by River Ramsey
Weeks pass, then months, all at once in a rush. And then Christopher takes his hand away from my forehead and the vision comes to a screeching halt, dissipating from my eyes like receding water.
“That was crazy,” I breathe. “I had no idea you could do that.”
“How did it feel to be me?” he grins. “Strong?”
“Yes. Very,” I laugh, my head still spinning. I kiss his soft lips. “Tried not to think too much about how it felt to be a guy, though. That was, um, a little weird.”
He just keeps grinning. “What did you think of my teacher?”
“I’ve never seen anything like that in my life.”
“See why I couldn’t describe him to you?”
“Definitely.” I snuggle a bit closer to him, content to stay in bed so I don’t have to face the day just yet. I know I should be more affected by the vision—by the fact that there’s a magic wolf tree out there—but my fears for the safety of James and Mace are quickly drowning out all my other thoughts.
“You’re worried about them,” Christopher says knowingly, stroking my hair.
“How could I not be?”
He kisses the top of my head gently. “They’ll be back. It’ll be fine. You’ll see.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“I have faith in you,” he says with a shrug. “Maybe it’s time for you to have a little faith in us.”
Twenty-Four
It’s been a week since Christopher let me see the Ellri through his eyes, and I’ve been having nightmares ever since. I can only assume he must’ve unhinged something in my mind when he gave me that vision. Usually, the nightmares are about something happening to someone I love. Often my brother, but sometimes it’s one of my mates. Or it’s a reimagining of the battle at the wedding reception, only instead of vampires, the attackers are literal demons.
I haven’t told Christopher, even though he might be able to help. I don’t want him to blame himself or worry. I’m probably shooting myself in the foot by keeping it to myself, but it’s worth it to me. For now, at least.
I worry constantly about James, and he’s present in many of my fitful dreams. I get the sense he’s safe—I believe because we’re connected through the life growing inside me—but I have no idea where he is or what he’s doing. I only know he’s alive. All I can do is hope Mace gets to him in time.
I’ve been lying awake for hours, afraid to fall asleep in case I dream again. I carefully slip out of bed, since both Christopher and Rowan are asleep. I’m sure they’ll both be irritated when they realize they’ve curled up together in their sleep, and I almost hope I don’t miss it.
Pulling on my robe, I head down the hall and settle in on the settee where I usually spend my early mornings reading if I can’t get back to sleep.
I plan on reading, but it doesn’t take long before I drift off in the more comfortable position. It figures sleep only comes when I’ve given up on it.
When I open my eyes, I find myself face to face with... me.
I blink a few times, trying to displace what has to be a hallucination, but I can’t. I can’t feel my body—or rather, the astral form that’s separated from it somehow—but I’m keenly aware of floating above on the ceiling.
I can see myself, asleep and curled up on the sofa. All of a sudden, my body moves in my sleep and no attempt to return to it will work.
The air around me seems to hum as the darkness closes in, creeping in from the edges of my vision until it’s as if I’m looking at my body through a pinhole. I watch myself climb off the settee and walk slowly in a straight line toward the window. I pull it open and the wind blows through my hair, then my fur as I shift into my wolf.
I try to cry out to myself to stop when I realize I’m about to leap out the window, but I’m voiceless. Helpless. I can only watch in horror as my wolf hops onto the windowsill, teeters for a moment, then drops.
Pain shoots up from all four paws and racks my body even as my spirit floats overhead, but the pain is brief. Somehow, it seems I landed unscathed save for a scrape on a paw pad.
I continue to walk forward like a zombie, heading for the thick forest that surrounds the castle and forms our territory line with the vampire kingdom. Every time I blink, time jumps ahead and I’m deeper into the woods, shadows whispering all around me like devils. I have no doubt they’ve sensed my spirit has abandoned my body and that it’s there for the taking. I’ve heard frightening tales of sleepwalkers being taken by lost or malevolent spirits.
I finally stop when I’m so deep into the forest that I have no idea where I am. As the murmuring shadows creep closer to my wolf, shadows that I know in my gut will possess my detached husk if they get the chance, my straining spirit is finally able to return to my body in a rush of light. The shadows withdraw, hissing, as my vision clears and I take a few long, shaky breaths to recenter myself. The air around me ceases its humming and throbbing, and soon, all I hear is crickets chirping in the bushes around me. My body feels numb, like I’m not fully inside it yet. I can’t feel my paws at all, and I certainly can’t shift back into my human form. I’m not nearly grounded enough.
I have a bad feeling I wasn’t just dreaming, but astral traveling. Astral traveling is forbidden. Dangerous. But it doesn’t matter anymore. I’m back in my body, and what matters is getting home. I can tell from the unfamiliar scents in the air that I’m not only far from the castle, I’m no longer in my kingdom.
In fact, the one scent that stands out from all the rest—the loamy mushrooms, the crisp leaves, the minty pines—is the sharp, metallic stench of blood.
I’m in vampire territory, or at the very least, close to it.
The soft yellow glow of a swinging light up ahead, partially obscured by the trees, catches my eye. As it comes into view, I can make out the vague shape of a lantern and a hunched humanoid shadow behind it, suspending it by a stick. Whoever it is is dragging something behind them, and my mind immediately jumps to the most terrible of conclusions.
I turn and flee, but I don’t make it far before my numb paws catch on a root and send me tumbling head-over-heels into the thorny underbrush with an involuntary yelp. My rear right paw throbs with pain as I struggle to get back to my feet, pinned down by the thorns digging into my fur and flesh. The natural trap holds me hopelessly tight as the swinging lantern draws closer.
“A wolf?” an old lady’s voice creaks above me. An aged face with a thin, quivering smile comes into the light. Her sharp fangs protrude over her painted lower lip and I shrink back as far into the bushes as I can get.
She reaches for the thorns with her free hand and pushes them back with her arm, providing a way for me to escape, but I’m too terrified to move.
“Poor thing,” she tsks, crouching so she can grab my scruff. My immediate instinct is to bite her and I curl my lips back, baring my teeth, but when she takes my fur in her hand and gently pulls me free from the thorns, I let her help. She shines her lantern up and down my scratched body, examining me, and pauses when she notices my injured paw.
“That looks painful,” she says. “I can help if you’ll stop your growling. And no biting!”
I doubtfully stifle the rumbling in my throat and stare up at her with my ears flat and tail tucked as she pulls me toward whatever it was she was dragging behind her. It’s not a body at all, but a wooden sled loaded with herbs of all kinds. So she’s not just a vampire, she’s a witch, too. That explains why I can’t will myself to flee even as she shakily lifts me onto the bed of herbs piled on the sled. At least she doesn’t seem to mean any harm.
She takes the rope attached to the sled in her hand and begins to pull it with surprising strength. She hums and sings as we travel through the forest, and before long, the soft croon of her voice lulls me back to sleep.
Twenty-Five
I’m running through the forest as a wolf again, but this time, I’m not me. Not at all. Like my vision of Christopher and the Ellri, I’m in someone else’s body.
> It takes me a moment to figure out who I am because it’s not a wolf I’ve seen often. I can only tell from the sight of the long, powerful forelegs running in front of me that the wolf is solid white. Then the wolf’s masculine scent becomes clearer.
James.
He’s not just near the vampire kingdom, he’s solidly in its territory. I can tell from the stench of blood, sharpened a million times over by the hybrid’s sensitive nose. And I can feel his increased strength and speed, his adrenaline, his hopes, his fears—I can see his thoughts as if they’re my own. I can see the castle in his mind’s eye. No—not just the castle. The vampire King on his throne.
He’s going to kill the King.
Before I can react, I’m torn out of that vision and thrown into another. I’m human this time, staring out of eyes that are far taller than me. It’s practically like being on stilts.
I’m Rowan this time, and I’m searching everywhere for me, panicking as it sets in that I’m gone.
The fear is so intense that I wake with a start, panting. I find myself in front of a crackling fireplace on a musty sheepskin. I’m in what appears to be a tiny cabin with sparse furniture, and herbs and trinkets covering every surface. There are even dried herbs hanging from the ceiling. There are bones, too, strung up like wind chimes, skulls and all, grisly mobiles made of the remains of rats and birds and hares and all kinds of other small animals. The cabin smells not of death, though, but of earth and perfume.
“You’re awake,” the old lady says from her rocking chair. Her white hair is pulled back into a bun adorned with a holly branch. The sleek brown tabby cat in her lap scowls at me, tail lashing. “I bandaged your poor leg.”
I glance back at my leg, and sure enough, it’s wrapped in white cloth stuffed with more herbs. It hurts, but I’m too distressed by my visions to care. James doesn’t stand a chance on his own. I have to get to him. But what use am I if I’m injured? How am I even supposed to get there if I can’t walk? All I can do is hope I heal, and fast. If I can catch up to him somehow, I might be able to talk him out of his crazy idea.
No, crazy is an understatement. Insane idea.
“What were you doing out here, anyway?” the lady asks. “This isn’t shifter territory.”
I look back to her, surprised she could tell I’m not a normal wolf. Must be my scent.
“You must have a good reason,” she goes on. “Love, perhaps? Only love would cause a shifter to stray this far into the vampire kingdom.”
Maybe she’s right. Maybe my subconscious mind knew I had to follow James and that’s why I sleepwalked.
I watch her cautiously as she stands from her chair, placing her angry cat on the end table. She picks up a comb and approaches me slowly, holding it out for me to inspect like I’m a feral animal that needs to sniff it first. When she seems satisfied I’m not going to bite her, she sits cross-legged beside me and begins to gently comb the thorns out of my fur.
“You must be wondering why I’m so old,” she says with a soft chuckle. “Since vampires aren’t supposed to age. I’m sure an elderly vampire is a frightfully unique sight.”
The comb catches on a burr and I wince as she deftly tugs it free and tosses it into the fire.
“It’s the magic,” she explains with a wink. “I did it deliberately, for love. It’s an old spell that’s rarely used. I fancy myself something of a scientist. I experiment with spells most witches—even mages—are afraid to touch.”
I can’t help but tilt my head as I listen to her and she laughs again, patting my head affectionately. “There’s all kinds of old magic that no one practices anymore. Blood substitution, for one thing. Back when I was a girl, before mages were made illegal—and this was many years ago, mind you—they were working on a spell to make it possible for vampires to not have to feed as often. Do you have any idea how much it would rock the vampire world if that spell became known? If it became legal?” She smiles wide, and I realize the only teeth left in her head are her fangs. “We wouldn’t have to keep human slaves anymore. They could all go free and donors would be more than enough to sustain us. The others would hate that—they enjoy subjugating other creatures.”
I listen carefully, my interest piqued. Destiny must have led me here. If there’s any chance there’s a spell floating around out there that can help vampires feed less, I have to know more about it. But I can’t shift back and betray myself as the Princess, either. The old lady might be kind now, but that could all change if she realizes who I am.
“And, yes, my dear, I do care about humans,” she adds. “When I said I aged myself for love, I wasn’t pulling your leg. I fell for a mortal, and I didn’t want to stay young forever as he grew old and died. I wanted to grow old alongside him. And so I did.”
She finishes combing out my fur and stands, her knobby legs quaking under her weight even though she can’t be more than ninety pounds soaking wet.
“My husband was a mage,” she says. “He was working on that spell himself. When the vampires and shifters outlawed mages, he was killed by my own kind. That’s why I brought you here—I have very little loyalty to them. They’d kill a poor little she-wolf like you on sight, pregnant or not.”
She sighs. “Listen to me rambling. I suppose I shouldn’t keep you. I just get lonely sometimes when it’s just me and Tabs here.” She nods to the cat. “It was nice to have company, even if it’s company that doesn’t speak.”
She hobbles across the room and opens the door, gesturing toward the forest outside with a soft smile. I stand from my wooly bed and take a tentative step forward, surprised she’s letting me go. I don’t know why I assumed she wouldn’t. Maybe I have some prejudices to work out.
“Your leg should be better enough that you can walk, and before long, you’ll be able to run. May the wind carry you far and may you reunite with whomever it is that’s so important to you, Princess.”
I freeze, staring at her, and she laughs. “I knew you were coming. The tea leaves told me so. Don’t be afraid—I’m not your enemy. I’m much too old for enemies. I would have informed you I knew of your identity before, but I didn’t want to panic you. I wanted you to listen about that spell. You actually have the power to use it. The power to change the world.”
I limp past her warily, still guiltily convinced she might grab me. When she only steps aside to give me more space, I break into a brisk trot with my hurt leg tucked close to my body and only stop when I’m at the treeline. I glance back to see the witch waving goodbye to me before I disappear into the shadows in pursuit of James.
Twenty-Six
The old witch was right. Before long, I can run, but that doesn't keep me from exhaustion. Even in my wolf form, the journey deep into the heart of the vampire kingdom is a difficult one.
I’m running on instinct alone, but it’s never led me astray before. I’ve come to accept that where James and the others are concerned, instinct is far more reliable than logic or reason.
If it wasn’t, none of us would be together.
By the time night falls, I’m close to giving up. Then, I spot it. Smoke billowing up in the distance. A flickering sign promising vacancies.
I don’t know how I know it, but I know James is there. I’ve finally found him, and hope gives me the burst of energy I need to quicken my pace.
All too soon, I realize I’m not alone. The sound of footsteps surrounding me makes me pause, but before I can decide which way to go, a rope falls over my head and yanks me onto my side.
“Got her!” a man’s voice bellows victoriously. Before long, I’m surrounded.
Vampires. All of them. My heart races as I get to my feet and try to pull out from under the lasso, but the harder I pull, the more it tightens around my neck.
“A shifter,” the closest one muses, his light eyes glinting with malice in the moonlight as he steps closer. I snarl at him in warning and snap at his hand when he reaches too close.
“Feisty, huh?” he taunts, backhanding my muzzle. With a
startled yelp, I cringe away from him.
“We know what you are,” the one next to him growls. “Why don’t you be a good mutt and shift so we can find out what you’re doing here, huh?”
I shiver, not just because of the chilled night air. If I shift now, there’s a chance they’ll recognize me as the Princess, and while I’m sure they’ll spare my life if only to ransom me, they’ll probably be much hastier about carrying me off somewhere. Further away from James.
I glance forlornly at the inn in the distance as they close in around me. Did I really make it this far just to be stopped by a bunch of vampire creeps?
If I wasn’t pregnant, I’d be ready to fight, but right now, all I can think about is how to get away. I’m still puzzling it out when a shadow swoops in and takes one of the vampires off his feet with a snarl.
I know that snarl and my heart fills with relief. James!
He’s wearing a hooded brown cloak, and I can’t see his face, but I know his energy all the same. The fallen vampire cries out in alarm, but James tears out his throat with ease. The next one is down before he can draw his gun and the other two fall just as easily.
By the time they’re all on the ground, James’ cloak is covered in blood. My nervous wolf feels fear for a fraction of a second, but I relax when he pulls the hood down and I’m left staring into his gentle, familiar eyes.
“Dani,” he growls. “What the hell are you doing out here?”
I shift immediately, falling into his arms. It’s freezing and I’m buck naked, but he wraps me in his cloak and as cold as his skin is, just touching him fills me with warmth.
“I had to find you,” I murmur, holding his gaze. “I saw what you’re planning in a vision. You can’t kill the vampire King, James. You can’t.”