Marrok growled, baring his teeth.
Oriana’s gaze slid to his left hind leg and then to his clawed feet. The transformation was done. A white werewolf stood before her, eyes crimson and all traces of the werewolf of her heart gone with the last vestiges of his blackness disappearing like a vapor cloud.
The little witch inside Keira must’ve sensed the complete change in Marrok because she fought like a wildcat, screaming and twisting, doing any and everything to get away from the Muraco who held her in a grip gone deadly.
Oriana lowered her hands, face awash in tears. Hers silent to Keira’s uncontrollable deluge. She couldn’t lose both of them but had no idea how to save one without killing the other. Pleading and rational talk would be fruitless, as would a full-on attack. Marrok held their daughter in front of him, a flesh-and-blood shield.
She backed away, eyes on Marrok and Keira. Stepping carefully to avoid falling over broken furniture and smashed doors, Oriana retreated. As she knew they would, Marrok’s eyes followed her every movement. He wouldn’t let her out of his sight, but she needed him to view her as a bigger payday worth pursuing rather than settling for the easier prey he already claimed.
What would it take to have a Muraco turn away from a sure meal?
Oriana released her magic into the air, creating a vortex similar to the one she had in Elio Desert. Flooding the vortex with her magic, she used the crimson fog to shield her shift.
Marrok sniffed the air. Interested.
Oriana moved further away from Keira’s bedroom and deeper into her destroyed suite. She’d never be able to sleep in there again. The love and peace they’d found together in the suite no longer existed, marred by the ugliness that had tainted their sanctuary.
Long, sharp fangs sparkled white, saliva dripping from them.
Oriana’s heart thudded an erratic beat. Had she miscalculated? Would he eat Keira first before coming after Oriana? No, she couldn’t permit that to happen, couldn’t watch her daughter die at the hands of her father, couldn’t—
Marrok charged Oriana, tossing Keira to the side, as he dropped to all fours and rushed her. She’d fought Muraco before, some larger than her husband but none of them had meant to her what Marrok did.
Muscles rippled under white fur and thick hide. Claws scratched the wood finish of the floor. Teeth bared, ready to rip Oriana to shreds.
She didn’t back away. She couldn’t, so she stood her ground. Not a cell in her body recoiled in fear but they all quaked with grief.
Marrok ran into the vortex, mouth open, rows of deadly teeth coming toward Oriana.
Shutting her eyes, she lifted her right hand and . . . fired.
Death Becomes Her
April 25, 2243
Irongarde Realm
Irongarde Skyrise
“I need to go.” Oriana jumped from the bed, the suite the same one she’d had since she was a baby. Over the years, Kalinda had allowed Oriana to redecorate her own room instead of hiring a professional designer to do it for her. The results were never what Kalinda expected or what she would’ve chosen for herself but the suite always exuded Oriana’s tastes and personality—outgoing, fun, kind, and sensitive.
Oriana may have moved to Steelcross, but this would always be her suite. Kalinda loved when Oriana visited, especially when she brought Keira with her. But this visit, a Whisperers of Echoes jump from Steelcross to Irongarde, Oriana holding an out of control Keira, an ashen-faced Solange and Nahara beside her, Kalinda would never wish to see her daughter and granddaughter under such horrific circumstances.
Kalinda placed her hand on Oriana’s shoulder, a gentle physical persuasion her stubborn daughter looked ready to fight against. To stave-off a headache-inducing argument, she used her only leverage. “It took you an hour to calm Keira enough for her to fall asleep. If you leave and she awakens, she’ll breakdown again.”
“You’ll be here.”
“I will, but you’re her mother. She’ll want you not me. Please, Oriana. Stay. Sleep.”
As if someone had reached into her chest and removed her will, Oriana slumped to the bed, caving in on herself. She hadn’t cried, not a single tear but, for once, Kalinda wished her daughter would give in to her sadness. The sight of her only child, eyes depleted of their normal sunshine and replaced with gray clouds, had Kalinda sitting beside a prone Oriana and stroking her hair.
“It’ll be all right. I’ll make it all right.”
“It won’t be. I shot him. My husband. The father of my child.”
She’d forced Solange and Nahara to stay until they’d given her a full report. When Oriana had stormed from her office, Kalinda had remained on the balcony, upset about her argument with Oriana but unaware of what was happening a half-planet away. Despite what Oriana believed, Kalinda did not dislike Marrok. How could she, when he made her daughter so happy? Although she’d never believed their marriage would last, none did between witches and werewolves, she’d wished them many children and years of joy before the inevitable befell them.
This was not how their marriage should’ve ended--Oriana forced to raise a weapon against her consort, Keira witness to the violence.
“They made so much noise, we heard the fight two floors down,” Solange had told her. “The door to their suite was blocked.”
At Kalinda’s raised eyebrow, her silent question evident, Solange had added, “There was a forcefield around Oriana’s suite. We couldn’t enter through the door or by jumping in. If we could’ve reached Marrok sooner, Matriarch, he wouldn’t have had to fight three Muracos on his own. He did one hell of a job defending himself and protecting Keira, but by the time we were able to counteract the forcefield it was too late.”
Too late. Yes, the craven beasts had turned Marrok him into a disgusting Muraco, leaving Oriana no choice but to hurt him to save herself and her daughter.
“When the field finally broke, we rushed in through the nursery. Thank the sun for that choice because any other route into the room would’ve ended with Keira’s death. I took the shot, straight through the Muraco’s arm. Nahara finished him off. When I get back, I’ll arrange for clean-up. Not every Crimson Guard is like the witches assigned to Steelburgh. They’re loyal, Matriarch. We’ll secure Oriana’s suite then begin the hunt for Dr. Bhavari.”
Nahara had nodded, her jaw as tight as her fists were balled. “We’ll catch her. No one else we can think of would’ve had the motive and means to pull something like this off. She wanted to assassinate our Matriarch. She’ll regret her betrayal. And the baby,” Nahara had whispered the four-letter world, anger in the two syllables she pushed through thinned lips. “Did she forget they had a baby who could’ve been in the suite with them, or was she so distraught over her wife’s death she’d sacrifice a child for her revenge?”
Kalinda’s thoughts had run along the same lines. But that could wait. At least for a little while. First, she needed to take care of her daughter.
“You were forced to make an impossible decision. No one will fault you.”
“His parents and brothers will. Dr. Bhavari came looking for me. Poor Marrok got caught in the crosshairs.”
Kalinda wondered how long it would take for Oriana to blame her for Bhavari’s actions. Once she rested, had time to grieve Marrok and the loss of her marriage, she’d recall their talk on the balcony. In light of what happened in Steelcross and the role Oriana believed Kalinda played in helping the Steelburgh guards free and hide the Muracos, it wasn’t a leap in logic to assume her daughter would come to view her as the source of her pain.
She couldn’t allow that to happen. Kalinda refused to lose her daughter in any way.
“You were right earlier.”
“About what?” Oriana kicked off her sandals then curled her tall, fit frame around a sleeping Keira, her back to Kalinda.
She stroked her hair, toying with the silky strands. “There is a witch in Steelburgh who reports directly to me.”
“A spy, you mean.”
&n
bsp; “If you must label her that way, fine then, a spy.”
“Who?”
“Bhavari’s assistant.”
Turning onto her back, Oriana leveled two accusing eyes up at her. “You knew what they were planning? I can’t believe you would—”
“No, I didn’t know. I didn’t find out about the plot until after you came to me. After you left, I called Misae.”
“Your spy.”
“Do stop calling her that.”
“Why? That’s what she was. I tried to locate her, but she disappeared. I suppose that was your doing?”
“I sent her on extended leave off-planet.”
“Convenient.” Oriana shifted away from Kalinda again, shoulders hunched to her ears. “Go on. Tell me the rest.”
The part of Kalinda that craved physical closeness considered joining her daughter and granddaughter in the bed. As out of sorts as Oriana felt, she was a loving girl who wouldn’t turn away from Kalinda in her time of need, even though she was the one more in need of comforting.
“I should let you sleep. I’ll go.”
“No. Don’t.” Back still to Kalinda, Oriana reached behind her and grabbed Kalinda’s hand, holding it tightly. “Stay. Tell me the truth. Please.”
The truth? As a child, Oriana used to grab Kalinda’s hand, whenever they walked the streets of Irongarde City. Not because she was small and afraid and the city vast, buildings lofty but because she’d once told Kalinda that, “Sometimes adults get lost. If you hold my hand and still get lost, at least we’ll be together. That way, you’ll never be lonely.” Oriana’s insight at seven had frightened Kalinda. The truth of what she stood to lose scared her even more.
“I don’t want you and your Crimson Guards going after the Muracos until we’ve confirmed their presence in Janus Nether.”
The finger that had been rubbing the back of her hand stilled. Oriana pushed herself up in bed, Kalinda reluctant to free her hand, the separation producing a sudden beat of anxiety.
“I can capture them.”
“I know you can. In Janus Nether. Not wherever in the hell they’re hiding now.”
“You know where they are. Just tell me, and I’ll organize a team and retrieve them and Dr. Bhavari.”
“Do you really think, if I knew where the escaped prisoners and Dr. Bhavari were I’d let them stay on the loose? Do you believe me as coldhearted as everyone else?”
“I didn’t say that but . . . but . . .” Questioning, confused eyes bore into Kalinda. “If you’re not the one who is helping Dr. Bhavari hide the Muracos then I don’t know who is. Solange and I must’ve missed someone.”
Oriana sounded doubtful but also relieved. Kalinda would take both emotions.
“You’ve been through two harrowing ordeals in a short period.”
“I know, but—”
“Let Bhavari bring her Muracos to us. After what she attempted in Steelcross, it’s clear she’ll go to any lengths, including finishing what she and the others started. Janus Nether is her target. Now that Abelone is dead, she has nothing but her grief and revenge to keep her going. She’ll have the Muracos attack the black werewolves of Janus Nether because she wants to bring you down to her level. She may have missed her chance to kill you but Bhavari is still a threat.”
“I know all of that. But I won’t stand by and wait for her to jump all of those damn Muracos to Janus Nether. Mother, I . . . I saw what their bite does to a black werewolf.” Tears formed in eyes already red. “I saw the sanity leech from Marrok’s eyes, as his color bled away. I can’t permit that to happen to other black werewolves. It’s a brutal and sickening fate they don’t deserve.”
Tears fell, and Oriana let them, holding Kalinda’s gaze the same way she’d held her hand—tenderness overladen with determination.
“What do you suggest then?”
“I agree that Janus Nether is the target. Their collar-free status is the most visible and far-reaching of my matriarchal decrees. Few cared about or know of the white werewolves in Steelburgh, but a collar-free Janus Nether was worldwide news, creating pundits in every nook of the planet. If it’s overrun by Muracos, turning innocent black werewolves into faded threats to us all, we’ll have more to concern ourselves with than a heartbroken healer on a murderous warpath and public opinion polls.”
“There will be chaos. Scared witches make for deadly witches, Oriana, and threatened black werewolves, even ones in Silver Snares, won’t stand by and wait to be turned by Muracos or attacked as a preemptive strike by frightened witches.”
“We need to evacuate the region, as soon as possible.”
“It’s a large area, and you have less than two days.”
Dark brows scrunched together, Oriana processing her statement. “Why only two days?”
Kalinda waited, as Oriana contemplated her own question. Her gaze traveled to her sleeping granddaughter, calm and quiet, unlike how she’d been when she’d arrived. The sound of Keira’s high-pitched screams had brought Kalinda running from the balcony, where she reclined on the chaise lounge, marveling at the beauty of the risen sun, the heat luxurious against her upturned face.
She reached for the comforter covering Keira’s petite form, hating what she’d see if she pulled the blanket back, but drawn to the sight anyway. Hand on the comforter, she stopped at Oriana’s firm command of, “Don’t.”
“I want to check on the healer’s work. Her bruises should be better.”
Oriana shook her head and lowered her eyes but said nothing more. Kalinda took that as permission to proceed, so she pulled down the comforter. Keira slept in only a pair of panties and an undershirt. After Keira’s birth, Kalinda had added a dresser to Oriana’s childhood suite, stocking it with items for her grandchild. Whatever Keira may have needed, when she visited Kalinda, she made sure to keep on hand, including clothing. But the healer wanted nothing against Keira’s bruised skin, not even a nightgown, so Oriana had washed and dressed her in the barest of clothing before tucking her into bed and rocking her asleep.
“Marrok didn’t mean to hurt our daughter.” So she’d said a half dozen times, apologizing to Keira who cried during the non-invasive medical examination.
“I know.”
“He didn’t realize how tightly he was holding her. He thought he was protecting her. Marrok did protect her.”
“I know that as well.” Protected Keira to the point of nearly breaking her arms and legs in his rough grip.
Keira’s body no longer bore the bright red of fresh bruises but the bluish-purple of the early stage of healing. In a few hours, they should be better still and pale green. With another treatment, maybe tomorrow, the bruises should be completely healed. But one had to be careful using strong magic on children as young as Keira. It could do more harm than good. It was a testament to Oriana’s concern about Keira’s health and shock over Marrok that had her consenting to Kalinda calling for her personal healer to work on Keira. It could’ve also been Oriana’s wide-eyed worry over Keira’s head wound.
Kalinda tucked the comforter back around her precious grandbaby. Bhavari would suffer for what she’d done. Kalinda would see that she did.
“He didn’t mean to hurt her,” Oriana repeated, a mantra necessary for only herself. She raised her head. “He threw her to get to me. I heard her land, a hard thud. But there wasn’t anything I could do to help her. I couldn’t even take my eyes offs off Marrok to see where Keira had landed and if she was okay. He was right in front of me, and all I could see was him, but my mind and heart were torn between the two of them.”
Pulled by their mutual love for Keira, heir to Earth Rift, Kalinda and Oriana peered down at the little girl, a bandage on her forehead. The healer had closed the wound, the bandage unnecessary except as a deterrent to keep Keira from scratching after she complained the magic was “itchy.”
“The white moon is in two days. I’d forgotten. That doesn’t give us much time to evacuate the citizens of Janus Nether’s three cities.”
&
nbsp; “No, it doesn’t, and it must be done quietly and quickly. We don’t want to risk Dr. Bhavari learning of the evacuation and altering her plans. Our best chance to recapture or to kill the Muracos is to have them where we know they’ll be and to have our Crimson Guards waiting for them. Dividing our forces between three cities is a far better option than scouring an entire full-human realm for them in small groups. And that’s assuming you’re correct about Bhavari having hidden the Muracos in Perilune Rille.
After what she did in Steelcross City, she and her Muracos could be anywhere in the world. If she’s working by herself, which I doubt, Bhavari could jump the werewolves to a new location. It would take several jumps to transport so many werewolves, but it’s doable. Using Whisperers of Echoes is certainly quicker and safer than using the Magerun system. Bhavari is an intelligent woman. She would’ve correctly assumed you’d alerted the Crimson Guard Transit Authority, providing the CGTA with the name and picture of every escaped Steelburgh Muraco and then updating their intel to include the witch suspects.”
“Everything you’ve said makes sense. It’s all very logical and tidy but Dr. Bhavari jumping those Muracos to my home was messy and irrational. You and I know she had to have been there with them, even if only for a few seconds to ground her magic in the new location.” Oriana made to leave the bed again, but Kalinda, who sat on the side of the bed beside her daughter, didn’t budge, earning her a frown she couldn’t care less about.
“Mother, I need to get up and get to work.”
“What you need is rest.”
“I don’t have the time to spare. Less than two days, remember? The white moon will bolster the werewolves’ strength while sapping ours, making that day the ideal time to launch an attack against us. It should’ve occurred to me earlier. I had wondered why Abelone and the others had waited to unleash the Muracos. Now I know. The biannual white moon. If Dr. Bhavari doesn’t move on Janus Nether during this white moon, she’ll have to wait until October for the second opportunity. That couldn’t have been part of Abelone’s plan. I would’ve hunted the witches and Muracos down long before then. No one as smart as Abelone would give me that kind of lead time, not if they want their plan to succeed.”
Promise Forever: Fairy Tales with a Modern Twist Page 51