by Bianca D'Arc
Duncan got a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. Blood magic was among the most foul…and evil.
“There had been a man in the car that went down an embankment. Another car had crashed into him and was still at the side of the road, with damage, but drivable. Another car had stopped behind that one and was clean. Six people surrounded the bleeding man, who had crawled out of the wreck of his car, and they were chanting. One bent down and dipped his fingers in the blood of the injured man and in my vision, a red flare of magical energy surrounded the circle they’d formed around the bleeding man.”
Josh’s face reflected the horror he’d probably felt at seeing such things. By his reactions, Duncan was getting a clearer image of what Josh was all about. This was no ordinary werewolf that had come to call. No, Joshua McCann was something altogether different.
“I understood what they were doing, though I’d never seen or heard of anything like that before. Those six had run this guy off the road deliberately and were trying to steal his magic. I realized the bleeding man must’ve been a mage—as were the six jokers around him. Something inside me just sort of snapped seeing what they were doing to someone who was completely helpless and badly injured. My wolf didn’t like the flavor of their magic and I guess…I kind of went a little crazy. I…attacked them.”
Josh swallowed visibly, seeming to be lost in the memory.
“You did the right thing,” Duncan said quietly, jolting Josh out of the memory and back to the present. “I have no doubt from what you describe that you assessed the situation correctly. I am surprised though, that you were able to survive six mages in wolf form when your magic is untrained. Tell me how the battle went,” Duncan invited.
“I pounced on the one with blood on his hands first. I took him from behind, following him down to the ground. I went for his throat and got him before the others seemed to realize what was happening. A quick kill.”
“And a justified one, in case you were wondering,” Duncan added. “Anyone who deals in the blood of innocents is irredeemable in my book.”
Josh tilted his head. “Good to know.” He went on to describe the rest of the battle—how the enemies tried to throw magic at him, but they were disorganized by the loss of their leader and then one by one, they were either taken down or ran away. “Two mages ran,” Josh concluded. “But they came after me a week or two later and I killed them then. The other four died on the spot. The first, I took out wolf style, like I said, but then something happened. Something sort of exploded inside me and there was this blinding white light.” His expression was grim. “I didn’t know what was going on, but when I looked around after the flash, the remaining three who had been battering me with magical bolts and fireballs were all on the ground, dead.”
“What of the man they’d been attacking?” Duncan asked. The answer to that question would reveal quite a bit.
“He was still breathing,” Josh confirmed. “I shifted to human form and carried him up to the damaged car the two runners had left behind. It was okay to drive, just smashed up a bit on the front end. I took the man to a clinic and left him there after I made sure someone found him and took him inside for treatment. Then I went wolf again and took off.”
What Josh had just described must’ve been a very rude awakening of a power that had lain dormant all of Josh’s life. It had taken enormous strain of the magical kind to rouse his innate power, but when it had happened, it had done the right thing—destroying evil and protecting the innocent. Duncan could work with that.
In fact, he would encourage that in any being, but particularly a werewolf hybrid of such power that a single blast of his magic could take out three evil mages at once. They’d need people with such abilities if the Destroyer should return to this realm, as Duncan very much feared was about to happen.
“You said the other two hunted you after that,” Duncan prompted Josh to continue with his tale.
“Yeah,” Josh rubbed a weary hand through his shaggy hair. “Them and all their evil little buddies. It’s been battle after battle ever since. I couldn’t go back to visit Mom. I didn’t want to bring violence to her door, though I’ve been able to call her now and again. I haven’t told her what’s been happening. I didn’t want to worry her.”
“What of your sire? Is he also a werewolf?” Duncan asked, having to stop himself from leaning forward in anticipation of the answer.
“Never met him. He left before I was born and Mom won’t talk about him. I don’t ask because I know it hurts her. He was human I’ve always assumed he didn’t feel the mating bond the same way Mom did.”
It was significant to Duncan that the young man didn’t seem to know or care about his sire’s origins. A spell perhaps? Or hurt feelings? Perhaps he had cultivated a disinterest to protect his mother in some way. From what Duncan knew of shifters, if one mate disappeared, the other was likely to suffer greatly, perhaps even die of the heartbreak. That Josh’s mother had survived to raise him spoke well for her, and the warmth in Josh’s voice when he talked about his mother impressed Duncan greatly. Family was important, even to fey, though he knew it was the vital center of shifter existence.
“So, what led you to my door, Josh?” Duncan asked in that same gentle tone. He’d already learned more about the man than the young werewolf realized, but he needed to know more.
Josh sat back, more at ease with the turn of the conversation. “A wise woman in Indiana sent me in this direction, to find you specifically. She said you might be able to help me.”
“A wise woman, indeed.” Duncan sat back in his chair and regarded the younger man. He weighed the available options and came to a quick decision. “I’m afraid that I’m going to have to send you on to another wise woman. You need some time away from the hunt to regroup and rebuild your energies. You also need a bit of peace and quiet in which to learn to control your newfound magic.”
“I do?” Josh looked as if he wanted to agree, but also like he wanted to rip something apart in frustration. Then, he subsided. “Yeah, I do.” He ran one hand through his shaggy hair. “But I’m no fit company for a delicate female right now.”
“She is female, and delicate by some standards, but she is more powerful than you might expect, and she’s the perfect person to give you a chance at healing before you tackle those who would continue to harass you.” Duncan leaned forward, watching Josh intently. “The first thing you need to know is that the power coursing through your veins right now is of the fey realm. Somehow, a channel has opened up between you and your lost heritage. I’m not sure how or why, but, my friend, I am in no doubt as to your nature. You’re at least part fey.”
Josh looked stunned. “No fucking way.”
Duncan only smiled.
CHAPTER ONE
Lancaster County, Pennsylvania
Deena Lovett patted her horse, Buccaneer, on the nose as she left the barn. She didn’t strictly need to have a horse, but she figured it was one of the perks of living out here in the middle of Pennsylvania Amish country. She could take in all the strays she wanted, and nobody could complain. In fact, her neighbors often shook their heads at the odd assortment of critters she’d collected around her.
There was Samson, the retired plow horse, and Maisy, the aging cow. Both had come to her as payment for services rendered, though she didn’t usually request payment of any kind. She operated on a barter system that kept her in fresh produce, eggs and dairy, while allowing her to help neighbors with her healing skills.
Every once in a while, though, when she visited a farm where one of her patients lived, she felt the pull of an animal spirit. Usually, it was an animal that wanted a peaceful life after years of service to an ungrateful owner. While most farmers cherished their animals, there were a few—thankfully precious few—who saw their stock only as commodities.
Samson and Maisy would have been sold to a slaughterhouse if Deena hadn’t asked for them in payment, and the animals knew it. Or sensed it. Deena wasn’t clear on just
how much they comprehended, but they certainly understood emotion. They knew when unkind thoughts were directed at them.
Buccaneer had come to her in a similar way, but he’d just been a foal at the time. A foal born with a bad leg that his owner could not afford to fix. Deena had taken one look at the limping foal and fallen in love. She’d also known that, with time and all her skill, she would be able to help the little fella.
And so, she had. Buccaneer had grown into a fine specimen, and in recent years, he’d become sought after as a stud by some of the more adventurous farmers. So far, all of his foals had been born without any problems, proving that the leg issue hadn’t been genetic, but rather an accident of the way he’d come into this world.
Either way, Deena loved him, and she sensed a similar feeling from him. Horses were amazingly intelligent, if a bit high strung, and she enjoyed them tremendously. As she walked into the stable yard, she was greeted by two more of her residents. They were newcomers, but they were proving to be the comic relief.
Pedro and Maria were alpacas. They had fluffy white and curly light brown fur, respectively. They’d both developed a bad infection that had almost taken their lives, along with the rest of their herd, but the farmer had finally called her after the local veterinarian had given up. Deena had cured the herd, and the farmer had given her the pair of elder fluff-butts in thanks.
Deena was currently learning how to shear the alpacas, and then, she might be able to use their super-soft wool to knit things. It got cold enough in the winter—and boring enough, at times—to make her interested in the idea of filling some of her hours knitting by the fire. Plus, alpaca wool was way better than sheep’s wool. No lanolin to contend with, and it wasn’t itchy. That was a big advantage. And if Deena couldn’t use it herself, there was always a market for the stuff, so she could sell it and keep Pedro and Maria in style.
They followed her around the barnyard a lot of the time, two big, fluffy shadows. Today, though, after greeting her, they retreated into the barn’s open door. That was unlike them, so Deena opened her senses, wondering what was going on. Sure enough, she felt the change in the magic surrounding her land. Someone was nearing her outermost ward.
Intrigued, Deena walked toward the house, keeping an eye toward the long drive that led in from the road. Her wards were set all around the boundaries of her property. She would know the moment the owner of the strange magic crossed onto her land.
Josh wasn’t altogether sure about this. Duncan had snuck him out of Manhattan in the dead of night, using his considerable fey magic to foul their trail. The trip from New York to the farmland of Pennsylvania hadn’t been too long. Just over three hours by car, and they were looking at rolling fields and cow pastures.
Duncan had dropped Josh literally at the side of the road with a letter in his hand. He’d pointed the way up a long, dusty gravel drive and then sped off. Josh knew that Duncan was going onward to throw any possible tails off his track, but it still felt a lot like being abandoned by the only person who had even half a clue about Josh’s current problem.
And now, here he was, a stranger in a very strange land. Josh had lived rough, but he’d never lived on what looked like a working farm, with the strangest amalgamation of animals he’d ever seen together in one place. He swore he’d even seen two alpacas before they ran away in fright from his inner wolf.
There didn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason to the collection of animals. Most looked past their prime. As if this was some kind of weird retirement home for old creatures who’d been put out to pasture. Only these animals looked well cared for. Not as if they’d been forgotten when the useful portion of their lives had passed.
They had glossy coats and what he judged to be happy expressions, though they all eyed him with suspicion. At least the ones that had stuck around to watch him walk up the gravel drive. The more timid had already fled into the barn, or maybe behind it, putting space between themselves and the predator that lived in Josh’s soul.
Josh felt a little thrill of magic sparking off his own when he crossed over some invisible barrier. He paused and shook his head.
“What the hell was that?” he said aloud, to himself.
“That was my ward. You are now trespassing on my land.” The soft voice came from behind him. Josh spun, but no one was there. He turned back, his head on a swivel, wondering if he’d imagined the feminine tones.
And then, there she was. Standing just in front of the porch of the sprawling farmhouse, looking dainty and demure in her denim skirt and worn baseball jersey. She had mud-covered boots on her feet and heavy work gloves in one hand, as if she’d just taken them off.
“Are you the priestess?” Josh asked, unwilling to show how uncomfortable he was with the fact that she’d managed to sneak up on him.
Her head tilted as if she was considering his words, then she nodded. Just once. “Who are you?”
“My name is Joshua McCann. I have a letter here from a mutual friend named Duncan. He wanted me to give it to you. I think he explained a bit about me in there, though I haven’t read it myself.” Josh held up the sealed envelope in one hand as she walked toward him.
He tried to move, but discovered his feet were glued in place somehow. He was restrained by magical means, and he suddenly realized just how powerful this small woman might be. He’d never had too much to do with priestesses—at least until recently—but all shifters who followed the Light respected them and their reputed power. He was intrigued to learn the reputation wasn’t an exaggeration. This woman held him in place without much effort, judging by her casual stroll down from the house to meet him.
She stopped just out of arm’s reach, darting forward briefly to take the letter out of his hand. She retreated immediately to her safe distance where he couldn’t grab her or try anything physical, frozen as he was by her magic.
She opened the letter and spent a moment reading it over, her expression giving nothing away. When she was done, she looked up at him, squinting a little as if giving him some sort of once-over.
“Well, aren’t you just a furry ball of surprises?” she finally said.
He wasn’t imagining it. She was definitely looking him up and down now. He almost asked if she wanted to check out his teeth while she was at it. He felt like he was being sized up to see if he was worthy to join the other animals in her barn.
“I’m not sure what Duncan said in the letter, but I need help from someone who knows what the hell is going on with my magic all of a sudden. I got sent to Duncan by a wise woman, and now, he’s pushed me off onto you.” Frustration sounded in his voice, but he didn’t care. “If you want to pass the buck on to someone else, then I’ll gladly leave, but I’m getting tired of being sent on wild goose chases.”
She considered him for a moment. “It must irk your inner wolf to never actually catch the goose, right?” Then, she smiled, just faintly, but it was a friendly smile all the same. “All right. I can see you’ve had a rough time, and that’s kind of my specialty.” She gestured around her at all the misfit animals in her care. “I’ll try to help you, but we need to set a few ground rules first.”
He regarded her steadily. “What are your terms?”
“First, no going wolf in front of my livestock. Some of them have been traumatized enough already and don’t need to realize there’s a giant predator living among them. If you need to shift, there’s a cornfield out back. I’m sure there are vermin trails out there that might satisfy any hunting or tracking need you might feel. Or you could make yourself useful and patrol the borders of my land. I have wards—as you’ve already experienced—but extra vigilance is never wasted. You just have to be stealthy about it and not be seen by my neighbors. They’re okay with dogs, but massive wolves might stir them into a tizzy.” The corners of her mouth tilted up a bit in humor, and he found himself watching her mouth more than he probably should.
“I can agree to that,” he told her, deliberately looking away so he wouldn’t stare at
her lips too long. “What else?”
“I mentioned the neighbors. They’re mostly Amish, which means they won’t be thrilled at me—a single woman—having a single man living under my roof. We’ll have to pretend to be related if anyone comes around. I’m not sure if they’ll believe it, but it’s worth a try.”
Josh had to stifle a laugh. “Okay, cuz.”
She smiled and tilted her head, studying him again. “I’m Deena Lovett, by the way. Where are you from?”
“I grew up in North Dakota, but my mother is from a small Canadian Pack originally.”
“Where is she now?” Deena asked, a little frown on her face.
“Still in North Dakota. She’s got a little place on the edge of a larger town. She’s safe.” He decided to share a bit more since this woman seemed genuinely concerned. “I realized I couldn’t go home when my magic started attracting all the wrong sorts of attention from all the wrong people. I couldn’t bring that kind of danger to her door.”
“I’m sorry,” she told him, and he believed her. She had a compassionate face. Something he hadn’t seen too often living in the wild these past months.
Josh tried to shrug off her words…and his reaction to them. He’d only just met this woman. He didn’t understand why she got to him so easily. Maybe it was some kind of priestess mojo. Yet, the wise woman he’d dealt with earlier on his journey hadn’t affected him this way. Not at all.
“So. The rules.” She took a deep breath as if regrouping. “No magic practice in the house. I have a shielded circle out back in a stand of trees you can use. It’s safer, and nobody will bother you there.”
