by Kat Bastion
Skorpius stared at her, expression hard. “Let’s assume the now-sentient timeline agreed and carried out your wish. My body only refuels with darkness, the blackest places in your world, in mine.”
“Till now.”
He blinked in surprise.
“’Tis the same as with the feast you manifested. And the emerald dress you’d fashioned. And the bed we’re lyin’ upon. You wished the items into existence. Only, I wished bigger, asked for us to continue to be undetected, and for you to be replenished.”
“Simple as that.”
“Aye.”
Interesting. “It would seem your powers are endless.”
She dinna know what the limits of her abilities were. But when she found her peace at the bottom of her private loch and asked with full expectation of what she needed, her magick had granted the few requests she’d made.
Skorpius sucked in a sudden gasp of air. “The timeline thread just snapped taut.”
“Because of what I’ve done?”
“No.” He gave a headshake. “If your actions had tripped the tether, its vibration would have woken me the moment you altered the energy stream. Something else just happened.”
Brigid leaned up and pressed her lips to his in a soft kiss. “Our time alone is up then.”
Eyes driftin’ closed, he touched his forehead to hers and sighed. “So it would seem.”
A memory flash prompted her to stand from the bed. She stepped forward while drapin’ herself in her golden gown of magick, then stopped at the perimeter to gaze at the colorful lights streamin’ beyond their protective sphere. And as she stared out into the vastness of the timeline, some thread within her own breast tugged. “I wonder if…”
“Do you see something?” Skorpius’s warmth pressed against her, the delightful softness of his wing tucked around her shoulder.
“Aye. A ‘vision’, akin to what you’d said before.” At least, the vibration seemed more real than a mere dream. Closin’ her eyes, she chased after the image, which hovered right on the fringe of her awareness. Something important. A heavy feeling of danger. Of destruction.
But as elusive as the wisp of a dream, the fragment vanished. “I canna remember many of the details.”
“What do you remember?” Warm hands rubbed up her arms, then held her shoulders in firm support.
She leaned back against his wall of strength. “Smoke clouds my eyes, burns my throat. There’s a putrid stench. And strongest of all, I feel…heartbreakin’ sorrow.”
“Emotion registers with greater impact than any other.”
“And that draw pulls at me again. I’m to go to the place within the vision.”
A wee bit of energy rippled out from him, as if he’d both physically straightened and mentally alerted. “Any idea where?”
“Nay. But I do know when.” Odd, though. ’Twould seem to lead us into the future.
Not odd at all. We’re playing in the timeline. Reason dictates all time-points are fair game.
Fair game? Or a trap. “For our hunter to lure us.”
“Which would be his first mistake. We’re not prey.” Skorpius wrapped his arms around her, embracin’ her from behind while they stared at the brilliant lights. “We—you and I with our combined powers—are an adversary unlike any he has imagined. And when we choose to encounter him, we will have the upper hand.”
She agreed. For her power surged strong, filled her to overflowin’. And still, her magick, the timeline, and the elements themselves offered up more. All she had to do was ask.
And Skorpius’s power seemed to have altered as well. Stronger. Darker, mayhap. And yet, akin to her magick, it appeared to be evolvin’ into somethin’ far greater.
“Into the future,” he repeated as he tore his gaze from the lights to stare down at her. “When?”
“Nigh four months forward, whence we’d left the glade.”
Skorpius stepped forward and clasped her hand with a firm grip. When she glanced at him, she found he’d already dressed: black leathers over his legs, weathered boots on his feet.
Intensity sparked in his blue-green eyes. “Then, shall we? Seems we’ve got a date, four months forward.” Your lead. He gave her a nod to proceed.
As she alone felt the pull of the event, the vision. She alone had the power to pinpoint the “when” of their destination. Unable to sense the actual location, instinct had her direct that choice into someplace familiar: their glade.
Closin’ her eyes, she latched on to the powerful emotion and the time of the vision. Then akin to her holdin’ the reins of a runaway horse, they vanished from the environs of their protective sphere and flew directly through the ether while she gripped Skorpius’s hand tight.
The colorful streams from their energy were replaced by utter blackness, as before.
Harsh forces tugged once again at her senses, but she held her calm and arrowed along her chosen pathway.
Till, with a bright flash of light, they stopped.
Cold ground solidified beneath their feet.
A cloudless blue sky stretched above, the sun hangin’ halfway down the western horizon.
The glade encircled them—covered in a blanket of untouched snow.
With her verra next fresh breath of her Highland home, a tight sensation gripped within her chest. The shock of pain had her gaspin’ for air as she glanced up at Skorpius in alarm.
Then her whole world blacked out.
Chapter 32
Skorpius dropped to his knees to catch Brigid as she collapsed.
An unexpected pulse of energy had blasted into her the instant they’d arrived. And its percussive force had knocked her unconscious.
Brigid. A gentle mental tap, in the event her psyche had been traumatized.
No response came.
The timeline tether within him snapped taut, then vibrated at higher frequency.
More forceful, then. With a burst of magick, Skorpius shocked her system, shooting enough volts through her to restart an elephant’s heart.
Brigid’s eyes popped open and her lips parted as she gasped for air.
But responsive? Not so much. An unseeing silvery gaze stared off toward a distant horizon. Then she climbed out of his embrace without any recognition of his existence there, her awareness clearly elsewhere.
No other being nor any energy manifested into the snowy glade with them. Only a rippling echo of some higher vibration, a communication.
Your vision.
Rapid breaths assaulted her as she faced northwest, stared off toward some distant place. Tears streamed from her eyes. Magick snapped and crackled in an aura that undulated around her, golden and hot.
Instinct warned it inadvisable to interfere with Brigid in her altered state, yet she appeared tortured. And based on the way the timeline thread vibrated in urgency, whatever she currently viewed—possibly what she’d envisioned before but couldn’t recall—had vast importance to their mission. Captured in the moment, the information it yielded could give the two of them the upper hand.
So Skorpius reached out to her once more.
Only in a far different manner.
From down in the well of his soul where his dark angelic source-magick flowed, he drew upon its elemental energy. Then he addressed her through the magick, in multilayered voices, words dripping with power.
Ancient Brighid, Bride, Exalted One, goddess of nature, healing, creativity, and justice. What do you see?
His Brigid might not be able to detect Skorpius or any other material-realm constructs, but their magick—each originating from angelfire, unique, and connected from their bonding—recognized like kind.
And in response to his magick words, the golden energy that sparked around her brightened.
But she did not turn to face him.
Nor did she voice a reply.
Instead, a three-dimensional vision appeared between them for Skorpius to see for himself.
Yet the particles that conveyed information to him were mor
e than any mere image. Brigid displayed a full translation of an actual event as it played out, much like Cass had done in his realm’s strategy hall. Echoes of the original permeated through into their space and time, not only with sights, but also faint sounds and smells.
And within the small village that Brigid viewed, chaos reigned.
Humans in plain clothes raced in every direction between dozens of thatched huts, eyes wide with terror. Bloodcurdling screams were suddenly cut off, somewhere out of view. The stench of death grazed his nostrils. Their heavy despair clenched at his heart.
Snow covered the rooftops and ground, old-growth forest fringed the community, but no clear landmarks gave any clue as to its locale. Their village could be anywhere.
With a roaring bass rush of sound, a bluish white flame streamed over the scene from above. The magickal flame burned so hot, everything in its path was incinerated in an instant. Only blackened matter remained, leveled to the ground. Small particles of ash drifted up on the breeze.
Silence followed, eerie and absolute.
The scene evolved as their lens pulled up then flew high above the destroyed village.
A beat later, untouched dry earth appeared, a well-traveled road fringed by tall pines to protect from snowfall.
Their view zoomed down to focus on a bright flash over the road. Then scorched earth began to appear, script flowing from left to right, as if a flamethrower had become a pen and the turf, its author’s page.
Where one scorched word ended, another flowed forth. Until together, they formed an ominous smoking message: Become mine. Or the child serves in your stead.
On the patch of ground beneath the three-dimensional vision, the deep snow vanished.
And the roadway message expanded from the vision into a life-sized depiction on their own ground.
Brigid’s unfocused attention drifted down from the horizon and stared at the copy of the message in their time and place. Her gaze began to sharpen, growing more lucid.
Then the vision dissolved.
Brigid sucked in a quick gasp. She wrapped her arms around her middle, breaths shallowing. Then she shot a distraught glare at Skorpius. “What child?”
Two strides forward, and he enfolded her into his embrace. “I don’t know, Brigid. But we will find out. Together.”
“Aye.” Tipping her head to his shoulder, Brigid choked out a ragged sob. Struggled to steady her breathing. Clutched fisted hands to his back with preternatural strength.
Skorpius endured her frustrated venting, becoming her rock amid the turbulent storm. And he clung to Brigid in return, forcing calmness into his shaky breaths. For he’d plunged right to the depths of anguish and fury with her. Because the powerful emotions vibrating through that vision had nearly overcome him.
They had been summoned. The way ahead, clear.
But the horrific message, from the destruction to the scorched earth, had been sent to her. Therefore, the path forward remained hers alone.
His task? To support. Guide, if requested.
And the sedate, but still vibrating, dual tethers agreed.
After a long moment of comfort in each other arms, Brigid straightened, then pulled away. Expression fierce, she stared up at him, then she glanced toward the northwestern horizon again. With her full faculties in the here and now.
She clasped his hand and drew him forward. “We’ve no time to waste. To the ocean.”
Skorpius matched stride to hers. “That’s where the pull is leading you.”
“Mayhap, ’twas all along. But we’d been four months too early.”
When they merged with a shadowy game trail, they released their handhold and Skorpius partially dematerialized to stride alongside her. Or we were right on time. And you needed to evolve; all the events up to this point needed to transpire.
Indeed. She gave a nod, as if accepting the rightness of the fated theory.
At a fork in the path, she paused.
“Unsure of the direction?”
“Nay. I’ll no longer be travelin’ by foot.”
She closed her eyes, and a peaceful calm washed over her expression.
Skorpius materialized before her, then placed gentle hands on her shoulders. “I’d recommend against wasting your magick to transport there.”
Face tilting up, she opened her eyes and her gaze searched his. “We’re needin’ to be there now.” She fisted a hand over her heart. “The tether in my breast vibrates with great urgency.”
While his pair vibrated no dire threat at all. Which meant all remained as it should with his mission. Regarding her well-being and the timeline’s.
Even so, they didn’t need her to risk any further energy depletion. The moment they’d stopped generating heat from their sexual encounter—as he’d slept…for hours—she’d begun to expend energy. By sustaining the energy sphere. In transporting them into their future glade. While receiving a vision, then transmuting it into its three-dimensional representation.
“We’ll go another way.” Skorpius stared hard at her. Her lead. His suggestion.
The moment meaning broke through, her eyes brightened. “The mistin’ through trees.”
Exactly. “You’ve climbed them, hugged them, and passed out against them.”
Heat sparked in her silvery eyes. “And tupped in them.”
Fighting a smile at her inclination toward humor in the crisis situation, he gave her a tender kiss. “Might as well travel through them.”
“While becomin’ one with them.” One with trees!
The childlike joy in her spirit struck him with a heady warmth. Right in that widening fracture of his heart. He stepped back, flaring his wings wide. “If you’re ready to learn.”
The golden energy of her gown shimmered as she spread her legs shoulder-width apart and balanced on the balls of her feet. “Aye. I’ve been ready from the start.”
“And already you’ve learned how along the way.”
“I have?”
“More energy—”
“—less matter,” she murmured.
“You’ve already mastered the skill. Now incorporate it with travel. Remain half within your realm, and half out.”
“But…how does that not expend energy? How is that not usin’ my magick?”
“When you relax back into pure energy, you’re no longer needing power to remain material. All beings’ natural state is energy. To become a part of the ether requires less energy, not more.”
“Aye…” She gave a slow nod, as if searching within and sensing the rightness of it.
Before he thought to suggest the first step, she halfway dematerialized on her own.
A beautiful golden mirage stared back at him. The copper ringlets that framed her face rippled on an unseen energy current, as did the shimmering edges of her gown. Eyes of paler silver sparked joyful with her magick.
Then she faced northwest and stared off into the distance. After a beat, she glanced back at him, brows raised in question. Her golden aura shimmered upward a fraction, as if she bounced on her toes with anticipation.
Skorpius dematerialized, then floated slowly by her. Movement is similar to time-jumping. Visualize your destination.
Where I’m to go. She stared a few feet ahead at an open patch of snowfield, then her body floated over it.
But small segments at a time. You have to have a definite picture of what exists to go there.
With another sightline, she traveled another short distance above the snow.
That’s it, he commended, moving beside her.
How do we gain speed? she asked as she veered toward a copse of pines. She paused before a wide trunk, then floated on through it. Then she kept a steady pace, slipped one by one through each next tree.
Concentration. He floated with her, attention both ahead for himself and toward her, to monitor her progress. Keep your focus on your desired path. The faster you want to go—
—the farther ahead I’ll need to track. Her golden shimmer shot far a
head, then disappeared.
Adrenaline firing hot, he flew after her. Never lose focus of your path!
In seconds, he spotted a golden streak streaming through the forest.
I’ve…got…my…focus. The slow words proved her point.
Good. He gave her a wide berth, but paced slightly ahead of her. I’m right here if you—
Race you! Her golden streak flashed out of sight.
Skorpius’s chuckle vibrated through the ether. She alone felt the pull, knew their direction.
Silence followed.
But the intense tension of Brigid’s focus? Remained.
As Skorpius chased after her, great relief coursed through him.
Because they’d had other options for speedy travel, which he hadn’t mentioned. But gut instinct and the calming tethers had directed him to slow her path.
She needed the distraction of a new challenge to calm her emotions, to ready for the fight ahead.
And limited as Brigid’s need for him had become—the dual tethers all but going dormant—it soothed his fractured heart to still guide her in any way he could.
For even though no change had taken place with him on the outside—he remained immortal, even though he’d warned himself as much as he’d cautioned her—he felt a marked shift within. The evolution Orion had detected? Perhaps. The difference in him that Brigid had sensed? Possibly.
But with a heavy heart, he admitted to himself that something even graver had happened. Impervious dark angel, outcast of his kind, sworn to never become vulnerable again…had fallen.
Absolutely.
Irrevocably.
Terminally.
For no future lay ahead.
Should it be deemed Brigid live? He’d have no place in her world.
If events required her death? He’d be utterly destroyed.
With a resigned sigh—even as he sensed her joy while “mistin’ through trees”—he cast out one last directive, toward her, to himself.
Focus on what we have the power to control. Let worry afflict the weak-minded.
Chapter 33
Brigid drew in a deep breath, burstin’ at the seams with unbelievable joy.
I’m mistin’! she called out to Skorpius.