by R. L. King
But how could they do it? Her own power held the chalice above the cauldron. If they took her out, it would drop in before they could grab it. He might be able to wrench it free, but he couldn’t be certain, since he didn’t know how powerful her hold was. Viajera was fast, but was she fast enough?
They might be able to do something if they could communicate, but that was out of the question. Garra would never allow it. They were in her lair now—how many protections and hidden traps had she built here to ensure her safety? They dared not risk anything direct.
But what about something indirect?
Stone gripped Viajera’s shoulder. “You’re right,” he said, with the same level of defeated resignation. He glared at Garra. “You’ve won. This time, anyway. But you must know it’s not just Viajera who won’t stop looking for you.”
“Oh, I’m aware of that.” Garra sounded amused now.
That, more than anything else, told Stone what he needed to know: that there was no way she was going to let them leave here alive. She had something waiting for them out there—that was doubtless why her men hadn’t attacked.
He tightened his grip on Viajera’s shoulder and squeezed twice, hoping she’d catch on that he was up to something, and be ready for it. “Come on,” he said to the others. “We’ve no choice. We’ve got to respect Viajera’s wishes.”
“But—” Verity protested.
“No, Verity. Come on.”
They didn’t want to—he could see it. He could sense Verity’s desire to try something magical, and Jason’s to lunge at Garra with his newfound strength and speed, to hope that the alchemist couldn’t stop all of them at once before they plucked the chalice from harm’s way. He didn’t miss the way they were both looking at him—confused and angry at the thought that he’d give up so easily—but he didn’t meet their gazes. They had only one chance at this, and everything depended on Viajera.
He waved them ahead of him, back toward the door. After a moment they went, both of them trudging with slow, reluctant steps. He knew what they were thinking: after all they’d gone through to get here, they were just going to let her win?
Viajera didn’t go ahead of him, though. She remained a step or two behind, her angry breathing loud and steady.
Jason and Verity reached the door and stepped through. Stone paused, turning back. Garra watched them from the other side of the cauldron, her beady black eyes still and cold.
Then, suddenly, she yelped as the chalice shot upward and flew to the side, rocketing clear of the circle and slamming into the far wall. Behind Stone, Verity and Jason yelled too.
Several things happened after that, most so fast Stone could barely follow them. The most important was Viajera in front of him, slipping free of his coat as she lunged forward with frightening speed, her body morphing as she moved. By the time she reached the center of the circle she was in full jaguar form, her powerful hind legs propelling her up and over the cauldron toward Garra, who’d staggered backward in shock.
Jason, moving faster than Stone but not as fast as Viajera, dived for the chalice where it had landed near the wall on the far side of the room.
Verity grabbed the cauldron with a telekinetic grip and yanked it hard, overturning it. Bubbling liquid poured out, hissing and sending up more clouds of noxious smoke as it ate through parts of the floor, obscuring the circle.
Stone dropped the illusion he’d been weaving, noting Jason’s shout of surprise as the chalice he’d been chasing—the illusionary version—vanished. He snatched up the real one, which Viajera—the only one of them he’d allowed to see it—had knocked free of danger with her leap, and pulled it to him.
“I’ve got it!” he yelled. “Go!”
She didn’t need to hear it: she was already going. Garra, as soon as she’d realized she’d been tricked, had dived toward the shelves on the far side of the room, plucking two bottles from the wall. One, she pulled the stopper from and downed. The other, she flung toward the lunging jaguar, sending up billows of black smoke that obscured her from their vision.
“No!” Stone cried, still clutching the chalice as Viajera shimmered and morphed back into her human form, coughing.
“Yeah, not happening!” Verity yelled, gesturing as Jason headed for the smoke. A whipping whirlwind arose from the floor, dissipating the black smoke toward the room’s edges.
Jason disappeared through the door, running hard, but as soon as the smoke cleared Viajera was a jaguar again, streaking past him through the open doorway and into the hall.
“Viajera!” Stone yelled, running after her with Verity in his wake.
“We can’t let her get away!” Verity panted. Up ahead, another open door indicated Garra had escaped into the night.
Stone shifted to magical sight as he exited the building, scanning the trees. He saw nothing—no signs of auras or running figures. Even Jason had disappeared into the forest. He clenched his fists in frustration and tightened his focus as Verity skidded to a stop behind him. They were not going to let Garra get away! Not after everything they’d done, everything she’d done—
From the forest to the south came a screaming roar—the triumphant cry of a hunting cat.
Stone glanced at Verity, then both of them took off at a run toward the sound.
Without conscious thought, Stone cast two spells: a globe of light around his raised hand, and levitation to lift himself off the ground. Freed of the fear of tripping over a protruding branch or rock, he flew forward, the light spell illuminating the thick growth ahead of him.
When he burst into a clearing a few yards ahead, he smelled the blood before anything else.
He dropped the levitation spell, shocked, and barely noticed stumbling to the ground. “Bloody hell…” he breathed as he caught himself.
Verity came up next to him, and Jason burst into the clearing from the other side. They too stopped, gaping.
Viajera, in her jaguar form, stood over the fallen form of Marciella Garra. The alchemist’s throat had been torn out, her bright red blood pulsing and flowing into the carpet of leaves and pine needles beneath her. Viajera’s front legs were spread wide, straddling Garra, her muzzle and long, pointed fangs stained with more blood. As the others entered the clearing she roared again, fixing each of them with wild, rage-filled glare. Her message couldn’t have been clearer: do not get between me and my prey.
Beneath her, Garra’s body twitched, a faint gurgle coming from her destroyed trachea, and then she lay still.
Stone held up a hand, gesturing for Jason and Verity to stay back, then took a tentative step forward. “Viajera,” he said gently. “Stop. It’s over. It’s done.”
She made a sound that was half-growl, half-roar, lowering her head and shoulders into a warning stance.
Stone raised the chalice, which he’d carefully tucked in the crook of his other arm. “Viajera. It’s over. I’ve got the chalice. You’ve got what you came for. Please—step away from her.”
The yellow-gold gaze shifted between Stone’s face and the chalice in his hand, then back. She growled again, but softer this time, and stared down at Garra’s body. The alchemist had bled out by now, her wide, sightless eyes nearly popping out of her head. Silence hung in the air, broken only by the three humans’ heavy breathing and the growling chuffs of the jaguar.
Finally, she lifted a deliberate paw and stepped away from Garra, turning fully toward Stone. For a second he thought she might leap at him, but instead she made a humanlike sound of resignation and shifted back. Her hair hung disheveled and leaf-strewn around her face, her entire lower jaw was drenched in blood, and her eyes still held the half-feral rage that had driven her to what she’d done. Even though she was once again naked, there was nothing sexy or sensual about her now. She looked every bit as bestial as she had in her jaguar form.
“It’s done,” she said. “Give it to me.”
Stone approached her slowly, making no sudden moves that might set her off again, and offered her the chalice.<
br />
She took it with gentle hands, cradling it as she had the cub. Tears meandered down, cutting tracks along her gore-strewn cheeks. “So much death…” she murmured. “So much horror…and all for—” She gestured back toward Garra’s body. “Greed. Envy. Hatred.”
“It’s all right…” Stone whispered.
Verity approached then, holding up Stone’s coat, which she’d apparently retrieved on her way over.
Viajera took it, expressionless now. She refused to give up the chalice, awkwardly donning the coat without setting it down.
Off to the north side of the clearing, they all heard a rustle.
Jason stiffened, preparing to launch himself in that direction, but Viajera raised her hand.
“Let him go,” she said dully. “He is nothing now.”
She might be right—she probably was. Whichever of Garra’s henchmen he was, he’d soon revert to normal human strength and power when the potion wore off, and he no doubt knew it. But that still left another matter to attend to. “Excuse me,” Stone said, and took off before anyone could question him.
By the time Verity followed him back at Garra’s lab less than five minutes later, it was unrecognizable. The parts of the circle the cauldron’s mixture hadn’t obliterated were gone, the components twisted and destroyed, and every one of the bottles shattered into tiny pieces. Stone had let his power loose, giving vent to every bit of rage he’d been unable to express against Marciella Garra for the atrocities she’d committed or commissioned, and the results were frightening to behold.
“Doc…?” she asked, looking around at his handiwork. “Everything okay?”
“Not really,” he said. “But it will be.”
She stood next to him, making no move to touch him. “Are you okay?”
He wondered if she regarded him the same way he had Garra: as a dangerous force best treated with caution. Maybe that was what he was. He offered a faint smile. “I’m fine.”
She mirrored the smile, tentatively. “That was a nice trick with the illusion. You had me fooled into thinking you’d tossed it away.”
He gripped her shoulder. “You’re rubbing off on me, apprentice. Teaching me sometimes the subtle solution is the best one.”
She nodded toward destroyed lab. “And sometimes it’s best to just wreck the joint.”
“Surprisingly cathartic, I’ll say that much. Where are the others?”
“Here,” came Viajera’s voice. She drew up behind Stone, studying the carnage in the ritual room without comment. She’d buttoned Stone’s coat, and still cradled the golden chalice in the crook of her arm like a child.
“And Garra?”
“She’s still there.” Her eyes narrowed, her expression growing cold. “We could bury her, but why? She doesn’t deserve it after what she’s done. The authorities will find her soon. They’ll think an animal got her.”
Which wouldn’t be far from the truth, would it? Stone thought, but didn’t say it. He looked past her to Jason, who seemed oddly subdued. It was obvious the potion he’d taken was wearing off; some of his preternatural grace and augmented musculature had subsided. Stone wasn’t sure if it was disappointment he saw in his friend’s eyes at the fact that he’d destroyed all the contents of the lab, but he wouldn’t have been surprised if it was.
“Come on,” he said. “We should get out of here before the authorities arrive, in case Officer Foley’s partner went for help.”
“Yes,” Viajera agreed. “And I’ve got a child to find. He no longer has a mother, but at least I can let him know he’s safe now.”
46
“You’re leaving tomorrow, then,” Stone said.
“Yes. It’s for the best, I think.”
He and Viajera sat across from each other at a shadowy table at the back of a small Brazilian steakhouse in Los Altos. Anyone who saw them there might think they were on a date—an attractive, well-dressed couple getting to know each other over a carnivorous feast. Even though it wasn’t true—romance was the farthest thing from either of their minds—Stone couldn’t miss a new calm in Viajera’s demeanor. She still maintained the feline grace and watchfulness, but the return of the chalice had drained away a low-level tension he hadn’t even realized wasn’t a regular aspect of her character.
“I wish you could stay a while longer.”
“So do I—but I need to get this back to my people. They’ll be waiting for me.” She indicated the large, black leather handbag at her feet; even now, she wouldn’t allow the chalice to be more than an arm’s reach away from her. “I think we may try again.”
“Try—you mean you think you might try rejoining the clan?”
She nodded, picking at the blood-rare slice of sirloin on her plate. “The clan leaders were beyond grateful to me for retrieving the chalice. They were shocked when they found out it was Garra who took it. They haven’t seen her for years, but she’d always been one of the only humans allowed any kind of access to the clan’s inner workings.”
“But not enough for her, apparently.”
“No.”
As the waiter, clad in the wide pants and loose-fitting shirt of the gaucho, stopped by to offer them bacon-wrapped filets from his long skewer, Stone’s mind returned to the events of the last two days.
They hadn’t had any problems getting away from the abandoned complex. He’d expected Garra’s men to give them trouble, but aside from a couple of carefully laid magical traps that he’d disarmed easily, nothing or no one had made any effort to stop them. Perhaps once they’d seen their meal ticket lying on the ground with her throat torn out, they’d decided to make themselves scarce rather than risk angering those who’d done it. Stone didn’t care—they were murderers, yes, but now they were nothing more than normal human murderers. He’d given Leo Blum a couple of tips that might aid in their apprehension, but aside from that he considered the matter no more of his concern.
That hadn’t extended to Garra’s operation, though. After destroying the alchemy lab, he’d made a point to take out the research building as well. By the time they arrived back there, the cougar and the two wolves were gone, so Stone once again let loose. Verity, Viajera, and Jason had helped some, but mostly he’d allowed himself to revel once more in exploring his new power and what it could do. When they left the area, the lab had been reduced to rubble, and anything that might identify what Garra had been doing with the animals lay in ruin. Authorities might still figure out that someone was keeping creatures there illegally, but that was all.
Officer Foley had called them as they drove back toward Palo Alto. The bear shifter, Tony, had taken the cub and gone into hiding, but had left contact information for Viajera to reach him. He hadn’t heard from the wolves or the cougar, but said Tony had assured him if they’d escaped the lab, they’d be safe.
“Don’t worry,” he said when Stone had asked him if he planned to reveal any of what he’d seen. “Nobody’d believe me anyway, and I don’t want to cause trouble for Tony. He’s a good guy. You don’t have to worry about me not keeping my mouth shut.”
Stone returned his attention to Viajera. “I’m sorry about what happened at the University. I tried to put in a good word for you, but apparently even my increased status in the department isn’t enough to offset falsifying your credentials.”
She shrugged. “It’s probably for the best. I wouldn’t have stayed anyway—now that I’ve got what I came for, I want to get back to my own people. This way, at least, I have an excuse.”
“True. And perhaps the department will vet any future candidates a bit more carefully.” He gave a rueful smile. “I’m beginning to wonder if we’ll ever find someone else.”
“You will. I’m sure of it. You just have to wait for the right one to come along.”
Stone took a sip of wine, his smile growing amused. “I wonder how Verity is doing with Diego. I don’t know if she’s ever done any child-minding before, but I’ll wager she’s definitely never done any like this.”
“Well…given that when we left, he was cuddled up on your sofa with her, Jason, and Raider watching a nature program, I think they’ll be fine.”
“It’s a good thing shifter cubs require less specialized care than regular ones.” He sighed. “I’m sorry he won’t ever get to know his mother because of Garra.”
“So am I. But he will be well taken care of by the clan, and he’ll never want for anything. So you needn’t worry about him.”
Stone chuckled. “I think the only thing you should be worried about is whether Verity will let him go.”
“She can come visit him,” she said, laughing. Her expression sobered. “So can you, you know,” she said softly. “Visit him, and…visit me as well.”
“I might take you up on that, after things have calmed down. I’ve never been to South America. And now that Verity’s gotten into alchemy, she might want to contact the magical community down there. I understand the rainforests are treasure-houses of alchemical ingredients.”
“No doubt. Ah, that reminds me.” She pulled her purse to her and withdrew a small cloth bag. “Please give this to her.”
“What is it?”
“Go ahead and look.”
He opened the bag and withdrew a brown bottle stoppered with a wax-coated cork. It was about the size of a small soda bottle, and bore no label or markings. Curious, he held it up to the light and caught a faint tinge of red. “Blood?”
“Mine.”
He frowned. “Why would you—”
“She has a strong interest in alchemy, so I thought she might use it for some experimentation. Shifter blood is useful in many applications, I understand. I trust her to use it wisely.” Her eyes twinkled. “And tell her that’s all she’s getting, at least for now.”
As Stone bent to tuck the bag into his briefcase, she added softly, “You two suit each other, you know.”