by Patti Larsen
“One more thing to do and we’re ready to go.” I spot exactly what I’m looking for in a large parking lot across the street. We saunter over to the small econobox like we own it. Sage’s scowl never leaves him while my hands search the door handle. A touch of power and it’s unlocked, power I mask as carefully as I can. They might know we’re off the plane, but the Enforcers will have no idea where we ended up. As long as I’m not the only werewolf on the continent—I know for certain I’m not—this small dose of magic shouldn’t be noticed.
I hope.
The engine fires easily, and I grin at the full tank of gas. Whoever the owner is, I send them a thank you into the night as I pull out and onto the street, heading north and west.
“Next stop, California,” I say, trying to be cheerful.
Sage nods, looking out the passenger window. I focus on driving through the busy Miami streets, on the pedestrians and flashing lights that distract me. So, when Sage turns to me, I’m surprised by his anger.
“When this is over,” he says, “I don’t ever want to steal anything ever again.”
It’s hard not to glare back at him. He’s lucky, in fact, I’m busy with driving or he’d get a healthy smack for being an ass. “I already told you,” I say. “I’ll do anything to save you.”
“Fine,” he says, crossing his arms over his chest, “and I’m okay with that. But promise me.”
“You think I’m enjoying this?” Maybe a little, but he doesn’t have to know that. I take pride in how well I’ve been trained, how well I do my job. But he’s more than a job to me, and I love him too much to let this get between us.
“I don’t know.” Sage sighs, lets his arms go. “I just want this to be over.” He winces, rolls his left shoulder.
“Me, too,” I say. We come to a stop light and I bite my lower lip, wondering. “There could be another way.” Can I figure it out? How to transport us through the veil? Maybe, if we find a quiet place I can try it.
“That hole you made in the air?” He turns to me.
“It’s called the veil,” I say as we start moving again. The lights are bright in my eyes as I talk, cars flashing by. “It is the place between planes.”
“Planes.” Sage sounds confused, and I hardly blame him.
“There’s a lot more I haven’t told you,” I say.
He sits back with that sexy grin of his. “We have a long drive and lots of time.”
Maybe not, if I can figure this out. When we come to the next light, I pull over into a gas station parking lot. I turn to him when I park, taking his hand in mine.
“Okay,” I say, “here it is. There are thousands of worlds, all connected by the veil. It’s like a curtain keeping all the planes apart. But there are certain people who can cut through it and even use it to travel from place to place. Or plane to plane.”
Sage swallows, nods. “Got it,” he says. “Not sure I believe it, but okay.”
I roll my eyes. “You’ve been in it, met a drach, and you still don’t believe?”
He swallows again. “Right, the dragon. I forgot about him.”
I laugh, I can’t help myself. “He’s called a drach,” I say. “And you’re taking this very well.”
Sage answers my laugh with a shaky one of his own, green eyes almost glowing in a trick of the light coming from the gas station through the car window. “Do I have any choice?”
“I’ve never been able to use the veil before,” I say. “Syd’s an old pro at it, and Piers. But he uses a different method than we do.” I don’t have time to explain all the different kinds of magic to him, not now. “My fear must have given me the boost I needed to cut through.”
“But without an exit,” Sage says.
I nod. “Because I didn’t have a plan,” I say. “I just wanted to get away from Andre. And save you.”
Sage’s eyes narrow, hand tightening around mine. “You’re going to have to tell me what he did to you.”
Not a chance. “If I can figure out how I did it,” I say, “access it consciously, we can dump this car right now and go direct to California.”
“No dragons?” Sage winks, grins, but he’s shaking a little. So brave, my love.
“Hopefully not this time,” I say. I reach inside as he watches me. I can feel his focus on me, his tension through the connection of our hands.
“What, now?” His voice squeaks slightly as the pitch rises.
“No time like it,” I say. “Now shush.”
It’s there, I feel it as I focus. The veil is right there next to me, all around me, and my magic is tied to it now. As though traveling through it once made the difference. This could work. To get to California now, tonight, with three days to spare… I’m sure I can find the answers I need in time.
But no matter how hard I pull, push, tug, cut, the veil remains closed to me. Frustration builds into an almost tangible thing inside the cabin of the little car until I finally open my eyes and blink into the bright lights of the gas station’s exterior.
“Slow way, huh?” Sage pulls me to him, kisses my forehead. “It’s okay, Charlie.”
I shake my head, fury replacing frustration a moment, wolf flaring in my eyes. I slam both hands down on the steering wheel before staring the engine.
Useless. We have a long drive ahead of us and I’ve just lost us two days in travel because I can’t figure out how to use my power properly.
It’s a quiet drive into the south Florida night.
***
Chapter Fifteen
The blush of dawn greets me in the rear-view as I push the pedal down and make the best time I can on the Florida interstate. We’re almost to Louisiana, but my hands want to steer north. It’s only a half day’s drive to Pennsylvania, to Wilding Springs. But it’s almost thirty more hours to Los Angeles. I’m insane, thinking I can do this on my own. I don’t even have to drive, I can just open my shields and call for Syd. She’ll be here in moments.
But I can’t. She has her own Council to listen to, her own laws to follow, despite her insistence on autonomy. I won’t risk her family, or mine, not until I have the proof I need of Caine and his pack’s revenant status and, hopefully, a cure for Sage.
He stirs beside me, sleeping through part of the drive, though restlessly. I’ve stopped him from clawing at his shoulder twice now, in his sleep, but he remained out cold so I let him stay that way. I’m tired, but I’ve endured worse. As soon as I find a place to pull over for food and a rest stop, I will. Maybe catch a few hours of sleep. But first, I need to replace the license plates on this car so we don’t get pulled over. Bad enough we’re hunted by Enforcers. It would just add insult to injury having to deal with normal law enforcement because I overlooked something as simple as stolen plates.
Ten minutes later, just on the other side of the Louisiana border, I pull over into a small gas station. Sage stirs as I park at the pump, eyes a wolf’s eyes in the moment of his waking. But he smiles and the wolf fades, the musky scent wafting out of the car as I open the door.
I leave him to pump gas, slipping around the back side of the station. It’s one of those combo service and gas stations with a few old cars in the weeds behind the building. A quick theft of some Louisiana plates from a clunky old truck and my job is done.
A plastic bag of junk food lands in Sage’s lap when I climb in. The cute girl behind the counter grinned at me when I loaded the packaged sandwiches, assorted snacks and big bags of chips on the counter, her sparkly made-up gaze going out the window to Sage.
I winked at her before returning to the car.
He tears into the first sleeve of chicken salad, helping himself in alternate bites to a full chunk of beef jerky while I drive off. Half a mile later, I pull over to switch out the plates and we’re on our way again.
But as I head back to the driver’s seat, I find Sage already claimed it.
“You’re bagged,” he says. “And I’m fine.” He sounds it, and when I let my power touch him, realize he feels it, too
. Almost chipper, his energy high, the scent of him almost happy. “I drive, you snooze.” I hesitate one last moment, whipping the bad plates into the woods on the side of the road. “Charlotte,” he says, voice dropping, “I mean it. I’m counting on you, remember?” Guilt. He uses guilt at a time like this. “Now, get in that seat and get some sleep before you fall over.”
I pause still. There’s no telling when a new round of change could take over. But he’s well fed and rested and showing no signs of pain anymore. Could he be recovering? Impossible, but I do need sleep.
“Wake me the moment something happens.” I fasten my seatbelt and recline, worried I’m making a terrible mistake.
“You mean if,” Sage says, pulling out onto the country road, heading for the interstate.
“I hope it’s ‘if’,” I say, closing my eyes, “but I know better.” And yet, luck has been on our side, has it not?
Regardless of my worry, sleep comes quickly and easily.
***
I open my eyes, wide awake, as the car comes to a halt. I sit up, find the sun is setting in front of us. A small building surrounded by a parking lot and picnic tables squats before us, several large trucks pulling in and out.
A rest stop. I turn to Sage who unbuckles his belt. He smiles at me, but his face looks pale, cheeks bright at the bones with pink spots. I reach for him, but he dodges me.
“Right back,” he says. He leaves me in the car, heading for the building and the washroom. I follow slowly, stretching out my muscles. He’s driven all day. I should have told him to wake me long before now. It’s clear he’s in pain again, from the washed-out look on his face.
No more. I’m driving from here on in. The sleep I’ve gained has given me the momentum I need to see us through to California.
I return to the car to find Sage in the back seat, eating again. He looks up as I climb in next to him. He’s parked us away from the lights surrounding the building, in a tiny pocket of darkness. I take the opportunity to snuggle up against him, happy to find a blanket on the floor at my feet. I pick at a sandwich while he finishes the rest of the food, my stomach happier for the sustenance.
Done, I toss the container aside and sigh, sinking back against the seat. We need to go, but it’s comfortable here with him, quiet and dark and peaceful. Sage pulls me against him, shares the last of the food with me. Sweet chocolate does the rest of the job reviving me, as much as the water I splashed on my face, the damp paper towels I used to wipe down. It’s not a shower and fresh clothes, but it will do.
“Charlotte.” I turn to look up at Sage. He’s staring down at me with a little smile, though he still seems pale to me. “In all of this, I’ve forgotten to thank you for saving my life.”
“And don’t you forget it.” I poke him softly in the stomach, brushing chip crumbs from his shirt. “You’re welcome. But we’re not out of this yet.”
Sage nods, pulling me closer. “Do you really think I can be healed?”
I don’t know how to answer.
“If you do,” he says, “I want to stay a werewolf.” His lips descending over mine. “So I can be with you forever. I love you, Charlotte.” He doesn’t give me the chance to answer, sadness crawling out of the pit in my gut. “But just in case it goes the other way,” he whispers over my mouth. “I want you to know how grateful I am.”
We don’t have time for this, but I can’t bring myself to reject him, not when my body and heart and soul crave him with every touch of his skin against mine. It’s insane and foolish. We’re on the run, in a rest stop on an interstate with the world going on around us. But when Sage kisses me again, I slip into his lap, straddling him, pulling the blanket over both of us.
It’s not romantic or private. But it’s all we’ve got. And I won’t squander this chance to be with Sage.
***
Chapter Sixteen
I drive into the night, Sage quiet beside me, the miles passing under the wheels of our stolen car. I stopped in Texas to change out the plates again, just in case, but there’s been no sign of pursuit, neither the normal kind nor the touch of Enforcers. So Andre has chosen to keep his mouth shut.
I just wished knowing that made me feel better.
Sage has been quiet since we left the rest stop, since our rapid love-making left us both panting and wanting more. I long to pull over into one of the small motels off the interstate and spend one last night with him. How lovely it could be, with his wolf emerging. I wouldn’t have to hold back. That thought startles me. I’ve always been so careful with him, for fear of doing something, out of passion, we’d both regret. My wolf understood, always, and still does. Now I realize such restraint is unnecessary.
Still, what would unbridled passion do to him? Would it speed up the process? His wolf emerged when he climaxed in the back seat, but only for a moment. If I were to let mine out, allow her to connect with him…
Too risky. And yet incredibly tempting. Which leads me to other thoughts I can’t have. Thoughts of being a queen, but this time with smiling Sage at my side, our beautiful children raised to pride and honor, but to love themselves and be free, first and foremost.
It’s a lovely dream. I only wish there was a chance in hell it could ever come true.
As for pulling over, I know it’s a foolish idea. I just can’t spare the time. We have to reach California as fast as we can. Because no matter Sage’s questions, his request to remain a werewolf if he’s healed, he is and will always be a revenant, a werewolf who has been made and not born. And though we might be able to convince the powers that be to keep him alive if a cure is found, there is no way I’ll be able to take him as my mate.
The dream dies, but I won’t wallow in the older version, where I’m a slave to the throne. I won’t. It may come, but not here. I won’t think about my future now. There’s too much road ahead of us, figurative and literal, for me to stray from my focus. Find a way to help him first. Then figure the rest out later. First things first.
Sage stirs beside me as the sign for San Antonio flashes in my headlights. He grins at me, lop sided, but for the first time I notice how red his face is. I’ve missed it in my distraction, so many details I’ve let slip. His paleness has gone, replaced by fever, his skin tight and shining red. And the scent of him has changed. I was so wrapped up in my thoughts I missed the shift completely.
He suddenly smells ill.
I reach out, touch his face, wince at how hot he feels. He’s burning up, the wolf in him super heating his insides as it battles the infection—which means, it’s either fighting itself, or he’s contracted some other bacteria or virus that’s interfering. When I glance at his shoulder, I see his T-shirt is soaked, the infection seeping through.
“Sage,” I say, accusation in my voice, though it’s not his fault. “Why didn’t you say something?”
He shakes his head, wobbly, smile child-like. “Charlie.” He slurs my name. “Hiya, Charlie.”
I take the next exit too fast, the tires squealing under the car, but I’m not thinking about my driving. I have to get him medicine, find a way to reduce his fever. Were he a full werewolf, I wouldn’t worry. His lupine nature would take care of things. Then again, were he a werewolf, he wouldn’t be this sick in the first place.
His wolf is rising, but it’s not enough. Yes, the sickness might yet burn off. The wolf is strong in him and, though he’s sick, I can’t sense the taint I’ve associated with revenants in the past. But it’s possible the infection he’s fighting—both of them—could trigger something else entirely. I have so little knowledge of what is actually happening to him, I can’t make a judgment either way. But the realization a trauma like this could trigger a shift in him decides for me.
I can’t allow the revenant to win before I can find a cure.
We’re in downtown San Antonio, surrounded by cars, stopped at a streetlight. I barely remember driving this far. I have to focus. My gaze sweeps both sides of the street, rewarded at last. I spot a little pharmacy on a c
orner and park across the street, ignoring the angry beeping of the cars trying to get around me. I should leave him here, but I can’t risk it. What if he were to change right here in traffic? I’d never get to him in time, before someone took a photo or video. And with today’s social media sites, he’d be all over the world before even the witch councils could stop it.
I spin on him, unbuckling his belt, leaning over to open his door. A firm shove gets him moving, wobbly but functional. I climb out after him, partly to avoid the traffic swerving around the car, and partly to keep him from falling down. Sage sways on the sidewalk, leaning to the left, still with that goofy grin on his face.
The traffic thins a moment, a woman giving me the finger before gunning past. I take advantage of the gap, dragging Sage across the street and to the glass door of the pharmacy. He wavers next to me, head down, barely registering the chime of the bell overhead as we enter with a soft whimper.
I keep him close to me as I hurry down the aisles, hands grabbing for pain killers. But what I really need are antibiotics, and I don’t have access. What will they do to his wolf physiology? I have no idea. But his human side needs them, that much is obvious. My gaze whips to the back of the store and the prescription counter. An older man stands there in a crisp white coat, balding head gray in a ring around his temples. He hasn’t noticed us, absorbed in whatever he’s working on, a pen in his hand. I know he won’t give me what I need, not without a prescription. He’s not allowed, it’s human law.
Which means I might have to hurt him to help Sage.
As I turn to tell my love to stay put, he pulls away from me, lunging forward, strength renewed as the fever rages. His eyes have gone wolf, hands grasping at random items. He sniffs them with aggressive interest, casting things aside almost as quickly as he seizes them. I can’t risk controlling him with magic, and am forced to chase him as he leaps forward and into the path of a young woman. She screams at the sight of him, her high heels slipping on the tile, short skirt hitching upward as she totters. I grab for her, pull her upright by her bare arm. She runs with clacking feet, hands scrambling over the keypad of her phone.
