“How long is it to find these Outsiders?” Clara asked as Bowen opened his palm and reignited the guiding flame.
“Miranda said to go east toward the sea. That they would find us.”
“Oh, great. So we could be set upon by a ruthless band of outlaws at any time? Marvelous.”
A horrendous crash erupted behind them. Followed by an inhuman roar that split the air.
Clara covered her ears as Bowen swung around, opening his other hand for light. In the distance behind them, neon purple flames exploded up from the trees and set them cracking and splitting.
Wild animals she’d only heard in the past, but never seen, skittered toward them. Grey and white blobs with long ears and pointed noses; horse sized deer-like creatures with horns sharper than razor blades crashed through the shrubs and trees, grazing the trunks and leaving gashes and chunks torn out.
“What is that?” Clara demanded of Bowen as he grabbed her hand and started running.
“Wargari fire demon. They’re usually hibernating this time of the cycle. Guess someone woke one up.”
“You mean like a dragon?” Fire demon? Was he freaking kidding?
Clara’s dress kept catching in the thickets and vines as she raced beside him. Around them, the darkness receded as the forest was set alight in purple and blue flames. She tried not to look behind her, but couldn’t help it.
Her hand slipped from Bowen’s and she faltered to a stop, frozen, transfixed by the sight crashing toward her. Trees were swept aside as a path opened up, closer, closer....
Odd. She moved closer to the fire. The forest was burning and yet...not.
“Clara!” Bowen grabbed hold of her, but she couldn’t move. Couldn’t blink. She wanted to do as he ordered, but there was something inside of her being drawn back...to the flames.
Back to the beast.
She heard Bowen cursing—at least she thought they were curses—and then he began rustling through the debris on the ground near her as if digging a hole. Shouts exploded from the direction they’d been headed. The forest began filling with thick smoke that whipped into small funnel clouds and spun around them. The trees and leaves and shrubs and branches caught on fire and yet...nothing seemed to be burning. Flames danced over the surface of everything around them yet nothing turned to ash. She felt no heat. Felt nothing other than warm air spinning around her.
“Clara!” Bowen stepped in front of her, blocking her view as he stared down at her, gripped her arms so tight she knew she’d have bruises. “Clara!”
The heat suddenly exploded around her and she coughed. Smoke sailed into her lungs. She looked around, her eyes watering against the flames and she realized she’d waited too long. Fire encroached from every side, every angle. They were trapped.
Bowen ripped off her cloak and pushed her onto the ground, face down. He dropped down on top of her, whispered a few words she didn’t recognize, then covered them both with the cloak. Nose pressed into the ground, she could barely breathe. All she could smell was fetid soil. Tiny rocks dug into her skin as the fire disappeared beneath the darkness of the cloak. Bowen’s weight pushed her deeper into the soil as the world raged around them. Wind and funnels of fire and heat spun and tried to catch them, but Bowen gripped the ground on either side of her and held on, as if he could tether himself to the earth.
Ground water began seeping up under her, soaking her from the bottom up as the dirt turned to mud in her mouth. Was that what Bowen had been digging for? She gagged, choking and wondered if the fire was a better way to die than drowning in mud.
Thunder boomed through the forest. No, not thunder. Footsteps. The dragon creature was coming closer, its screams slicing through her, threatening to rip her skull in two. She screamed, wanting to clasp her head in her hands, but she couldn’t move, not with Bowen holding her firm.
The world went silent.
No sound from the fire. No roars. No scream. No...pain.
“I’ve got you,” Bowen whispered in her ear as he brushed a hand over the back of her head. “I’ve got—ugh!” Bowen collapsed on top of her, his head falling heavily into the crook of her shoulder.
Clara gasped, tried to move, to look over her shoulder as the silent world continued to spin.
The cloak was ripped off them. Clara blinked up at a hooded figure who possessed eyes as purple as the fire. He couched down in front of her as the fire raged around them. The man paid it no notice. Not as he gripped her chin in his hand and forced her face up.
She cried out, wanting to get help for Bowen, not able to talk because of the smoke coating her throat.
The man ripped off his hood, exposed the same brilliant yellow hair she recognized from Dracha’s soldiers. He gripped the back of Bowen’s hair and hauled his head up, took one look at Bowen’s face and yelled something.
Clara didn’t know what. Sound was returning to her ears, but she felt as if she were under water. Bowen’s weight was pulled off her and she could breathe again, but not much better as the heat from the fire continued to glow around them.
The hooded figure’s hands came at her and she tried to push up, to scramble away, kicking and moving while searching frantically for where they’d taken Bowen. In the distance, she saw the fire-creature lurch away from them and back into the darkness.
“Enough!” The hooded man shouted loud enough to break through her deafness. She’d be damned if she’d do what he said. Bowen needed her. She had to find a way to fight. Maybe this magic she possessed....
She gripped her hands into the ground, felt the dirt squish between her fingers as something built inside of her. Power coursed through her, up through her toes, into her torso, down her arms and she wrenched her hands up in front of her, aiming at their attackers.
When she screamed, the power released in a bolt wide enough to catch all his men off guard and send them soaring through the air.
The same way Bowen had done days ago.
She was on her feet in seconds. About the same time it took the hooded figure to do the same. He came closer, stalking her as she backed away and felt the flames at her back. The man or the fire.
She looked behind her.
Then back at him.
And found him right in front of her.
“I said, enough.” He tapped a finger on her forehead.
Clara fell into darkness.
* * *
“Is it possible to have a migraine and a hangover at one time?” Clara groaned as she rolled over onto....
She yelped and sat up, scrambling back in panic before she realized she’d been unconscious beside Bowen.
“The next time I tell you to run, you run.” He turned his head toward her and held out his hand. “Come here.”
She collapsed into his arms, relief and uncertainty coursing through her as she breathed in the scent of him intermingled with sulfur and ash. She shivered. “I swear I’ll never barbeque again. Where are we?” She croaked. She could barely talk. Her throat hurt. Her chest ached and she smelled like...she cringed. She didn’t want to think what she smelled like.
She lifted her hand, flexed her fingers and marveled at the blue sparks flying out of her fingertips. Bowen gripped her hand, folded her fingers between his and the fear swirling inside of her settled.
“How do you like your magic?” Bowen pressed his lips to her forehead.
“I don’t. You can have it. Bowen, where are—”
The heavy wooden door burst open and the man who had tapped her unconscious stood in the doorway.
“You’ve been summoned.”
“Of course we have.” Clara sighed and sat up as Bowen pushed himself to his feet. “If it’s by some little creep named Goffrey—”
“Clara, not now.” Bowen guided her in front of him into the stone hallway. Torches lighted their way as they followed their escort down hallways and curving staircases.
She stopped to peer out of an arched window, but she found the same darkness that had been in place since her arrival i
n this realm. Her dress was ripped beyond repair and her hair had lost any cohesion of the braid.
“Is this the keep?” She whispered to Bowen who took her hand when she reached for his. “Is this Dracha—”
“You will wait in here.” Their captor, still wearing the same black uniform he’d worn in the forest, pushed open double wooden doors that opened to a wide, welcoming hall. “You will not leave.”
“No problem,” Clara said when Bowen looked as if he might pounce. “We have a lot to talk about while we wait.” She grabbed Bowen’s arm and dragged him inside. They both stopped short when they saw the table filled with plates of food and jugs of drink. “But we can always eat first. I don’t even know what half this stuff is and I don’t care.” She went for the pastries first, if only because they didn’t smell like meat.
Bowen walked over to one of the large open windows and it was then Clara realized the odd sound she was hearing was the sea. Waves crashed upon rocks in the distance and brought her an odd sense of calm.
“So I’ve been thinking.” She wiped her mouth and picked up a pastry for Bowen. She joined him at the window and held it in front of his lips. “Given how close we both just came to dying, I think I might have overreacted earlier today. This handfasting thing you mentioned? I think I might be up for it after all.” It hadn’t taken her more than a few seconds of suffocating in that fire to realize she didn’t want to die without having given this marriage thing—at least with Bowen—a shot. Especially if it would put his mind at ease.
Bowen looked down at her, awed confusion shining on his face as he smiled. “There really is no one else in this world like you, Clara MacQueen.” He pressed his lips against hers. “Let’s see if we’re still alive in the morn and we’ll discuss it then.”
She grinned. “Sounds like a plan. Any idea where we are? Or who summoned us?”
“You’re the only place Dracha won’t look for you.” A loud voice boomed from the other side of the room.
Clara and Bowen spun around as a tall figure appeared out of the shadows. He was tall, as tall as Bowen, but with lighter, shorter hair. Fit. Toned, with an angular face and a jaw as firm and tight as granite. The cane he carried was topped with a shimmering circle of gold displaying an intricate Celtic knot, glowing in the same way Miranda’s amulet had.
But it was his eyes that left Clara gasping.
Eyes as pure as the first snow of winter.
“It’s not possible,” Bowen whispered as he drew Clara harder into his side. “I saw you die.”
“Nah! You saw me get those swimming lessons you always threatened me with.” The man walked forward, his footfalls echoing in the stone hall. “It took me a while to recover. It’s good to see you again, brother. So to speak.” The grin that spread across the man’s face seemed genuine.
Clara stared between the two men. “Bowen? Who—”
“Keane.” Bowen dropped a hand on the other man’s shoulders and, after a moment, released Clara so he could embrace his friend. “Goddess above, it is you.” He slapped him hard on the back. “What happened? You have to tell me everything.”
“Let’s sit and eat while we discuss all that,” Keane said. “And you must be Clara. Miranda sent word Bowen would be bringing along a very special companion.” He didn’t act as if he were blind, finding her hand effortlessly and lifting it to his lips. That same grin danced across his lips and teased hers into a smile. “It’s a pleasure.”
“Some things never change.” Bowen tugged his friend away none too gently just as the ground beneath them shook. “What—”
Bowen and Keane stumbled as Clara stared out the window across the room. A streak of light shot across the sky as a boom broke across the darkness. She gripped the frame, staring out into the distance as her heart pounded in her chest.
Bowen came up behind her, his hands coming to rest on her shoulders as she trembled.
“Any idea what that was?” Keane asked.
Clara nodded and swallowed hard, blinking happy, terrified tears from her eyes. “I think one of my sisters just arrived.”
...to be continued in Issue 8
Copyright © 2018 by Anna J. Stewart.
EDITOR’S CLOSING
by Lezli Robyn
As we close out our first issue as co-editors, Tina Smith and I would love to send our thanks first and foremost to Denise Little, who started this magazine and without whom we would not have this remarkable market to offer writers and readers delicious bite-sized selections of romance.
Tina and I also hope you fell in love with our authors and their stories as much as we did, because we are delighted to tell you that we will be welcoming them back for future issues. Next month we will have the second part in Anna J. Stewart’s paranormal serialization coming your way, more smart and sexy contemporaries from L. Penelope and Petronella Glover, a return from our regular columnist Julie Pitzel, and more. We also have not one but two interviews in issue eight! One with the powerhouse Marie Force and another with the amazing Jamie Beck. And we’re delighted to announce we will be showcasing fiction from international bestselling authors, Brenda Novak and Juliet Marillier!
We look forward to having you between the sheets and under the covers with us again as we embark on a bright future for short romance fiction. We literally, could not have put this all together without you, our readers, and we look forward to delighting and scintillating you for many more issues to come.
LEZLI ROBYN
TINA SMITH
Issue 7, Febraury 2018: Featuring Jayne Ann Krentz: Heart's Kiss, #7 Page 22
