Shattered

by Melissa Lummis

  “They are in a deep, meditative trance. I have a team working on this night and day, in shifts, keeping the portal open.”

  “Why? If they opened it once, they can do it again. Why keep it open?”

  Modore stopped short and spun around. “Because, dear boy, they didn’t open it without help. And that help is now unavailable.” His face contorted into a sneer. “I am out of the original blood, and the small drink I had from the Light Walker has worn off.”

  Christian kept his eyes on Modore. “So you need her blood to open one of these?”

  “Yes. Or even better, I need her bonded to me. Then we will be able to do many, many things.” His eyes glazed over and his voice paled. “We won’t need portals. She is a portal.”

  Christian’s eyes shifted to the green and blue swirling orb. Small pin pricks of white light surfaced like bubbles rising to the surface of champagne. As he watched, tingles climbed his spine until they lifted the hairs on the back of his neck.

  “Why do you need this portal?”

  Modore shook himself and his suicidal smile returned. “We need to bring together old friends.”

  “Old friends?”

  “Well, my old friends. More than friends, once.” Modore swallowed the last bit of brandy. He sighed at the empty glass. “Reminds me of her.”

  Christian’s face was stone. “Her?”

  He waved a hand. “What I need from you is your witch.”

  Christian’s jaw flexed. “Why?”

  Modore flickered and he held Christian by the neck a foot off the ground before Christian even registered his movement. “You are just full of questions tonight, aren’t you?”

  “You usually like that about me,” Christian rasped.

  “My dear boy, it is time. Bring me the red witch."

  “And I am asking again. Why? What do you need her to do?”

  Modore and Christian stared at each other, each of them weighing the sanity of the other.

  “You’ve become fond of her.” Modore chuckled as he lowered his progeny to the floor and released his neck.

  Christian rubbed his neck and cleared his throat. “It’s impossible not to become fond of your bondmate.”

  Modore nodded absently as he continued his stroll around the orb, as if the confrontation had never happened. “Yes, I know, but you must learn to be your own master. You must always keep your head.”

  He stopped behind one of the black-robed witches. He pulled her hood from her head, revealing a middle-aged woman with greying, brown hair. Even as he pulled her hair away from her neck, she didn’t move. Christian grimaced at the star-burst scars on her neck. There was no reason she should have bite marks on her neck like that.

  Vampire saliva healed bites completely. Modore stroked her neck with two fingers, then caught her chin in his hand and stretched her neck out. He bit fast, clamping down and the witch screamed, her eyes popping open and her hands flying up. Her eyes bulged as Modore slurped up her blood until her eyelids fluttered and her greyish eyes rolled back in her head. Modore caught her as she went limp.

  “Jesus, Modore. You don’t need that much—“

  Faster than Christian’s vampire eyes could follow, Modore dropped the witch and backhanded his progeny. Christian flew across the room and there was a loud crack as his face slammed into the wall. He caught himself as he fell and landed on his feet like a cat. His nose and cheekbone were crushed.

  He swallowed the pain, because there was pain. Even if it would heal over the next few minutes, he still felt the pain. Modore scooped up the unconscious witch and called out.

  “Angelo!”

  A hidden door opened and another black-robbed witch emerged, followed by a rough-looking man. From the smell of him, Christian thought he was some form of lesser demon, but he couldn’t be sure. He was covered in a foulness that made the vampire step back involuntarily. It was the kind of smell one would have associated with a slaughter house. The demon grabbed the flaccid witch while the new one took her place.

  The witch on the other side of the orb hadn’t changed her stance or made a sound. Was she that deep in a trance or seasoned enough to know better? Christian brought his hand to his face, aware of the bone and tissue reforming. Healing hurt too, but in a good way. As the process neared completion it was more of an itch, an irritation. Then, the aching pulse faded and he was back to normal—whatever that was in his world.

  “Heather is not ready for this kind of work. She’s still learning. You gave Patrick years to develop his abilities before you brought him in.”

  Modore dabbed at his mouth and examined his fingers, his tongue darting out like a snake’s to lick the blood. “We don’t have that kind of time. You know that. Each day,” he jabbed a finger at Christian, “each fuck binds them closer. Soon, they will be inseparable and all we will have achieved is her death.”

  He covered his eyes with a hand. “And I can’t afford to wait for her next reincarnation.”

  “What do you mean?” Christian dared to step closer to his maker. “You have all the time in the world.”

  Modore’s cackle reverberated off the curved wall and filled the chamber. “You would think, wouldn’t you?” He stopped laughing. “But, that is the cosmic joke. On me.”

  Christian refrained from asking what he was talking about. He had danced too close to the devil tonight, as it was. His maker’s madness wore him out.

  “You will bring your Heather to me. It’s time for her to prove herself. If she is as powerful as she appears, then she will help me bring our friend back, and then you may continue her schooling.” Modore stepped so close to Christian their noses touched. “If not, well, I have other uses for her.”

  Christian’s mind churned for some way to put it off. He knew all along this was the way it would end: him handing Heather over to Modore. He knew, but he fooled himself into believing he could find a way out for her—if not for himself.

  “If she can control the orb, you will let me keep her? You will allow her to continue developing her skills, live a life? Like Patrick did?”

  Christian hated the pleading tone to his own voice, but he was at Modore’s mercy and there was nothing he could do about it. The vampire was far too strong and far too old. Modore held Christian’s arms, kneading them, and then his hands glided down until he clasped Christian’s hands.

  Eye’s glowing milky white, he said, “Yes, my child.” He squeezed Christian’s hands like a lover might. “Yes, my child. You can keep her.”

  He drew Christian into a lover’s embrace, his hands caressing his back. “You can keep your pet.” He kissed each of Christian’s cheeks, then his thin lips lingered on his progeny’s mouth for a moment. Sliding them along his jaw to his ear, he whispered, “Will that make you happy?”

  Christian closed his eyes and swallowed. “I want to keep her.”

  “I know you do, my dear boy. I know you do.” Modore licked his cheek.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  “We have to go back to the Anderson House, Wolf,” Loti said. She tied the sash of the cotton tunic around her waist with a jerk and sat down on the edge of the bed, her head in her hands.

  They had spent the better part of the day helping the fae search for John, but there was no sign of him. The orange hues of sunset washed the walls with a golden glow.

  “Why?” Wolf tugged on a black boot.

  Loti gave him an incredulous look. “They might be able to help us find John. We can’t leave it like this.”

  Wolf stamped on the second boot, and then looked at her out of the corner of his eye, his long, black hair partially blocking his view. “What if they were the ones who chased him down?”

  Loti tilted her head. “You think the Ring caused the accident?”

  Wolf heaved himself up and pulled on his leather jacket. “It’s possible and it’s also possible that whoever saved him caused the accident.”

  Howls and yelps came from outside their little cabin and Loti jumped up to get a bett
er look out the window. The fae’s pack of Malamutes was large, at least twenty dogs.

  “Asparas caused the accident? That doesn’t make any sense.” Loti stood on tip toe, watching their antics in the field in front of the roundhouse. Several fae romped around the galloping dogs, jumping over some.

  “What was she doing there just then? That far away from the colony?” Wolf laid a hand on Loti’s hip as one blue-haired male tackled a grey and white dog and a puff of fur enveloped them, like a white cloud of dust. Wolf’s arm encircled Loti’s waist and she instinctively leaned into him.

  “Their blowing their coats,” he murmured.

  “We had a mal when I was little. She was the sweetest thing,” she snorted. “Except with other dogs. She was always picking fights.” Loti’s eyes clouded over. “I can’t remember what happened to her.” She looked up at Wolf. “That’s weird.”

  Wolf studied Loti’s bottom lip she was busy trying to gnaw off.

  “She must have passed away.”

  Loti shook her head. “No, I don’t remember that.” She added her fingers to the lip mashing. “I would have remembered that.”

  Wolf glanced out the window. “We’ve got to get home. Katie and Rachel need us to come home.”

  Loti dropped her hand and bit her lip until a drop of blood welled. “What’s going to happen? What about John? What if he’s out there somewhere, hurt and alone, again? I can’t let that happen. I just can’t.”

  A dark thought clouded Wolf’s eyes as he cradled Loti’s face in his hands. “We have to let it go—” Loti twisted her mouth to say something, but Wolf kissed her lips, his tongue darting to lap up the blood before the tiny wound could heal. “For now. We spent an entire day looking for him. If he’s still alive, he’s not here. We need to focus on Katie.”

  Loti pulled away from him and paced the room. “What can the AWA do to her?”

  “Nothing. They can’t do anything to her because she didn’t do anything wrong.” Wolf tossed her the soft tunic-style jacket the fae had given her at Wolf’s request. “This is warmer than it looks. It’s a special raw silk only the fae know how to harvest.”

  Loti fingered the light fabric. It reminded her of micro suede, only softer and smoother. She shrugged the cream-colored jacket on and scanned the room. “So we’re flying home?” She grabbed something that looked like a muffin from the fresh tray of food on the windowsill. “Why don’t we use the nadis now that I know how to transport our physical selves?”

  Wolf raised an eyebrow. “You think you can get us home without any side trips?”

  Loti rolled her eyes. “Have a little faith in me, please.” She bit into the muffin and spat it out. “Yuck! What the heck?” She wiped at her mouth and threw the muffin back on the tray. “Tastes like kindergarten paste.”

  Wolf grimaced. “I have no clue what it is, but some of the fae concoctions are famous for their, uh, unpleasant-ness.” He winked at her. “At least to humans.”

  Loti wiped her tongue with a cloth napkin and Wolf chuckled.

  “Well, do you trust me?” Loti tossed the napkin on the windowsill.

  Wolf held her shoulders and kissed her forehead. “Always.”

  Loti took one last look around, but there was nothing she could have left behind. She arrived at the colony naked as the day she was born. Wolf held the door open for her and they walked out, Wolf donning a pair of dark glasses. They waved at the fae playing with the dogs as they hiked towards the woods. A few of the malamutes danced around them, tongues lulling, tails fanned out like plumes.

  Loti paused to pet a smaller female with a faint, white blaze on her forehead. The dog leaned heavily against Loti’s legs as she ran her fingers through its thick coat. She wiped dog hair from her hands as she hurried to catch up with Wolf, glancing back at the high-energy game of chase and tackle still going on.

  They picked their way through the woods on the barely discernible path. Loti’s thoughts were everywhere at once: on her father, on Katie, on her childhood pet, on the Ring, and on the nadis—what Aeval had taught her about how to use them to travel.

  But she didn’t teach me, she showed me. No, that’s not right—she reminded me.

  Still having trouble accepting your past lives, aren’t you?

  Maybe, but I can’t really deny it any longer.

  It’s not that surprising, really, if you think about it.

  Loti curled her bottom lip under. No, it’s not. How many times had she felt that she knew someone she just met? Or what about the way she felt about their ashram family?

  Like we were separated and found each other again?

  Loti stumbled over a moss covered rock and Wolf caught her by the arm. She arched her neck to see the tops of the trees, but it was already too dark to make out anything. Wolf followed her gaze and then took her elbow, urging her on.

  She watched her feet and a yard of trail ahead for a long time, listening to the crunch of leaves and the wind in the trees. When she looked back up, there was the high meadow. She straightened at the sight of the intersection of nadis glowing in the night. She looked back at Wolf and tugged him close.

  “I can see it without trying, now.”

  Wolf closed his eyes, taking a moment to see through her eyes. “Clearer. Hard not to see it, actually.”

  “Things keep changing.” She hesitated at the edge of the meadow.

  “‘Nothing endures but change’,” Wolf murmured, then pressed her palm to his mouth, kissed it.

  “Who said that?” Loti and Wolf walked hand in hand to the intersection of the nadis.

  “Heraclitus.”

  Loti gripped Wolf’s hand hard and closed her eyes. The meadow faded into the background and the glowing nadis dominated. Wolf pulled her into him and she pictured their little house at the ashram. She smelled the pine needles after baking in the afternoon sun. She heard the whippoorwill and the peeping frogs filling the spring night outside their home.

  She felt the comfort of home, the ease of their soft place, and love—the wordless clench of unconditional acceptance. And in the next moment they were in the nadis, racing along. Wolf held on tight and Loti let the ease of home fill her up, carry her there.

  In seconds they arrived, standing in the field by the lotus shrine, the pink glow reflected in Wolf’s eyes . He held his breath and so did Loti. As they did, the world pulsed with light and color, their chakras spinning faster, and the green of their shared heart chakra glowed brighter. They exhaled together and hugged each other tight.

  * * *

  Rachel paced the kitchen. The sun had set an hour ago and she still hadn’t heard from Loti or Wolf. Nan was in her pajamas and robe, sipping chamomile tea at the table.

  “Sit down, Rachel.” Katie grumbled. “You’re driving me nuts.”

  Rachel glared at her grandmother. “The doctor said you need to stay calm.”

  Katie rolled her eyes. “I’m calm. You’re the one pacing.”

  Rachel looked up at the ceiling and let out a breath. “I can’t help it. Loti and Wolf were supposed to be headed home as soon as the sun was down.”

  “And I’m sure they are.”

  Rachel’s cell phone rang. “Thank the Goddess.” She tapped the answer button. “Loti?”

  “It’s me. We’re back.” It was Loti.

  Rachel closed her eyes. “Oh my Goddess. Thank you. Thank you.”

  “What’s going on, Rachel? Calisto says Nan isn’t well.”

  “It’s this investigation. I think it’s breaking her down.”

  Katie arched her brows and frowned, but didn’t say anything. Rachel patted her shoulder and walked into the foyer, leaving her Nan to her tea.

  Cupping a hand over her mouth and the phone, she whispered, “The doctor said she needs to have an ultrasound done. He said he heard a bruit.”

  “A what?”

  “That’s what I said. It’s a wonky sound the blood makes when the arteries are narrowed.”

  “I’m sure he said ‘wonky
’.”

  Rachel cracked her first small smile in days. “Well, no. He said turbulence.”

  “So when will she have the ultrasound?”

  “Tomorrow. He worked her in because he’s that concerned.”

  “And what about the AWA?”

  Rachel glanced over her shoulder through the kitchen archway at Katie sipping tea with glassy eyes. “They’re making their determination now.”

  “They finished the investigation?”

  Rachel tapped her lips. “Yes, and Nan kind of pushed it along. She refused to answer any more questions.”

  “Sounds like her.”

  Rachel slumped to the bench in the foyer, leaned her head back against the wall, closing her eyes. “Yeah.” She cleared her throat. “I miss you, Loti.”

  “I’ve missed you, too.”

  “When am I going to see you?”

  “Well, I think Calisto wants us all to—”

  A crash in the kitchen startled Rachel to her feet. “Nan?”

  There was no answer and Rachel’s stomach hardened.

  “What’s going on, Rachel?”

  “I don’t know. Hold on.”

  Rachel ran into the kitchen and stopped short.

  “I just dropped the pitcher.” Katie was crouched on the kitchen floor scooping up wet glass into the dustpan.

  “Nan, here, let me.” Rachel set the phone on the counter and reached for the dustpan.

  “I can do it,” Katie snapped, jerking the pan out of her grasp.

  Rachel scowled, but nabbed the phone from the counter and pressed it to her ear. “It’s okay. Nan just dropped the iced tea pitcher.”

  “Do you think you can come out to the ashram tonight?” Rachel heard Wolf’s deep voice in the background. “Wolf says to bring Katie too.”

  “Well,” Rachel stared down at her Nan squatting over a puddle of tea and shards of glass.

  “Rachel.” Wolf’s deep voice replaced Loti’s.

  “Wolf. Nan’s having a hard time.” Rachel stalked over to the utility closet and grabbed the mop handle.