by Brea Viragh
Van and Odessa shared a long look before she glanced over her shoulder. “I would rather we keep this between ourselves. Let us think of solutions rather than relying on anyone else.”
It might not be the smartest course of action, but it would be the safest, she knew. Van flicked up his brows but said nothing to contradict her.
Calen simply scowled, and the worry already growing larger in her gut ratcheted up another notch.
“If Van is going to be a part of this, then we should not be gone long,” he said. “Someone will come looking for him if they haven’t already. If you want to keep this secret between us, then I will obey, of course. But the longer he is gone, the more suspicious it looks, and the larger our net grows instead of smaller.”
She saw the hesitation on his face. How he hated to be off, to leave her, so soon after arriving. Yes, Van showing up had been unexpected, but he was here now, and they would have to flow with this change in direction.
She felt as shadows flickered across her face. “Stay with me until the sun rises. Please. I...I need to see a familiar face.”
Even when her heart sank, and she felt eyes on her back. Eyes that did not belong to bird or beast. But a monster.
Chapter 9
Odessa tucked her head behind her wing, beak nestling amongst pure white feathers.
I sure never expected to see the two of them standing together. Will they be back? Or do you think they’ll break each other’s necks before they can learn to get along?
The voice sounded in her head as clear as a bell. Jean. Their shared incarceration allowed them to communicate with each other during the day, no matter how incapable their bodies were of physical words. They needed none of those. Telepathy had grown from a tiny seed their first day into something big and bright to connect them. To connect them all.
Thank goodness for it. Odessa might have really gone crazy otherwise, her consciousness shrunk down somewhere it did not belong. The more days she spent on the water, the more aware she became during the day, and the more she came to fear.
This, she knew, was worse than being alone at night. The mage had miscalculated his tactics in that regard.
Jean spoke to her about Van and Calen, both of whom had returned to the pack manor house to begin...whatever it was they’d decided together as the best course of action. Research, if she had to guess, although she’d never seen Van pick up a book. Calen either, for that matter.
If Odessa were honest with herself, she hadn’t paid much attention to them beyond what they both represented to her. She’d been too focused on herself, on her own interests and her duties to the pack to pay much attention to the males.
Funny that she should rely so heavily on them now.
She plucked at her feathers, beak snapping. Yes, they’ll be back, and alive. We have to trust that they will handle things while we are stuck. And yes, learn to get along.
That was what she tried to tell herself repeatedly. To trust Calen. To trust Van, the fiancé she hardly knew.
They’ll find a way.
She tried to reassure Jean in the only way she knew how. With confidence she surely did not feel, even less so in her swan form. The bird’s instincts were always on high alert, senses casting a wide net to search for any potential predators. Racoons, foxes. Wolves. Humans.
I hope you’re right.
Anxiety flooded through the connection, and the tiny mandarin duck swam closer to the swan, feathers of bright gold and red sticking out at odd angles. A fitting change, Odessa thought, although she wasn’t sure how the magic had forced Jean’s fire, her larger-than-life presence, into such a ridiculously small form.
I don’t want to be stuck here any longer than possible.
Yeah, neither did she. Hey, at least we’re alive. Which is more than we can say for the others.
Odessa had struck a nerve with that last telepathic exchange.
The duck hung her head, beak dipping into the water. Yeah.
Jean silently floated away toward a patch of weedy grasses that had become a haven for some of the smaller birds during the day.
Torn between a need to follow and a desire to give space, Odessa kicked her webbed feet through the water, halted only by the sharp peck from a nearby Canadian Goose.
She’ll be fine, Desmond thought to her with little-to-no amusement. His voice soothed, as it had so many times in those first days, whatever raw edge lingered inside of her. Let her be for a while. She’s still trying to get over the adjustment. It takes some much longer than others. And there are those who still cannot comprehend it.
Odessa didn’t know him. Had never met him before her transformation, because she had not recognized the voice, but she’d come to rely on Desmond’s steady presence. Circumstances like these made for strange bedfellows.
I played dirty and I shouldn’t have. I shouldn’t have brought up the other girls. I know she feels responsible for it. I feel responsible for it, she finished.
Desmond had been the first to approach Odessa after the transformation, although she hadn’t understood him at the time. His hands had been the ones stroking strong, smooth lines along her back the first night, assuring her that she was safe.
It had taken her days to acknowledge and make sense of the telepathic connection the prisoners of Swan Lake had between each other. Even more so to see Desmond as a friend, a confidant, standing out from the rest. He had taken to her instantly as a guide. It made sense, seeing as Desmond had been the first to fall to the mad magician’s spell. He’d been confined to the lake longer than the others. Years instead of months or days.
How he managed to remain sane was the question of the day.
Piercing black eyes found hers. If you are going to beat yourself up over this repeatedly, then I’ll be forced to nip you. No one likes a wet blanket. His wings flapped out and ripples spread across the water’s surface. Like Selene over there, who hasn’t said a word since she was trapped here. Besides the initial whimpering and moaning about being ripped away from her lover until she realized that no one cared.
I’m not being a wet blanket. I’m being realistic. Odessa ruffled her feathers. I need to do something or I’m going to go out of my mind. How can I just expect Calen and Van to help me without my assistance? They’ll fall apart without me.
Let me be realistic with you for a second. Okay? Desmond’s sarcasm came through loud and clear.
Odessa would have laughed if she could. I know I can’t stop you.
There isn’t much you can do. Believe me, if there were a way out, or a secret backdoor to the magic, then one of us would have found it by now. All we can do is stay under the radar until he frees us. Or until we learn whatever kind of lesson he’s taken upon himself to teach us. I must be incredibly stupid since I’m still here five years later.
She was hesitant to ask her next question. Although she knew the anxiety would eat her alive from the inside out until she did. Have you...ever seen him free someone? Has anyone escaped from him?
The goose craned its neck in the opposite direction, his answer coming softly. No.
There it was. The syllable she’d been dreading. A sliver of fear wormed its way into her heart, and the swan beat its wings against the water in agitation.
Hey, it’s not all bad, Desmond tried to comfort her by thinking. We get to nap whenever we want, and there is a veritable bevy of bugs for us to eat. It’s a bug buffet!
I’ve never heard of anything that disgusting before. But thanks for trying to brighten things up for me.
It wasn’t like her to be so morose. But after Calen left...she hadn’t been able to bring herself to smile. Not when her people were confused, worried. When her wolf mates had been killed and skinned and their hunter on the loose. And certainly not while she floated helpless. Trapped in this disgusting form that wasn’t her own. As a wolf, she had never taken to fowl before, had never gone after anything with wings that couldn’t defend itself. And now she never would, because she’d been on the ot
her side of the food pyramid, and it wasn’t pretty.
Well, Miss Wet Blanket, since you obviously aren’t in the mood for talking, I’ll have to go entertain myself somewhere else. Probably by shitting in the same water where we fish for food. You know, the fun stuff.
The sass in his voice echoed through her mind, but this time, Odessa didn’t feel like smiling. And she had a few things to make up to her friend.
She sent her mental net wide to initiate the conversation. Hey, Jean—
A brisk wind blew across the lake, invisible fingers wrapping around her neck and yanking her from the still surface. A squawk and honk saw her flying through the air on someone else’s magic, landing in a pile at the feet of the mage.
Against her volition, her body became taught, every muscle hardened and straining. Magic seized her. No, something more. Power that took everything, that controlled everything, even her blood and bones if the wielder wished it.
She couldn’t move. Invisible claws raked themselves against the sides of her mind. One push, and she would cease to be. Who she was would cease to be.
“Ah, there you are, Princess Odessa. Let’s have a little chat, you and I. Sound good?” All-too-real hands took her feet and bound them. The same magic kept her beak closed with just enough pain to let her know not to fight. Not to retaliate.
The man leaned close and cooed at her, a finger trailing along the soft white feathers at the base of her neck.
“Don’t try to speak. I can’t understand you as you are, nor am I privy to whatever magic loophole allows you to communicate with the others,” the mage told her simply, walking toward the husk of the old stone mansion. “You’ll stay in this form until I will it otherwise. So, I suppose this conversation will be a little one-sided. I’ll speak, you’ll listen.”
Holding her, he set off at a brisk pace, away from the lake. A kind of panic she had never experienced coursed through her. Pure helplessness.
“Do you know how easy it is to get inside of a mind? Some people, they have defenses in place. Others, like shifters, are naturally harder to crack, but then there are those...like your friends there on the water. They were easy to crack, shattered like eggshells,” he told her conversationally, running a finger down the length of plumage at her neck a second time, as though imagining how soft those feathers would be on the inside of a jacket, or a pillow.
She shuddered, body burning.
Had she been human, had she maintained any semblance of control over herself, she might have thrown up. The urge was there, but not the physical capability.
Striding through the open hole where a door once stood, the mage dropped Odessa on the floor hard enough for her to hoot with the pain. Her wings had been secured as well, whatever enchantment keeping her beak snapped shut doing the same for those, halting any chance of escape.
She stared at the stranger through eyes that noted everything. Her bird form could not only see colors on the normal spectrum, but those in the ultraviolet range as well. Colors that were invisible to most humans. She saw the energy surrounding the mage, keeping him...no, not keeping him shielded from her. But keeping the glamor in place.
He was not as he appeared. He’d changed his face, hiding his true identity from her and the others.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he warned with a shake of his finger. “I can see how much you hate me. Don’t you see that I do this all for your own good? I offer you a way out.”
She turned away from him. Bound, gagged. Helpless.
“All it takes is a word from you and I’ll set you free. You must bow to me, Odessa Darrow. Bow to me and lend me your power, your authority. I will return every week with the same question until you give me the answer I seek. Unless you learn your lesson before I have the chance to return. Any closer to an answer on that one?” He chuckled, even as those claws raked against her mind, even as he forced his way inside, privy to her most private thoughts.
Even as she burned with outrage and shame with no way to stop him.
No, no.
A twist of pain had her vocal cords contracting enough to allow her speech. As much speech as her swan insides allowed. She trembled in his grip.
“Well? Do you have an answer for me?”
The gravelly strain of laughter she managed sounded wrong coming from her warped form. “I’d rather die first,” she replied, wishing she could spit on him. Or do anything beyond lie there on the ground.
The mage must have found her answer funny as hell, if the knee slap she heard was any indication. “I’m disappointed in you. Honestly disappointed.”
Her head dropped. “I’d think you’d be used to it by now.”
The pain. She had to ignore the pain, or else she’d go mad with it. It wound through her like a virus, infecting her blood and bones.
“You keep pushing me. You keep pushing me until one day, you are going to see.”
“Go ahead and do what you want. I will never give my pack up to you. My people. Whatever power you seek, find it elsewhere. And you can shove your lesson right up your ass. Let me know if you need any help with it.”
“If I told you that it wasn’t your power I seek, but something else? Something infinitely more...valuable?”
“Then I would call you a liar.”
She sensed nothing coming from him in terms of sexual desire. He did not value her body, nor did he want to claim her for his own in any physical sense. If he did not want her position within the Taunway Lake pack hierarchy, then what was the point? Why go to this trouble to kidnap and imprison her?
“It’s fine. It seems you have a little more time to think about it.” The mage strode to the hole in the wall where glass once sat, a barrier to the outside world long since broken. “Look, the moon is rising.”
He indicated the horizon where the barest sliver of silver light peeked through the muted blues and peaches of dusk.
Odessa craned her neck to see. “What of it?”
“Too bad you won’t be on the lake tonight to transform. It seems you could use some solitude away from the others. Maybe a little alone time will help set your mind to rights, get those thoughts straightened out.”
“No!”
Another twist and his spell faded, her throat and vocal cords returning to that of the swan. The mage laughed, leaving her where she lay on the ground, stalking outside until nothing but the echo of his merciless glee remained.
“Until tomorrow, Princess!” Came his whispered farewell, carried on night winds for only her to hear.
Odessa struggled to break free of the ties binding her and found them rigid. Immovable. He couldn’t leave her like this. He couldn’t leave her here with no one to help her, the rest of the birds unable to change to assist her. She’d be alone until he chose to visit her again and reverse whatever he’d done to her.
She’d never felt like crying before this. And if she had, in those small, weak moments, she hadn’t given in. Without even the crickets to sing outside, Odessa closed her eyes, and raged.
Chapter 10
Calen traveled half-heartedly back to the Taunway Lake manor house with Van at his side, a bizarre source of fellowship and one he would never have chosen for himself. Not that he had much choice when it came to friends. There were a few friendly wolves in the kitchen but none he trusted to share pieces of himself.
None except for Odessa.
He would not have considered Van the type to go out of his way to help someone had it not been for the odd circumstances throwing them together. They both kept silent for most of the trip, except for a few choice phrases about what Calen could do to improve his abilities in the brush. A muttered comment on technique when it came to hunting, pointers on building a fire, etc.
Nothing, Calen wanted to tell him. He could do nothing to improve, because he didn’t have the same animal instincts riding him that the others did.
He was useless, suited only for baking and little else.
Van didn’t understand. Or if he did, he wan
ted to change that, no matter what Calen said to the contrary.
A groan lodged in his throat, and Calen cast a nasty stare over his shoulder to where Van stood staring out through the darkness between the trees. He hated the fact that Odessa wanted them to work together, though he swallowed any doubts like bitter alcohol.
Even when looking at Van, he felt a flash of cold tightness across his chest, a roll in his gut—a combination of disgust, hatred, and distrust.
Despite it, despite Van’s smile that could sometimes turn cold and cruel, Calen found himself mildly entertained. Mildly. There was a definite edge to the other wolf, a monster who had been let out of a cage where no one bothered to throw him back, but...
It was a big but.
Neither had he considered Van the type of person to acknowledge those beneath him. Yet, there they sat together twenty minutes later, around a campfire, with bland conversation filling the air.
Van poked at the fire with a stick, encouraging the flames to spring higher, hotter. “You really can’t change your shape?”
Calen shot him a hostile glare, wanting to growl and knowing it would do no good. “No,” he bit out, “I can’t. You already knew the answer to that. And I’m sure you’ve heard the stories about me.”
Van quirked a brow and his lips drew into a tight line. “Yes, I know, and I’m curious as to why.”
Lycans loved to talk, Calen knew. They made it a game between themselves, trading bits of knowledge like currency, and his own beloved pack was no different.
He should have walked away from the fire or given Van some deflective answer. It was better than sitting there under that dark scrutiny, waiting for the other man to laugh under his breath like the others had. The poor soul. The wolf who wasn’t.
“I’m not sure why I can’t shift.” Calen indulged in a shrug when he couldn’t keep his mouth shut. “I feel the pull of the moon, but I’ve never been able to complete the change. The wolf inside of me is mostly silent, except for a few instances here and there. Still. Like there is this empty place where he is supposed to be, and I can’t fight through it to find him.”
