by Ally Shields
“Abigail, please look at me.”
Her steps faltered, and she reluctantly turned.
“I don’t know what to say to you,” he admitted. His voice was uncertain. “So much has happened in such a short time. Should I apologize for yesterday?”
She took a quick step forward, holding out her hands. “Please don’t. I’m not sorry for anything that happened between us. I will always remember our time together.”
He captured her hands in his, drawing her within inches of an embrace. “I don’t suppose you would consider staying?”
She met his gaze, and a thousand thoughts collided in her head. What if she did? Would changing the future really matter? Would it make a difference to the world if Andreas never became a vampire?
“I can’t,” she said. “But part of me wishes I could.”
Manfred cleared his throat from the doorway, and Abigail pulled away.
“Sorry to interrupt, sir, but the family rings are lying on your desk. Do you wish me to place them in the safe?”
“Yes, Manfred. Thank you. I won’t be needing them.”
Abigail drew in a quick breath. The ring was so close. She resisted a wild urge to run into his study and snatch it. At least she knew she’d be looking for a safe.
“And Manfred, please have the carriage pulled around. Signorina Foster returns to America today.”
“Very good, sir.” He bowed and left the room.
Abigail and Andreas walked slowly toward the front drive. She laid a hand on his arm as the carriage pulled up.
“Let’s say good-bye here. You have arrangements to make, and your driver can take me back. I’d like to remember you here at the casa.” She fought back tears, knowing if she cried it would be harder on both of them.
“Since I do not want to say good-bye at all, here is as good a place as any.” Ignoring the servant on the carriage and Manfred who had just come out of the house, Andreas bent his head and kissed her. “I will miss you more than I can say,” he whispered.
“Me, too.” Blinking rapidly, she allowed him to hand her into the carriage.
“Signorina.” Manfred hurried forward. “Signor Fredrico asked me to give you this when the time came. It is the Chinese letter opener you admired.”
Her gaze flew to Andreas’s face, and they smiled at one another, remembering his early suspicions.
“It is a fitting gift,” he said.
“Thank you, Manfred. I will think of Fredrico whenever I see it.” She tucked the box in her cloth purse and nodded to the driver. A tear trickled down her face as she waved good-bye one last time.
Arriving at the inn, she dried her tears, hurried inside, and grabbed her bag. She dumped her old-fashioned purse inside, a slight smile curving her lips as she thought about the letter opener. Fredrico had such a quick wit and dry sense of humor. Since she’d never actually seen the letter opener, she slipped the box out and opened the lid for a peek.
She gasped and dropped the box. It clattered to the floor and the contents rolled across the room. The Chinese letter opener wasn’t the only thing inside. The emerald ring twinkled on the floor.
“Oh, Fredrico.” She collapsed to her knees and burst into tears. He’d taken steps to put the ring in her hands; even in his final hours he’d done his best to ensure Andreas’s future. She sighed, wondering what he’d said to his manservant, and sent a silent thank you to Manfred too.
Abigail wiped her eyes. She couldn’t let any of them down now. She had to get back to Riverdale and make a difference.
She collected the box and its contents, stored them away in her bag, and headed down the stairs.
Mrs. Paglia was at the front desk. Abigail called “Grazie” to her and kept walking. The best way to avoid questions about her fictitious brother was to act as if she was hurrying on her way to meet him somewhere. This time the language barrier was a blessing.
She continued briskly through town, which was almost deserted this late in the day and reached the outskirts without meeting anyone she knew. In order to reverse the time travel, she needed to leave from the same place where she’d arrived, and that had been one of the first places she’d located while driving around the countryside. She’d figured out a short cut that would get her to that dirt road within fifteen minutes.
As she covered the short distance, she was already thinking ahead. What was happening in Toronto? Would she be in time? Would the heirlooms make a difference? Her stomach fluttered nervously, a reminder of her other concern. What would Andreas say about the baby?
She rounded the last bend, checked both directions to make sure she was alone, and stopped in the middle of the road. A faint touch of magic verified she’d found the designated spot. Abigail reached out for the vortex’s power and started the magical chant. As the air around her began to change, she almost stepped back. What if she’d miscalculated? What if the vortex took her to a place where neither Andreas existed? Could she bear to lose them both? Before she could process the thought, the abyss of nothingness dragged her under.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
7:12. She was due back at 7:12.
Andreas shifted impatiently under Gabriel’s scrutiny and kept an eye on his watch. 7:14. 7:15. Still nothing from his magical link with Arianna. He opened the mental gate wider.
7:20. Something had gone wrong. His chest tightened with the simple admission. Every instinct yelled at him to rush home, yank her back through the vortex. But it did not work that way. He clenched his fists in helpless frustration.
Gabriel hadn’t asked for an update after Andreas’s initial sharp reply.
Andreas tried to call Oliver, who was supposed to be waiting for Arianna at Spirit Cave, but of course it went to voice mail. No service in the caverns.
7:30.
Gabriel stood. “She’ll make it, somehow. If anyone can find a way, Ari will. It’s time we joined the others.”
Andreas nodded tersely.
They found Raphael, Bolivar, and several shapeshifter leaders with Daron in the audience chambers. This was the designated waiting area while Andreas and Daron met with the elders in the anteroom. The other leaders had wanted to be on hand to hear the results as soon as the eight o’clock meeting ended.
At 7:40 Andreas attempted to call Oliver again. When the call switched to the recording, he clicked off and stuffed the phone in his pocket.
Daron glanced at him. “No word from her?” Except for Mike and Andreas’s people, the leaders present were not aware of Ari’s whereabouts, just that she appeared to be out of contact and Andreas was getting worried.
“Nothing.” He bit off the word. His mind ran wild with possibilities of what had kept her beyond her scheduled time. He refused to believe she would not make it back. He took a deep breath and flexed his shoulders. He had to focus on the elders and dealing with whatever trickery they were plotting. Their hour-long delay was motivated by nothing good. Andreas was certain of that.
He flinched at a sharp surge of apprehension. If she did not make it back, it would make no difference to him what the elders did. He began to pace to wear off the tense edge of energy. Gabriel followed his restless movements with worry written across his face. Daron glanced at him from time to time.
At 7:58 one of Daron’s shifters reported that Bastian was in the compound.
“Just Bastian?” Daron asked.
“Yes, he’s alone. Since he asked if Porbius was here, they may be coming separately.”
Daron stood, his swift movement conveying his surprise. “A curious development. Show him to the meeting room. Let us find out what he has to say.”
Andreas rose to follow, then jerked to an abrupt halt. The possibility hit him all at once. “Hell’s fire!” He whipped out his cell phone and dialed his security officer in Riverdale.
“What the…” Daron spun around, mirroring the alarm of others in the room.
Andreas ignored them. His officer picked up.
“Have you heard from Oliver?” Andreas as
ked. “Porbius is missing. I want to be certain he isn’t in Riverdale.”
Gabriel swore, loudly.
“Nothing from Oliver, sir,” his security officer answered.
“Dispatch a runner to the caverns. Call me the minute you learn anything.” He ended the call and clutched his fist around the phone as if he could strangle Porbius through it.
“Well, what did they say?” Daron demanded, anxiety written across his face.
“They don’t know.” What was happening at the vortex? If Porbius was responsible for Arianna’s absence, Andreas would personally drag him through the fires of hell.
He thrust the phone into Gabriel’s hands. “They will call when they know anything. Break down the door if you need me.”
Before Gabriel could respond, Andreas turned away and stalked toward the shielded room. Bastian might be the one man who could answer his question.
Daron grabbed his arm. “Not yet. You are too angry. Let me start.” Daron pushed past him.
Bastian stood on the other side of the small table. He scowled as Mike brought up the rear with an assault rifle on his shoulder.
“What is this?” Bastian asked. “We agreed that no one else would be in the room.”
“Your rules, not mine,” Daron said. “Will Porbius be joining us?”
“I do not know.”
Andreas’s tension spiked higher, and he couldn’t keep quiet. “Why not?” He had not expected to see Bastian look so ruffled, so uncertain. Either the elder was alarmed by Porbius’s behavior, or this was all part of their act.
“I have no idea where he is. The meeting was delayed at his request, but I have not seen him since late afternoon. The situation could be worsening faster than I predicted.”
“What does that mean?” Andreas took an aggressive step forward. “Is Porbius in Riverdale?”
Bastian frowned. “I do not think so.” He appeared to consider the possibility. “I have no reason to think that, unless you are aware of something I am not.”
“It wouldn’t be the first attack on my court.” Andreas kept his gaze locked with Bastian’s.
The elder cocked his head. “Why would he go after your court? Or is it Arianna who has you so alarmed? I continue to wonder why we have not seen her.”
Andreas got control of his temper. “I believe I mentioned she would be joining us later.”
“Ah, yes, I had forgotten.”
Like hell. Bastian was fishing for information, which actually made Andreas feel better. If Bastian didn’t know where Arianna was, then Porbius might not either. He sighed and shrugged at Daron.
“Perhaps Porbius is merely delayed.” Daron gestured toward the table. “Shall we talk while we wait? I would be interested in hearing if the council has made a decision regarding the proposed alliance.”
Bastian sat and stretched back in his chair, outwardly composed. “Certainly they have. The answer is no. Has Andreas told you I made him another offer?”
“He mentioned it.”
“I bet he did.” Bastian laughed. His gaze flitted to Andreas. “I suppose that means your answer is also no.”
“It is. So why don’t you tell us what you came to say and we can go from there?”
Bastian continued to feign his usual indifference and boredom. “You mean the part where you have been declared an enemy of the elders’ council, your court is up for grabs, and there is a hefty price on your head? I assumed you knew all that.”
“I did.” Andreas’s smile was just as manufactured as Bastian’s nonchalance. “But it is always good to clear the air. Are you the one sent to enforce this mandate?”
“I was. Porbius and I.”
“I am flattered the council thought it would take two of you.”
“We like to be sure of things.” Bastian’s smile revealed a bit of fang. “Actually, I volunteered. Porbius had requested that Lucris accompany him, but I convinced the court I would be a better choice. Luc can be intractable.” Bastian turned up his palm in a careless gesture. “He knows only one way to settle a conflict, and I had hoped your death would not be necessary.”
Andreas glanced at Daron. He’d dropped out of the conversation and had been studying his sire during this exchange. Had he seen anything? Bastian didn’t revealed much, but the flicker of an eye, the shadow of a frown, might mean something to Daron. Andreas raised a brow in his direction.
Daron picked up the cue by throwing down a verbal gauntlet. “Do I perceive trouble within the elders’ court? Your distrust of Porbius is blatant, and your own business seems contrary to the council’s. A parting of the ways, perhaps?”
Bastian’s laugh dripped with scorn. “You have given in to your delusions. The council has stood fast for two thousand years and more. We are not the most amiable group, but nothing can divide us to the extent you hope.” He shifted in his chair to spear Andreas with a black look. “If I am concerned about Porbius, it is because he has a tendency to be impulsive, to create situations that others have to fix. As you will see, it is nothing I cannot handle.” His eyes narrowed to slits, his pupils darkened, and he seemed to take in a long breath. A call to power.
Andreas’s muscles tensed. Bastian was attempting to wrap his energy around him for some kind of power play. Would the iron shield hold?
The surge of power never materialized.
Bastian leapt to his feet, his eyes scanning the walls and ceiling. “What is this? What have you done?”
Mike stepped forward, the rifle aimed at Bastian’s chest. “Sit down.”
Daron gave a grim look. “Iron shielding. Vampiric powers will not work in here. This is why we brought security.”
“You honestly believe you can hold me captive?” Astonishment rippled in Bastian’s voice. “You must have more of me in you than I thought. But what do you hope to accomplish?”
“Staying alive would be my first goal,” Andreas said, drawing Bastian’s attention. “Beyond that? I don’t believe we have decided on your fate.”
Daron chuckled. “Sit down, Bastian. It is time we talked as honestly as three master vampires can manage. We do not want war with the O-Seven, but we will not run from it. Your council has made many enemies. We won’t have trouble finding allies, here or in Europe, if we need them.”
A loud pounding on the door interrupted them. Andreas shot to his feet. Was it news of Arianna? He strode toward the door.
Mike moved next to Bastian. The moment the door opened, the iron shielding would be breached, returning Bastian’s powers until the door closed again. The werewolf trained his rifle on Bastian’s head. “If you even twitch, I’ll open fire.
Bastian sat back and smirked at them.
Andreas yanked open the door.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Blackness. What was wrong? Instead of the instant transfer through the vortex that she’d experienced before, Ari was surrounded by darkness, broken only by infrequent swirls of gray. She flailed her arms. Her heart pounded with rising fear. She gulped down two long breaths, forcing her body to remain still. She needed a clear head, not panic. Where had the spell gone wrong?
It came to her in a flash. The Valvano ring. Its magic would have changed the essence of her, and added a variable they hadn’t planned on for her return. Her mind whirled, her instincts kicking into survival mode. It would be impossible to figure out the proper coordinates, and even if she could, how would she input them? The spell had been invoked. It’s not as if it she could recall it and start over.
Placing her free hand on her magic pouch, she thought about the items inside—spell capsules, potion vials, amulets. Nothing that would cure this crisis. She reached out with her magical senses hoping for a spark of light or sound or smell to guide her. She could feel things were out there, beyond the darkness and the swirls. Beyond this hellish limbo.
She stretched her magical threads far beyond anything she’d attempted before, traversing what? Distance? Time? Dimensions?
A far away echo. Her head came up, an
d she peered into the dark void. She sensed more than saw a pinprick of magical energy—calling to her. Her heart beat a little faster. It had to be her link with Andreas. Then she lost her tenuous hold with that tiny spark. She closed her eyes and tried again, focusing on the direction of origin, but the swirling miasma around her was all the same. No beginning, no end, no path in the darkness.
Her shoulders sagged.
What if? She pulled up the old-fashioned travel bag she’d been clutching in one hand and dug through its contents. Maybe the Valvano magic, the source of her dilemma, could help her get out of it. She slipped the ring on the middle finger of her right hand, closed her fist tightly so she wouldn’t drop it, and sent her magic out again. If she could pick up that small echo that led to Andreas, the ring would recognize its master and be drawn toward him. Could the two magics working together get her home?
She drifted without contact for minutes or hours. Time was immeasurable. Numbness invaded the edges of her mind from the tremendous outpouring of energy used in her search. Clouds of vague nothingness floated around her body, at first cocooning her, then dissolving her essence, lulling her into forgetfulness. Meaninglessness.
A small tug, then a sharp jerk brought her alert as the magics connected with a distant source. Had she actually moved? It was hard to tell, but she felt the pull of an invisible force. Her breath quickened. Yes, she was moving toward something. Slowly at first, then the darkness fled by faster and faster…and faster still.
A loud whoosh.
She fell on a hard rock surface and the wind left her lungs in a rush. She used her hands to push herself upward—and looked into the concerned face of Oliver, Andreas’s third-in-command.
“You’re late,” he said.
Ari began to laugh, the moment almost erupting into hysteria, then she stopped abruptly. “What’s happened to Andreas? Oliver, there’s no link!”
The vampire caught her arm. “He’s fine. I should have started with that. It must be eight o’clock, and he’s gone behind iron-shielded walls.”
