Dangerously Driven

by Deborah Blake

  “We all miss being the Riders,” he said. “It was why our father, the god Jarilo, created us, after all. We are driven to help on some level that is probably wrapped like a primordial snake around our DNA. But we have found other ways to satisfy that drive, even if they might not be as glamorous as being the companions to the most powerful witches in the world. It is not the same, but then, nothing is. And we are well aware that nothing can be done to change this.” He stared pointedly at Jazz. “Nor would we wish to go back.”

  The queen tapped her lips thoughtfully. “But what if you could go forward?”

  Chapter 6

  “Forward?” Alexei thought he might need another beer or three before this conversation made any sense. He glanced at Gregori, but even the smartest of the brothers seemed to be as baffled as he was. “Of course we are going forward. That’s the only direction to go in.”

  “Shush, Alexei,” Barbara said. “Let the queen speak.”

  He shushed. Alexei had no desire to become a swan or a piece of statuary.

  The queen took another sip of beer and sat back a little on her almost-certainly-not-a-throne, which thoughtfully produced a pillow exactly where it was needed.

  “As you are no doubt aware, Bella and her apprentice Jazz have spent much of the last year in a quiet corner of the Otherworld, where Jazz could get the intensive training that her unusually strong powers clearly required.” A chilly amethyst glance swept over the pair before the queen went on. “But before they left to return to this side of the doorway, young Jazz approached me with a request.”

  Jazz, who had been hovering at the edge of the circle formed by the three Riders and the queen, cleared her throat. “More of a suggestion than a request, really,” she said. It could be unwise to ask or owe a favor in the Otherworld.

  The queen hid a small smile behind one pale hand. “Indeed. As you say. A suggestion.”

  Mikhail looked as baffled as Alexei felt, which made Alexei feel marginally better. “What was the suggestion, Your Majesty? Did it have something to do with us?”

  “It did indeed,” the queen said. “Perhaps the young lady would care to explain it to you herself.” She beckoned Jazz forward.

  “It wasn’t really a big deal,” Jazz said, her normally sallow cheeks flushing. “We went to see the queen and her consort before we came home. I might have mentioned that I would have felt better about setting out on my first solo job as a Baba Yaga if I knew I had the Riders to call on if things got rough, like all the Baba Yagas who came before me.”

  “We wish you had that too, little one,” Alexei said. He loved Bethany more than anything, and had no desire to leave her or the dogs or the bar. But still, there were days when the wind seemed to call his name and even his enchanted Harley felt restless underneath him. “But we are the Riders no more. The queen herself said so, when we lost our immortality. And all the wishes in the world can’t change that.”

  “Ah,” Jazz said, lifting one finger into the air. “But the queen can.”

  “What?” Mikhail said, the blood rushing from his face until he was almost as pale as the white shirts he used to wear. “What are you talking about, Jazz?”

  Jazz bit her lip. “I just pointed out to Her Majesty that while you might not be immortal anymore, you were still way stronger and smarter and” (here she looked directly at Mikhail) “more charming than regular Humans. Plus you all have your new abilities, which might be kind of handy when dealing with paranormal issues. And I suggested that just because you had created satisfying lives didn’t mean you might not want to help out occasionally, if one of us really needed it. Or, you know, if you were like, bored or something.”

  Alexei, who had an extremely low boredom threshold, perked up immediately. “You mean you asked if we could go back to being the Riders, only part-time?”

  All three heads—blond, brown, and black—swiveled toward the queen.

  “Your Majesty?” Gregori asked, looking as though he was thinking furiously. Or holding his breath. Or both. “It that even possible?”

  The queen pursed her lips. “Almost anything is possible, should one decide to make it so. Not everything, but almost.” She drained her goblet and handed it back to Barbara. “Therefore, We decided to entertain her proposal.”

  “And?” Alexei asked, practically dancing from one foot to the other in his eagerness to hear the answer. Gregori’s stillness had taken on a nearly preternatural quality, and Mikhail had put his hands behind his back and was clasping them together so hard, Alexei thought he heard a knuckle pop.

  The queen raised an eyebrow, as if to tell him to curb his eagerness. “And We decided that We were prepared to consider the idea. But only after putting each of you to a test, as is traditional, to see if you were truly able to move past the traumas you had been through. Additionally, We wished to determine if you were capable of using your new gifts in ways that would be useful to the roles you had once fulfilled, and willing to risk your personal safety even if you were no longer immortal.”

  Tests. The word rang through Alexei’s brain. Sonofabitch. Freaking traditional fairy tale tests. That explained a lot.

  “The pregnant woman whose child was lost in a cave!” Mikhail exclaimed, at the exact same time Gregori said, “The boy on the bridge who jumped!” and Alexei said, a little indignantly, “That crabby guy stuck under the tree!”

  Bella and Beka laughed, Jazz giggled, and even the normally stern Barbara cracked a smile. Little Babs looked as solemn as usual, but there might have been a twinkle in her bright brown eyes. Only Sam looked confused, and Alexei had a sneaking suspicion that all the women in the clearing had been in on this, whatever this was.

  The queen inclined her head gracefully, the gemstones bound within her braids reflecting the last of the setting sun’s rays and giving her the illusion of a halo Alexei was beginning to think she didn’t deserve. “Indeed, those encounters were arranged by Us, to test your will, determination, ingenuity, and heart.”

  “You put all those people at risk simply to test us?” Gregori said in a low, dangerous tone. Barbara reached out and put a calming hand on his arm.

  “Not at all,” the queen said. “You know We try to avoid interactions with Humans as much as is possible. Besides, it was unnecessary. All those who you met upon your travels were My people, who I glamoured to appear Human and vulnerable.

  “But they were never in any danger. The ‘small child’ you rescued was actually a gnome who was perfectly comfortable underground. Gregori’s suicidal teen was a nixie; as a water creature, he would not have drowned even if Gregori had not jumped in after him. As for Alexei’s grumpy woodcutter, that was a tough dryad who could have lain under that tree all day and half the night and never been harmed. Although doing so would likely not have improved his disposition.”

  “No wonder the bear said he smelled funny,” Alexei muttered under his breath.

  The queen gave the tiniest hint of a smile. “Not that We ever truly doubted you would come to their rescue, even so.

  “Do not be displeased with My creatures, who were merely doing as they had been bid. Nor with Us, since it was necessary to be certain if you were still Riders at heart, despite all that had occurred.”

  Mikhail let out a gusty sigh, then shook himself, as if letting go of some shadow that had been clinging to him like beads of water to the surface of a leaf. “You are wise as always, Your Majesty,” he said with a bow. “To be honest, before your test, I would not have been so sure of my willingness to help another damsel in distress, or if I had the courage to deliberately enter a dark cave. Nor had I ever attempted to call up my beast on purpose, to utilize the abilities he has that I do not. No matter what happens, I am grateful.”

  “As am I,” Gregori said, looking thoughtful.

  Alexei shrugged and rolled his eyes. As far as he was concerned, it was all a big fuss over nothing. What really mattered was whether or not the queen thought her experiment was a success. He could almost feel the
road under his wheels again, close enough to their impossible dream that he could taste it.

  “Did we pass?” he demanded. “Are you going to do what Jazz asked and make us Riders again?”

  The three men each took an unconscious step closer to each other, as if they could gather strength from the others as they waited for the answer to Alexei’s question. For a moment, the clearing was so silent, even the sound of their own breathing seemed too loud. An owl hooted in a nearby tree and made Alexei jump.

  “Most definitely,” the queen said with an affectionate smile. “You all passed the tests We set you. From the reports We received, you were quite remarkable. Not that this comes as any surprise. If you so desire, and if your mates are agreeable, you may once again be called The Riders—White, Red, and Black—and assist the Baba Yagas when there is a need and you can be spared from your regular lives.”

  Everyone in the clearing cheered: the three established Baba Yagas, their various Chudo-Yudos, Sam, and even Babs, who was not given to displays of exuberance. But Jazz cheered the loudest of all, jumping up and down and waving one arm through the air while making “whoop whoop whoop” noises. It reminded Alexei of a silly romantic movie Beka had once made him watch. Only a firm glance from Bella finally brought the newest Baba Yaga back down to earth.

  The three brothers bowed at once, first at the queen, then in the direction of each of the Baba Yagas.

  “We would be honored,” Gregori said in a formal tone, speaking for them all. “Our lives may now be measured in decades rather than centuries, but we would be grateful to spend some of those days being of service to Your Majesty and those who do her work on this side of the doorway.”

  The queen looked unaccustomedly misty-eyed as she gazed around at them all. “It is We who are honored to accept that service,” she said. “You were broken for a time by your terrible experiences at the hands of That Person, whose name We no longer speak, and by the losses that followed. But you all triumphed in the end, building new lives and finding true love, and you are broken no longer. Once you were Riders by design and destiny; now you are Riders by choice. We are most pleased.”

  She arose from her chair and moved to each man in turn, giving him a kiss on the forehead. Alexei could feel the magic tingling through his bones as her cool lips touched his skin.

  “Good journeying to you all,” she said as she moved toward the door of the Airstream. “And may your travels bring you to visit Us at court soon.”

  The clearing seemed somehow smaller and quieter after she left, although fireflies appeared in the twilight air around them, feasting on the traces of leftover magic.

  “Well, that went better than I’d hoped,” Barbara said in her usual brisk voice, although she pulled out a handkerchief and blew her nose into it, which rather ruined the illusion. “Nicely done, all three of you.”

  Alexei shook his head. “I don’t think we deserve any of the credit,” he said. “But I know who does.” He strolled over to Jazz where she stood beaming next to Bella, and gave her a huge hug that nearly cracked her spine. “Thank you, Jazz. You might not have been able to give us back our immortality, but in a way, this is even better.”

  “It is all we truly wanted,” Gregori said, following him over and giving Jazz a bow so low, his head nearly touched the ground. “You did well. None of the rest of us even considered the possibility of such a compromise, yet you were smart enough and bold enough to suggest it to the queen.”

  Mikhail hugged her too, and then kissed the top of her head. “I think you’re going to make one hell of a Baba Yaga.”

  Jazz sniffled and wiped her eyes. “You’re just saying that because you get to be the Riders again.”

  “They’re saying it because it is true,” Bella said, putting one arm around her protégé. “You may give me gray hairs with the way you think outside the box and refuse to give up in the face of reasonable facts, but maybe that kind of attitude is just what the Baba Yagas need.”

  “What the world needs,” Beka said, grinning. “You’re going to kick ass and take names.”

  “Hey, that’s my job,” Barbara said. “Although I guess there are enough asses in need of kicking to go around.”

  Alexei grabbed his beer from where he’d put it down when the queen had showed up so unexpectedly. “I’d like to propose a toast,” he said, raising his drink high in the air. “To new adventures!”

  “To new adventures!” everyone echoed him, raising their drinks too (even Babs with her glass of milk).

  As Alexei took a long swallow, he noticed something that no one else did, perhaps because he was standing the closest to Gregori.

  The oldest Rider was staring at Barbara with an odd expression on his normally serene face, as if he were seeing something not visible to the rest. “Oh dear,” Gregori said quietly. “New adventures. Uh oh.”

  OTHER FICTION BY DEBORAH BLAKE

  Novels

  WICKEDLY DANGEROUS

  WICKEDLY WONDERFUL

  WICKEDLY POWERFUL

  DANGEROUSLY CHARMING

  DANGEROUSLY DIVINE

  DANGEROUSLY FIERCE

  VEILED MAGIC

  VEILED MENACE

  VEILED ENCHANTMENTS

  REINVENTING RUBY

  Novellas

  WICKEDLY MAGICAL

  WICKEDLY EVER AFTER

  WICKEDLY SPIRITED

  About the Author

  Deborah Blake is the award-winning author of the Baba Yaga and Broken Rider paranormal romance series and the Veiled Magic urban fantasies from Berkley.

  Deborah has also written The Goddess is in the Details, Everyday Witchcraft and numerous other books from Llewellyn, along with a popular tarot deck. She has published articles in Llewellyn annuals, and her ongoing column, “Everyday Witchcraft” is featured in Witches & Pagans Magazine. Deborah can be found online at Facebook, Twitter, her popular blog (Writing the Witchy Way), and www.deborahblakeauthor.com

  When not writing, Deborah runs The Artisans’ Guild, a cooperative shop she founded with a friend in 1999, and also works as a jewelry maker, tarot reader, and energy healer. She lives in a 130 year old farmhouse in rural upstate New York with various cats who supervise all her activities, both magickal and mundane.