by Sarah Beth
Humming under his breath, Ira shook his head slowly. Pointing to one of the red lights, in an alley close to the Upper East Side, he growled lightly. “This one differed from the others, less messy. One of my wolves said they could smell magic in the air around the body.”
Alex’s body stiffened at the mention of the word. “Magic? Is your wolf certain?” Images of the last few months flashed before his eyes. The last time they had found a body that smelled of magic, they had almost lost Abby. Suddenly, it sounded less and less like a secular thing.
“I trust him and his nose is seldom wrong.” Turning from the table, Ira extended his hand out, and another wolf placed something in his palm. When he turned his body back to the table, Alex saw a piece of brick in his hand. “This symbol was written on the walls on either side of the alley, we removed one of them and destroyed the other. Has your witch ever used a symbol like this?”
Detecting no ill-intent in Ira’s words, just pure curiosity, Alex forced his wolf to lie down. Ira wasn’t accusing Abby, he was simply trying to gain information. “No, I don’t believe that she has. But Abby is still very much learning the basics, if it’s some higher form of magic, she wouldn’t know it.”
“I could send a picture to Claire. She might know.” Tori had been so quiet beside him, Alex had almost forgotten she was there.
Glancing at her, he nodded his head before looking back at Ira. “Claire Hutchins, from Seattle. I used to work with her mother and grandmother. She may be able to tell us what it is.”
Ira hesitated for a brief moment, his fingers curled tighter around the stone. Alex doubted anyone else in the room caught the movement, but Alex couldn’t blame him. They had already learned that to fight magic, you needed to wield it. Ira handed the piece of stone over the table, depositing it into Tori’s hand. “Let’s see was she has to say then.”
Giving the Alpha a quick nod, Tori disappeared into the far corner of the room, her phone in hand. Alex wasn’t sure if Claire would be able to tell them what the symbol meant, but she was their only option. He could send word to Abby and Wesley, but there would be no telling how quickly they would get back to him. Turning his attention back to the table, he gestured towards a group of red lights. “When did this occur?”
“About a week ago, maybe a few days more. It’s what started all of this.” The old alpha chuckled. “Or at least what brought our attention to it.”
Hearing the irritation and remorse in his friend’s voice, Alex’s eyes softened around the edges. “Don’t be upset with yourself. You had no idea any of this nonsense was going on. This isn’t your fault.”
Ira offered him a small smile, “Aye, maybe it isn’t. But this is my city. I’m supposed to protect it.”
Hearing Ira’s accent peek out just slightly sent Alex down a rabbit hole of memories. Of times long forgotten and a language that no one even spoke anymore. Alex could never speak it — but Ira could, and he loved to do it just to irritate Alex. Those days were so long ago, before either of them found their packs and made families. They had been two lone wolves roaming Europe and doing whatever they pleased. Times were different back then, easier in so many ways.
“It’s a shielding spell.” Broken from his thoughts, Alex turned to find Tori standing beside him again, her face grim. “But not an ordinary one — of course. Claire said these are powerful symbols, only someone with a lot of magic, and a lot of control, could use them.” She glanced sideways at him, one brow raised.
Alex sighed, “Which means it couldn’t have been some child playing witch.” But who, or what, did that leave them? Only two species in the world could use magic, and if they took humans out of the equations, then that only left one other.
Ira let out a low growl, causing every head in the room to turn. “Faye. A Faye was helping them.”
Chapter Ten
Wesley
Wesley could feel her pain through the bond, but didn’t know how to fix it. He knew from his own experience that there wasn’t anything he could do. Even though they talked about it once, that it was possible her father was dead, it was something else entirely to have their guesses confirmed. Scooting closer, he put an arm around her middle and pulled her against him. She barely registered it. Her eyes still focused on the fire in front of them. Clearing his throat gently, he turned to Elazar. “The binding spell, it started to wear off before her birthday and then it just stopped working.”
Elazar’s eyes shifted from Abby to him, brows pulling together. “Yes, I’ve thought about that. I suspect that it was weaker when he left for Europe. Whether it stopped working due to Abby reaching her birthday or—.” He stopped, his lips pulling into a thin line. His eyes shifted to Abby before back to Wesley’s. “That will never be answered, we can only speculate.”
Abby lifted her head, her shoulder brushed against his. “Wait, the binding spell was attached to my father?”
Nodding, Elazar gestured at the fire. “Just as this fire needs fuel to burn, so does any spell. Your father had the spell connected to him, to his power.” The corner of his lips pulled into a small, but genuine, smile. “He was keeping you safe, all of your life.”
Wesley felt the spark of anger in Abby before it crossed her face. But before he could say anything to diffuse it, a servant walked into the room. A silver tray in her hands with a letter resting atop it. She stopped by Wesley’s side of the couch, bowing slightly as she offered the tray to him. Reaching for it, the wax seal on the paper made his concerns shift; it was the likeness of a wolf’s head. Grabbing the letter off the tray, he was already ripping it open by the time the servant was walking away. He was vaguely aware of Abby, and Elazar watching him as he read the news from Alex.
After a few minutes, Abby clearly had enough of waiting. She bumped his shoulder with her own, “What does he say?”
He honestly wasn’t sure where to start. He set the letter on his lap and ran a hand down his face. “Things have gotten worse since we left. There have been more murders all over the country, in New York mostly, but he also mentions the ones in London. The news channels are starting to talk about terrorists or something, the humans are panicking. Other wolf packs in the States have been trying to gain control of the vampires in their cities, but it’s not working.” He paused, looking at Elazar before adding, “And it appears that they have allies too, Faye allies. Or at least someone who can use powerful magic.” How was this happening? What had changed to cause the vampires to work together to do something like this?
“What?” Abby leaned away from him, turning her body on the couch. “How is that possible? What are they trying to gain?”
“Control, my dear Abigail.” Elazar was leaning on his legs, his hands steepled. He stared into the fire. “Utter control.”
Wesley mutely handed the letter to Abby, so she could read it herself. He had never, not in his wildest dreams, thought it would get this bad. Vampires had always followed the rules, kept to the shadows. Why would that suddenly change? And Faye working with them? Unheard of. Not that all vampires were blood thirsty creatures — they weren’t. But that didn’t mean Wesley would ever work with them. He certainly wouldn’t commit murder for them. It felt like everything he knew about the world was cracking into fragments. How long would he and Abby be able to stand on the rubble?
Elazar standing brought Wesley’s focus back to the room. The Faye motioned for a servant, before looking back at Wesley and Abby. “You meet with the Elders in the morning, you must bring this to their attention. I don’t promise that it will be easy, but you must speak of it. I’ll offer all the help that I can.” He turned to Abby, his expression softening, “We have much more to discuss, child. I am sorry to cut it short tonight. But we will speak more soon.”
A different servant walked into the room, two cloaks draped over his arms. Elazar gestured to the long pieces of fabric, “It will have cooled down outside, please wear these to stay warm. I will see you both in the morning. Try to get some rest.”
~~
~
Wesley sat on the edge of the bed, watching Abby pace around the room. When they returned to their quarters, lanterns were lit and hung from the ceiling. The fire was stocked and roaring, chasing any chill that may have been in the space. Soft, white nightshirts were laid on the bed for them, and robes hung by the bathroom alcove.
But going to sleep was the last thing on Wesley mind; he was still reeling from the letter. Were they living in a dream? Was the expansive tree house they were in just in his head? Because that was the only explanation he had for what was happening. Abby sighed as she paced, playing with some of her hair. He knew she would not be ready to sleep soon, either.
She changed direction, walking towards the bathroom just off the bed platform. Her bottom lip was pulled between her teeth, her fingers twisting a piece of hair around and around. When she was in front of him, he reached out and snagged her around the waist. Pulling her into his lap, he held her close. Pressing a kiss to her hair, his hands gently reached for hers. “You’re thinking too much, you need to relax.”
Groaning, she leaned into his chest and played with his fingers instead of her hair. “How am I supposed to relax? I know infinitely more about my father now than I did a few hours ago, and yet I still don’t even know his name. There’s a war brewing outside of the Forest and we’re too far away to help. We should be there, not sitting here. Everything is out of control.”
Taking a deep breath, Wesley leaned his forehead against her back to steady his own thoughts. Focusing, he tried to separate his own anxieties from hers. It wasn’t easy; they were both so worried and scared for their family; concerned about what the Elders would say tomorrow or the Council, when they finally arrived. But if his aim was to calm her down, he needed to calm himself down, too. Pulling her tightly against his chest, he rested his chin on her shoulder. “I know this is crazy, and scary, and frustrating. But Alex will keep the pack safe. That’s all we can focus on right now. And Elazar said he’d tell you more, and I believe him. Plus,” he shrugged as best he could, “I’m guessing that if he knows who your father is, other people do too.”
He lifted his head as she turned to look at him, her eyes bright with that fire he loved so much. “You think so? I thought only Elazar would know, since it’s this big secret and everything.”
Smiling at the sarcasm in her voice, he gently placed his lips to the side of her jaw. “True, but something tells me secrets don’t stay secret for long among the Faye. Maybe you can ask Meira in the morning if she knows anyone who would be willing to talk to you.”
He could practically see the wheels in her head start turning, ready to solve the dilemma before them. But while his little witch was focused on finding out more about her parentage, his mind kept wandering to the pack. Growing up, he had always hated being sent away when they went off on some adventure. Alex never wanted to put him in danger, always making sure his son was safe before going off to take care of a wayward wolf or something else entirely. This felt a lot like that.
The High Forest was a completely different world than the one he came from. He suspected that the mountains could have been burning around them and the Faye wouldn’t know — or care. Content to stay in the safety and seclusion of their own making. But the rest of the world wasn’t so lucky. Wars were tearing apart the planet, and yet the Faye couldn’t care less. He knew they weren’t all bad, not really. Elazar had proven to be an alright guy, and Meira seemed nice. Even Soryn, who Wesley still couldn’t bring himself to like, wasn’t all bad. But if a catastrophe threatened the world around their home, would any of them notice?
Soft fingers ran across his forehead. Meeting green eyes, Wesley smiled and leaned into her hand. “You look stressed too.”
He chuckled, “Oh, just thinking of the world being drowned in blood outside our little haven here.”
She leaned her head on his chest, pulling her legs into his lap. “We’re in quite a position here, aren’t we?”
Running his hand up and down her side, still holding her close with the other one, he sighed. “That’s one way to look at it.”
They sat together in silence for a while. The only movement in the room coming from the flames of the fire and the light breeze through the window. Although he wasn’t cold by any means, he still felt the warmth as it spread into his body from Abby’s. Everywhere their bodies touched, especially from the bare skin of their arms, her power flowed through her and into him. It hit him then, how alone and close they were. No annoying pack brothers — or sister — would come stomping down the basement stairs at any moment. Alex wasn’t around to yell for them to come upstairs. It was only them and the fire of her magic as it heated his skin.
He didn’t think he would ever get used to the feeling of it. Everything around him became brighter and louder. The breeze shifted the bed cover where it hung over the edge. The scents of the other houses around them mingled with the strong scent of smoke and charred wood. Colors in the room became more saturated. But none of that compared to the feel of Abby against his body and her scent in his nose. It was like his nerves were electrified, every shift making them spark. And then he could feel her in his head. Like a gentle breeze as it moved through a tree, warm and inviting.
She was scared, more than she let on. Scared of what it would mean, to finally know who her father is. Scared of what might happen to their family while they were away. Scared of their meeting with the Elders in the morning.
But she was also incredibly happy and hopeful. An image of the glade was playing before him, it’s quiet and welcoming atmosphere filling his senses. He saw it through her eyes — all green and magical — and was taken aback by how different it had been to him. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, she felt at home here. And there was fear again, weaving its way through it all.
Just as suddenly as it had begun, the warmth receded back into its source, leaving him feeling slightly chilled and yet full of adrenaline. His breath was coming in shallow, a little too quick, like he had been running. Playing with the ends of her hair, he couldn’t help but smile. “I don’t think I’m ever going to get used to that.”
She chuckled, music in the quiet of the night. “I’ll ask you about it then, in another hundred years or so.”
Often forgetting how much time they truly had in front of them, he was momentarily shocked by the prospect. God, how had he gotten so lucky? He must have done something good in his life, to deserve the masterpiece in his arms. Holding her close, the scent of lilac and rain soaked earth filling his nose, he closed his eyes. A soft sigh escaping his lips. They should go to bed, but he didn’t want to ruin the silence just yet. Too focused on the woman in his arms than to worry about being tired in the morning.
A vision of his Mate sitting in that glade earlier came to his mind, the sun doing things to her hair that he loved to bear witness too. He imagined doing things to that hair in that glade. Things that would probably get them banished from the High Forest. The woman in his arms sighed, her breath skimming across the skin of his arms, bringing him back to the present. He could feel her smiling in the recesses of his mind, even though he couldn’t see her face. Their bodies may have been close, but it was their minds that were impossibly linked.
Without allowing his thoughts to take form, less she feel his intent in her own mind, he stood abruptly. A shocked breath ghosted across his neck, a chuckle vibrating her frame where it pushed against his own. He held her close before turning her back to the bed, laying her down as gently as he had ever laid anything in his life.
Her lips were on his neck then, ghosting over the junction of his chin and then the bottom of his ear. Fire was forming in his veins and he wasn’t sure if it belonged to him or to her. Maybe it was both.
Hands splayed on the back of his neck began to wander down the expanse of the thin shirt separating his skin from hers. He was suffocating. The shirt landed on the floor before he had a chance to register it coming over his head.
The musical sound of his Mate�
��s laughter filled the space, dying off only when his lips barely brushed hers. He was breathing heavily already, his heart hammering away behind his ribs, begging for release. When they parted, he knew that she was feeling just as out of control as he was. Her fingers left trails of imaginary flame on his back as they made motions up and down. He was going to combust if her hands didn’t stop their ministrations.
A hand found its way into the waves of her hair, burying itself in the strands at the base of her head. Her lips parted in a gasp and he took advantage of the surprise to get closer. God, he could kiss this woman for the rest of his life and never need air. His free hand began wandering up her side, very aware of the way her muscles twitched under the light exploration. As much as he adored the way she looked in the sky-blue tunic she wore, he wanted it off. Now. Before his fingers could do more than grip at the fabric, her hand was on his chest, pushing. It wasn’t without effort that he leaned back, missing the feeling of her lips on his instantly.
God, she would be the death of him. Looking down at her, with her hair blown out over the bedspread and her lips red from their kissing, he didn’t think she could ever look more beautiful. But then she sat up, causing him to move away further, and began to unlace the front bodice of her shirt. Yeah, he would not survive the night, if the thoughts floating their way into his head was anything to go by.
As the last bit of silk ribbon came free of its binding, Wesley laid his hands over hers. Her green eyes looked unnaturally bright when she looked up through her lashes. Taking a steadying breath, he used his own body to push her back into the plush bed. A smile tugged at the corners of her lips as he leaned in, brushing their lips together lightly. His hand found its way back into her hair, and one of hers rested gently on his cheek.
