by Jess Haines
“Give me the rest of today and tomorrow. Then we can do your little school project when you return to class on Monday.”
He leaned in, extending one hand in offering for her to seal the deal. She stared at it like it might bite, panic rising.
She had no idea what it meant to agree to his offer, and was frightened half to death of the potential consequences. Familiars could not control what power was ripped from them by their masters. If Viper intended to use her for that, she could spend days knocked out from exhaustion. She’d also heard the stories of what happened when an incorrectly summoned planar being managed to turn the tables on their summoner. The mage was often burned from the inside out once they were bound as the planar being took revenge by filtering too much energy for them to handle. Some magi had even lost their spark entirely, too fried by the influx of raw elemental energy to control or cast anymore.
It was nightmare fuel for a mage, and for good reason.
Seeing her hesitation, Viper let his hand drop, his eyes narrowing. “You feel my offer is inadequate?”
“No, it’s not that. It’s just I… I didn’t think…”
“Didn’t think you’d have to return the favor,” he said, unamused.
She bit her lip.
“I wouldn’t hurt you, if that’s what has you worried. I’m quite skilled at finding the threshold of my partner and modulating the energy tap. It can be… quite pleasant.”
Judging by the heated way he was looking at her, he didn’t mean for him. Flushing all the way to her toes, she averted her gaze and held up a staying hand.
“This is a bit much for me. Cormac warned me you’d want something like this. I feel a little stupid saying this, but I didn’t believe him, and I just wasn’t prepared to make this kind of snap decision. Can I have a minute to think about it?”
Viper made a soft hissing sound of irritation between his teeth, pulling back from her. “Cormac has no vision. I know what I want and I’m prepared to offer anything to get it. You have but to ask.”
Well. There was one thing. Her cheeks flared crimson and she squirmed a bit before stuttering out another question, swallowing back her embarrassment.
“You keep a hoard like a dragon, right? I don’t suppose you would consider loaning me a little? I swear I’d pay it back.”
His head tipped to one side, and he looked her up and down anew. She suspected he was just noticing her frayed cuffs and cheap shoes. He’d been so intent on getting whatever it was he wanted out of her that he hadn’t paid attention to the package it came in until now. When she caught the very slight curl of his lip, there and gone in a flash, embarrassed heat filled her cheeks.
Feeling both dirty and humiliated, she ducked her head. “Never mind. I shouldn’t have asked. I’m sorry, I don’t think I can do this.”
“Come now, I’m sure it’s not that hard. All it takes is a yes.”
“No,” she said, this time with a bit more vehemence. Cormac was right. There was something off about Viper, and never mind what a perfect ass she’d just made of herself. Worst of all, that flash of disgust showed he obviously had no respect for her. At least Cormac never made her feel tolerated. “Thank you for the offer, but I’ll find some other way of getting what I need.”
He slowly rose to stand, heaving a sigh as he settled back on his heels.
“That’s unfortunate. This would have been much easier if you had agreed.”
Kimberly would have asked what he meant by that, but the look in his eyes froze her in place.
His eyes burned a molten gold as he spread his arms, which were expanding and shifting at an alarming rate. Faster than she might have thought possible, he was growing, his clothing melting and skin disappearing under a layer of metallic scales. Nearby, people were noticing, shouting and screaming in fear as they stampeded in every direction to escape the shape changing Other in their midst.
When he ceased growing, from the tip of his nose to the end of his tail, he was over thirty feet long, with a wingspan half again that size.
Kimberly sat immobile, unable to so much as squeak in terror as the beast before her lurched back to arch its neck and spread its wings, barbed tail lashing as it growled at her. One thick, talon-tipped paw lashed out, flattening her on the grass and squeezing the air out of her lungs. It gave an awkward, one-legged hop forward to catch its balance before clenching its claws to dig deep furrows in the grass and close around her waist and legs, pinning her.
Then those wide, ribbed wings began to flap, the sun playing off the tones of brass and copper and gold. The ground fell away, people scattering before the airborne monster.
And Kimberly could do nothing but pray, staring up at this great beast that had her in its claws.
She’d gotten what she’d asked for. Now she would have to pay the price.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Cormac was beside himself with a combination of worry and frustration. When Kimberly had disappeared the night before, he had been ready to tear apart the city to find her.
Then realized what a terrific ass he would make of himself by exposing his nature to her that way.
As damnably frustrating as it was, he thought he should give her the space she so obviously wanted. He had been too heavy handed and cagey with her. It was in his nature to be so, after all, but it appeared it was necessary for him to back off for a little while.
The time apart would be good for both of them, he told himself. It would give him time to think of a way to tell her what he was without sending her fleeing straight into the arms of that snake-in-the-grass, Viper.
Yet his instincts were urging him to hunt her down and make her talk to him, to make her understand.
It took a great deal of effort, but he beat down that animal urge. That was no way to treat her. Not if he wanted her to continue to look at him like she had when he had first offered to help her. With that sparkle in her eye, all hope and warmth and gratefulness. To sink into him like she had when he had pinned her against that wall, melting against him like they were made to fit together. Sneaking those coy, curious looks at him under her lashes, leaning into his touch, laughing and talking with him like he was a person instead of a monster.
He wanted that back. He wanted it so badly he thought he might even agree to let her bind him if only to keep her from experiencing that intimacy with anyone else.
But he didn’t want to see the inevitable look of betrayal on her face when he told her the truth.
It was maddening. He stayed in his shop, pacing the labyrinth of furniture, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides as he fought the urge to leave and find her. What if she came to the shop to tell him why she had fled his protection? What if she called? He shouldn’t leave, just in case.
He had neither the need nor the desire to sleep that night, so he attempted to focus on polishing the furniture. Then reorganizing his books. Then rearranging his herbs, spices and incense.
None of it was working. All he could think about was how he needed to find a way to fix things with Kimberly before he could make it worse. His many mistakes in how he had dealt with her from the beginning were a constant litany in the back of his mind, worried over again and again like a sore tooth he just couldn’t leave alone. If only he had told her what he was, if only he had asked one of his contacts directly instead of making that foolish announcement at the Black Star…
One day, he promised himself. He would give her one day to have some time from him, and he would leave her to her own devices for the time being so he could think of the words to make things right.
Sometime after midnight he had flown out over the Long Island Sound for a couple of hours to clear his head, then returned to his shop to see if she might come to him there. He had never been moved by such a primal urge to keep a woman close, safe, and—strangest of all—happy. Not knowing where she was or being certain that she was safe and well was turning into a constant worry, a pebble in his shoe, always present in his thoughts.
Come the first light of morning, he had sent a couple of his allies to check Allegretto’s throughout the day for him, advising them to call him with urgent updates. To bring him back some of that excellent hazelnut coffee and biscotti, too. He would give Kimberly the space from him she desired, but he had no intention of leaving her open to attack or danger.
When she finished her shift, he knew about it within minutes. One of his informants trailed her from a discreet distance, reporting when she stopped to speak with a couple of the local centaurs. Not dangerous. Nothing for him to concern himself about.
When she arrived at Sheep’s Meadow, he relaxed a measure. No one would be so foolish as to accost her there. He went so far as to head up to the roof to get some air, hunkering like a gargoyle on the ledge overlooking the street above the entrance to his shop. Watching over his territory like that was usually one of his favorite ways of spending his time when he needed a little space.
This time, it was nothing more than a distraction. He kept breathing in the potent bouquet of the city, taking in the mixture of humanity, cats, dogs, vermin and birds, an assortment of foods, smog, oils, hot asphalt, refuse—a variety of aromas that usually soothed him with their familiarity.
Now, he found low growls escaping him when he failed to capture anything more than a ghost of her scent lingering near his doorstep. Kimberly was beyond the range of his natural senses, and he did not want to alarm her with the type of casting he might have to do to pinpoint her location.
And then he received the phone call.
When his cell phone rang, he almost didn’t answer it. Just before it went to voicemail, he shook his head and plucked the tiny piece of plastic out of his pocket. Seeing it was one of the young earthbound elementals he had employed to run his errands, including keeping tabs on Kimberly for him, he tapped the answer button. Then hissed when it didn’t work, sliding his finger along the touch screen, picking up the call. He still wasn’t quite used to using the technology.
“Boss, it’s me. You’re not going to believe this. Viper just took off with Kimberly. He has the girl.”
He very nearly exploded out of his skin in a blind rage when he heard the words “Viper” and “Kimberly” in the same sentence. Then the rest of the news broke through his haze.
Gone. Taken.
By that cowardly snake.
His roar of outrage shook the heavens. Up and down the street, windows shattered, and people cried out in shock and fear. No sound like that should have been able to escape a human throat. The plastic shattered in his grip as he clenched his fingers, then fell with a clatter on the rooftop.
Then he was gone, a snarled Word teleporting him to the center of the node where the ley lines in that part of Central Park converged. More cries of surprise from human throats rose around him as he appeared in their midst, pigeons scattering as a dark apparition that radiated deep fury perched upon the shoulders of the bronze angel statue atop the center of the Bethesda Fountain. In moments, he was leaping from the statue, landing far from the surrounding pool and speeding toward Sheep’s Meadow in a blur.
There were a number of police, media, and quite a few Others in the fringe of onlookers pointing, staring, and taking pictures of the deep divots in the grass. Footprints. Claw marks. He’d recognize the tracks anywhere, as if the bitter, acrid scent of Viper in his true form weren’t hint enough.
Where most would have had to elbow their way in, Cormac had no trouble finding a spot that gave him a clear view of the scene. He cut through the crowd like a shark ghosting through a school of fish, making his way to the leading edge so he could get an unobstructed view. People instinctively parted before him, rushing out of his path even if they weren’t sure why, sensing the beast under the veneer.
His contact, a young changeling like Rieva, was one of those onlookers near the front staring at the growing media circus. As soon as the boy noticed him, he bowed his head deep in subservience to Cormac, then struggled to elbow his way through the crowd to get closer. As he was disguised in the form of a preteen boy, he had to weave and duck around the adults milling around him chattering about the “monster” that had taken off with the girl.
It wasn’t hard to imagine why so many people had turned out to investigate. Vampires and werewolves and magi may have captured the imagination of the general public, but many other varieties of Others had chosen to keep their existence secret. Not only for the fear and panic they might cause, as Viper had done, but because it was unwise to alert the local magi to their presence.
It took a few minutes before the boy reached the empty space the humans had left around Cormac at the front of the police barricade. He ducked his head and shoulders a few times in an attempt at the acceptable bow to use when in the presence of mundanes, keeping his eyes on Cormac’s face for any clues as to how he should proceed. He kept his voice low, leaning in as much as he dared to relay what he knew.
“My lord, I am so sorry, I had no way of stopping it. The wyvern shifted right here in the meadow and took off with her to the east. I lost sight of them once they cleared the trees.”
If Viper managed to bind Kimberly before Cormac could stop him, he would rip the blasted serpent’s wings off and feed them to him, piece by piece. He voiced a soft hiss between clenched teeth before speaking.
“Go to Rieva. Tell her what has happened. And get word about this to Eleanor Reed at The Circle.”
The boy’s eyes widened, but he nodded and took off, having a great deal more difficulty finding a way through the crowd than Cormac had. He wasn’t gifted with the aura of a predator yet; that would come when he was older.
Once the young changeling was gone, Cormac scanned the area with every sense, magical and mundane. He noted the placement of the three-clawed footprints and the slighter indentation where one had obviously pressed Kimberly to the ground before clenching about her. The ley lines showed signs of a deep pull on their energy where the wyvern must have shifted. It left behind an incorporeal trail, only visible by using his Sight, showing him a ghostly afterimage of the change and where it had taken off.
Underlying the damage to the line was a faint glimmer of something bearing the taint of magework. A tiny runic stone, still active and glowing like a tiny white star in the sea of roiling earth and wind magic stirred up by Viper’s presence. The stone was meant to protect the bearer against basic magical attacks.
He focused sharply on the location of the rune, dropping his Sight so he could see beyond the heavy shimmer of tempestuous energy overlaying the entire area. One of the cops was pawing through a purse on the ground, searching for ID, no doubt. The frayed straps and faded material had to be Kimberly’s. The stone with the rune would be inside.
Ducking around the police barricades, Cormac stalked forward. The policewoman looked up, her budding anger and harsh command to get back behind the line dying on her lips the moment she got a good look at him. Some of the other nearby cops swung around, but they, too, were struck with a sudden unexplainable terror that rooted them in place and sent a few scrambling away from the scene. People around the edges of the barricades were edging back, pushing into the people behind them, setting off a new wave of fear.
Ignoring the frantic mortals all around him, Cormac knelt by the purse, placing a hand on it as the policewoman crab-walked away as fast as she could, never taking her eyes off him. He drew on the power of the ley lines surrounding him, calling on wind and earth and spirit to tell him where the owner was now. As Kimberly’s possession, it was an extension of her—something he could use to focus his spell on a particular target. An intangible connection that he committed to memory for future use, even as he flung his power outward to do what he did best. Hunt.
The first wave searched, a formless circle that would echo back her location if she was anywhere within a hundred mile radius.
As he set his anger aside to concentrate on finding his target, the predatory aura he’d been exuding was also reined in. The police began edging closer. O
ne of them tried to get his attention.
“Sir? Sir, you need to get back behind the barricade.”
He ignored them.
A solitary ping in his consciousness turned his focus to the east, and slightly north. Somewhere across the Sound. He sent a more concentrated wave, seeking an exact location.
“Sir. Get back. I’m not going to ask again.”
Cormac growled, low, soft, and sent a great many of those nearest to him stumbling backwards in efforts to escape the formless dread growing root in the pits of their stomachs.
Another ping. She was over water, skimming the coast of Long Island. Viper had to be taking her to his lair in the Pine Barrens.
Cormac’s growl deepened, the tone going from barely audible to bone-rattling in seconds as his form shifted and grew. People surged away as his great bulk appeared, his own talons digging far deeper furrows in the earth than Viper’s. A tremor pulsed through the ground as he settled onto four legs. Though he retained enough presence of mind to keep from stepping on any of the tiny creatures frantically moving around his feet, he only took enough time to orient himself before trumpeting a challenge to his adversary.
The force of his roar sent people to the ground, many of them mid-stride in their mad dashes to escape him, falling to their knees and clutching their ears. The earth trembled. Trees shivered. Distantly, car alarms rang and glass shattered.
Once the sound died down, a fresh wave of panic sent the crowd of onlookers and many of the cops fleeing. Only a couple of the reporters rushed off, most of them screaming into their mics and pointing cameras his way.
He didn’t care. In moments, he was spreading wings nearly triple the span of Viper’s, powerful hind legs launching his serpentine frame into the air. Trees bent, cameras and police equipment scattered, and people fell, flattened on the ground in the wake of his flapping wings, trenches deep enough to lay bodies left behind by his curved talons.
All the while, his focus was on nothing but the sense of Kimberly’s presence, growing closer with every beat of his wings. He was not a creature given to put much stock in faith or prayer, but he silently prayed that he was not too late, that Viper would not succeed in binding her before he could reach them. That she was safe.
