by Ann Gimpel
“A very long time.” Jamal drew her against him and cradled her head against his chest. “I’d hoped since we face a bigger enemy than our own bigotry and in-fighting, our people would be more willing to open their minds. Particularly in light of Anubis’s deception.”
“It will happen.” She wriggled out of his embrace. Jamal was still furious, and it would be wise for them to do something other than standing there stewing. “Let’s find dinner. It must be past midnight.”
He laced his fingers with hers and they walked toward Tairin and Elliott’s wagon. It was a good choice, since Trina and her mother had probably retired long since. Ilona wanted to soothe Jamal, but lies had never come easy to her. If they managed to survive the Nazis, their next hurdle would be finding an enclave where they’d be welcome.
Most caravans wouldn’t want them—if caravans even existed when the war was over. From Gregor’s words, it appeared shifters were just as close-minded as Romani. They had more to protect, though, because their magic was stronger.
An unpleasant tingling twitched at the edges of her magical senses. At first, she thought it was because she was tired from hours of practice. The faint discordance pricked harder, and she stopped walking.
“Did you feel that?”
Jamal’s features looked like an angry thundercloud, and fury still sheeted from him. “Feel what? Sorry. I’m afraid I’m buried in resentment about what an ass Gregor was.”
“Would you like me to talk with his wolf?” the wolf spoke up.
Ilona’s heart melted. “It’s kind of you to offer, but probably better not to.”
“Why not?” the wolf asked.
“Because we don’t want Gregor to feel like any of us are ganging up on him. The wolf is his best friend, just as you’re Jamal’s. Even if it believes Gregor is wrong, you approaching it will place it in an awkward position.”
“I’m willing to chance it, but I won’t proceed without permission. Let me know if you change your mind.”
“I will.”
Jamal tightened his fingers, still intertwined with hers. “Wise counsel. I’d probably have sicced my wolf on his.”
Ilona rolled her eyes. “We need to get along with Gregor, not antagonize him.” She flinched as the same malevolence she’d felt before plucked the periphery of her power. “Do you feel that?”
“No. Not directly, anyway.” The air around him brightened as he sent power spiraling around them, no doubt seeking what she’d reacted to. Jamal frowned. “I don’t feel anything out of the ordinary, but then the barrier has its own hum that obliterates a whole lot.”
“Yes, I hear it. Kind of like a low-key buzz that’s always there. This is different. Much higher frequency, and I feel it more here.” She wrapped an arm around her middle.
“Do you sense it now?”
Ilona closed her eyes. The impression of wrongness had been subtle, barely there but annoying. Now she couldn’t feel it at all. “No.” She shrugged. “I’m probably imagining things. I’m tired and hungry. It can alter perception.”
Jamal wove an arm around her. “Be sure to let me know if whatever it is returns. Meantime, we’re almost to the wagon.” His nostrils twitched. “I smell food. Rabbit and greens.”
“Guess they had a successful hunt earlier.” Ilona’s stomach cramped from hunger. That had to be it. She’d imagined the pricking sensation because she’d blown through gobs of magic and her energy levels were failing.
They climbed into the wagon, fragrant with the smells of dinner, and Tairin handed her a bowl and a chunk of flatbread.
“Thanks.” Ilona settled with her back against a wall and dug in.
“I can shift and hunt if I need to. Are you sure there’s enough?” Jamal asked before taking the bowl Tairin held out to him.
“Yes. Elliott and I have eaten. We finished practice maybe three quarters of an hour ago.”
Jamal dug in before he’d even sat down. “Say, did you sense anything strange or out of the ordinary in the past few minutes?” he asked around a mouthful of the rabbit and wild onion stew.
Tairin drew her brows together. “No, but now that you mention it, Elliott thought he did. That’s why he’s not here. He went to the edge of the barrier to check on things.”
“He went, and now he’s back,” Elliott called softly from outside and let himself into the wagon, pulling the door shut behind him.
“Did you find anything?” Tairin asked.
Elliott shook his head. “Must’ve been my imagination. All was well where the barrier is thin, and I didn’t sense anything amiss betwixt here and there.”
“Well, it wasn’t just you,” Tairin went on. “Father asked if I’d sensed anything weird.”
Elliott crawled over to a pallet in the corner and sat with his knees drawn up. “What’d you think it was?” he asked Jamal.
“It was me.” Ilona placed her empty bowl on the floor next to her. “I felt an intrusion. It wasn’t blatant. More like an unpleasant, prickly sensation that activated my magical center.” She rolled her eyes. “After today’s practice, I’m surprised I have any magic left to detect anything.”
“Know what you mean.” Elliott rolled his shoulder blades to the accompaniment of cracking joints. “Is there any of that sweet tea left?”
“Yes. Anyone else want some?” Tairin twisted behind her and pulled a large, metal teapot front and center.
“Me.” Jamal grinned.
“I’d love some,” Ilona said, “but make sure Elliott has as much as he wants first.”
“Eh, we can always make another pot,” Elliott said and passed a mug to Tairin. “The thing that sent me outside didn’t feel quite like what you described. More like something that didn’t belong there waiting outside the barrier. It didn’t feel like vampire, though, and it was a long way away.”
“Do you still feel it?” Ilona asked and accepted a mug from Tairin. Maybe it was a Romani thing. Elliott might be a shifter now, but his predominant magic was still Rom. Tairin’s blood was mixed, but she definitely led with her shifter side.
“No. It was brief and now it’s gone. You?”
“Mine went away before we got here, and it hasn’t returned.” Ilona shrugged. “I’ve kind of chalked it up to being wiped out and running so much magic through my body.”
“Could have been it,” Elliott agreed.
They drank their tea in silence after that. Ilona’s eyes started to close, and she shook herself back awake. “Thanks again for feeding us. We’ll get out of your wagon so you can sleep.”
“What are families for?” Tairin smiled.
“I hope I can return the favor someday, daughter.” Jamal made his way across the wagon and unlatched the door, waiting for Ilona.
She let herself outside, joining him. “Want to go back to where we left the blankets?” she asked.
“We could, or I could retrieve them and we could lay them out beneath Michael’s wagon. Probably a better bet if it rains.”
Ilona glanced upward at a dark sky shot with stars. A slip of a moon flirted with the horizon. “No rain tonight. I say we chance it. We can always move if I’m wrong.”
“Sure you’ll be comfortable so far from everyone?”
“Yeah. I’ve pretty much decided whatever I sensed wasn’t really there. Come on.” She extended a hand and he clasped it, warming her chilled fingers. “It was kind of Tairin to share their meal with us. She’s an amazing woman. From what she told me, it was her suggestion to approach me—once all of you knew I was hiding in that little cleared area.”
“It was her idea, yes. And I’m proud of the person Tairin grew into. Long ago, she and her wolf turned a desperate situation to their advantage. She took a huge gamble, though.”
Curiosity sparked. “What was that? I don’t know much about being a shifter.”
“Egypt wasn’t a kind place for young, unmarried women, so she took to her wolf form. It solved many problems and kept her safe from being robbed, raped, or even murdered.
”
“But isn’t that what shifters do?” Ilona felt confused.
“Yes, but not like that. The human form is always primary. She remained a wolf for a hundred years. That’s very dangerous. After so long, she was damned lucky she could even find her human body. A caravan stumbled upon her naked and unable to talk because she couldn’t remember how. They took her in, nursed her back to health. I’ll be forever grateful to them.”
“What aren’t you saying?”
“Tairin forgave me for abandoning her. I’m still working out how to forgive myself, but I’m closer than I was when she located me to ask for help with the vampire nest.”
“Good. She wouldn’t want you to censure yourself. She’s not vindictive.”
“You don’t know her. She was on fire with anger when she showed up outside the shelter where I’d sequestered myself. I didn’t blame her.”
“Well, she’s not angry now.”
Ilona slipped between the elm’s generous branches and tucked herself into the blankets. They were damp on the outside from the night’s chill, but moisture hadn’t penetrated their dense weave.
Jamal joined her, gathering her into a heartfelt embrace. She hugged him back. No matter the reception they received from shifters like Gregor and Rom who hated shifters just as much, she’d made her choice.
“Thanks for being you and opening your heart to me,” she murmured.
“Ilona, liebchen. The path we’ve chosen won’t be an easy one, but we’ll pick our battles. Gregor wasn’t one of them. You were wise enough to see that.”
“Or maybe I’m a coward at heart and hate confrontations. Doesn’t matter.” She moved upward and closed her mouth over his.
He kissed her back, and dizzying heat enveloped her. Somewhere in the depths of their lovemaking, she clung to him, crying his name and wishing the night would never, ever end.
The same silver clouds from before surrounded her. Her first instinct was to struggle, cut the magic powering her trance, but she forced it aside. The goddess had information, things she needed to know. It was how these involuntary visions worked.
Ach, how the hell would I know that? I’ve only ever had one of them. Every other vision state resulted from my efforts.
Her breath came faster, and sweat dribbled down her sides. She reached for Jamal, but he wasn’t here. Which meant she’d left the plane where they’d fallen asleep, wrapped in each other’s arms.
Was her body here—or still back with Jamal? She suspected the latter and vowed to find out more, assuming she returned in one piece.
Same as before, she floated through a cloud forest. The cloud to her right quivered, and a bright red swastika formed, followed by dozens carved into every cloud as far as she could see. In synchrony, they all began to first ooze and then drip blood. Horror clotted her throat until breathing became a struggle. She tried to tell herself the liquid—that had moved from drips to torrents—wasn’t blood, but the sharp, metallic stench was unmistakable. The clouds took on a garish, red cast, eerie in the half-light of this place.
It cost her, but she sucked in steadying breaths. One. Another. Another. When she thought she could do something other than shriek and curl into a helpless ball of terror, she extended her hands, palms upward.
“Goddess. Tell me what you wish me to know.”
It was a common enough request when she viewed competing images in a pool or glass. Would it work here?
The medium she floated in exploded, showering her with slivers of something that burned and bit harshly. She wiped blood out of her eyes and off her face as she fell. Just like last time, she touched down easily and looked around. Unlike last time, she was by herself. No Rom. No shifters. Just her.
Another prison camp surrounded her. She must be invisible because guards and prisoners trudged by on either side. Ilona reached for the place her magic dwelt, relieved to find it intact. She started to summon power to move herself back to the world she’d left—or try to—when malignant magic speared her.
Ducking behind a barracks that stank of urine and death, she sheathed her magic fast. The wickedness had vampire stamped all over it. Shit! Were they everywhere? Or did they just lurk in the prison camps where they could feed off misery and blood?
Had the vampire sensed something when she attempted to activate her magic? Worse, did that mean she was stuck here?
Crap! Is there some link between the thing I sensed before dinner and me ending up here? Her head whirled as unknowns piled atop other unknowns into a dizzying mélange that threatened to swamp her.
Come on, she urged, understanding if she didn’t pull herself together, she’d be lost.
Think. I have to think. Got to take this one step at a time and solve what I can. Maybe if I can get outside the gates, then I can use magic to break the spell that has me in thrall.
I’m here for a reason, another voice chimed in.
She bit down hard to steady teeth that wanted to chatter. She was here for a reason, but what?
Could this possibly be the camp where Aron was?
There weren’t that many prison camps in Germany. Not yet, anyway. She looked around. This wasn’t Dachau, but she hadn’t spent enough time in Sachsenhausen-Oranienburg to get a feel for it.
Running on instincts that had rarely failed her, she shrouded her telepathy in layers of spells, called her brother’s name, and waited.
Minutes ticked past. Lots of them.
About the time she decided she’d read too many war novels with happy endings, a faint scratching tickled her third ear.
“Sissy?” The voice was hollow, faint, almost not there.
“Aron?”
“I told you not to come.” This set of words slapped her hard.
The vampire must have noticed too because its foul reek moved closer.
She shut up fast and swathed herself deeper in invisibility. At least she knew why she was here, but she’d have to piece a hell of a lot together on the fly. Could she somehow leverage the same energy that had transported her all the way across Germany to move her brother out of the camp?
She had no idea how dream energy worked, how it had snared her, or how to activate it to move herself back. Last time, the trance had spit her out when it was done with her. Presumably, when she’d seen what she was supposed to.
Ilona concentrated on what she knew. It was easier, and if she lost herself in all the unknowns, she’d sink into despair. As she mentally ticked off plusses, including the unexpected depth of her magical well, she moved toward her brother’s energy. Now that she knew he was here, she felt his presence like a beacon.
Maybe I don’t have to solve everything right now.
Aron had power of his own. Obviously, not enough to escape, but maybe he was still shackled in iron. How she’d manage to break his fetters remained to be seen, but first she had to find him.
Ilona had never been a praying type, but she prayed now. To Isis. To Arianrhod. To every Celtic and Egyptian deity she remembered. Between prayers, she hoped Jamal wouldn’t waken, sound the alarm, and put people at risk trying to find her. Time passed differently where she was, so differently it was possible no time at all had elapsed in the real world since she’d been snared by the trance.
Yeah, maybe if I returned right away, but that’s not going to happen. I couldn’t leave even if I wanted to.
Dreamer’s corridors like the one she was on only showed themselves to Romani seers—at least according to the lore books. She’d always thought the corridors were myth, fabrication.
Until now.
Elliott relied on props to strengthen his ability, which probably meant he’d studied the lore books. Everything she’d read had been on the sly since women weren’t allowed access.
Her chances of returning before her disappearance created apprehension were thin. Time might pass differently, but she had to first locate Aron, and then hammer out a way to free him. Presuming Elliott figured things out, which wouldn’t be all that hard, he’d plun
ge headlong into seer magic, hot on her trail. Meara would force her way through too. She was powerful enough, it just might work even though she wasn’t Romani…
Stay away, Ilona exhorted, her mind pedaling in tired circles. Stay away. Remain safe. I’ll solve this on my own.
She’d continued moving toward Aron, and he was close. Just behind the wall to her right. Taking a chance, testing the magic that had her in thrall, Ilona pushed against the concrete cinderblocks and slithered through them as if they weren’t a solid barrier. At least it answered one question. Her body was back in the other world. Maybe that meant her absence would escape detection.
And keep everyone she loved and valued safe.
Chapter 16
Ilona swallowed a horrified gasp. Aron lay on a dirt floor in a stinking pile of urine and shit stained rags. He was stick thin; sores covered his mostly naked body. She crouched next to him, and his eyes snapped open. The same gray as her own, they burned with fever.
It didn’t take healing magic to know her brother hovered at death’s gateway.
She wrapped her arms around him, but his body was real. Hers wasn’t and her arms moved through him, much as her body had migrated through the cinderblock wall.
“Not really here,” he muttered. “Must mean I’m dying. Seeing things.”
Ilona started to reply in telepathy, but that was what had drawn the vampire earlier. She didn’t have a body here. Did she have a voice?
No time like the present to find out.
“Part of me is here,” she said, following it with, “Can you hear me?”
He nodded, his fever-glazed eyes growing rounder. “What manner of magic is this?”
“I don’t exactly know.” She assessed his ankles and wrists. “They removed your shackles.”
A bitter laugh rumbled from his thin chest, followed by a long, racking cough. Aron flapped a hand down his body. “Probably recycled them for someone else. I’m not much of a threat. Hell, I can barely stand anymore.”
