by Caris Roane
Chapter Five
Kiara stood at the threshold of her spellroom mentally reviewing her spell creation process. She began by focusing on the nature of the painful partial-shifts.
She also decided to leave the door open in case Warren wanted to watch. She didn’t understand their strange, evolving connection. But she did get how much they needed to work together right now if they were to save the wolves at Ralph’s club.
As she approached her wooden worktable, however, she realized she was scared. Not about heading to the Strip and engaging Julio’s forces or even the presence of a wizard. No, something far more personal had her adrenaline pumping.
She’d planned on leaving Savage this evening as much because of the vulnerability of her heart as for Warren’s sake. He would never want to align himself with a witch, not with the scars he bore.
When she’d awakened, her first thoughts had been all about the sex she’d enjoyed with him. It had been beyond amazing. But on the heels of these recollections, she recalled the ghostly warning she’d received that her presence in Savage was a danger to Warren.
Tears stung her eyes as she gripped the edge of the table for balance. She knew what this was going to cost her to leave him. Each minute she spent with Warren put her heart at even greater risk. The closer they worked together, the more her attachment to him would grow. It was as though fate had created a very witch-like spell to bind her to him whether she liked it or not. If she’d thought there was the smallest hope for the two of them to actually be together, she would be ecstatic.
Instead, she could feel her love for him reaching critical mass, though every instinct she possessed told her it couldn’t last. Warren was a wolf fully devoted to Savage and she wouldn’t do anything that would prevent him from fulfilling his sense of obligation to his people.
Tears splashed onto the worktable. She stared at the darker spots on the natural, unvarnished wood grain and forced herself to take deep breaths. Dammit, she was grieving for a loss she hadn’t even experienced. But she could feel the future as though it was already in front of her, as tangible as the glass jars of herbs, roots, and mushrooms lined up on the shelves in front of her.
But this wouldn’t do. She had to get to the Strip with her potion, as in now.
She forced her thoughts toward Ralph and his wolves. She straightened her shoulders. She wouldn’t turn away from the mission despite her certainty her partnership with Warren was destined to rip her heart to shreds.
She wouldn’t hold back either. It wasn’t her way. She was all in. She would join her powers and abilities with Warren in whatever way was necessary. Together, they would rescue and heal Ralph’s wolves and hopefully keep Savage out of the hands of a wizard who had no business being in wolf territory in the first place.
Maybe because she’d worked so swiftly through the difficulty in front of her, as she opened herself up to creating the spell, she felt as though a fire went through her. Her witchness came alive in an intense, surprising way.
She recalled the painful howling she’d heard. She knew it wasn’t just her normal empathy. Instead, what she felt was an emerging wolfness because of her proximity to Warren. She could now feel just how painful the partial-shift was for the wolves.
She used the sensations to build the spell within her mind. Her nostrils flared as she mentally explored the different herbs, minerals, and other organic materials she kept in the glass containers in front of her.
Every witch had a different method for spellcasting. She used a base in each spell of dried freesia flowers. She had a connection to freesias and all her spells made use of it in varying quantities.
Drawing her mortar forward, she pulled several jars from the shelves. She held the spell in her mind and committed it to memory. Later, she would write the recipe down, using spelled black ink and paper she’d made herself. The ritual of putting words to paper was a final part of the process, but not something she could do right now. That would be for later, in a meditative, respectful state.
“How do you know what to do?” Warren’s voice flowed toward her spellroom entrance.
She glanced over her shoulder. She wasn’t sure she would ever quite get used to the sheer size of him. For one thing, his shoulders spanned the doorway.
His hair was damp and combed back from his face revealing the strong lines of his cheekbones. He’d showered quickly and wore the clothes Fergus-via-Mary had provided. His left eye, which had been closed-up for so long, seemed even more open than it had been.
She reacted as she always did with a need that gripped her stomach hard and made her legs ache. She was in so much trouble with him.
She took a moment to collect herself then turned back to the spell. She addressed his question. “I focus on whatever situation I want to affect then the spell comes to me.”
“Your scent seems stronger, the freesias I mean.”
“It’s my signature. I’ve used it as a base in my spells almost from the beginning. You can come closer if you like, watch my process.”
He drew up next to her and his storm-wolf scent hit her sensitive witch palette, then the pleasure centers of her brain. Her knees buckled a little more. She used levitation to keep from falling over.
Trouble was right.
Using her pestle, she ground the ingredients into a powder. “I need to warn you about something.”
“What’s that?”
She felt his tension and how much he was torn internally. She could feel his distrust of spellcasting. If that wasn’t bad enough, he really wasn’t going to like what she had to say next. “I use emerald flame in my spells. Maeve taught me the advantage of it. I’ve resisted it all these years, but the drug enhances the spell exponentially.”
She felt the waves of his sudden anger ripple over her. “You can’t mean what you’re saying? You use emerald flame in your spells?”
“I knew it would be difficult for you to accept. But I’ve experimented with it at length during the past two months, since Maeve and Braden rescued me. But I promise you, it will speed the curative power of the potion I’ll be giving to the wolves.”
He drew close so that she had to look up at him and meet his gaze. His eyes flashed. “Do you have any idea the kind of damage the flame drugs have inflicted on my territory? Wolves are especially susceptible to emerald flame.”
She turned toward him. “Let me show you the quantity. Maybe that will help.” She knew he needed to see it. As Maeve had taught her, she kept the drug in pure granular form and stored in her mini-fridge.
Removing it from the fridge, she set the ceramic container on the wood counter. With great care, she unscrewed the lid then used her tweezers to gather three small grains and let each drop into the mortar.
When they were nestled in the powder, she resealed the container carefully then returned the drug back to the fridge. “Three grains, Warren. That’s all.”
“I don’t understand.” He leaned forward and stared down into the marble receptacle. “How can a small portion like this make a difference?”
She shrugged. “It’s a mystery to me, too, but it works.” She wondered about something. “Are you saying you can sense it as well, the efficacy I mean?”
She glanced at him. As she caught his scent again, her nostrils quivered in a way that was more wolf-like than witch, one more sign just how aligned with him she was.
“I’m not sure how I know,” he said. “But I can tell the drug makes the spell stronger. And one more thing, I can sense this is what the wolves need. How the hell do I know that?”
“Maeve and Braden went through something similar. They shared each other’s abilities.”
He lowered his voice but appeared to be speaking more to himself than to her. “Fergus and Mary as well.”
She tore her gaze away from his face and used her pestle to grind the flame drug into the powder. She worked her wrist, twisting the pestle and pressing down hard, then swirling over the bowl to pull the powder together then grind so
me more. She continued the process until her witchness told her the drug was well incorporated.
When the powder base was ready, she withdrew a bottle of purified water from the fridge. Using a small scoop, she added the powder to the water then screwed the lid back on. She shook the bottle gently. She knew the potion had been fully incorporated when the clear water suddenly turned a deep emerald color.
She took a small, purple satchel from the cupboard below her worktable, which she used for transporting her potions. She placed the bottle inside, then slung the shoulder strap over her head until she had it settled across her body diagonally.
She released a tense breath of air. “Ready if you are.”
Warren had a deep frown between his brows as he turned to her. “You’re sure about this? Going with, I mean.”
“You’re not?”
“The trouble is, I know I can take the potion with me and use it to heal the wolves. This mission will be very dangerous for you.”
She planted a hand on his bare arm and squeezed. “It’ll be all right.”
She felt him relax a little. “Thanks for that,” he said. “So, you’re all set?”
“I am.”
“Then let’s go.”
She led the way through her living room and back to the foyer, then up the stairs.
When she was outside with him, he was ready to take to the skies, but she held him back. “I need to pull you inside the invisibility shield.”
“Right. Do it.”
She watched him set his jaw as she took his arm and began employing the mental spell she’d created. It had taken her months to learn how to fold the space around her just enough, adjusting time by a split second so she wouldn’t be visible.
The process had become seamless for her and not painful at all, but Warren was one tense body. If she took him into the shield now, it would hurt like hell.
She rubbed his arm. “The key is to relax and surrender.”
He shook his head “Two things I’m not good at.”
She chuckled. “No. You’re not. But try anyway.”
He lifted his chin, closed his eyes then took several purposeful breaths.
“Ready?”
“Let’s go.”
She took his hand then pulled him with her as she moved within the shield. He was good until the last split-second. He must have tensed-up, since he gave a wolf’s yelp.
She squeezed his hand. “Hey, much better. You almost made it all the way that time.”
He rubbed his opposite arm and shoulder. “Yeah. I tensed at the last second.”
“You’ll get the hang of it.”
He narrowed his gaze, slung his arm around her waist and dragged her suddenly straight into the air. She gave a cry and grabbed hold of him. She mentally parted the security spell around the property.
She could fly herself, so it irked her that he’d pulled her so unceremoniously in such a quick ascent.
Okay, maybe she’d been a little condescending. She also thought she understood just how frustrated he was about the entire situation. Neither of them thought it was wise to be so close.
She chose not to protest and finally relaxed against him. Besides, he was moving fast. They were only a couple of miles away as they shot above the top of the pine forest.
The trees quickly gave way to tract homes and a few leftover strip centers from the pre-alter world. In the distance, the light along Savage Strip lit up the horizon. To her dismay, she heard the running pop of AR-15s.
With one arm still holding her tight, Warren drew his phone to his ear. “Fergus, we’re almost there. Give me the lay-out.”
Kiara normally wouldn’t have been able to hear anything, but her ears caught every word Fergus said as though she was holding the phone and not Warren. Another damn wolf-sign. She swore her connection to Warren grew stronger with each second that passed. His own increasing warlock abilities spoke to the same issue.
She could hear the adrenaline in Fergus’s voice. His voice was clipped. “Fifty feet above the club. Twenty enemy troops. Fifteen in front, blasting away at the outside of the building. The bridge is closed. Just spoke to Roberts. He’s keeping the Border Patrol away since half the patrol already belongs to the cartels. Julio’s standing across the street from Ralph’s club. The bastard is smiling.”
“I see you now in the distance. We’ll stay at the perimeter. Looks like you’ve got about seventy Gordion wolves with you.”
“Damn straight I do.”
Fergus’s wolves levitated in a battle array behind Fergus. They wore the amber trimmed black tanks that would identify his troops in battle.
She watched as Fergus scanned the skies in their direction. “Can’t see a thing, but I know you’re there. Damn, that’s power.”
Kiara felt Warren’s chest swell. Was it pride for her? “Kiara’s not the usual witch.”
“No, she’s not. Hold on a sec. Mary’s checking in. She’s in the dreamglide.” Mary was a gifted fae with a boatload of power herself. The dreamglide was a rare phenomenon that only a handful of fae could create. Fergus could as well, because he’d bonded with Mary and had serious fae abilities now.
Fergus was silent for a moment, then continued, “Okay. Mary’s found Ralph and the wolves in the safe room. Looks like they’re in a lot of pain, though Ralph’s fine.” Mary wasn’t physically near the Strip. Instead, she was back at the Gordion compound in a safe environment. To be in the dreamglide, she was in a near unconscious state, prone and vulnerable.
Kiara had heard the tenderness in Fergus’s voice the moment he spoke Mary’s name. She was his bonded alpha-mate.
Kiara leaned closer to the phone. “I know where the safe room is located, but in order to keep the wolves and Ralph safe, the door would have to opened then closed. Maybe Mary could watch the position of Julio’s men and guide us in undetected.”
“She could definitely do that. Let me contact her.”
Though Kiara could have easily levitated in the air by herself, Warren still held her tight. At first, she thought it was for protective reasons. But the part of her that was assimilating some of Warren’s wolfness realized he was experiencing a profound need to remain closely connected to her as a wolf.
She could feel the purpose of their connection now as well. She accessed her telepathy. Are you sensing a call between us about the battle?
Yes. I know that if I let go of you, even for a second, something bad will happen. Can you get a bead on it? With your witchness, I mean?
I’ll try. Kiara drew a settling breath then opened up her most primal witch-self, the part of her that had taken so long to get used to. Though every witch had a different experience, hers came with an awareness of any witch or warlock in her immediate vicinity. She could read them easily, especially whether they were inclined toward the dark covens.
Mostly, she kept this part of her shut down because her sensitivity in this way tended to give her a headache.
As she focused on her inner eye and what she could feel around her, a terrible chill when through her. She became aware of him, of the wizard. She had an awareness of the color green, a kind of iridescence like the beauty of a hummingbird’s feathers. She supposed it was the nature of the wizard’s cloak, another layer of his disguise. But all the impressions she had were faint. He’s here, Warren.
The wizard?
Yes.
Where? Can you see him?
No. He’s keeping himself hidden.
Warren snorted. No surprise there.
Kiara cringed. She knew how much Warren despised this aspect of her kind. In so many ways, it was the opposite of wolf-life in Savage. In a sudden moment of understanding, she realized this was one of the reasons she liked Warren as much as she did. His wolfish straightforwardness.
In Elegance Territory, dominated by warlocks and witches, many of great power, she was always looking over her shoulder. In Savage, she just needed to watch what was coming through the front door.
Is it Glis
sane? She could sense Warren’s rise in tension as he posed the question.
I honestly don’t know.
Can you get a general location? Behind? Below? Closer to the Strip?
Sorry, I can’t tell you, but I’ll keep on it.
Her gaze was drawn to the ongoing battle below. As high up as they were, it was like watching small animals move around with the occasional burst of gunfire and white streaks of light. She didn’t know why Julio’s men were firing at all since according to Ralph anyone outside of the safe room was probably dead.
Fergus reported in again through Warren’s cell. “I’m moving half my force to the alley entrance.” Kiara watched thirty or so Gordion wolves levitate toward the south, past the alley. Slowly, they began to descend and move into position in an area of rubble beyond the alley. Most of the houses were gone and the space between the Strip and the Five Bridges border wall was known as No Man’s Land. In the distance, huge spotlights continually scanned for drug runners. To the east, she could see the stalled Bridge traffic a half-mile away.
Fergus came back on the line. “Mary said to come through the alley entrance since the safe room is connected to the office. Hold on. Ralph’s calling in.”
Kiara gripped Warren tightly around the waist, waiting. Each second felt like an eternity.
Fergus returned. “You need to be prepared. Mary says there are several dead female wolves on and near the stage, as well as in the dressing rooms. On the floor, at least twenty dead humans, no one was spared. When Julio’s men went in, they just started shooting. But Donaldson won’t want the Feds coming in, though I don’t know how he’s going to keep them out. We’ve got one helluva mess.”
Kiara glanced up the Strip. What was Julio hoping to gain from an overt battle, especially with dead humans? But maybe a man like Julio didn’t need a reason. No doubt he got off on killing as well as the chaos.
Let’s head to the back entrance, Warren said.
