by Gwen Rivers
I was half fae. I could wait out the storm there? Right?
Kiesha was safe. Liam would see to it. And I could be on my own.
The way I was fated to be.
My hand shook as I reached for the knob, half expecting it to be locked.
It twisted easily in my grip.
Okay, one hurdle down. I swallowed and pushed inward.
The apartment was…perfect. Utterly and completely perfect. Setting my guitar case by the stairs, I strode through the small space. Exposed brick on all walls. The floor looked like ancient oak, scuffed but swept. The furniture was battered, with a patch on the back of the faux leather arm chair and the floral patterned couch looked a little lumpy. But it fit the space.
No refuse, no pulled-out pipes or wires stringing down from rotting beams. No holes in the sheetrock or gaps in the floor. It wasn’t as richly appointed as Liam’s home but it felt…right.
I shut and locked the door and headed into the kitchen. Held my breath and turned on the faucet.
Running water. Mine for the using.
I turned to the wall and flicked a switch. The overhead light sprung to life.
An empty city. Ready to inhabit and not a single dark fae could access while I slept.
I opened a cabinet, spied cobalt blue plates and earthenware mugs along with several glasses. The next one over held food.
I cried out as I spied the cereal, the cans of vegetables, jars of peanut butter and jam. A bag of chips, the ruffled kind.
I couldn’t resist, had to tear into the bag and grab a fistful. Bet you can’t eat just one hundred, Emma.
I could live here, could stay here. Be well fed and rested, fresh for the hunt every single night.
A humming sound caught my attention and I turned to the fridge.
No, it couldn’t be….
Slowly, as if stalking prey, I moved over to the squat beige appliance and pulled open the door.
Fully frigging stocked. I sensed the preservation spell someone had put on it to keep the crisp green lettuce and carrots fresh. Red ripe strawberries, cheeses, deli meat. The sucker had it all.
Real food. Not scrounging for scraps. A rainbow of healthy sustenance.
Giddy, I pulled open the freezer.
Oh no. No way. How long had it been?
My eyes watered as I extracted the precious pint of chocolate fudge ice cream. There were three of them.
Accept the things I cannot change. I cannot change the fact that a werewolf brought me to the pocket realm.
Change the things I can. I didn’t have to stay with Liam, living in his ostentatious house with his peeping sylph. Taking his charity.
The ability to make a difference.
I needed help. When Liam’s coffee bar was ready, I would work in it, even if it cut into my hunting time. Only during the day, when the twisted ones wouldn’t be out. And at night, I could hunt them, figure out a way to kill them and then come back to a place where I wouldn’t have to scrounge for scraps.
I wandered into the tiny bedroom. Ran a hand over the soft mauve and blue duvet. It wasn’t large or ostentatious, like the blue room Liam had put me in. The bathroom didn’t have any marvelous soaking tub, just a shower. But it was exactly what I needed.
They would have to pry me out of this place with a crowbar.
I was halfway through the container of ice cream when someone knocked on the door. I peeked out the curtains to see a pissed-off werewolf on the steps.
Uh oh, was I in trouble.
I opened the door and stared down at my visitor. “What are you doing here?”
“Looking for you. North told me you left.” Without waiting for an invitation, Rage pushed her way past me. “What is this place?”
“An empty house set up for the fae.” I shut the door.
“And why are you here?”
This was going to be tricky. “I’m going to live here.”
She scowled up at me. “Why not stay at Liam’s? I thought you said you trusted him.”
“I do. But it’s Liam’s, house, not mine.”
She looked around the place.
I sat in the leather chair and set my ice cream down on an end table. “How did you find me?”
“North trailed you.”
I let out a sigh. Having a sylph was like having a stalker. In many ways worse because I knew who he’d report back to.
Kiesha tilted her head to the side. “Maybe we should just go back to Manhattan. Stay at our place.”
Our place. I swallowed hard. “That’s not our place either, Rage. It belongs to Liam.”
The girl studied me for a long time and I had to fight the urge to squirm. “Are you still going to work there?”
“I have to work somewhere. There aren’t many options in the pocket realm.”
Kiesha plopped down on the couch, wiggling to make herself comfortable. “Okay, I’ll stay here with you.”
I opened my mouth, then shut it again, not knowing what to say to her. “It’s nicer at Liam’s and you won’t be alone. There are other werewolves—”
Her expression turned mutinous. “We stay together.”
And what could I say to that?
I turned and caught a wavering light coming from my guitar case.
“What is that?” Kiesha bolted up, putting herself in front of me.
“I’m not sure.”
She reached for the scuffed metal latches but I gripped her hand. “Be careful, there’s silver in there.”
Different types of magic carried unique scents. Some are strong and overpowering, others are light and inviting. The one emanating from my guitar case was dark, seductive, and dangerous. Like night-blooming flowers coated in blood.
I flipped the lid open. My hand found the handle of the silver dagger and I withdrew it. It blazed with gold and purple light.
My glyphs glowed in response.
“Emma,” Rage’s mismatched eyes were huge.
“It’s some sort of language.”
They whispered to me. The runes on the blade moved in tandem to the ones on my arms. I repeated them out loud.
“Un hatha, de vemos, a diath.” I summon you to take your true form.
It wasn’t Norse, wasn’t any language spoken on this side of the Veil. It was older. And somehow, I knew it.
There was a flash and the blade…grew. Elongating from the small knife into
a sword. The blade seemed to glow with golden light. My lips parted as I saw a reflection in the blade. Not of myself but of someone far older and much more powerful. Her eyes were a storm of power. I smelled ozone, like right before a thunderstorm broke.
“Emma!” Kiesha’s hand on my arm jerked me to full awareness. I dropped the sword and it clattered to the ground.
“What?” I blinked at her.
“I thought you were sick,” The girl sounded scared. “You were lost in that thing for hours.”
“Hours?” I stared out the grimy front window. Sure enough, the streetlights had come on creating pools of light in the otherwise dark night.
Kiesha’s phone buzzed. “It’s Liam. He wants to know when we’ll be home.”
I stared down at the sword on the floor, then to the melted tub of chocolate ice cream. Kiesha would balk if I told her she needed an escort. After all, the werewolf girl had been traversing New York’s streets by herself less than a day ago. What could happen to her in the PR?
Still, I didn’t want her wandering around on her own. Especially with magical swords manifesting from silver daggers. And I owed Liam an explanation. I looked to my guitar case and then snapped the lid shut. After a moment’s hesitation, I retrieved the sword. The feel of it in my hands was oddly unique and somehow right.
“Text him back, tell him we’re on our way.” Maybe he would have some idea of what the hell had just happened.
7
Liam scented Emma and Kiesha the moment they entered the building. So did his wolves. Autumn’s eyes widened. Garret and Jose sniffed the a
ir. A sinister smile played on Rubio’s lips. Liam set his palm down on the conference table to get their attention.
“This isn’t anything we can solve overnight. The fae must spread out on their own.”
“But they’re vulnerable to attack.” This from Fredrick, one of the older wolves who’d been a general in the second world war. “Haven’t you ever heard it’s foolish to put all your eggs in one basket?”
It had been a favorite saying of his mother’s. “I’m not forcing them out. They’ve already been removed from Underhill. The pocket realm is as safe as we can make it from the mortals.”
“What about the twisted ones?” Andy, one of the younger members of his pack asked.
Liam stared at the doorway where he scented Emma’s presence. He rapped once on the conference table, his signal to send North out to take them upstairs to wait. Gods help the sylph if Emma left before he could talk to her.
“I’m working on it. Go down and get changed. We’ll head out soon.”
“Will the new pup be joining us?” Autumn asked.
Liam shook his head. “Next run, we’ll include her.” Kiesha had enough to get used to.
The wolves filed one by one out of the conference room, hung a sharp left and headed for the basement stairs. According to his specifications, the lowest level of the building had a private wolf-activated entryway. The pack could leave their clothing within and return before they bedded down for the night. Though often during the full moon, they decided to revert to wolf form.
Liam waited until they were all clear then headed for the stairs to the third floor, taking the steps three at a time. His heart pounded. Why had Emma left? He’d checked her rooms and her bag was gone. The cell phone had been left behind on the bathroom counter. He knew that had been a deliberate choice.
His beast was restless with their mate elsewhere. He would convince her to stay. Somehow.
He strode out into the hall and then paused. Emma leaned against the doorway of Kiesha’s room, her back to him.
“You really ought to stay here,” Emma was saying. “You can learn so much from Liam. And we can hang out all the time.”
“I do like North,” Kiesha admitted.
“That makes one of us,” Emma murmured in a tone she probably thought was too low for anyone else to hear. Then louder, “How about you come to breakfast tomorrow?”
He closed his eyes as some coil of tension inside him relaxed. His mate was safe. Their werewolf charge, too. He hadn’t realized how essential knowing that was to his peace of mind until they’d both disappeared.
Emma turned and he saw wariness in her gray eyes.
She wasn’t staying.
Make her stay, the wolf insisted.
But Liam knew he couldn’t. She wasn’t a werewolf to obey his commands.
“I’m glad you’re back.” He directed his gaze at Kiesha. “Are you hungry?”
She nodded.
“North?” He called and a moment later, the lace doily on the half-moon table rippled in a phantom breeze.
“Da?” his PA asked.
“Kiesha is hungry. Take her down to the kitchen and fix her anything she wants.”
“Are you coming, Emma?” Kiesha eyeballed her warily.
“You go on. I need to talk to Liam first.”
Liam balled his hands into tight fists so he didn’t reach for her.
“Come, pup. Let us find something delicious to fatten you up.” North parked himself in Kiesha’s sparkly hair tie and used it to propel her to the steps.
“I’m sorry I left without telling you.” Emma said before he could think of a decent way to begin. “After everything you’ve done, it was shitty of me to bail without saying good bye.”
“Is that why you came back?” His heart clenched. “To say goodbye?”
She shook her head, her gaze on the floor. “Well, not really. I want to take up residence in one of the empty apartments.”
Liam’s lip parted. “You do?”
“Technically, I’ve already taken up residence.” She looked at him then and the corner of her mouth kicked up in a rueful smile. “I sort of helped myself to the fridge.”
She could have anything she wanted. All she needed to do was to name it and it would be hers.
Be cautious, his instincts warned. She’s uneasy.
He leaned on the wall opposite her, intentionally keeping his hands loose at his sides. “So how come you’ll stay there but not here?”
She nodded as though she had been considering her answer. “You have a very nice home, Liam. But I don’t belong here. Those apartments? They’re for fae refugees. I suppose that’s technically what I am. Even if I don’t come from Underhill.”
“You don’t.” He said slowly. Her words had to be true. That she was making a gift of even that small part of her story warmed his heart. He’d been inside other women and it didn’t feel as intimate as honesty from Emma.
“No. But I do need a secure place to stay. This place is yours and it’s a good place for Kiesha. Would it be all right if I come to visit her here sometimes?”
He was torn between joy that she would be returning and jealousy that it wouldn’t be to see him. “Come as often as you’d like.”
Behind him, the wallpaper sniggered.
“Out, North,” Liam growled.
“But it was just getting good. Like Russian soap opera.”
“Out!” Liam bellowed.
The wall rattled once and then went still.
Emma tilted her head to him. “Are you all right?”
Yes. No. She was staying nearby, where he could protect her. And yet she wasn’t with him.
“Yeah, I guess so. It’s been a brutal day.”
She didn’t look like she was in a hurry to get away from him. She wasn’t running from him, at least not directly. “How so?”
She wanted to hear about his day? How…novel.
“A new group of fae crossed the Veil this afternoon. And since the attack on the one you saved, all of them have holed up together at the center.”
She nodded. “I was wondering why I didn’t see any signs of life.”
“The PR is supposed to be a halfway house between Underhill and Midgard.” Liam said.
Emma nodded. “That’s the official story.”
“What’s not commonly known is this is supposed to be a place where they can wield magic as well as learn how to cohabitate with mortals. The forever young are stubborn though. I can’t force them to embrace this new life. I think they are just waiting for the all-clear so they can go back under the hill.”
“But you said there’s no more magic there. No industry.”
“Right, so no matter which side of the Veil they are on, they will need the education. But they fear change.”
Her lips twitched. “The courage to change the things I can.”
“What was that?”
“My own version of the Serenity prayer. It’s something I repeat to myself often.”
Liam knew it. His mother had a cross stitch pattern with those words hanging above the door while he was growing up. “Are you religious?”
“Not since I was little.” Her smile turned brittle. “My father was. He used to drag us all to church. The Serenity Prayer is about the only thing that stuck with me.”
Another nugget of information. She’d never mentioned her father before. He studied her face, the changes in her breathing, everything that made her Emma. “Does it serve you to recite that?”
She nodded. “Yes, because if not for the serenity part, I’d just be angry about everything all the time. If not for courage, I’d always be afraid.”
Let me protect you. He wanted to beg, knew that he couldn’t. “And the wisdom?”
“I don’t do wisdom, at least not conventional wisdom. Some of the chances I’ve taken border on stupid.” The corner of her mouth twitched. “I end with the ability to make a difference. Because when my score is tallied, that’s all I really want.”
&
nbsp; Down in the basement, the first wolf let out a howl. Emma jumped and he reached out to steady her.
She searched his face. “Am I keeping you from something?”
“It’s full moon. The pack runs every full moon through Central Park.”
She grinned up at him, a sparkle in her gray eyes. “Like in the old stories?”
“Exactly like that.” A thought froze him in place. When he first considered the run, he’d thought Emma would be tucked safely behind North’s barrier. “There’s not going to be anything to keep unwanted guests from your new apartment.”
She shook her head. “There usually isn’t.”
“I’d send North but I need him to keep Kiesha safe.”
She put a hand on his arm, as though to reassure him. “I’ll be okay, Liam.”
Her skin was warm where she touched him. He wanted to shut his eyes, pull her close and just breathe her in. But he didn’t want to scare her off, not when she was just starting to open up to him.
“Besides, I have this.” She reached inside the doorway and pulled out….
His breath caught. “Where did you get that?” He reached for it, but she pulled it away.
“It’s the dagger you asked me to keep.”
He listened while she relayed what had happened. All the hair on the back of his neck rose when she explained how it had transformed and how she’d been mesmerized by it.
He could feel the power coming off the blade. Power that ran up along Emma’s arm and seemed to settle in the core of her.
His voice was rough as he asked, “Do you know what a spellcaster is?”
Her gaze met his and he saw the recognition of the word register.
“I know I promised not to ask questions but….are you one?”
She nodded once.
No. He closed his eyes, clenched his fists. Felt as though he were being crushed under the weight of an avalanche. Not her. Not her.
But of course it was Emma. Hadn’t he wondered ever since he’d seen her fight back against those mortals? She was a defender of the fae.
“Liam? Are you all right?”
He shook his head. “I need to go. We’ll talk again tomorrow. And please, don’t leave the PR without telling me.”