by Ann Gimpel
Not that there was even one other shifter in her quadrant of Montana. None she knew about, anyway. Long before the vampire issue surfaced, her kind had adopted—and stuck with—a very low profile. She remembered how things had deteriorated in the Old Country and why they’d left.
Long ago, magic was revered, and those like her objects of respect and devotion. Enter a few priests with fire in their eyes spouting drivel about how magical creatures were devil spawn, and it hadn’t taken very many years—less than a single generation—for everything to change.
She’d escaped burning by the narrowest of margins and stowed away on a frigate not long afterward. Magic hid her presence from the bunch of rowdy men, and she’d helped herself liberally to both food and grog, amused by their speculations about who was taking more than their fair share. When the freighter docked in New York, she’d strolled out on deck and down the gangway, delighted at the shocked expressions on the men’s faces.
When the captain’s outraged shouts about paying for her passage with a pound of pussy escalated into him chasing her, she switched from a saunter to a full-out gallop and concealed herself along the crowded quay. That had been 273 years ago. In all that time, she’d heard so little about vampires, she’d let herself hope they’d remained east of the Atlantic.
Maybe the vamp rumors were why her eagle was so insistent about finding the elder animal who was newly bonded with someone. The bond animals talked among themselves. They’d be furious about the vampire threat. In true animal form, they’d want to act, not sit around chewing the fat. She’d ask the eagle pointblank, but not until they were closer to their destination. Last thing she wanted to do was remind her partner of its earlier exhortations that they had to hurry.
Farmland and prairies flashed past her windshield, and she settled into the mindless place that was part of long road trips. She’d need a spot to land once she got to Colorado, and her old friends Stephan and Marie Lurie would be perfect. She and Marie had exchanged the occasional email, and it would be good to see her again. The more she thought about it, the better she liked her plan. She could leave her things with them, take her eagle form, and let her bondmate dictate their next moves.
After choking down a burger and fries, she spent the night at The Duck Inn, a down-at-the-heels motel in southeast Wyoming. She wasn’t hungry, but she needed fuel and hadn’t wanted to take the time for a sit-down meal. The bed was hard and lumpy, and the room seedy enough, she warded it to be on the safe side.
She was more than a match for anything human, but she didn’t want to have to explain away bloody remains if some thugs saw her as easy pickings. Phone calls and police reports would slow her down—and blow her story about catching a flight for Berlin right out of the water, if anyone in Glasgow happened to tune in to the news.
She should be heading west for the airport in Billings. Her current location in Wyoming was definitely off route. Human intelligence had limitations, but even the dumbest human could figure that out.
After a restless night, she was back on the road at dawn, having stopped for a large coffee, breakfast sandwich, and assorted pastries from a convenient Starbucks. She’d wanted a shower, but the one in her room had black mold growing in every crevice, and it stank to her sensitive nose.
No matter. She could clean up once she reached Stephan and Marie’s. A glance at her gas gauge propelled her into one of the big chain truck stops. At least the weather had been cooperative. This time of year, it could go either way, and she was relieved she hadn’t battled snow, wind, sleet, or hail. Not that it couldn’t happen between here and Denver, but the uncomfortable pit of her stomach tingling when bad weather was imminent wasn’t there.
She crossed into Colorado before she used telepathy to raise Marie. Her visit would be a surprise, and she wanted to give her old friend at least a small window of warning. After three tries, she switched to Stephan.
“Renee? That you?” His characteristic gruffness hadn’t changed a bit, but she could have hugged him. When Marie hadn’t answered, she’d started to worry they’d been casualties of the vampire incursion.
“Yes. Sorry for no notice, but I’ll be there in a couple hours. I’ve been trying to reach Marie, but she’s not answering.”
“No. She wouldn’t.”
An odd undercurrent made her blood run cold. Before she could find a diplomatic way to ask why, Stephan went on. “Hell of a way for you to find out, but Marie is dead.”
Tears stung the corners of Renee’s eyes before they overflowed. She tried to get a handle on her emotions, but great, choking sobs pushed past her resolve. She pulled to the side of the interstate. Crying and driving didn’t mix well. And guilt was a brassy bitch when it teamed up with twenty-twenty hindsight She should have made more of an effort to remain connected with her friend, but something always got in the way.
When she could do something other than cry, she asked, “What happened?”
“Not a tale for telepathy. We’ll talk once you’re here. Two hours, you say?”
“About that. Maybe three if I run into traffic.”
“Be careful. Remain alert. Ward yourself. I assume you’re alone.”
“Yes, I am, but how’d you know?”
“How else?” he replied. “You always are. Not that it’s a curse or anything. I’m alone now too, and I don’t see that changing. Don’t want it to. Marie was the love of my life. The only woman for me.”
His words were simply spoken, heartfelt, resolute. They brought on a fresh spate of tears.
“Do you need me to meet you?” Stephan’s question was laced with concern.
“Nah. I’m almost there. See you soon. And I’m so very sorry for your loss.”
“She was your friend too.” His words were soft before he broke their connection.
“Yeah,” she spoke to the empty car. “That’s the problem. I could have been a better friend.”
All the rationalizations about shifters deciding it was safest to live apart from one another didn’t ease her guilt. She should have visited Marie, spent more time with her.
“Marie could have visited us too.” The bird’s comment came out of left field.
“Thanks.” Renee swiped the back of one hand beneath her nose and funneled the car back into light traffic. She constructed a ward, determined not to fall prey to whatever had killed Marie. Stephan wouldn’t have warned her if it wasn’t necessary.
She followed up on her earlier hunch and asked, “What do you know about the vampire problem?”
“I already told you about a few disgruntled mages joining forces with them.” A rough beak clack was followed by, “They’ve always resented us.”
“I heard that part, about vamps mixing their magic with mage power. And I remember all about how much mages hated us. I was there when they escalated their ire to outright war. It’s been hundreds of years since we migrated from the Old Country, though. In all that time, mages haven’t been a problem. What changed?”
“I don’t know the answer to that.”
Something about the bird’s bitten off reply suggested it knew more than it was letting on.
Renee picked her words with care. “Okay. You don’t know for certain, but you’re very wise and very old”—she laid it on thick—“and I bet you have a few working theories.”
“What do you remember about solar and lunar cycles linked to astrology?”
The question caught her off-guard, and she culled through her memory banks. Where once she’d barely left her house without consulting either the daily juxtaposition of the planets or a tarot spread, she’d grown lax.
Yeah. Chalk it up to my years pretending to be human.
“We’re coming to the end of a major cycle, aren’t we? Like a 900-year one.”
“Aye, that we are.” The eagle reverted to Gaelic. “But not 900 years. You’re confusing an astrological age with something else. There are twelve astrological ages, one for each zodiac sign, and it takes roughly 26,000 years to comple
te a single cycle of twelve ages…”
As she listened, knowledge returned in bits and pieces. “The transitions between ages always cause psychic unrest,” she mumbled. “Which cycle is about to end, and which sign is up next?”
“Not so simple.” The bird’s tone was somber. “We are coming to the close of an entire age. Pisces is on its way out after a rocky 2000-year tenure. Aries is up next, which isn’t promising.”
She started to ask why not but bit back the words. It was simple enough to figure out. Aries was ruled by Mars, god of war. It was a fire sign, hence volatile as fuck.
“What can we do about it?” She closed her teeth over her lower lip, biting hard to still a case of runaway nerves.
The bird hesitated so long, she was afraid it wasn’t going to answer. Finally, it said, “The other animals and I believe metaphysical backwash is responsible for the mages suddenly deciding now was the time to lash out. Vampires have always been bastards. They live for mayhem and sowing the seeds of chaos.”
Her navigation bot, a Brit with a to-die-for voice told her to take the next exit.
“That clarifies the why part—” she began.
“I know nothing for certain,” the eagle broke in.
“All right, so maybe it clarifies why. Can we do something about it, or are the psychic forces at play too powerful for us to fight against?”
“That remains to be seen, but it’s why I must join forces with the lion.”
“That’s who is newly bonded? You never did say which type of animal.”
“Yes, but not just any lion.” Pride threaded beneath the bird’s words. “This is the first lion shifter. It’s a cave lion, and one of the wisest of us all. It has sought a bondmate for eons, but your numbers have dwindled until shifters are in danger of dying out entirely.”
She murmured sympathetically. She didn’t agree with the eagle about shifters hovering on the brink of extinction, but it had a tendency to overdramatize things. A far more likely explanation for the cave lion remaining mateless was it had been waiting for just the right shifter, one with extraordinary power, to bond with.
Two more turns, and she pulled onto the long drive leading to Stephan and Marie’s ranch. It would always be Stephan and Marie’s to her, and she hoped for ashes where she could pay her respects.
By the time she reached the sprawling farmhouse and parked off to one side of the yard, people had piled out of the house. She recognized Stephan and his niece, Sarai. The dark-haired, brown-eyed shifter with Sarai looked vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t place him right off the bat.
Stephan yanked her car door open and scooped her onto her feet and into a hug. “It’s good to see you, Renee.” He was such a big man, he made her feel small crushed against him. His hair was still ice blond and his blue eyes crinkled at the corners.
The tears she’d thought she was past flooded her eyes again, and she hugged him back. “I’m so sorry. I wish—”
“Hush. I know. We all miss her.”
Sarai’s red hair fell in a single queue down her back. She pried Renee out of Stephan’s arms and embraced her too. “I want you to meet my brand-new mate.”
“Mate, is it?” Renee glanced at the dark-haired hunk with greater interest. “I know you, don’t I?”
“Aye, lassie. That you do.”
Renee laughed. “Even if I forgot you, Niall, which is unlikely, I’d never forget that sexy Irish brogue. Congratulations to the two of you.”
“Thanks.” Sarai smiled warmly, her blue eyes aglow with love.
A clatter from the front porch was followed by, “Morning, all. I really should get moving. No reason to take advantage of your hospitality.”
Renee disentangled herself from Sarai and fell headlong into acres of broad-shouldered, long-legged man. Blond hair was cropped close to his head and keen blue eyes perched above defined cheekbones. A high forehead and squared-off chin added to his allure. Faded jeans rode low on his hips, and a worn chambray shirt was only buttoned partway.
He was quite possibly the most striking man she’d ever seen. She realized she was staring but couldn’t help herself. Before she had a chance to correct the bad impression she must be making as a tongue-tied fool, her eagle shrieked, “It’s the lion. The lion.”
Amid the protest of ripping fabric as her clothing turned to shreds, the bird forced its way through, flying around everyone’s heads in a broad swathe and cawing like a mad thing.
Great. Fucking great. Whoever Mr. Handsome is must think I’m a green, newly-minted shifter who can’t control her magic.
Yeah, and any chance of him being interested in me as something beyond an object of derision and pity just flew right out the window.
The analogy of flying out windows and her eagle form struck a black humor note. If the bird wasn’t using her vocal cords, she’d have laughed.
“It appears your bondmate is acquainted with Jeremiah’s.” Stephan grinned broadly. “Bond animals, I swear.”
“Can’t live with ’em, can’t live without ’em,” Sarai agreed, adding, “Sprinkle some of that Aquarius charm around, Renee. Might calm your eagle down.”
Renee didn’t bother to point out that a bond animal who was spun out enough to force a shift wouldn’t be amenable to much of anything. The next circle around the group of shifters was tighter, and she wondered what the eagle was up to. Before she could issue a sharp suggestion to get itself under control, it divebombed the blond god, did a flip midair, and ended up perched on his shoulder, talons digging deep.
She’d thought her embarrassment couldn’t get any worse.
She was wrong.
Chapter 3
A Day Earlier
Jeremiah ended up helping Niall with the last of his moving after all. He’d slept for almost twelve hours after getting home. Luck had been with him. The other mages were still asleep when he’d shown up, so he’d been spared telling them about the miracle of his bondmate. Likewise, when he’d finally woken midday, the nine mages he shared a rambling Victorian with were either at work or off running errands.
If anyone had been home, he’d have told them about the lion. The information would have burst from him, impossible to keep under wraps. Perhaps the goddess was watching out for him, offering a small island of solitude until he got a better handle on his unexpected magical boon.
He grabbed a fast shower and a snack and left, planning to swing by Stephan’s farm. His bondmate had imparted important information the previous night, perceptions he wanted to bounce off shifters who had some miles under their belts.
He’d been painfully honest when he told the cave lion he needed a crash course in being a shifter. Nothing titrated. Nothing held back. The lion had chuckled and suggested the following day would be soon enough for such a gargantuan endeavor.
His phone trilled when he was nearly to the interstate. He considered ignoring it until he checked the caller ID and saw Niall’s name. The jaguar shifter restated his earlier offer, and it sounded better after a decent night’s sleep. Jeremiah had turned the car toward Glenwood Springs and traded muscles for knowledge over the hours they crammed everything Niall couldn’t part with into the farm truck. Once the items was loaded, Sarai talked him into coming home with them.
As soon as he agreed, she offered to drive with him. Jeremiah figured it was the lure of the Corvette, but she had a different ulterior motive. They hadn’t been underway ten minutes before she pried his birth information out of him and used her phone to access an astrological program. By the time they got to her uncle’s farm, she told him she’d sent his chart and solar return to his phone.
“Thanks. I’ll need you to interpret all those runic symbols, though. I knew them once, and quite well, but I’ve grown rusty.”
Sarai turned a million-watt smile his way. “No worries. These modern computer programs come with at least a lay explanation of all the major points. If you want anything in greater depth, ask away.” Her grin widened. “I knew you had to be a Leo
sun sign, with a whole lot of Leo scattered through your chart. Sag rising and a Scorpio moon make you a force to be reckoned with.”
He chuckled. “Chloe always said I was hardheaded. Must mean kind of the same thing.” He got out and went around to open her door.
“Come on in,” Stephan called from the porch. “Dinner’s ready. You can unpack later. Or tomorrow.”
“I like the sound of that.” Niall slid down from the truck’s high cab. “Thanks for letting us use your pickup. Made this easier.”
“Anytime.” Stephan crooked two fingers. “Wash up and let’s eat.”
Jeremiah figured dinner had been ready for hours since it was pushing nine at night. He tucked into a savory lamb and vegetable stew, delighted to have a home-cooked meal.
Stephan waited until he was done eating before saying, “Niall and Sarai told me about the lion. How’s it going?”
The question may have sounded rhetorical, but it deserved a thoughtful answer. “My new magic will take a whole lot of getting used to. I don’t want to bring shame to my new bondmate—or myself.”
“The lion wouldn’t have picked you if it expected you to fall short,” Stephan said gruffly.
Rather than addressing his considerable set of concerns about his new magic, Jeremiah said, “Last night, I asked it about the vampire problem.”
Niall furled both dark brows. “Aye? And what did it have to say?”
“Several things. I was actually on my way here when you nabbed me earlier today and pitched your case about needing my back rather than my brains.”
Stephan tipped the flagon of red wine into Jeremiah’s mug and murmured, “Sounds like thirsty business.”
“Thanks.” Jeremiah drank deep and focused his next words on Sarai. “Part of this will be right up your alley. Apparently, we’re near the end of a full cycle of astrological ages. When one age merges into the next, there’re always supernatural shock waves, but it’s heightened by a factor of ten at the close of a complete cycle.”