by SM Reine
Sitting on the matching chair next to the sofa, she studied her friend. Erin’s eyes moved restlessly back and forth under the thin skin of her eyelids. Her jaw worked as if she was attempting to speak, but all that came out were weak moans. Tasha rested her palm on Erin’s forehead. The skin was hot and dry.
Too hot.
That fever needed to come down. The hell with Lilith, Tasha decided.
She rose and found a clean cloth in the kitchen, doused it in cold water from the tap and returned to Erin, draping the cloth over her forehead. At the cool, wet touch, Erin gasped, but seemed to quiet after that.
Next, Tasha uncapped the ibuprofen bottle, tapped out two small caplets. In the kitchen, she opened cabinet doors until she found a glass, filled it with a couple inches of water, opened the caplets and tilted them until the contents spilled into the liquid. She swirled it around to mix the medicine.
Back at the sofa, she sat on the edge, lifted Erin’s head gently to prop it on her thigh and pressed the glass to Erin’s mouth. Up close, she noted that Erin’s lips were as pale the skin on her cheeks. They looked chapped and dry. She raised the glass until a few drops of water dribbled. Erin’s tongue flicked out. Tasha took advantage of the slight opening to tilt the glass higher. About a spoonful of the doctored water flowed into Erin’s mouth. It gurgled, and for a minute, Tasha thought she might choke, but Erin managed to swallow.
And so it went, one baby swallow at a time until the glass was empty.
With a sigh, Tasha rested the glass on the polished surface of the coffee table and moved over to the chair. She tugged a throw off the back of the chair, wrapped it around her shoulders and curled up in the chair, dozing and keeping an eye on her sleeping friend.
The cave entrance was hidden from casual view by thick undergrowth that gave natural cover. Over the years Gaebryl had added more and more to the complex string of protection wards draped over the surrounding pines, outcroppings of granite and blackberry bushes until the assemblage blinked blue and silver like an enthusiastic holiday display at a suburban shopping mall. All it needed was a couple menorahs, a Star of David, eight tiny reindeer and a red fat suit.
That or excess simply suited the seraphim’s ego.
Lilith had no doubt where her opinion landed on the subject.
She picked her way across a field of never realm land mines, flipping them from blue to white as she passed, then turning around and voicing the spell that switched them back on again before lifting a barely visible silver garland that neatly beheaded an unsuspecting trespasser.
It was ridiculous.
No one came up here except the odd hunter or hiker, and even if they did manage to defeat the deadly and invisible wards, all Gaebryl would have to do would be to appear in his Original form—twelve foot wingspan spread wide and otherworldly power glowing—and the poor human would probably drop to his knees.
Or faint.
Or start a new religion or both, not necessarily in that order.
When she reached the arch of rock that marked the opening, she touched a finger to the rune at the base of her throat and stepped into the forcefield. Shivery fingers of pure energy rippled over her skin, stinging at times, but mostly non-painful. The absence of pain held for about ninety seconds; after that, it would target the most sensitive nerve centers in her body until she collapsed or died.
Because, what the hell, even seraphim couldn’t be too careful these days with DOD drones filling the airways.
“Crispin!” she shouted. “If you don’t turn this damn thing off right now I’m going to rip your David Beckham posters into tiny shreds and burn them.”
The needles of energy intensified for three seconds, and then disappeared. Lilith took a breath and entered the cave. Small feet tapped on the dusty stone floor. A moment later, a tiny man appeared. He belonged to a race of earth spirits known as the Kyrst. He stood as tall as three human fists stacked on top of each other, but his height was accentuated by a peaked hat with a floppy green brim that gave the impression he topped twelve whole inches.
Removing the hat in a grand sweeping gesture, he bowed deeply, his spiky, ice-white hair nearly touching the ground. “As you wish, milady.”
“Where is he?” Lilith demanded.
Crispin replaced his hat and folded his tiny hands over his round belly. “Not until you take back what you said.”
“What?”
He tapped a slippered foot. “About my David.”
“He’s not yours,” Lilith said angrily. “David Beckham is a human being with a wife and kids and a life that does not include annoying little Kyrst.” The diminutive gatekeeper had carried a torch for the famous soccer player for years, but his devotion had grown fanatical lately, and made Lilith wish she’d never given him the posters in the first place.
Crispin sighed. “His life would be ever so much more complete if I were part of it. He just doesn’t know.”
“And doesn’t want to know.” Lilith bent and scooped the little man into her hand and lifted him to eye level. “Gaebryl. Now. Where is he?” Most often when she’d been summoned, the seraphim met her on the slopes some distance from the cave. Gaebryl guarded his domain with paranoid precision.
Swinging his legs back and forth from the edge of her palm, Crispin said, “He’s not here right now.”
Lilith frowned. “He has to be. He sent for me.”
It was Crispin’s turn to frown and his swinging feet stilled. “Really. Left you a feather and all?”
Lilith held up two fingers.
Crispin rubbed his chin. “Hmm, he said he’d be back by now, but…”
“What?”
The Kyrst ducked his head and then looked back up at her from under the brim of his hat. “If you promise you will never, ever touch my David—”
“Crispin,” Lilith warned.
“Promise.”
“All right. I promise.”
“Well,” Crispin said, his voice dropping into a conspiratorial tone, “he went to Kitai.”
Lilith knew enough to venture that Kitai was the home place of the seraphim, but that was all. Whether it was in another realm or another planet or over the rainbow was anyone’s guess. The only reason Lilith knew of the place was due to Crispin’s penchant for conversation. Preferring the great human cities over the countryside, the little Kyrst had been lonely since they’d decamped from Europe nearly a hundred years ago.
She shook her head. “What’s the deal with Kitai? What is that supposed to tell me?”
Crispin glanced over his shoulder as if he feared being overhead.
“There’s no one there,” Lilith said impatiently.
“He went to Kitai,” Crispin said, “but he left the gate open. In fact, he told me to leave it open.”
Lilith’s heart beat a little faster. “You know how to open and close it?”
“Of course,” the Kyrst said with a note of pride in his voice.
“Show it to me.”
“I don’t think I’m supposed to do that.”
Lilith lifted two fingers again for the number of feathers Gaebryl had left for her. “And I’m late, so that means he’s expecting me. You don’t want to make him angry.” When Crispin didn’t say anything, she added, “I’ll buy you another poster.”
“You’re just saying that because you want something from me.”
“True, but least I’m being honest. Besides, neither of us wants him mad, but if that happens, I’ll take the fall. I’ll tell him I made you tell me.”
Crispin sniffed. “That’s not a story. It’s the truth.”
“All the better.”
“All right then.”
“Good,” Lilith said. “I’m glad we agree.”
“Well, what do you know,” Crispin said, “you’re right.”
He hopped to the ground, and Lilith followed him into the cave.
Tasha dreamed of ice cream.
Dreamed she held a giant cone of raspberry chocolate chip. She opened her mou
th to take a lick, but instead of making contact with her tongue, a huge dollop fell and landed on her bare foot.
She shivered and shook her foot. Something cold and wet dislodged.
Her eyes flew open. She blinked, taking in the golden glow cast by the table lamp and stretched. Her left leg was cramped from being curled underneath her, but her right foot was on the floor. Cold. She leaned forward and looked down to see the damp kitchen cloth she’d placed on Erin’s forehead laying next to her foot.
She looked up to the piled mass of the quilt on the sofa.
Erin was gone.
A cold breeze swept through the cabin and metal creaked against wood.
Tasha jumped to her feet and ran to the open door and peered into the night.
There was no sign of Erin, but the silver Kia remained where she’d parked it.
Pulling the throw tighter around her shoulders, Tasha ventured onto the porch and shouted Erin’s name.
Wolves howled in the distance.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The heavy wooden door to the cabin opened, flashing a wedge of light across the dark porch that vanished when the door closed. Remy faded deeper into the trees ringing the clearing around the cabin and watched a feminine shadow trot down the steps. She paused there; still and intent, turning her head right and left. After a moment, she set off at a slow jog, crossing the clearing and taking a narrow trail into the forest.
Where was she going? And did it matter?
He could solve a list of problems if he simply took Tasha McNeil now. She might protest, but he was good at soothing irate females. His car was parked five miles back down the twisting mountain road at a scenic turnout, but he could use Tasha’s car and come back for his later. He could deliver her to Gideon with two days to spare before the full moon.
Gideon had demanded Lilith, as well. Taking Tasha alone would simply piss off Lilith and make her that much more difficult to handle. Never a good thing with a powerful witch. Plus, it ensured she’d never explain why she’d failed to return with Tasha as she’d promised. Or why she’d retreated up here.
Remy didn’t suppose Gideon gave a shit about the whys and wherefores, but he did.
Damn his miserable soul, Remy cared.
He figured it was only a matter of time before Lilith Darke cut out his heart, dried the hunk of dead muscle and used thin slices of it in her magicks.
Still, he would protect her as long as he could, and she would need it this night.
Weres roamed the mountain.
Strange ones, from their scent. He’d sensed their presence as soon as he’d turned off the highway and started up the twisting, narrow road that led to Lilith’s cabin. His ability to smell wasn’t anything close to that of weres, but he could hold his own, and his years of proximity with the beasts had increased his awareness of them.
After leaving his car and setting off on foot, he’d counted ten or fifteen, a mix of males and females, all hunting on four legs, but there were far more, judging from the howls. Very few weres like Gideon Black were powerful enough that they could shift at will at any time of the month. Most were restricted to the days surrounding the full moon. The span of days in which weres could shift varied from month to month and from one were to another. To have enough warriors who could shift three days away from the full moon, Gideon’s pack must be the size of a small army.
He wanted to believe these weres were simply out for a wild night run in anticipation of the full moon.
Random weres who happened to be in the area.
He snorted at his wishful thinking.
The simplest answer was that they were Pacific Range pack weres sent by Gideon to track Lilith and Tasha. But Remy didn’t believe Lilith had planned ahead of time to go to the cabin, so it didn’t make sense that Gideon would have sent them after the women unless he was covering all bases.
Which sounded like something Gideon would do.
There was another possibility, however. A more direct and logical possibility that had nothing to do with the women. It made apprehension slick cold down Remy’s scalp
Gideon had sent his wolves to hunt Lost Legacy’s alpha, Landelarc Sable, and it was a huge contingent of warriors. Far more than was necessary to bring in one alpha.
After breaking his leg, Lan had left the safety of the Preserve, preferring to heal in an undisclosed location. Even Owen didn’t know where he was. Remy guessed the alpha had a secret den somewhere on the mountain. Lan was an old school werewolf, which meant he spent as much time in the wild and in his wolf body as possible. It was probably practical, as well, since weres healed faster that way.
Remy hoped to hell Lan was back to full strength, because from the looks of things, he was going to need every bit of it before this full moon faded.
Abruptly, the memory of Lan taking his submission not long after he’d arrived at Lost Legacy came back. The dreadful pressure of fangs on his neck.
Afterward, Lan had said, “You are mine now and you belong to the pack, but there is a higher law. One we forget at our peril: follow your heart.”
Being fifteen, Remy had scoffed.
“In the years to come,” Lan had said, “choose wisely, but when wisdom fails—and it will—follow your heart. The taproot of feeling digs deeper than years, defeats all boundaries, and leads us inexorably to the heart of all that is—the ground of being where we are all one. Never lost, ever found.”
The words had meant little then, but things had changed.
Crispin sat on Lilith’s shoulder as she surveyed Gaebryl’s quarters. He’d expanded the headroom of the cave by several feet to accommodate his height and, either by magickal or mechanical means, smoothed the stone surface of the walls until they reflected an elegant sheen. The space was surprisingly cool and dry with one huge chair in the corner. Besides the enormous chair, the only other area that could be identified for seating was the rectangle in the center of the wide space covered by a plush, ornate rug strewn with dozens of cushions. Every few feet around the perimeter of the rug, the space was dotted with low three-legged tables.
Books littered every available flat surface, most of the them leather bound with titles stamped in gold and skinny strips of red satin dangling from the thick spines. Three pairs of spectacles lay stacked on a side table next to the big chair, one of them patched at the bridge with a length of white tape. The other two were each missing a lens.
Four huge white feathers filled a tall, clear glass vase standing by the window.
Which hadn’t been there any other time she’d been summoned. The window, that is.
After all, even for a seraphim, it was hard to create a window in the wall of a cave deep inside a mountain.
It looked like a perfectly ordinary window with a nice wooden sill and four-over-four panes that revealed a lovely landscape of distant snow-capped mountains surrounding a mirror-bright lake. She didn’t recognize the scenery except that it seemed vaguely European. All it needed were a few draft horses and a cheery holiday banner.
She pointed at the window. “Is that the gate?”
He nodded and sighed. “Leaving it open makes me homesick.”
Not opening that can of worms. “So how do I use it?”
Crispin rolled his tiny eyes and sighed heavily. “If it were a real window, what would you do?”
“Lift the sash and climb out.”
“Well, what are you waiting for?”
“And you promise to keep it open?” Lilith asked.
“If my lord Gaebryl can’t open it, you’ll have bigger problems to deal with than a simple portal problem.”
“So not comforting.”
He hopped from her shoulder to the side table next to the big chair.
Lilith walked forward.
At that moment, the window shimmered as if she viewed it through a sheen of heat. She blinked and paused. The image wavered then zoomed to a pinprick-sized circle. Lilith stepped closer and reached out with one hand, feeling for the demarcation l
ine between the room and the gate itself. The tips of her fingers buzzed when she found the spot.
“You should probably stand back,” Crispin warned, but his voice faded.
Everything faded.
A rush of wind lifted Lilith off her feet. She slammed into the far wall of the cave and slid to the ground, dazed. Then darkness consumed her.
Remy walked steadily but quietly. He judged that the weres closest to his location were at least half a mile distant. The urge to run in order to catch up with Lilith was almost overpowering, but weres loved nothing better than a good chase, and he wasn’t about to become their prey. He was generally safe around the Lost Legacy weres, but if he was correct, the ones on the hunt tonight belonged to the Pacific Range pack and had been sent by Gideon. There were too many, though. Far more than Gideon would need even if he’d planned to bring in Tasha, Lilith and Lan.
If Remy went sideways and shifted out of phase, he could move at tremendous speed, but he’d often suspected that weres could track him even more easily that way. Something to do with changes in their vision once they shifted.
The moon was high and nearly full, but it was dark under the canopy of dense pines. His lyr vision helped him see better in dim conditions. He felt his irises open wider, allow in more light. His years on land had made his legs strong, but his endurance was reduced the longer he went without shifting. He needed all his strength this night.
He was afraid for Lilith, but fear gave him an edge, so he encouraged it. Fear made him alert and cautious. Fear helped the lyrinye survive in an ocean filled with predators on a more massive scale than anything a were faced on land.
Despite her powers as a witch, Lilith was human, and in Remy’s lexicon, human was the same thing as weak and fragile. Their bodies broke with terrifying ease. They aged at a tremendous rate in comparison to weres and the lyrinye. Even the small percentage of mortals who were capable of perceiving the greater worlds that surrounded them ducked their heads and pretended they’d seen nothing. Like Tasha McNeil.