by Sela Carsen
From upstream, the woods rustled. Something large was making its way toward them, and Rodion stepped in front of her, his shashka drawn and ready. He had practiced fighting left-handed with the sword, and though it wasn’t his strongest side, he was proficient enough.
As far off the trail as they were, he wasn’t expecting anyone to simply wander innocently toward a raging whirlpool.
A beast pushed through the brush, then snorted at them, his nostrils flaring wide.
The big black stallion who shook his head at them wasn’t really a stallion at all. He was a kelpie. Many an unwary traveler had met his end on a kelpie’s back, stuck to the horse by magic until it jumped into the water and drowned its victim. But the dark fae creature had fled the Unseelie court of Scotland, then made his way to Nocturne Falls. Trick had named him Bubba, and the kelpie had made Wolf Creek his home.
Bubba hadn’t dragged anyone to their death since he’d been here, although he’d given a few people quite a scare. And he really, really liked apples.
“Bubba!” Carina took a last big bite out of her apple, then held the rest of it out to the killer fae water horse on a flat palm. He lipped at the fruit, then took it from her gently, crunching it between his big yellow teeth and drooling happily.
Rodion and Bubba had been introduced, but as someone who spent his career making sure dark fae didn’t come to the mortal world, he’d never trusted the big horse.
They side-eyed each other until Rodion held out the remains of his apple, too. The kelpie didn’t bite him, but it blew wetly on his hand before taking the offering.
“Gross.” Rodion wiped his hand on his pants. “I don’t think that thing likes me.”
Carina was crooning to the horse, rubbing his poll and patting him with no fear of becoming stuck. “Nonsense. Bubba’s a total sweetheart, aren’t you, baby?”
“If I got stuck to him, Bubba would very happily dive right into that maelstrom and drown… me…” His voice trailed off, and he and Carina shared a look.
“He can do it,” she said excitedly. “He’s probably one of the few things on earth who could navigate the maelstrom and survive it.”
“This might work.” It might kill him, too, but he didn’t share that with Carina. She wouldn’t let him go if she was afraid for his life, but this was all on him. He’d drawn Nazar to them and he hadn’t gotten her out of the way of the golem. This was an acceptable risk, and with Bubba’s help, he had a better than even chance of surviving.
They led the kelpie to the bank.
“What do you think, Bubba?” she asked the horse. “Can you get through that?”
Bubba tilted his ears forward at the roaring whirlpool and blew out another snort, but didn’t seem afraid or worried.
With a frown, he took Carina’s hand in his. “We’ll be separated. Will you be all right?”
“I’ll be fine.” She smiled at him, a hint of sparkle in her eyes. “I promise. It’s only a couple of minutes, anyway. Down and back, right?”
He nodded, unsure, but she sounded so positive that he let himself be convinced. Rodion took off his sword belt, but kept the knife he had strapped to his ankle. There wasn’t much else to do.
His heart was pounding, but his hands were steady. He was ready to swing onto the horse’s back, but there was one thing he needed to take care of first, in case this didn’t work.
With his good arm, he grabbed Carina by the waist and pulled her in, movie star style. Her eyes widened as their bodies connected, and he soaked in the sudden warmth of having her in his arms. Feeling like Errol Flynn, he braced an arm behind her shoulders and dipped her back, just enough to get her to the perfect angle. Then, with a pirate’s grin, he kissed her.
Like the best of leading ladies, she responded willingly. Her arms clasped around his shoulders, and she responded to his kiss with fervor and passion. That hot sweetness – rich chocolate with a peppery bite – flowed over his tongue and through his body until he loosened his grip.
He set her back solidly on her feet, but they clung a little longer, both unwilling to let go. Finally, she stepped back.
“Come back safe,” she whispered.
He nodded, and put his hand deliberately on the kelpie’s withers. He tried to pull away, but he was stuck fast. There was no turning back.
Rodion mounted with a strong push, and tightened his knees around Bubba’s girth. “Let’s go, boy. We need that key.”
With a splash, the kelpie leapt into the swirling waters of death.
Chapter Six
She was in a dream. Or maybe a movie. One where there were amazing kisses and death-defying feats of bravery. The black horse with streaming main and tail, and the dark-haired man dressed in black were beautiful together, and she worked to focus on the details because this image would appear in her dreams and in her art for the rest of her life. Rodion looked like a cavalry soldier, straight backed and elegant and determined atop a show horse, sleek and proud with an intelligent focus in his gleaming red eyes. They were ready for battle.
The kelpie jumped and they disappeared under the surface leaving no trace in the troubled waters. The mist spewed from the maelstrom was bitter and icy, covering her hair and skin with a cold dampness that seeped into her bones.
The moment they went under, flame erupted on her shoulder. The black poison swirled like the waters of the creek, covering more of her skin in its insidious pattern. She’d known this would happen, but nothing could have prepared her for the pain.
Seconds passed and she could no longer stay on her feet. Carina dropped to her knees. She pulled her arm into her body, but couldn’t touch the marks with her other hand because it was like pouring gasoline on the fire in her flesh.
She wouldn’t scream. She promised herself she wouldn’t make a sound. In her heart, deep inside her magic, she knew that if she made so much as a squeak, Rodion would hear her and return, rather than completing his task.
So she suffered in silence, counting the seconds as they ticked on too slowly for her, but too quickly for him, stuck underwater.
A minute went by.
Thirty seconds more.
Two minutes.
This was taking too long. How long could a man hold his breath? How long until a second of life became an eternity of death?
She wasn’t sure how much longer she could hold in the scream that was building inside her as she watched the marks on her arm grow thicker and longer, like a vine of the most vicious poison ivy in the world.
Carina lost track of the seconds, drowning in her own agony while tears poured down her face.
She was so out of touch with anything but the reality of her pain, she didn’t see or hear Bubba and Rodion clamber back onto the bank of the creek. It wasn’t until she felt his cold, wet hand cover her arm, dousing the fire, that she opened her eyes.
“You’re back. You made it,” she whispered.
“We did.” He pulled her closer and she didn’t mind the wetness that soaked her clothes, or the brush of his hand on her arm. “And with the key.”
He held up the ornate key to show her. It was beautiful. Shining gold with two simple teeth at the bottom, the top was a fantastically delicate knotwork of metal with a thumb-sized cabochon ruby embedded in its center. It was too lovely to be mixed up in this mess of hurt, but she figured that was how things were sometimes. Pretty things covered up the ugly.
Philosophy and pain. She was going to need a towel. And an ibuprofen. And more coffee.
Rodion’s chest heaved with each breath, and she put her hand – the one she could move without flaming swords of agony shooting through it – against him to help calm him. She wouldn’t lie. It soothed her to touch him, too.
“Are you all right?” she asked. “How’s Bubba?”
“We’re fine, but I wouldn’t have made it without him. I thought the tide would rip me right off his back, but when you’re stuck to a kelpie, you’re stuck.” His words were filled with grudging admiration, and Bubba gave hi
m a shove with his nose. “Yeah, yeah. Thank you. I appreciate the help.”
Carina winced and Bubba waited. Thanking a fae, especially an Unseelie fae, came at a cost.
“How about apples for the next two months? Or maybe seaweed. Some of that crunchy dried sushi paper? Trick said you like that.”
Bubba gave a shaking nod of his huge head, splattering water everywhere like a massive wet dog, and the deal was struck.
Rodion put his hand on the kelpie’s forehead to scratch for a moment before Bubba stepped away and trotted back to the creek. Without pausing, he jumped in, downstream of the whirlpool that was slowing back to its usual slow roll, and disappeared under the water.
Carina was shivering and Rodion wrapped her in his arms and led her to sit with him, leaning against the bole of a cottonwood tree to watch the water return to its peaceful flow and let the pain in her arm ebb away.
“I don’t know what you packed in here,” he said, pulling her bag close. “Do you have anything to warm you up?”
Using her good hand, she rummaged around until she touched the edge of a cotton blanket she’d woven years ago when she was just learning. The threads were loose in some places and too tight in others – she’d just been learning how to use the warp and weft – and her vision of the pattern hadn’t exactly come out like she’d planned. It was supposed to have stars on it, but they were more like blobs of uneven color. No matter. It was her first, and as ugly as it was, it was also really soft after so many washings.
She pulled it out, and felt the quiet rumble and puff of air that passed for his laughter. “There’s something really weird about that blanket. And that bag.”
She smiled to herself. It was her favorite secret. Every piece of yarn and fabric she’d woven into the cloth had been soaked for a month – full moon to full moon – in a stretching spell. Essentially, each piece could cover a mile for each inch of length. The work had exhausted her, but it was more than worth the effort it had taken to make the bag. It could hold literally anything she’d ever need, and still look super cute at the same time.
Before they came out today, she had packed a few essentials while Rodion went to cover himself in weapons. She’d put in an extra pair of comfy sneakers and dry socks, her favorite blanket, and a handful of the protection charms she had strewn about her apartment. Then came her favorite bag of runestones, and a small box containing the fragile set of casting bones passed down from a several generations of great-grandmothers. Like Hermione Granger, she stashed a few pertinent spell books in there. Unlike Hermione, she did not pack a tent. She didn’t care how nice it was, or that she’d been raised on a ranch and slept under the wide Western sky too many nights to count. Carina Valdis was not the kind of woman who slept in tents if there was a hotel within fifty miles.
But right now, she needed warmth. With a fierce Russian warrior at her back, she draped the soft cotton blanket over both of them and they dozed in the shade in the heat of the day.
Carina woke disoriented and stiff, laying alone in the grass with the blanket twisted around her waist. When her eyes cleared, she realized she was looking at Rodion’s back.
His naked back.
He had taken off his shirt and she saw it hung over a branch, air drying, while he was hunched over something in his lap. A rhythmic metallic scrape sang through the air.
Carina had taken a few life drawing classes in college, but not one of the models had been built like Rodion Czernovitch. Each muscle was cleanly sculpted, its purpose clear as he shifted and moved, his good arm sweeping out steadily.
A symphony of movement under his skin. A god made flesh. Yet despite his beauty, he wasn’t perfect. Scars marred his back, and from where she sat, she could finally see the one that had brought him to Nocturne Falls.
She'd heard that it was a knife wound, so she'd expected a neat, narrow slash. She was completely unprepared for the wide, gaping silver mark that covered the top of his arm. Nor was she ready for the scar to be so bubbled and uneven, a sign of poor healing.
He must have heard her slight gasp, because he turned and caught her staring at his arm. Defensively, he covered it with his hand.
Carina reached out. “Please don’t. I’m sorry. It was rude of me to stare, but I hadn’t seen it before.”
He stared down at her, his eyes icy cold. “Ugly, isn’t it?”
“Are there pretty scars?”
This time his huff of breath wasn’t quite what she would call a laugh. It was too bitter for that. Time to get his mind off his wound.
“What are you working on?” She got on all fours and crawled the few feet toward him. His eyes flashed from ice to hot blue flame in a blink.
She smiled.
Carina wasn’t dumb. She knew how her prowl affected him, and she laughed, quiet and low and inviting, at his reaction.
When she reached his side, he put aside the blade he was sharpening and pulled her into his lap. “I think I’ll work on you.”
They surfaced for air some time later, her lips swollen and tender, feeling very pleasurably mussed. She reached up to wipe away a smudge of shimmery berry lip gloss, and gave him a satisfied grin.
“That was fun.”
“It was,” he agreed. “We should do it again.”
Something about he way he said it made her tilt her head. He was looking at every part of her face. Staring, actually, like he was trying to memorize her. And she realized there was a difference in his expression. The little line that habitually bisected his eyebrows wasn’t there anymore, or at least it was relaxed. There was no tension in his face. She pressed her thumbs lightly at the base of his neck, and though the muscles were hard, they weren’t locked tight.
So this was what Rodion looked like when he was relaxed and open. She’d never seen him like this before. And she’d been the one who helped make him this way
She sat quietly in his lap, too, with no desire to move. That was something else rare. She’d never been the type to linger over caresses. She was usually too restless, but right now, she didn’t want to move away from his steady gaze, and his hand rubbing circles on her back.
“I don’t want to move,” he murmured. “But we have to. We’re not done, and I’m not going to let Nazar, or anyone, take you away from me.”
She wanted to say “Same,” but emotion welled up and choked her, so she just nodded into his chest.
They gathered up their things and she folded her blanket, stuffing it down into her bag.
“So. Howling winds.” She peered at him through narrowed eyes. “Where in the world are we going to find howling winds?”
Chapter Seven
It was a good question. One they pondered and discussed as they walked back to Daria and Trick’s home. The two were standing on the back porch, arms wrapped around each other, as he and Carina walked up from the creek.
He was glad for Daria. She’d gone through enough with her stalker from years ago, and Trick had been instrumental in making sure his sister was safe. It was only a matter of time before wedding bells rang for the couple, he was sure.
“You look like you went for a swim,” Trick called as they approached.
“It wasn’t fun, but it was necessary. And now I owe Bubba apples and nori for two months.”
“Don’t try to cheap out with Red Delicious. He’ll step on you. He likes Honeycrisps, but Braeburns will do in a pinch. And don’t get the nori chips with sesame oil in them. I bought those once by accident. He ripped the sleeve clean off my jacket. Never touched me, but I miss that coat.”
Rodion’s brow went up. Bubba was pretty picky for a horse. “Good to know. Did you find anything at Katya’s?”
Daria shook her head. “Nothing. She’s still looking, but we were hoping we might catch y’all here.” The breeze was picking up – unseasonably cool for May – and Carina shivered. Rodion stepped to her other side to block the blowing air.
“Come on in,” said Daria. “I’ll make some…” Her voice trailed off as she l
ooked up.
A massive black crow tumbled across the sky, cawing and flapping, trying to right itself as it was pushed in front of a gale force wind.
The bird saw them and angled downward, falling out of the sky until it landed at their feet. Immediately, the crow transformed into a familiar man.
That is to say, a man they knew who was also a witch’s familiar – Pandora’s fiancé, Cole, an advanced math teacher at Harmswood Academy.
“Not cool, you guys!” Cole straightened his glasses, ran fingers through his messy hair, and pulled his shirt down. “Whichever one of you did that, it’s not funny!”
Since they were all staring at the man with uniform expressions of dismay, Rodion spoke up. “The wind? That wasn’t us, Cole. What happened to you?”
“Magic happened,” he griped, not that anyone blamed him. “And not the kind of magic from Pandora or her family.”
Another gust knocked everyone back a step. The sky had turned ominously dark, the eerie gray-green that often heralded tornadoes or hailstorms. But this didn’t feel like a regular storm. Tainted magic weighed heavy in the air, fouling the atmosphere with ozone.
The howling winds were here.
As one, they all turned and ran for the house. Trick struggled to shut the door, and Cole and Rodion threw their weight behind it until the latch clicked firmly.
Carina dug in her bag and soon came up with a handful of small, shining bits of stone and wire. She immediately began to hang them on the hinges, the lock and the knob, murmuring over each one as she placed them. “Wards for protection. Here. Place one at every window and door. Anywhere the wind can blow through.”
Everyone took a few and they scattered through the house, placing the tiny talismans at every opening. Trick followed, singing a few words over each one to strengthen the wards. When they gathered back in the living room, they took a moment to breathe.
“What. The hell. Was that?” Cole glared at all of them.