by Ann Gimpel
“The council’s been defunct since we set foot in North America,” Niall muttered.
“We’ll form a new one.” Stephan shut his jaw with an audible clack. “Will you work with me, or is that job of yours more important?”
Color spread from Niall’s chest upward, reddening his skin. He was angry. Stephan had that effect on people with his cut-to-the-chase way of addressing issues.
Sarai tried out various placating statements, a skill she’d learned from Marie, but none of them fit. They were at a crossroads, and if they didn’t fight back, the combination of mage and vampire power could be their undoing.
Perhaps.
She wasn’t as certain as her uncle and Niall that humans couldn’t be reasoned with. The ones who patronized her shop were charmed by the unseen world. Whether their fascination extended to the reality of her being able to shift into a wolf was a huge unknown. When she’d taken a chance and revealed herself to humans thirty-five years ago, it had gone so badly, her parents exiled her.
That was how she’d ended up with Stephan and Marie.
Niall raked his hands through his hair, making muscles ripple through his chest and upper arms. Sarai tried not to look, but it was a losing battle. The man oozed come-fuck-me vibes. She bet he didn’t spend too many nights alone, and the thought made her come alive with hunger.
Is that what was wrong with all the men Marie marched through here? I found them too tame for my taste?
“Let me do this,” Niall was saying. “I’ll teleport home, dress, and get my car. I do want to stop by the paramedic office and let them know I have to take some time off. A family emergency in Ireland might buy me enough time.” He paused long enough to take a measured breath. “I’ve learned not to burn my bridges. I like being an EMT, and if I stay in this region, they’re the only employer.”
Sarai’s ears perked up. Emergency medicine was a perfect Gemini vocation with a constantly changing backdrop of crises. “When’s your birthday?” she blurted, and then shook her head. “Sorry, I have no idea where that came from.”
“I do,” her uncle said sourly. “It’s that psychic shop of yours. You got taken in by your own line of bullshit with charts and tarot and whatever else you do down there.”
She bristled and stood straighter. “Women work now. It isn’t like it used to be where my mother did the same things I do, but for free. I like what I do. There’s truth in my charts—and my readings. I have customers who come back over and over.” Her tone grew more pointed. “They don’t consider what I do bullshit.”
“Neither do I,” Niall cut in smoothly, in pure Gemini peacemaker mode. “My birthday is May twenty-first.” He continued without a break. “I’m a zero-degree Gemini with a Virgo moon and Aries rising. I’ve been told it’s an unusual presentation.”
“It is, and—”
Stephan shook his head. “Not now.” He jerked his chin at Niall. “Best get moving. When will you return, or should we meet elsewhere?”
“I plan to drive back. It will allow me to maximize my telepathy range if I send a repeating message as I travel. I used to live in Denver. Matter of fact, it’s the spot I was before I moved to Glenwood Springs a few months back.”
“I know many of the local shifters,” Stephan said. “Denver is as good a spot to start as any. Angus O’Reilly runs the feedstore, and it has a decent-sized meeting room in the back. I’ll let you know if he doesn’t agree with using his shop for a gathering spot.”
“I’ll catch up with you there. Unless I hear otherwise, I’ll let everyone know to meet at Angus’s as soon as they can.” Niall inclined his head in Sarai’s direction. “I’d appreciate it if you put a solar return together for me. Haven’t had one done for a long time.”
“I’d love to.” She ignored the way Stephan had narrowed his eyes. “Time and place of birth, please.”
“Milford, Ireland, or close enough at ten minutes past three in the morning.”
“What year?”
“Aye, that’s always a kicker, huh?” Niall transferred his attention to Stephan. “Here’s where we discover I should be calling you youngster. I was born in the year of our lord—who’s no lord to shifters—1563.”
Breath whooshed from her as magic flared around Niall, and he faded into motes of multicolored light. “Did you know how old he was?” she demanded.
Stephan frowned, appearing a little taken aback. “No. He was damned closemouthed about anything on the ship—except charming the next lady in line.” He tapped her chest with his index finger. “Mark my words, niece. He’ll bring you nothing but heartache. I saw the flare of heat betwixt the two of you. He’ll not stand by you past the bedding part.”
“What if permanence isn’t what I’m looking for?” She tossed her shoulders back. It was long past time for Stephan to stop treating her like an errant daughter in need of direction. Marie’s death would only make that tendency worse, and she had to nip it in the bud.
“What are you looking for in a man?” Stephan dropped a hand on her shoulder.
“I don’t know, but it’s not any of the shifters you and Marie thought were suitable for me.” She slithered from beneath his grip. “I’m going into town. I’ll meet you at the feedstore in an hour or two.”
“We will drive together.” Stephan’s tone brooked zero possibility of disagreement. “It’s not safe. Look what happened to three of us together.”
“But we didn’t know. We weren’t warded.” A shudder racked her, followed by another. She didn’t want her familiar world to crash down around her head, but she couldn’t ignore their narrow escape, either.
“I won’t be long.” Stephan hurried into the room he’d shared with Marie.
Sarai closed her teeth over her lower lip. Her uncle had just lost the woman he’d loved for well over a century. He had to be grieving, but he wasn’t letting pain get in his way. Stephan had an inner strength that cut at least two ways. It made him a formidable ally in any crisis, but it also meant he wasn’t particularly flexible in terms of how he viewed the world.
He strode toward her dressed in his usual faded Levi’s, a Western shirt, and a woolen jacket. Scuffed cowboy boots graced his feet, and he’d brushed his hair back from his face securing it with a leather thong tied low on his neck.
Sarai placed a hand on his arm. “I don’t want to fight with you, and I’m so very sorry about Marie. I loved her too. We’ll both miss her terribly.”
Stephan offered her a ghost of a smile. “I’ve never been much of a seer, but I believe these next few months will be hard. Marie may be better off. She hated conflict, and she’d have worried herself silly every time either of us left the house.”
“Hiding out is an option, huh?” Sarai dragged a jacket off a hook and slid into it. She slung her bag over one shoulder.
“Yes. We could ward the house and ourselves and let the rest of the world implode around us, but we’re not doing that.”
He held the door open, and she walked through. They’d never made a habit of locking anything up, but she heard the snick of the deadbolt as her uncle secured their home. It wouldn’t slow a vampire down, but then they didn’t wander about in broad daylight, either.
He fired the beefy pickup they used to haul everything from hay to stock, and she clambered in on the passenger side. Marie’s wildflower scent permeated the cab, and it took effort not to break down sobbing.
“Everything’s happening really fast,” she murmured.
“It usually does,” Stephan agreed, adding, “When magic gets loose, and is used for ill rather than good, events spiral out of control quickly. I was part of the last war with the mages. I was truly young then, not quite twenty, and it opened my eyes to how easily evil gets its claws into a person.”
“You never talk about it.” Sarai cast a sidelong glance across the cab.
“No reason to cull up unpleasantness. Besides, any talk of the war made Marie uncomfortable. She’d tell me it was long since over and done with, and for me
to put it behind me. She assumed magic would never confront its own again, that we’d learned our lesson the first time.”
Sarai drew her brows together, thinking. “It’s not the only magical war, though. Only the most recent one.”
Stephan tightened his grip on the wheel, turning his knuckles white. “This is precisely the reason I insisted on sending you to school once your parents decided you’d be better off with us.”
Sarai ground her jaws, remembering. She’d been about fifteen and in full rebellion, shifting in daylight in front of humans. Her father, another wolf shifter and Stephan’s brother, got sick and tired of wiping memories. He’d driven her deep into the desert east of Los Angeles one night and dumped her out of the car. She’d been afraid he was going to leave her. Instead, he’d piled out of the car too and shifted, growling a challenge.
She’d thought he wasn’t serious until she shifted and understood this was a fight to the death—unless she surrendered.
Surrender wasn’t in her vocabulary. Not at her age, so the wolves had tussled and bitten and rolled in the dust until their coats were streaked with blood. Her father’s wolf was larger, heavier, but she was more agile. Finally, he got her in a chokehold, jaws poised over her vulnerable neck.
He was so angry, she didn’t trust him not to finish her off, so she’d dropped her head to the side, a sign of submission. He’d let her up, but not right away. It was after that, she’d moved in with Stephan and Marie.
“Thank you for taking me in—and for the schooling,” she murmured.
“You are quite welcome. My brother is a hothead, but he never gave up on you, never stopped loving you. He still checks up on how you’re doing.”
“Really?” Her eyes swam with the tears that had been close to the surface since Marie was killed in front of her. “How come I never knew?”
“He didn’t want you to, and I honored his wishes.”
The truck rattled to a stop. When she looked out the window, she saw the building her shop was in.
“Go on,” he urged. “Get out. Be careful to ward yourself. I’ll return in about half an hour.”
“How’d you know I wanted to come here?”
A smile ghosted around his mouth. “I know you better than you think. You want to consult your arcane bag of tricks—and do a chart for your new friend.”
She scooted across the seat and threw her arms around Stephan’s neck, kissing his cheek. “Thank you.”
“You have your cell phone in that bag?”
“Yeah. The battery is low, but I’ll charge it in my shop.” She slid toward the passenger door and got out. A quick scan didn’t yield any strange magic nearby, but it paid to be careful. Winding a ward around herself, she walked into her building and took the stairs to her basement shop.
Her uncle honked once, and she heard the chug of the truck’s diesel engine as he drove away.
She fished in her bag for her keys and unlocked the door to Sarai’s Charms and Crystals, taking care to secure it behind her. This wasn’t a day she wanted to light the open sign.
It was good of Stephan to leave her here. He was a kind man beneath the layer of bluster. She was lucky to have him in her life, and she’d make a point of telling him. Who knew what the next few days would bring?
Moving to a window, she pulled two magical history books from a shelf and began to read. The best way to arm herself for what was coming was to refresh her knowledge of what had gone before. She’d read for a bit, and then she’d feed Niall’s information into her computer program. She’d have to insert a few adjustments to accommodate his birth year, but she wanted his chart more than he did.
It would tell her if they were destined for one another.
Her mouth curved into a smile, and her body came alive. She shoved her lascivious thoughts to a distant spot, so she could concentrate on the dry prose spread before her.
Chapter 5
Niall nosed the Toyota along I-70’s ever-present traffic. His boss at the paramedic company had been so supportive about his mythical grandfather’s deteriorating medical condition, he’d felt guilty deceiving her. Lynda Miller had told him to take all the time he needed and not to worry about his job.
Dealing with Lynda reminded him of the last magical war where humans ended up collateral damage. He offered up a quick prayer he’d caught this one in time—at the front end. Today’s humans had far more sophisticated weaponry. If they jumped into the game, the outcome would be far worse. Bullets and magic weren’t a good mix, particularly when magic redirected those bullets back to the humans who had fired them.
With all the focus on paranormals in television and the movies, it wouldn’t take this batch of humans long to figure out silver-laced bullets, iron swords, and judicious use of salt and holy water solved most of their problems.
He’d done what he could to secure his home with magic, but he’d brought the sabers and hunting knives with him. The wooden jewelry box as well. No reason to leave it for mages or vampires to steal. They could cut through his wards like a hot knife through paraffin. Mostly, his protections were meant to discourage humans.
A neighboring car honked, and he scooted over. He had a long drive ahead, close to three hours if the traffic didn’t ease up, and he needed to pay closer attention. Sometimes he missed hansom cabs and horses and wagons. Life then had been simpler, lived at a slower pace, but humankind were all about bigger, better, and faster.
He’d grown used to it, but he didn’t like it.
He settled deeper into the car’s worn upholstery, avoiding the spring that poked his back, and chuckled. He definitely hadn’t fallen for the allure of bigger and better when it came to transportation. He drove old clunkers until something broke that he couldn’t fix, and then he bought another one.
As he drove, he thought about Sarai. What a beauty she was. Old enough to have some maturity, but young enough to still be spunky with a decidedly outspoken manner. The hot-tempered ones were hellions in bed. His cock stirred, liking the direction his mind was rolling toward. He rearranged his dick so it wasn’t bent double, straining against his snug trousers.
He snorted. He should be mapping battle strategy. Goddess knew he was rusty as hell, but then why shouldn’t he be? He hadn’t had to think about anything even remotely related to fighting until he tracked the vampires and plotted their destruction. Three vamps were nothing, though, compared with a legion of them fueled by mage power.
It brought up some thorny questions.
Were all the mages involved in this unholy alliance? If not, it would simplify things since shifters could leverage assistance from the ones who hadn’t been seduced by vampire trickery.
On the other hand, it was possible mages had approached vampires after plotting a latter-day retaliation for the war, but it seemed unlikely. That conflagration had been over and done with for centuries. Niall curled his brain into a pretzel but couldn’t come up with even one good reason for mages to suddenly decide to seek revenge—and the upper hand.
One of the downsides of magic wielders keeping to themselves, though, was he was horribly out of touch with anyone’s state of mind beyond his own. These were almost the first vampires he’d seen since migrating to the States. Until today, he’d been convinced they remained in the more southern parts of the country, notably around New Orleans where the voodoo culture was as good a cover as they were likely to find for their bloodsucking ways.
Not that they had a choice. Blood was food for them, but they could remain in a type of stasis for long periods of time. He wasn’t sure if they ever exactly died absent severe measures like his iron blades. They’d been a true scourge in earlier centuries. Formed from a pact between the devil and Sekhmet, Egyptian goddess of death and slaughter, they’d proven impossible to eradicate.
And now they’d targeted shifters and figured out a way to steal magic from them. Fury swept through Niall. His stomach tightened, and he forgot his fascination with Sarai—for the moment.
She
was impossible to remove from his consciousness for long.
Had this little tableau where vamps shanghaied shifters unfolded elsewhere, or was northern Colorado the pilot site for vampires to test their alliance with mages?
He checked on the telepathic message he had running like a tape loop. No one had replied to him, but part of his message was they didn’t need to. Everyone was supposed to head for the feedstore in Denver.
How many would “everyone” comprise? If it was more than a hundred, they’d stick out like a sore thumb. And they wouldn’t fit in Angus’s establishment. They could always regroup elsewhere. Maybe one of the many ghost towns dotting Colorado’s mountains. Quite a few were truly deserted because the roads leading to them had long since fallen to ruin or been wiped out by avalanches.
The more he thought about it, the better he liked the ghost town idea. He shut off the flow of his current telepathy and reached for Stephan. He could use his cell phone, but this was faster and far more private. Besides, he had no idea if Stephan even had a cell phone. Or what the number was.
“Hey, mate. You there?”
“Yes. At Angus’s. Where are you?”
“About ninety minutes out, but I had an idea that might keep us flying beneath everyone’s locater beacons.”
“I’m listening.”
Niall rattled off half a dozen ghost towns inaccessible by road.
“It’s a good idea. Around fifty of us are already here, and more are arriving every few minutes. Everyone is pretty spooked, I tell you. Also angry. I’m afraid their combined magic might get out of control.”
“Pick a location, and I’ll meet you there.”
“Golddust. I have to run by Sarai’s shop and grab her, and then we’ll head west.”
Niall sputtered. “What? You left her alone?”
“She’s warded. And inside. I’m sure she’ll be fine.”
Niall should leave well enough alone, but he couldn’t help himself. “Get back to me, mate. I have to know she’s safe.”
