by Nicole Marsh
Her scent hits my nose on the next step and its one I recognize. With a growl, I leap over the tiny human and place myself between her and the approaching figure. My wolf instincts finally quiet down, and I realize this was where I was supposed to be.
A growl rips from my throat and my hackles rise, but the approaching figure doesn’t cease progressing forward. The rest of my pack breaks through the trees behind me and fans out forming a half-circle, two on the left and one on the right, facing the approaching human.
“Vlad?” a small voice whispers from behind me.
Immediately after the word is spoken, a small hand tentatively strokes down the fur on the side of my leg. The touch triggers something inside, and my whole body begins to ripple with pain. My front legs bend and bones begin to snap and break and rearrange. I can feel my fur receding into my body and my shape changing in size and stature.
In seconds, I’m standing on the ground on two feet. The agony of my shift quickly fades and the wolf instincts that drove me to ignore my surroundings and head here, recede. It feels awkward to stand on two feet again and I’m a little confused on how or why I’m here. I turn back to the woods behind me, knowing my pack will protect me against any threats.
The first thing to register in my brain is the damp soil, squishing beneath my toes. The next is a hank of long, blonde hair and a tiny female. “Mira?” I ask, tentatively, kneeling to take a closer look. She shrinks away slightly looking injured and concern fills me immediately.
Mira is on her knees, one hand planted against the ground and the other held against her left side. Her face is pointed downwards, but her gray eyes rise up to meet mine. “Vlad?” She gasps out, a bit louder than before. Her voice sounds pained when she asks, “How are there two of you? And why are you naked?”
“Two of me?” I ask back, then twirl around to look at the figure I had been watching before my shift.
From my wolf eyes, the features looked vaguely familiar, but with the difference in color and perspective almost all humans are unrecognizable by sight. We rely on smell to tell who we know. Now that I’ve shifted, I realize I’m staring at… me.
“Who are you?” I call out, my voice low and angry.
The imposter’s eyes widen in surprise and he stops advancing. “Why I’m Vladimir Mort. And you are…?” The words that leave the imposter’s body are spoken growly and low, mocking me with his words, but unable to replicate the sound of my voice.
I look to my right at the golden colored wolf from my pack and shift my head to the side. A silent signal asking him to cover Mira for me. As the wolf moves into position, I stride across what I now recognize as my parent’s backyard. Stopping once I reach the imposter.
He swipes out with his leg, hoping to take me by surprise and get the upper hand. I jump quickly into the air, relying on my wolf reflexes to help me fight against myself. Throwing out my right hand, I attempt to jab the imposter in the throat, but I miss as he ducks. His next hit glances my rib cage and steals my breath. I don’t have time to baby the small injury. Instead, I kick out with my left leg, aiming for the imposters knee.
By some chance of fate, I’m able to strike him. He takes a step back to take weight off his injury and somehow loses his balance. Advancing forward, I grab him by the throat and push him up against the side of the house before he has a chance to recover. Moving my second hand to his throat, I tighten my grip. I watch as his eyes begin to bulge and he starts to struggle more urgently for breath with both his limbs and lungs.
“I’m going to put you down. But if you try anything, I will let these wolves tear you apart,” I warn.
The second my hands release the throat of the imposter; he hits the ground heavily and sinks to his knees. I allow him to take three, deep, gulping breaths before I repeat my earlier question, “I’m going to ask you one more time: Who are you?”
Still struggling for air, the imposter smirks up at me from the ground. He puts his hand into the pocket of the shorts he’s wearing and pulls out a vial of cloudy, gray colored liquid. His eyes meet mine intensely, and I take a step back worried he’s going to douse me in whatever he’s brought with him.
A laugh trickles from the imposter’s throat. It’s an odd experience to see my double, then hear a sound so different from my own laugh leave its body. With another smirk, the imposter guzzles down the contents of the vial, in one go.
As the last drop of liquid leaves the vial, a bright light flashes out. I avert my gaze to avoid it. When my eyes move back to the spot that held the imposter, a lanky, blonde-haired guy that I’ve never seen before is there instead.
Before I’m able to ask ‘who are you?’ for the third time, Mira’s voice carries across the clearing. “Leif?” She asks, incredulously.
I turn around and see she’s now standing, one hand gripped tightly around her ribs and the other grasping the fur of the golden wolf from my pack. My eyes scan her form, and assess. In the drama with the imposter I had forgotten she had been hurt before I arrived. She looks as if she’s in pain, but not so much that she can’t wait a few minutes before medical attention. Her expression is angry and she looks like she wants to sort out this mess as much as I do.
Facing forward again, I see an apologetic look flash in this Leif guy’s eyes, before he hurries to explain in a pleading tone. He rises to his feet with his hands clasped before him. “It was just supposed to be a harmless prank, mostly. It did get a little out of hand…” Mira makes a scoffing noise from behind me and Leif steps to the left, trying to meet her gaze. I immediately step in front of him once more, at the same time a chorus of growls erupts from behind me. Leif isn’t done with his pseudo-apology apparently and continues on. “And I thought maybe I could convince you to leave if you didn’t-“
“You need to leave.” Mira’s voice is firm as she interrupts Leif’s explanation. I half turn to face her and see her eyes are hard as she looks at the guy standing before me.
“Mira Love.” He says her name like it’s a prayer. I can tell without even looking at him that this guy is in love with my girl. He starts again, “Nothing can come of this. Even if your coven knows of the shifters, they would never be okay with a marriage between the two of you. You’re a legacy, I’m a legacy. We make sense. If you end up with this guy,” he cuts himself off to make a harsh gesture at me. “If you end up with this guy, your children won’t even be witches. His genes will be dominant. Is that what you want?”
The imposter’s words hit me hard. Mira and I can’t have witch children? Children aren’t even a thought that’s crossed my mind, we’ve barely even begun dating, but that seems like something that would be important to Mira.
I watch as she begins to take a few strained steps forward, gripping onto the golden wolf for support, as he slowly matches each of her steps.
Resigned, I think this is it. He got her with his talk of bloodlines and legacies. Although I only understood half of what he was talking about, I caught enough to realize he can give Mira things that I can’t. My shoulders slump as I watch Mira approach us. As she nears, I take a step back and to the side, opening the path for her to reach Leif.
To my surprise, Mira angles her body back towards me. The second I realize her path is bringing her towards me; I stride the rest of the way across the yard to meet her. She lets go of the golden wolf to take the last step in my direction and I gingerly wrap my arm around her waist, gently pulling her into my side.
A sigh of contentment fights to escape, but I stifle it, waiting to see what Mira worked so hard to come over here to say. I turn us to fully face Leif.
Mira squares her shoulders, brushing up against me in the process. I glance down in time to see her lift her chin in a haughty manner, to stare down a man over a foot taller than her. “Leif,” she begins. “I will never move to your coven with you. I’m sorry that the other two times I’ve said that have not been clear to you, but I am telling you again, for the last time, my place is here. In Florence. Please leave, I don’t wa
nt to spend any more time in your presence.”
I watch the imposter deflate a bit at her harsh words, while internally cheering on my girl. Mira is strong and capable, and there’s nothing like watching her stand up for herself against someone that wishes to mistreat her.
Leif dips his head without meeting either of our eyes. “Goodbye, Mira Love. For what it’s worth, I am sorry. To both of you.”
With that he turns away and walks around the side of my parent’s house. I watch his departure until I feel Mira sag against me. My head whips to the side and I realize that she’s fainted.
Scooping her up into both arms, I wave away the concern of the golden wolf that’s been hovering nearby. He’s been running with me for weeks, keeping an eye on me and the other two wolves of our pack. But before then, I honestly don’t recall ever seeing him with the pack.
The wolf hesitantly gravitates towards the woods as I feel around the doorframe of my parent’s house for the hide-a-key. Unlocking the door, I head inside to get Mira to a bed and call someone to check if she’s going to be okay. When I move to close the door, I see the golden wolf just beyond the tree line, sitting on his haunches, watching the house.
17
The Recovery
Mirabella
I wake up on a comfortable surface under a swath of blankets with something cool pressed against my side. Forcing my eyes to focus, I see a simple room with few furnishings. My eyes slide across the surfaces and happiness settles deep into my bones when I recognize Vlad’s belongings. Inhaling deeply, the ocean and pine scent that represents Vlad teases my nostrils. He’s home.
The real Vlad is home. And I’m at his house.
The door to the bedroom slowly slides inward and I look over to see who’s coming in. Vlad’s dark hair and broad shoulders come into view and a swarm of butterflies take flight in my stomach. His amber gaze connects with mine and an intense sizzling connection begins burning between us.
“Vlad,” I whisper. Seeing him now, fully clothed, brings back a few memories of seeing him after his shift. He was completely naked, and the thought heats my cheeks instantly.
He tosses something onto the nightstand and clambers into the bed with me. He lays down on his side and gathers me up, blankets and all, gently pulling me into him. I let out a small hiss when the motion caused a brief twinge in my ribs.
“Shit, are you okay Mira?” He asks. Pulling away to stare down at me. His warm amber gaze scans down my body as if his eyes can identify exactly where I hurt through the blankets.
“I’m okay,” I reassure him. “It was just a small twinge, but I’m already feeling much better than before.”
A sheepish look steals over Vlad’s face. “I called your grandmother and told her what happened… she brought over a vial of something that she said would help you to heal quicker.”
I let out a groan. “How long have I been out?”
“A few hours…” Vlad replies, leaving it as an open-ended statement.
Sighing, I ask, “How many of them are out there?”
Vlad laughs. “Your parents, my parents, your grandmother, Sylvia, and Marc.”
“And Marc?” I question, surprised he’s included in my group of family and friends that rushed over at the news of me being injured. Then again, maybe I shouldn’t be that surprised. Thinking back on it, Marc has always come through with advice and assistance. Whenever I’ve needed it, even if I haven’t asked.
“Yeah, I was kind of surprised too.” Vlad agrees.
I release another heartfelt sigh, “Well should we go out there and get it over with.” Instead of immediately replying, Vlad hesitates. “What’s wrong?” I ask, concerned.
Vlad leans in, his forehead touching mine and our gazes locking intimately. I can see heat tamped down in his, as our eyes stare into each other. “Would it be okay if I kissed you?” He asks. Our faces are so close, his lips practically graze mine as he speaks.
I tip my face up, closing the last bit of distance to press my lips gently against his. The movement was the invitation he was waiting for. Vlad’s hands snake up my body to capture my cheek and neck. He uses the leverage to move my head and take control of the kiss.
Unlike Leif-pretending-to-be-Vlad, Vlad doesn’t pressure me to take the kiss further. He kisses my mouth gently, then each of my cheeks, his lips finally landing on my forehead. We stay that way for a few beats, his warm lips pressed against my smooth skin.
When he returns to my lips, they fall open of their own volition and he sweeps his tongue across the inside of my mouth in a deep, claiming kiss. He explores my mouth with his tongue and teeth and I moan into him, the noise causing his muscular arms to tighten around me.
We eventually pull apart and Vlad rests his forehead against mine again. Both of us are breathing deeply, our eyes locked with unspoken words pinging between us. He finally pulls his head away, with a reluctant look on his face.
“Vlad,” I start softly, not wanting to ruin our reunion, but needing answers all the same.
He sighs deeply, then nods his head. “I know what you’re going to ask… and we have a lot to talk about.” He pauses and lets out another sigh. “But I think we should go see your family first. Everyone is pretty worried about you.”
“Okay,” I nod. As much as I want answers, Vlad’s right. We need to reassure my family that I’m okay before we can talk over everything that’s happened in our time apart. “Just promise me we can talk after my family leaves.”
“I promise,” Vlad swears. He runs his nose up the side of my neck and takes a deep inhale before sitting up completely. Giving me the space, I need to wriggle out from underneath the blankets.
I grimace, already imagining how my mom is going to react when I leave this room. Staying here any longer won’t make it better though. “Let’s get this over with then.”
Three hours and at least one-hundred and fifty reassurances to my mom later, my family and Sylvia agree to leave. Sylvia is the last one to trickle out. She stops in the door frame and turns to me one last time. “Call me tomorrow, okay?” She says before pulling me into a tight hug.
“Promise,” I reply.
She nods and I watch as she walks down the sidewalk and gets into her car. I give one last wave as her she peels away from the curb. I close the door, then turn to face the small group left behind me.
“I’m going to start dinner,” Tricia says. She hugs me one more time, giving another one of her signature tight squeezes, then whisks away in a wave of dark hair and sweet perfume. Her departure leaves Bart, Marc, Vlad, and I standing in an awkward cluster in the living room. Mr. Mort’s eyes connect with mine a half-second before Tricia calls out from the kitchen, “Bart, can you come help me?”
“Of course, Dear.” He replies in his deep voice. His gaze slides across the three of us before he dips his head and follows Tricia’s path into the kitchen.
“Sooo,” Marc says, elongating the word as he rocks back onto his heels.
“Why are you here?” Vlad asks, none too kindly.
“I want to know what happened… I’ve been worried about you. And about Mira.” Marc replies, ignoring Vlad’s vicious tone. “I might be able to help, that’s all I want.”
Vlad’s lip curls up, and I step forward placing my hand against his chest. Before I started working at the Daily, Vlad didn’t seem to have any issues with his boss. I don’t want to be the cause of tension between the two of them, but I’m not sure how to resolve the conflicts that always seem to start whenever we’re all together.
“It’s okay Vlad,” I say calmly. “Marc’s family has a lot of knowledge of witching history. I think we should tell him everything that happened. He might be able to shed light on anything we don’t understand.” When Vlad remains tense with a hard look in his eyes, I add on, “He also knows about the shifters. I really think he can help.”
The tension leaves Vlad’s shoulders and he nods. “Alright. You can stay while I tell you what happened, but nothing leaves t
his room.” Vlad wraps his arm around me to guide me to the couch. He sits down and pulls me onto his lap.
Marc eyes the two of us speculatively before perching on the far end of the couch, his body angled so his legs are pointed in our direction. “Where did you go?” He asks, in a curious tone.
I wriggle around trying to get off Vlad’s lap, feeling uncomfortable with the PDA in front of our boss and friend. Vlad firmly places his large hands against my waist, weighting me down in his lap. Resigned to staying in this position, I turn my body to be able to see Vlad’s face. I’m equally as curious to learn his whereabouts over the past few weeks.
Vlad lets out a deep exhale, that I can both hear and feel against my back. “A few weeks ago, when we were at Mira’s grandma’s house, a small pack of wolves were waiting outside including a golden wolf Mira and I had met when we were summoned to the shifter council.” He pauses, looking like he’s thinking about what happened next, but doesn’t continue his story.
I use one finger to prod him in the chest, urging him to continue. I already know this part and want to know what happened next. Before I can pull my finger away, Vlad snatches it and uses the leverage to intertwine his fingers with mine. He looks down at me with a wolfish grin, then continues, “I don’t recall exactly what happened. One second I was standing with Mira, as a human, and the next I was leaping off the porch into a shift. When I hit the ground next, it was with four paws.”
“Where did you go? Did the wolves take you somewhere?” Marc interjects eagerly.
Vlad nods. “When we’re in wolf form, we can communicate with words and images sent to each other telepathically. It’s not the same as being a human where full sentences are used.” He directs these words to me, so I can follow the next portion of his story. “The pack I was running with told me of a spring. They said it was important… I was hoping it was the cure to the curse.”