain she wasn’t going to answer, she trained her restless, gray eyes on him. Up close like this, he saw silvery flecks dance around her pupils. “Truth?”
“Of course.”
She pushed to her feet. “Feel like a walk? Sitting still isn’t working for me.”
Jamal stood and slipped a hand beneath her elbow. Maybe he shouldn’t have touched her, but she didn’t shake him off. “Where would you like to walk?”
“Back to where I saw the vampires in trance.”
“Not safe,” his wolf said.
“What was that?” Ilona darted her gaze from side to side.
“My wolf. Come on. We can talk more when we’re a little bit away from here.”
“Don’t go too far,” Tairin cautioned. “My wolf can always find yours, but still…”
“We won’t,” he reassured his daughter and set off at a moderate pace, still holding onto Ilona.
“What did your wolf say?” Ilona asked when they were far enough away it would be impossible to overhear them without employing magic.
“That it wasn’t safe to return to where you’d seen the vampires.” He slowed and turned her to face him. “How about if you start by telling me what happened?”
Ilona chewed on her lower lip. “I can do that. Not much to tell. You already know I saw vampires attack this camp, but it didn’t happen right away in my trance, which is how I know the attack won’t come today or tonight or probably even tomorrow.” She straightened her spine. “The creepy part, and what I’ve never had happen before, is one of the vampires reached through my spell. He saw me, felt me.”
Jamal gripped her hands. “Maybe you imagined it.”
“She didn’t,” the wolf spoke up.
“Your wolf just said something, didn’t he?”
“Would you like to be able to talk with it?” Jamal answered her query with one of his own.
Ilona nodded. “Why do you refer to the wolf as it? Don’t you know if it’s male or female?”
“I don’t. The bond animals are genderless. It’s always been that way. If I shift and you meet my other form, then you’ll be able to hear it and even engage it in conversation.” He hesitated. “That might come in useful if for some reason you’re angry or tired of me but need to communicate anyway.”
“Yes. I want to meet your wolf but only so I can hear him, er it, when it speaks.”
