by Beth Caudill
“You think they’re a threat to me?” Drawing upon her power, she encased herself in wholesomeness similar to a shield.
His smile chilled her. “Anyone caught up with them will find their lives irrevocably altered. Most people aren’t willing to assume the risk to their current circumstances.” He brushed past her and the sludge of his evil adhered to her like static cling. “Only a few more days and then vengeance will be mine.”
She wasn’t sure what was going on with Vithar’s family, but she had a good idea why she’d been rerouted here. Her ability to bring peace and guidance was needed.
Hopefully, this time, her efforts would pay off.
Without more information, she didn’t know where to start. No one would share their secrets with a stranger, but one of her bosses had to be around. Her first step—locate the best fishing spot. She closed her eyes and sent a request to the heavens: Who could she ask?
Drawn back toward the bed-and-breakfast, she smiled at the police car cruising in front of the house. It turned up Main Street and then into the diner’s parking lot.
Question asked and answered.
Glancing side to side, she crossed the empty street. Inside the diner, the officer sat in the last booth with his back to the wall. Daphne walked out of the restroom and joined him.
Leyna didn’t want to disturb them, so she settled in at the end of the bar. At least she could get a piece of pie.
“It’s not a great time.”
She glanced at the couple out of the side of her eye.
“When, Daphne? When is it going to be the time for us to talk?” He took her hand in his. “What went wrong? It’s been three years, and you still refuse to tell me what I did wrong.”
Daphne yanked her hand from his and slid from the booth. “You’ve done nothing.” Her voice sounded dull with sorrow. Then she ran out of the diner.
A waitress brought him a hamburger and fries and patted him on the back. “She’ll come around.”
“Thanks, Colette.” He grabbed the ketchup and dragged a fry through the thick condiment.
After the waitress walked away, Leyna heard him lament, “I’m afraid her mind won’t change. She only wanted me when I wasn’t a part of Willows Haven.”
His dejection tugged at her heart. She grabbed her plate of cherry crumble and slid into the seat across from him. “You look like you could use some company.”
She smiled and thought of nothing but happy things. As an officer of the law, he deserved to have some cheer in his life. It was a minor bit of manipulation.
He looked at her and his face wrinkled.
She was sure he’d send her away. Sometimes heartsickness was too strong for her aura.
“Any company is good company at the moment.” His eyes met hers, a clear blue iced with pain.
“There must be some good parts to your job. It can’t all be bad.”
He cocked his head to the side. “My job is great. I like helping people. But apparently, not everyone agrees with my dedication.” He placed some bills under his plate. “Look, you obviously have a question for me. Get to it.”
She blushed. “I’d like to know where the best place to catch a fish is around here. Something quiet, not a lot of traffic. Preferably within walking distance.”
His lips pressed together. “We don’t allow fishing in the water behind the Witching Hour. However, if you follow the trail through the trees along the western bank, it will eventually branch. Take the left-hand fork, and you’ll come to one of the small tributaries that feed into the lake. In the shade of the trees, the fish will bite.”
He stood.
“It was nice meeting you.” She held out her hand.
When he shook it, she pushed a bit of happiness into him. He protected this town. If anyone deserved a bit of sunshine, it was him.
She paid and went to the B&B to change shoes. She’d need boots to go hiking through the woods.
When she started out again toward the fishing hole, the pine needles crunched under her feet. Birds chirped their warnings before taking flight under the shaded tree canopy. There was still a chill to the air because the summer sun had yet to heat the earth. However, that wasn’t what caused the ice in Leyna’s veins.
Confronting one’s boss should not be undertaken lightly.
Particularly when they led a host of angels.
The wind carried an eerie cry, “Whoo. Whoo cooks for you?”
She ducked and spun around as a barred owl glided above her head. He perched in a tree along her path, his dark brown eyes watching her. She tripped on an exposed root, and the owl shook. Almost as if it laughed at her.
“Shouldn’t you be sleeping?” She dusted her hands and continued to the tributary.
Expressly ignoring the bird, who ghosted along the trail beside her. The trees broke, giving her a glimpse of the creek. Water-smoothed stones and tree roots created obstacles for the water as it traveled downstream.
To her right, a pool of still water lay in the shadows of large maple trees. Abandoned bins littered the water’s edge. The sturdiest crate was occupied by the archangel Raphael, one of the four leaders of the guardian angels.
He wore long pants and a blue long-sleeved shirt with a pale brown fishing vest. His white hair was hidden beneath a wide straw hat. Instead of boots or anything ordinary, he wore sandals, but the strangest of all was his fishing rod. He used his staff, Taken from a long-ago tree, with a line on the end. He never kept what he caught, but she wasn’t even sure he ever had a fish take his bait.
“Don’t be shy now, Leyna.” His eyes, full of white power, challenged her. “You have questions.”
She sat on the crate next to him. Usually, his presence carried the feeling of home, the safety of the clouds. At the moment, it felt more like the churning of a large thunderstorm.
“Why am I here?” Despite her perpetual age of twenty-five, the irritation at being robbed of her beach vacation made her whine the question.
He tugged on the staff, patience one of his many annoying attributes. A small ring of waves moved the water in the otherwise still pond. Finally, after a silence so long that she felt like screaming, he said, “Our calling is one of service. You do not get to decide when that ends.”
Her bones jarred at the power in his voice. “I pledged to serve, but whoever is selecting my charges needs different criteria.” She closed her eyes, the failures weighing upon her heart clouded her judgment. “I cannot survive if I fail again.”
“You do not get to decide what failure is. Every mortal has the right to choose. No matter what we do, we preserve that right for them.”
Letting a boy join a group of carefree youths and witnessing him become a man who hurt women for fun meant she hadn’t given him enough light, enough chances to choose the right path. She carried the harm to those women in her heart.
She didn’t deserve to serve.
That was really what her vacation was about. Removing herself from guardian service. She didn’t trust her abilities anymore. Too many mortals had already paid for her inadequacy.
“I cannot fail again. My heart can’t take it.”
“You didn’t fail. The mortal chose the path for him. You gave him a belief in himself. His choice to abuse that gift and do harm is on him. You do not need to carry that weight upon your shoulders.”
She bowed her head. Her mind might know Raphael’s words as fact, but that wasn’t what was in her heart—it ached with the grief of those harmed by her former charge’s actions.
“To lose an angel such as yourself would do far more harm than what those mortals carry forward.”
She faced him. “I cannot watch another babe grow into someone who harms others. I would rather die.”
“Self-sacrifice is not the answer. You are a creature of air, dreams, and possibilities. The sea would swallow you whole and drown your gift.” His eyes pinned her. “We will not allow that, for the good of all creatures on this earth.”
Her mouth opened
to deny their ability to decide for her. But he stopped her.
“Change is inevitable. We don’t deny that. But we will decide where your gifts will do the most good.”
“Here?” She pointed to the quiet river and woods. “This is not a large city where people can become lost or forgotten. What could I possibly do here?”
“Yes, do tell what a guardian could possibly accomplish in this protected place.” A shadow crossed across the sun.
The man who’d told her not to interfere stepped out from behind a tree. He might look distinguished, but there was a spitefulness within his soul.
Raphael popped the staff into the ground, the wet line wrapping around the wood. “You are not welcome in this place.”
“I have come for what is mine. Not even the protections around this place are impenetrable.”
A loud cry shattered the stillness, and the owl swooped down and clawed at the man. He cursed and swung his arm, only to have the bird sink his claws and draw blood. An evil hiss resounded, and black blood welled, dropped to the ground, and sizzled.
The silver-haired man looked to the sky. “Your time is almost gone. Melisande will be mine, and you and your brother will suffer eternal torment.” He stalked away, his hand covering his wounds.
The owl perched above Raphael, his head swiveled, aware of any threats.
“I see you have no need for our protections when such as he is around.”
She didn’t know why the owl followed her around. But she’d been happy for his presence today.
“Don’t let first impressions fool you. There is more than you’d expect buried beneath the surface of this town.” Raphael looked to the water, longing in his gaze. “Try to open your heart, Leyna. Loneliness and danger stalk the streets. Only by embracing the tenderness inside you will you be able to grasp the future.”
He walked toward the forest, then slowly faded into the trees. Eventually, even the squeak of his sandals faded away. Water trickled along its path to the lake, undisturbed by the harshness of the past few minutes.
She was unsettled both by the man who’d confronted an angel and by the apparent change in her status. She was as much adrift as the leaf carried by the stream, sometimes in a circle and other times perilously carried downstream.
Nothing in life was predictable. She just wanted her life to be worthwhile. To help people, guide them along a joyful path.
She started back toward the B&B, the owl a ghost that flew with her. Always watching, ready to defend her. Her heart, battered and bruised, beat in time to the upbeat of the bird’s wings.
4
The magic of the curse released Fremont from its grip. Slowly the pain of the transformation receded. In his wolf form, it was difficult to tell time, but he’d swear the tainted magic hung onto him longer now that they were closer to the end.
He stretched and then shook out his fur. Even after a hundred years, it was still weird to be a wolf. There was no second entity that magically gave him control of the body. He’d spent days learning how to navigate his alternative body, hunt for food, and hide from predators.
Humans being the most difficult to avoid. Willows Haven had been a godsend when they’d moved here. A place Meli would be safe during the day when he was a human and couldn’t watch over her. The curse made her a wolf all the time, yet she still needed to utilize her brownie magic.
Unable to enter houses, she roamed the town tidying up gardens. If there was any good to their plight, it was that his wife was still connected to her earth magic. Had Doyle turned them into birds, she would have withered away, unable to connect with her innate magic.
As it was, they weren’t sure what the curse had done to their child. She’d been a month pregnant when they’d married in 1916, yet her pregnancy had never progressed. They’d had no pups.
Discovering Meli’s magical heritage hadn’t bothered him. What ruffled his fur was that she hadn’t trusted in their love enough to tell him about her birthright. Of course, having four legs instead of two made believing in the existence of the supernatural a whole lot easier.
Vithar groaned as he sat on their patio. The transformation from animal to human was a lot harder than human to animal. “I’ll be really glad when we don’t have to do this anymore.”
Fremont chuffed, then made three short barks to tell Meli it was okay to join them. It wasn’t a naked thing; their clothes always shifted with them. It was more that seeing them change heaped guilt on her. Waiting until after they’d transformed lessened that feeling for her.
It wasn’t her fault some demon didn’t want to take “no” for an answer and then used dark magic to bewitch them. Some guys had no boundaries, and that was saying something coming from a man who’d spent almost every moment of his life with his twin.
A movement to his left drew him from his bleak thoughts. Even as a wolf, she was the most beautiful female he’d seen. Covered in midnight black fur—like her hair—she prowled toward him. He nuzzled her head before they curled around Vithar.
This was their family ritual. The time they took for themselves, to remind each other that they weren’t alone.
Once, he would have heard his brother’s thoughts from across a city. Now, it was easiest when Vithar had his hands in Fremont’s fur. Thankfully, some quirk of their situation allowed Meli to listen in. But only when they were together.
“So, what do you know about the new woman in town?” Fremont struggled to maintain a neutral tone. He prayed this was their chance to end the curse’s influence.
Meli’s head came up off her paws. “There’s someone new in town?”
“A petite blonde. Just his type.”
She snorted. “He doesn’t have a type. Although he was always partial to ones that could carry a conversation.”
Vithar tugged on their tails. “You know, I am right here.”
“Good.” Fremont pounced. “Just how interested in her are you?”
“It’s too soon to tell,” Vithar hedged.
“Keep telling yourself that.” The shading crawling up his brother’s neck was a much better indicator.
Meli licked his hand. “We’ll survive if you don’t find her attractive.”
“That isn’t an issue.” Vithar swiped his hand through his hair. “But do I have the right to embroil her in this mess? Will she become a target?”
Fremont shoved his head against his brother’s chest. “Life is a risk with or without magic. Can you live without love in your heart?”
Vithar stood. “I’m going to go see her.” He turned and walked into the house.
Fremont stared into Meli’s eyes and hoped this was their chance to end their affliction. Hope was something they desperately needed to believe in. Only three days remained before the demon came to collect his due.
Leyna’s red convertible gleamed in the fading light. It matched the fiery streaks in the sky as the last vestiges of sunlight disappeared. Bob must have worked a miracle to have it fixed already. There was nothing Vithar could do to keep her here. He didn’t possess that right.
They’d only spoken a few times, yet he wanted more time with her. To discover the secrets she hid, and maybe reveal a few of his own.
Given it was after dinner and she was still here, he hoped that he had overnight to cherish her company. To enjoy her before the curse dragged him down.
He knocked on the door.
Daphne opened the door. “About time you showed up. She searched for you today.”
He couldn’t keep himself from following Daphne inside. “I know. But right after our shift is time with family.”
Melisande only came by when Fremont was a wolf, and with the curse close to completion, they sat together as the only family each other had. They didn’t speak aloud. Only a few moments of telepathic communication before the sorrowful silence wrapped around them.
He blinked. Once again aware of his surroundings, the hallway of the B&B was bright and cheerful. The cloying smell of the roses in the front hall
vase enveloped him.
Daphne touched his arm. “Don’t give up. You still have time.”
“Unless time stops, three days will not matter.” His voice cracked in despair.
In his heart, already, they were lost.
“Did I hear the door?” Leyna walked around the corner, wiping her hands against her shorts.
His eyes ate up the long length and muscular structure. He admired long limbs on women. More parts of their anatomy touched during sex. “I’m glad you’re still here. Would you like to walk around town?”
“Not at the moment.” Her eyes lacked their bright luster. “I think the living room will do for now.”
She walked past him into the room, and he took hold of her hand.
“Is anything wrong? Something I can do to help?”
“No. I have some career decisions to make. And I’m not sure what’s expected of me. It’s a little disconcerting.”
He stared into her green eyes. “Change is rarely pleasant. Anxiety-inducing, exciting, maybe even an adventure, but reshaping your future is never an easy experience.”
Silence stretched between them. The clang of a pot hitting the floor and a muffled “sorry” from the kitchen broke their trance.
“Here, come sit.” She tugged him onto the two-person sofa. Taking both of his hands, she examined his palms and traced the lines. “I love how long your fingers are.”
“The better to throw a baseball, my dear.” He smiled and relished the gliding of her skin against his. “See anything good in my future?”
A wicked gleam lit her face. “Good is relative. On the plus side, you are dedicated to your family, you’re very confident and emotionally balanced, with an active interest in sex. However, your life line indicates it hasn’t been an easy road. Your fate line is broken and ends abruptly, meaning you’ve had some direction changes yourself, and your destiny is still waiting for you to decide.”
He pulled his hands away and wiped them on his shorts. Even his skin reflected the mess his life had become. Abruptly, he got up and then paced. Anything to be moving and to not dwell on his too-short future. “How about that walk?”
