by Ann Gimpel
“Hmmm. All the bond animals, means the shifter half too. Right?”
“Unless you’ve come up with a clever way to separate us,” the bird snarked back.
Marshaling forces in an all-out confrontation might not be such a bad idea. At least it would bring things to a head quickly. She started to dig deeper, but the eagle must have been monitoring her thoughts because it said, “You’re wrong too. Just like the lion.”
“Why?”
The eagle clacked its beak sharply together. “It’s not like it was before we crossed the sea. Vampires are not concentrated in a single location. If we use maximum force on one bastion, the other vampires will go to ground.”
Renee understood the problem. Vampires weren’t alive. They required blood to function at an optimal level, but they could enter a sort of stasis where they required nothing. Not blood or air. Certainly not food since they never ate anyway. If they were spooked, they could sequester themselves in spots where no one could find them.
Worse, if mages holed up with them, goddess only knew what horror would emerge. Her distrust of the mage who’d bonded with the cave lion roared to the forefront.
“I don’t like any of this.”
“Nor do I. It’s why I didn’t protest when you flew away.” The eagle soared higher before diving to scoop up a hapless mouse, crunching tender bones with its sharp beak.
She considered winging her way back to Stephan’s, turning the car around, and going home. She could smooth things over at work, spreading magic about as she layered new lies over the old ones. Her co-workers would believe her, no matter how fantastic her story, but how could she turn her back on her kinsmen? The vampire problem wouldn’t go away. Neither would the asshole mages who’d thought it was funny or smart or some twisted form of divine justice to lend their power to darkness.
Her next question came hard. “Did you sense the lion had been corrupted? Turned to evil?”
“No, but I fail to understand why it joined its star with a mage. Not when it could have had its choice of any shifter.”
Renee chose not to remind her bondmate of its earlier assertion that there were no shifter candidates to form new bonds with, because they were dying out. “We need to go back to Stephan’s house. I want to pay my respects to Marie if I can. Once we’re there, we can figure out our next moves.” She paused for a beat. “Are you finished talking with the lion?”
“Probably not, but for now I am. It believes the animal portion of the shifter bond should be in charge of planning and executing our offensive. That approach won’t work.”
She’d gathered as much from the eagle’s earlier comment about everyone shifting and launching a major offensive. It was exactly the type of thing they would have done a few hundred years before, but the exigencies of living in the twenty-first century meant shifters spent very little time in their animal forms. The cave lion probably wasn’t aware of that.
Annoyance cut deep. The lion might be ancient and powerful, but those two elements didn’t excuse it from taking how things worked now into consideration. Shifters hadn’t fought in any kind of organized fashion since the tail end of the mage war. No general worth his salt dragged rusty troops forward without honing them into an efficient unit.
Maybe the lion assumed the animals would follow its lead blindly, but those days were over too. The human half of the shifter partnership had controlled the relationship for so long, it was rare for a bondmate to insist on ascendency like her bird had done when it forced a shift in Stephan’s yard.
She was deep in thought, flying mindlessly in the general direction of her car when a dizzying wave of magic rocked her. She snapped out of her reverie fast, scanning the tree canopy below.
“What the hell was that?” she asked and draped warding around them.
“I don’t know.”
Another blast of magic battered her. To her horror, they were losing altitude. Her wings were still flapping, but something was wrong with the air. It wasn’t solid enough to give them purchase. She flapped harder, but it made no difference. The bird sank faster than before.
It feathered its wings and latched a talon around a passing evergreen bough, catching it handily and averting their plunge to the earth beneath them. Breath puffed through her beak in little panting gasps, and she tightened her talons around the branch to establish a better grip.
“We need to shift,” the eagle said. “If I can’t fly, I’m helpless. We’re better off in our other body.”
She reluctantly agreed, but the top of a fir tree was nowhere to finesse a shift. Heart pounding, she eyed a lower branch, let go of the first one, and dropped. Two more branch trades put her in reasonable position to shinny down the tree. If flying was off the plate, maybe her magic wouldn’t shield her from a fall, either.
No matter. She could downclimb from her current perch. The unpleasant magic that had sucked lift out of the air seemed to have left. Even if it wasn’t gone, it was leaving them alone. Once she was human, she’d see about casting a teleport spell.
More than one way to skin a cat.
If she had enough magic—and it didn’t backfire—she’d use her home as a focal point and worry about collecting her car later. Plan B was returning to Stephan’s.
One step at a time. First, she had to shift. Once she had arms and legs, she’d work her way out of the tree. Her magic was sluggish, slow to heed her call. Its laggardly response shot her anxiety into orbit. Getting stuck between forms was serious business and could easily mean her death.
She forgot about business as usual and pulled power as hard and fast as she could. When feathers ceded to skin and hair, she exhaled noisily. Goddess be damned. If it was this hard to shift, how the hell would she manage to teleport once she was on the ground? She stopped thinking. It was counterproductive. Bark scratched her skin, drawing blood as she shinnied down from her perch. She didn’t trust launching travel spells from trees. Something about their energy wasn’t a good match for teleporting. She’d gotten tangled up in a tree spanning several worlds once, and it had taken her days to find her way back to Earth.
It wasn’t an experience she was eager to repeat.
She was bleeding from multiple abrasions when her bare feet connected with the rocky dirt beneath the tree. Out of habit, she thanked the fir for being steadfast. It paid to acknowledge the natural world.
An icy wind made goose bumps rise along her exposed flesh. Wishing for clothes, she started to divert magic to heal her scrapes, but it wasn’t wise. She needed every fragment of power at her disposal, and she’d burned through bunches shifting. Wasting what remained would be foolhardy.
“Get us out of here,” the bird screeched.
Renee knew better than to waste time asking why. After the bird’s strident warning, she felt darkness bearing down on them too. The perfidious air that hadn’t been thick enough to keep them airborne was suddenly so dense it made breathing difficult. Her skin prickled unpleasantly, and she shivered from more than the forty-degree ambient temperature.
She threw her magical well wide open and visualized Stephan’s house. It was closest, and this would be nip and tuck—if it worked at all. The air shimmered, glistened, and then blew back at her like an errant rubber band, slapping her hard across her entire body.
She yelped but made a grab for her spell, determined to make it work.
Maniacal laughter battered her from all sides, growing ever louder. She tried once more to escape, but this attempt was weaker than her first had been. At least the backlash wasn’t as severe.
Footsteps pounded toward her. She might not be able to teleport out of here, but she could fight. Renee redirected her failing power and spun in a circle, determined to mete out as much damage as possible before the fuckers who had her in their gunsights killed her.
A noxious stench joined the unnaturally dense air. Rotten, dead smells that burned her nostrils and twisted her stomach into a harsh knot.
Vampires.
Nothing e
lse smelled quite so putrid. She swallowed back bile. She could puke later—if there was a later. Her thoughts flitted to Marie. Was this what happened to her? Poor, gentle Marie was anything but a warrior.
Two vamps trotted into view and then two more approached from the other direction. Light on their feet, they were garbed in modern clothing. No robes for this crew. All had luxuriant dark hair and the ungodly beauty characteristic of their race. They might be fuckers, but they were beautiful fuckers with chiseled planes in their faces. High smooth foreheads, squared-off jaws, arched cheekbones, and the barest hint of dark stubble.
Being Hollywood gorgeous made it easy for them to lure and immobilize prey. She was staring, as caught up in their hypnotic draw as the greenest human would have been.
She ground her teeth. She knew better, goddammit. Ripping her gaze from hot masculine perfection that oozed sex appeal—if you didn’t have to smell them—she raised her hands and let power flow from her outstretched fingertips. Small flames jumped the gap between her and the vamps but fizzled before reaching them.
She tried harder. Directed more power, but with the same lack of results.
One of the vamps stepped forward, focusing liquid, dark eyes on her. “You can keep it up until you drain your magic, which would be fine except we don’t have time to wait for you.”
“Or you can come with us straight away,” another vamp, this one with silvery eyes, cut in. “If you don’t turn this into a pitched battle, things will go easier for you.”
“Come with you? I don’t think so.” Renee stood tall, excruciatingly aware of her nakedness. Beyond glomming onto handy veins, vampires’ second favorite pastime was fucking.
The first vamp shrugged and made come-along motions with one hand. “Fine. Keep on lobbing power. We’ll humor you for a while.”
“We can do this,” the eagle said. “I’ll help.”
Five more volleys convinced her she didn’t possess enough power to break through whatever was warding the vampires. Not that she could have done much more than make their lives mildly uncomfortable, but her efforts were truly meaningless, even with her bondmate’s help.
“Keep going,” the bird exhorted, punctuating its words with a screech.
“No point. We’ll fritter through all our magic for nothing.”
The vampire with dark eyes furled his brows. “Are we done?”
“For now.” She tried not to be obvious about panting, but she was scared and out of options. Swathing herself with phony aplomb, she turned abruptly and walked away from the four vampires wondering why they didn’t come after her.
Her answer materialized in twenty feet when she ran into an invisible barrier that packed an electrical wallop so strong she landed on her ass. Scrambling upright and dusting dirt off her butt, she switched to her psychic view. A blackened perimeter had fused to the network of ley lines. The casting had mage stamped all over it, and she cursed the goddess-blasted one who’d bonded with the lion—and all his kin.
Highhanded fuckers.
Doing her damnedest to hang onto a few scraps of dignity, she turned slowly and crossed her arms beneath her breasts. “It’s a sin against the goddess to pervert the ley lines. Their energy is the glue that holds Earth together. What do you want with me?”
“Pfft. We never cared about your stupid lines. Or your insipid rules. Phase one of our experiment is complete,” the silver-eyed vampire said.
“I don’t understand what that means,” she retorted. “Or what it has to do with me.” She scanned the sky, furious Gaia hadn’t burst from the heavens to punish the vampire for sacrilege.
Except things never worked that way. She’d never met any of the gods or goddesses. For all she knew, they were the purview of myth and not real at all.
“It means we understand how to augment our power from the mage side of your magical line. We’re moving up. Many of us desire an animal form to morph into.”
A raucous shriek from her bird nearly deafened her.
Another vampire, this one with sky-blue eyes, grinned, displaying very white teeth—and fangs. “I heard that. Birds are natural companions for us.”
She swallowed hard, a tough job since her throat was dry as a dust-choked plain. “Why might that be?”
“The strongest of us have always been capable of flight.” The creature leered at her.
Renee’s stomach lurched sourly. She’d heard rumors about vampires flying, but never believed them. One thing was certain. She’d kill herself before she allowed these brazen bastards to turn her into an Auschwitz experiment. Maybe she could get them talking. If she could divert their attention, perhaps she could blast her way out of this mess.
She’d only get one chance, though.
“That’s really interesting, about you flying,” she murmured.
“We thought it would appeal to you,” blue-eyes said.
You have no idea.
“It does,” she purred. “I sense mage power clinging to you, yet there are no mages here. How did you manage that?”
The one with dark eyes sidled close. “Fools. They opened their magical centers to us. Once we were linked, we wedged the channel open.” A harsh laugh blasted from between his chiseled lips and he shrugged. “They’re ours now. And so is their power.”
She held onto a bland expression with everything in her. What she wanted was to howl her outrage to the skies. She might distrust mages, but they’d been duped, mesmerized by vampire mind control. Poor stupid fools. It served them right, but even they deserved a chance to make a better choice.
“Steady.” The bird breathed the word into her mind.
She sucked air into uncooperative lungs. Her bondmate was right. She could save her bottomless fall into horror and outrage for after she was safe.
If that ever happened. Escape felt remote, but she couldn’t give up.
“I had no idea you were so strong.” She delivered as close an approximation to a fetching smile as she could manage. The vamps were so egotistical, they’d probably buy it.
“She appreciates us.” Silver eyes strode to her side and wrapped an arm around her.
His touch gave her the creeps. She had to move fast, or her antipathy would bleed through and her seat-of-the-pants plan would never work. She glanced from one vampire to the next. “You were just teasing about being able to fly. Right?”
The dark-eyed one walked close enough to thump an index finger against her naked breastbone. “We never joke. It’s not a vampire trait.”
“Well then”—she held her ground and hoped her unsteady voice wouldn’t give her away—“come fly with me. I love company in the air, and very few shifters are birds.”
Without waiting for them to answer, she summoned shift magic, gratified it was more responsive than it had been transitioning from bird to human. Before her wings were fully feathered, she launched herself into the air—air that mercifully held her this time—and cawed merrily.
Would they fall for her challenge? If they did, it would divert enough of their magic, she could make good on her escape.
She hoped.
In her experience, arrogant bullies couldn’t resist a contest to prove their talents. She engaged in an aerial ballet, dipping, diving, banking, even doing forward and backward flips to entice them to join her. They’d said some vampires could fly. What if none of these four were included in some?
After a heart-stopping pause where nothing happened—but at least they didn’t snare her in magic to force her back to earth—she felt the same harsh jolt of power that had driven her to abandon her eagle form. Except this time, it wasn’t aimed at her.
She flew another circle eight, keeping an eye on two of the vampires who’d leapt skyward. Rather like ungainly bats, their flight lacked elegance, precision. They might be airborne, but it looked neither natural nor comfortable. No wonder they wanted a bird to bond with.
The thought galvanized her into action. The eagle had been ready for her next move, though, and added its consid
erable ability to the mix. She’d no sooner visualized Stephan’s farmhouse than the transport magic swept her into its maw. She slammed the magical back door hard to ensure the vamps couldn’t follow her trajectory and forced herself to keep breathing.
The darkness characteristic of teleport spells ceded to light almost immediately. She scanned what was forming around her with anxious eyes. Had she succeeded? Or had the vamps subverted her spell and drawn her right back into their midst?
She shifted before her feet touched down and grappled for the small dirk she always wore attached to a thigh sheath. A magical accoutrement, it survived shifts, vanishing when she was a bird and reappearing when she was human. It wouldn’t kill a vampire, but she could plunge it into her own breast.
Blinking hard, knife at the ready, she willed the mist around her to part.
“Renee!” Sarai’s shout was the most welcome sound she’d ever heard.
Arms closed around her, and she fell into the wolf shifter’s arms, not quite believing she was safe.
“Safe for the moment,” the eagle corrected her. “Nowhere is safe anymore.”
Chapter 5
Jeremiah was behind the wheel of his Corvette and partway down the long driveway when magical turbulence caught his attention. Stephan, Niall, and Sarai had chastised his bondmate nine ways from Sunday once he’d shared its ideas. Listening to them, he had to admit they’d floated some solid points.
Aside from a few heated snarls, the lion had remained silent throughout the discussion.
Still figuring things out, feeling his way as a newly-minted shifter, Jeremiah was headed back to Silverthorne to include his kin in a strategy session about how they approached the mage-fueled vampire dilemma. Renee hadn’t returned, and the others were worried about her protracted absence.
He was too, but not enough to stick around for a second session with the sharp side of her tongue. He braked hard and spun the Vette around in case the others needed him. He was close enough, he had to check out the volley of power. It had been too potent to be accidental.