by Jami Gray
Gavin lay next to her, saying nothing. One comforting hand wrapped around her ankle, giving her a physical anchor as she regained control.
The last moments of Jeremiah’s life would haunt her for a good long time. Why was it hitting her so hard? She wasn’t a stranger to pain. She had been a Wraith way too long for death to frighten her. So what about this situation was different?
She understood Jeremiah’s revulsion at the thought of being under someone else’s control for eternity. Hell, she faced things much more frightening than ephemeral mists bent on revenge, or a macabre collection of nightmares who wanted to shred her to pieces. So that wasn’t it. Even the sadness and rage the tracker felt when he recognized the ghostly faces couldn’t compare to some of her constant mental companions. What was different?
Needing to understand, she focused on Jeremiah’s final few minutes. Peeling back his emotions and fears, she set aside the terrifying images of the chindis and replayed his last thoughts. There was his fierce independence, his loyalty to his pack, and his devotion to his alpha. Under it all, lay his need to take out as much of the threat facing him as possible. Then she found it, barely acknowledged, but there.
The ghosts managed to uncover the bond between Jeremiah and his wolf. The binding resembled a Gordian knot of light. Which made sense, considering how intertwined the wolf and man were. When the first of the ghosts reached that light, Jeremiah and his wolf felt the first tear in their binding. Gut clenching fear fueled their determination. They were so deeply connected that one would not exist without the other. Therefore, they would ensure nothing would separate them.
She couldn’t follow the spell they wove or how it worked, but she understood the results. The shifter made sure no trace of either him or his wolf would remain behind for the ghosts to feast upon. Nothing for the chindis to use against his pack, because such a breach would leave his pack vulnerable. Being a soldier, Jeremiah’s need to protect was an overriding force. He cauterized his ties, killing both himself and his wolf, but leaving his pack and alpha safe.
Just she did when she realized she might not make it back to Gavin.
The realization struck with crystal clarity. The damage to her magic wasn’t the result of the Soul Stealer and its minions, but an act of self-defense on her part. The threat of losing Gavin, the fear of living without him, was more frightening than facing her own death. The last time she stared into this abyss, she was fifteen, and the human scientists were discussing how her mother died on their table. Back then, she fell head first into the pit. Now, she stood on the crumbling edge.
A tug on her ankle jerked her back from her dark thoughts and the morass of old nightmares. “You okay?”
Loosening her hold on her knees, she focused on Gavin lying next to her. “I will be.” She paused. “I think I owe you an apology.”
One dark eyebrow quirked. “Should I ask why?”
The darkness made it easier to confess her sins. “I think the damage to our thread was more my fault than the Soul Stealer’s.”
His fingers gently stroked over the top of her foot, making her toes twitch. “How do you figure?”
“When I realized what Jeremiah was going to do, I didn’t want it to touch you.”
The stroking movements stopped. “So you broke the strands?”
“I don’t know.” She shrugged uncomfortably. “Maybe.”
“I can’t ask you not to protect me, because I know you won’t listen.” He was silent for a moment. “Next time, try to have a little faith. I’m not in any hurry to lose you either.”
She smiled to herself, understanding what he didn’t say, and luxuriated in the intimate quiet. She took a chance and snuck a peek at their bond. Tension drained from her shoulders. The magic was healing, just as he had promised. Probing, she found her cat curled in a sleepy ball deep inside. She resettled next to Gavin.
A long while later, he finally broke the quiet. “You ready to check on Cheveyo?”
Instead of rushing to answer, she thought it over. The aches and pains from earlier were twinges now, a good indicator his healing session was doing its job. Her magic might not be up to full strength, but it was stronger. Considering it was the dead of morning, Cheveyo’s captors may not be all that alert, leaving surprise on their side. “Not sure what it’ll accomplish, but we can try.” A thought hit her. “Shouldn’t we wait for Tala?”
“No. Told her we’d do it on our own schedule.”
She twisted around to look at him. “And she agreed?”
He shrugged. “Didn’t give her much choice.”
“You’re playing a dangerous game. She’s still the head magi here. They don’t just hand out those jobs, you know.”
“I’m aware of that,” he muttered, “but it’s never stopped you.” His answer left her speechless, and he took advantage of the unintentional opening. “Let’s get started. Maybe we’ll get lucky and get some sleep tonight.”
She felt her lips twitch at his snippy tone. “You have an urgent appointment I don’t know about?”
His chest vibrated against her back with his low chuckle. “Funny girl.” He settled back on the bed, drawing her with him, his humor fading. “Maybe your paranoia is contagious, but I’m concerned about this tie you have with Cheveyo.”
She frowned, toying with the hairs dusting his arm at her waist. “I explained about the door between us. You’ve seen it.”
She could almost hear the whirring as his thoughts churned. The subtle tension in his body hinted he was debating sharing those thoughts with her. Needing to see his face, she turned and her legs tangled with his. Folding her arms on his chest, she rested her chin on her hands and stared him down.
Sighing, he gave in. “Remember our conversation about the evolution of magic?” He played with a strand of her hair, letting the dark ribbon slide through his fingers. She was amused to notice how much attention he paid that small movement. He seemed reluctant to look at her, as he continued. “I’m starting to wonder how altruistic Cheveyo really was to bind you together all those months ago.”
For a moment, she wondered if he was jealous. Then the obviousness of his observation hit, sending her mentally reeling. It was so logical. Why hadn’t she thought of it?
Thinking back to when Cheveyo revealed how he tied them together, she searched for some clue but couldn’t find it. When she questioned the witch after his little bomb, he seemed as perplexed as she at his actions. If anything, he seemed uncomfortable, not as if he was plotting to use her.
The small hitch in Gavin’s breathing let her know he was snared in her rush of memories. More proof that their bond was growing stronger. Neither one had put up any barriers, so there were times, like now, when they unconsciously merged. A small worm of worry poked its head up. Would she be able to maintain her sense of self if this continued to grow? She took comfort in the fact she was stubborn enough to make sure her hard earned independence survived.
She watched Gavin carefully. “You saw?”
He nodded.
“If you can see my memories, did you catch anything?” Here’s hoping he hadn’t caught her latest vow.
He stared into space, thinking as she waited. After a few moments, he spoke, weighing each word carefully. “If we trust your impressions, I’d say Cheveyo had no ulterior motives.” He met her gaze. “However, I’d rather be safe than sorry.”
A wry smile twisted her lips. “Guess you and I are going to go up against the top dogs of the Kyn, huh?”
“Not unless they come after us first.”
At his dry tone, she raised her eyebrows. He met her gaze without flinching. That unbreakable confidence turned her on.
Focus! “Right, let’s do this then.” She turned and settled in, dropping behind her shields.
His arm came around her waist and held her close. This newfound need for his touch was disconcerting, but she didn’t let go of his anchoring arm. Scanning the magical tapestry, she found Cheveyo’s psychic trail. Concentrating, she
reached out, only to stop short. She felt for Gavin behind her. “Ready?”
“Ready.”
Taking a deep breath, she grabbed hold. This time, instead of the magic dragging her under, she was able to ride above it. With Gavin shadowing her, she surfed along the lines of light.
The trip to the psychic door was quick and thankfully uneventful. Standing before it, she could make out Cheveyo’s earth tones sluggishly snaking their way under the door. Kneeling, she gathered the delicate ties in her hands and sent a small pulse of power down the bond. Not enough to alert whoever held him, but enough to make Cheveyo pay attention.
Studying the ribbons of energy, worry gnawed at her. Based on how thin and stretched it appeared, Tala’s assumption that Cheveyo was still somewhere near Flagstaff might be wrong. With Raine and Gavin heading to Phoenix tomorrow, she feared the added distance could snap their connection. A brief pulse in the earth tones cut her thoughts short. Cheveyo’s answering flare dissolved some of her tension. He was still hanging on.
Knowing time was running short, she slipped further into the magic, only to run into a psychic wall. Undeterred, she pushed, adding her magical weight. The answering shove sent her reeling back. She tried again, only to snarl at the resulting slap. Damn stubborn witch! Cheveyo wouldn’t let her in.
She studied the door and considered her options. She could force it open, but didn’t dare. No way in hell did she want the Soul Stealer to tear through her shields again. Besides, between her, Gavin, and Cheveyo, mental space was becoming a premium. A low, sleepy growl rumbled, and she added one more to the psychic party, her leopard.
Resigned to taking the difficult road, she began to feed the combination of her and Gavin’s power down the link. Gods only knew what Cheveyo was facing, but until they had more information, the possibilities were endless and daunting. Since he refused to open the door, she was left with only one option—send enough power to help him endure.
Worry coalesced with dark memories, but unwilling to trigger alarms on the other side, she concentrated on keeping her touch light. Letting her sense of self fade away, her world narrowed to strengthening the ties.
The brief brush of Gavin’s mind had her opening eyes she hadn’t realized she’d shut. Her knees ached as she knelt by the steel door. Cheveyo’s thread lay in her lap, her hands petting it gently. She was relieved to find the bond appeared thicker than before. Here’s hoping it would hold. She let it go and rose to her feet, her head spinning at the sudden position change. Either she used too much power, or something was interfering with her connection to the captive witch.
She followed Gavin’s psychic trail, stumbling a bit. A nudge at her hip announced her leopard’s arrival. She glanced down to find it padding alongside. Taking the offer, she buried her hand in the ruff behind its ears and found her balance.
Chapter Twenty-One
Raine hung back while Gavin dealt with the pencil thin brunette manning the desk at Ransom Developments in Phoenix. Most females tripped over themselves to give him whatever he wanted and then some. This time was proving to be no exception, for the most part.
Gavin leaned against the high counter with a lone, elegant orchid standing guard over the discreet nameplate reading, “Carrie Hernandez”. “We have an eleven o’clock appointment with Mr. Ransom.”
Although Carrie managed to pull off the sophisticated receptionist role upon their arrival, it wasn’t long before she fell under Gavin’s charm. “I’m sorry, Mr. Durand.” A blush rode high under her skin. “Unfortunately, Mr. Ransom had to cancel all his afternoon appointments.”
Carrie’s poker face was horrible, but Raine managed to keep her disbelieving snort silent.
“Ms. Hernandez?” Gavin’s voice dropped, “Carrie? We drove down from Flagstaff. We’re only in town for the day. I’m sure Mr. Ransom could squeeze us in.”
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Durand,” the flustered woman answered. “I did leave a message on your cell.”
“My reception must be spotty, because I never got that message.”
Neither Raine nor Gavin intended to leave until they got a chance to speak with Ransom. A nervous receptionist wouldn’t be much of a challenge.
“Why don’t you just slip back to his office and double check for me?” Gavin cajoled. “We’ll be just a few minutes and I know Mr. Ransom was looking forward to our meeting.”
Carrie gave him a jerky nod, flicked a wary glance at Raine, and walked quickly into the hall behind her desk.
Gavin gave Raine a very smug, male look. Damn man knew his effect on females. Hell, he exploited it shamelessly. Laughter bubbled inside her, but she kept her expression neutral. It wasn’t safe to encourage him.
Carrie returned her blush higher and more pronounced, wearing a look Raine recognized. Someone had been royally chewed out. At least it answered one question, Ransom was in.
Carrie stepped up to the desk, her jaw set. “I’m sorry, Mr. Durand, but Mr. Ransom is not available for any appointments at this time.”
Charm disappeared and Gavin stared her down. She paled.
Pity rose, and Raine decided it was time to intervene. She tapped Gavin on the arm.
He switched his stare from the secretary to her, but moved aside.
Ignoring his glare, Raine leaned over the counter and flashed a smile that was all teeth. “I don’t think you understand, Carrie.” A small curl of dark glee unfurled as a tremor visibly raced over Carrie’s arm as she gripped the back of her chair. “We did not just drive three hours to be blown off by Mr. Ransom. So if you’ll excuse us, we’ll let Mr. Ransom know how hard you tried to keep us away.” Without waiting for her response, she stalked into the hall, Gavin close behind.
By the time the receptionist regained her composure and managed to teeter after them, Raine pinpointed Ransom’s corner office. Not all that hard considering his name was etched on the half-open, blind-covered, side window. Without bothering to knock, she stepped into the office.
To her right, tinted windows lined the wall, letting winter sunlight filter in. Fluorescent lights chased the dim shadows back and an icy blast of air cut through her sweater. Raine’s magical shields snapped into place as the blurry, unnatural shadows swam at the edge of her vision, surrounding the man who rose to his feet at her rude entrance. She slid a wrist blade into her hand as the hair at the nape of her neck rose at the unseen threat.
Gavin closed the door firmly on the chasing secretary before moving to Raine’s right. His shields locked into place with a faint reverberating psychic echo.
Holding her blade along her wrist, she set her body at an angle. “Doug Ransom. I believe we had an appointment.”
Training became her only tether as those flickering shadows taunted her. She didn’t dare drop her shields to take a closer look. Unfortunately, she was fairly certain of what they faced. Despite their respective shields, she shared her hunch with Gavin, and received a small answering vibration in return.
Standing behind the large desk, Doug Ransom wavered between anger and fear. Sweat dotted his forehead, the damp sheen darkening the graying edges of his thinning hair. He had to be in his forties, but with his skin currently taking on an unhealthy pallor and his eyes ringed by dark circles, she put his age closer to fifty.
He sported some excess weight around his middle at some point, but now his suit hung on him. She bet that the not-quite-there shadows milling behind him were a great dietary tool.
“Ms. McCord, Mr. Durand.” Ransom remained standing, his hands braced on his desk. “This is really not a good time.”
Gavin shifted, coming forward. “We only need a few minutes.”
Ransom’s gaze flicked beyond Gavin and he waved his hand, probably sending Carrie away. He settled back into his chair with a dark frown of displeasure. He motioned to the two cushioned chairs arranged in front of his desk. “Take a seat.”
Gavin removed his jacket and laid it over the arm of the chair before making himself comfortable.
Raine he
sitated. The quivering shadows began to quiet, but instead of expected relief, she felt edgy. Moving cautiously to the front of the chair, she sat. Using the edge of Ransom’s desk for cover, she slipped her wrist blade back into its sheath. Her shoulders were tight, but until they were out of this office, all she could do was wait, and watch.
“We have a couple of questions for you,” Gavin said.
“About?” The CEO set his elbows on the desk and folded his hands.
The unnatural shadows shifted. Raine sucked in a breath, waiting.
Gavin kept his focus on the man behind the desk. “Your role in a situation up north.”
The shadows darkened and began to twine about Ransom. A swell of malicious intent washed over Raine, causing her to gasp. The small sound was drowned out by Ransom’s quickly smothered moan of pain. Wiping a shaking hand over his face, his eyes were a tad wild. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“We were given your name by the Chavezes.” Raine watched him closely. “We were told you were interested in purchasing land up near Flagstaff.”
The phantom shadows paused and held still, as if listening.
“Is that a question?” Ransom grabbed the handkerchief from his suit pocket to dab at the sheen of sweat on his forehead.
“Is it true?” she pushed, splitting her attention between him and the unmoving mist.
“Currently, yes.” His pudgy hands shook slightly as he meticulously folded the handkerchief into a neat square. “Ransom Developments is considering purchasing some land near Flagstaff.”
“Why that land?” asked Gavin.
“Why would a Security Agent from Taliesin Security in Oregon be interested in a land deal in Arizona?” Ransom shot back, eyes narrowed.
“We aren’t,” she cut in. “We’re following leads in a disappearance.”
The phantom shadows eddied then quieted again.
