by Sara M Zerig
“Just leave her there?! In the Shifter Realm?”
“The First Dwelling is our ally, not our enemy.”
“That could change,” Aidan challenged. “And with the right concentration of magic, we can destroy those wards. We helped create them!”
“And if our daughter is anything but happy and healthy when we see her, we shall,” Cara agreed. “Aidan, even if she loves this shifter—”
“Impossible!”
“—she could still come back to us willingly. We are her parents. This is her home. At some point, she will want to know her family, learn of her heritage, and develop her talent.” Cara let him think on that a moment before adding, “But she will not come on her own if she thinks we mean to keep her from this shifter.”
A knock sounded at the study door. It was Aaron, she knew, arriving for his shift over the mirrors. Her husband was not rational yet, but he was getting there.
“In truth, I could not transfer myself right now either,” Cara admitted, “but if I spend some time in meditation, I may be able to soon.”
The door opened wide enough for Aaron to poke his head inside.
“You!” Aidan stabbed a finger in the air in Aaron’s direction. “Follow up on this lead from the elders. I want to be sure the people who did this are gone.”
“And you!” Aidan pointed at Cara.
She arched a delicate brow at him. “Pardon?”
Aidan dropped his hand and took a moment. After expelling a deep breath, he managed, “If you can carry yourself through today, go without me. Chloe should not be left to believe we are not responding.”
He stormed out, and Cara did not have to ask where he was going. While she found peace meditating in her garden, her husband’s peace would come from destroying things in the protector’s training field. She stood to greet her son and pulled the shifter correspondence out of the air, bringing it into physical form.
Ushering Aaron out of the study, she said, “Walk with me to the garden. I will explain.”
It was a beautiful morning. Char had dropped the top of her luxury convertible to soak it all in. Bright and colorful flowers were blooming, birds were singing, and magic … magic was in the air. She could feel it.
She had booked the outrageously expensive meditation session in hopes that opening Chloe’s mind would, in turn, open her gifts. Witches and warlocks wanted to believe that humans and realmless were incapable of any kind of magic. Truly, the Coven Realmers were capable of the most impressive magic. But Char also knew that a trained mind—even a human mind—was capable of much more than the purebloods realized. Ambition and discipline could accomplish great things.
Yes, magic was afoot this day, and opportunity was ripe for seizing. Char pulled up to the curb in front of the brick townhome, where her daughter and her witch freeloaded. It would all pay off soon enough.
Char stubbed her toe on the first step, pulling her foot back with a curse. She inspected the shiny patent leather pump. Scuffed. Ah well, she had plenty of shoes. She reattempted the stairs.
Ouch! Char stepped back, her toe throbbing like she had kicked the concrete. She balanced on one heel a moment until the pain receded, eying the step. She approached it cautiously, lifting one foot well above it before testing again.
The air was like a wall, as solid as the cement step, but nothing was there. She brought a hand forward tentatively and met the same resistance. The barrier went up as far as she could reach. Char slowly walked the sidewalk toward the end of the home, her hand gliding along the invisible wall as she went. She turned back to test the other direction. Her hand dropped forward where the resistance ended, right where her townhome met the neighbor’s.
“Mom?” Nikki’s deadpan call drew Char’s attention to the open window where her daughter stood. “Whatcha doin’?”
Char was torn between questioning her daughter and running like hell. She composed herself. “Tai-chi.”
Nikki nodded slowly in response, as though she was placating a lunatic. Char mustered a smile. “Is Chloe in there with you?”
Her daughter frowned at the question, shaking her head no.
“We have the massages and meditation today,” Char reminded her. “Is she on her way?”
“Shi—,” Nikki caught herself mid-swear. “We totally forgot. She’s out of town with her boyfriend.”
“Boyfriend?” Char sputtered. “Since when does Chloe have a boyfriend?”
“Since Friday night. Come in—I’ll dress fast.” Nikki moved away from the window.
“Nikki!”
Nikki paused mid-turn.
“Chloe has a boyfriend as of Friday, and she’s left town with him?”
At her daughter’s unhelpful shrug, Char pressed. “Have you met him?”
“Yeah, tall, dark, and muscular. I’d leave town with him, too.”
Warlock. Char used the very real panic she was feeling to feign concern for Chloe. “This isn’t funny, Nikki! Did she say where they were going?”
“Back to his hometown to meet his family. I’ll go get dressed and be right down.”
“No, no, it doesn’t work that way! We were booked for three people. I’ll have to reschedule now,” Char insisted as she rushed back to the car.
Tires squealed as she took off. A few blocks out, though, she eased off the gas and willed herself to calm down. She needed to think carefully through what she knew for sure.
However she was found, a warlock had come for Chloe and taken her home. But why cast a spell around the townhome after the fact? Why protect the home if she was no longer living in it? The spell kept Char out but not Nikki, so it was cast specifically for a realmless. Nikki’s blood was too diluted by Earthen blood to register as anything but human.
The fact that Char wasn’t dead or captured meant the Coven Realmers either didn’t know she existed or didn’t suspect her as the abductor. It was unlikely, then, that Chloe was discovered through Lee or Seth—either of them would have gladly given up Char. Chloe could have been stumbled upon by a pureblood. Any pureblood could discern that she was a witch. Any pureblood who knew the St. Cyrs might even recognize their features in Chloe. The odds had to be a million to one in a realm this size but not impossible.
And what could Chloe possibly know? Even if she learned of her fantastical heritage, did she have any reason to suspect Char? The witch could not even tell the difference between other purebloods, humans, and realmless. She would have to be trained to develop those senses. If Char never saw Chloe again, theoretically, Chloe would never be the wiser.
Pulling up to a red light, Char tapped her manicured nails on the steering wheel, panic subsiding. She needed answers. But she wasn’t going to get them in the Earthen Realm.
Seth meandered through the still busy marketplace of the Shifter Realm with head down and ears open, a weak cloaking stone in the pocket of the shifter-style linen pants. The sun was descending, and vendors would be closing soon. He hazarded the trip hoping to hear something of his father’s death, even while knowing it was unlikely that anyone cared. Lee had lived invisibly there. Within minutes of his arrival, though, Seth had taken in more than he cared to hear.
It was Lee who helped the realmless. Thank the ancestors they are both dead.
Took his own life. Coward.
No one would have known, if not for Wisp.
Wisp. The old shifter female was believed to commune with the dead and, apparently, had revealed the abduction of the St. Cyr witch. A realmless was said to be dead, too. Could Char have passed without Seth sensing it the way he had sensed Lee’s death? He picked up his head then and scanned the crowd.
The white gauze robe all but glowed for him a short distance away. Ignored by anyone not looking for her, Char moved through the crowd methodically, no doubt on the same fact-finding mission as Seth. Same old tricks.
Char turned as he approached, their identical blue eyes meeting. She was unsurprised to see him. “Seth, darling, you look well.”
“A
nd you look alive,” he noted, “which means some other realmless took your place.”
“Apparently so! And some time ago, I’ve heard. Generous girl.”
Seth eyed the evil woman, neither amused nor angered by her commentary. She was who she was. He had accepted this long ago. “Who?”
“Didn’t you know her? She was said to be your father’s girlfriend,” Char said. “Julie.”
Seth looked away from Char, the pieces falling together for him. Something about Julie’s sad story seemed to resonate with Lee when Seth shared it, but the two loners had never met. Wisp may well walk in the spirit place, but she was notoriously short on details. Lee must have used that to his advantage for Seth’s sake.
“Oh, don’t look so sad, Seth,” Char chided. “Your father did a noble thing.”
Seth glanced about, acutely aware that his cloaking was not as sound as his mother’s and that even hers didn’t grant invisibility. They continued to pace slowly along the edge of the marketplace. He asked quietly, “And the witch has been found?”
“It would seem so.”
“You think you’re in the clear.”
“I think,” Char replied tightly, “that we have a mutual interest in keeping each other apprised of any news. Remember, Seth, if I’m safe, so are you.”
Chatter picked up around them, the voices excited.
This cannot be true!
It is! The St. Cyr witch is mated to a shifter.
Seth and Char came to a grinding stop, sharing a mutual look of awe.
“Ohhh,” Char cackled softly. “Now things are getting interesting.”
Chapter Sixteen
Night had fallen, the Shifter Realm sky turning a deep navy blue. Chloe stood with Ritt, Colton, and Dane at the entrance of Colton’s home. Her birth parents were expected to appear or respond at any moment. Colton had brought with him the “correspondence box” that, as best as Chloe could tell, was email sent through magic.
Elders from eleven of the other dwellings supported the First Dwelling’s position of protecting her mating to Ritt under shifter law, Dane told them. The other four expressed concerns over creating tensions with the Coven Realm unnecessarily. Ritt was, after all, an Earthen shifter and not of this realm. Dane and Colton acknowledged they would have preferred unanimous support but determined it was enough to send word to her parents, Aidan and Cara St. Cyr.
“It’s been over an hour,” Chloe said to no one in particular. “Why haven’t they answered?”
A faint white glow appeared then, hovering above the ground. The shimmering light gradually formed the image of a woman. Fully materialized in seconds, the petite lady appeared dressed in a white gown of crepe-like material with a full skirt that met the ground. The modest neckline was adorned with small crystals. White spun hair was pinned into a thick chignon at the nape of her neck.
Chloe left Ritt’s side and stepped forward. Unless Chloe also had a sister, this had to be Cara St. Cyr. Their features were so similar, except for the eyes. Cara’s eyes were strikingly silver. Chloe would have thought her to be blind, but her birth mother was inspecting her in return. The glittery glow around Cara evaporated.
“Sweet magic, it is you,” Cara breathed, tears shining in her eyes. Awe, hope, and anxiousness were all one bundle of shared energy around them. “There is so much to say. You are well? You look well.”
“Yeah,” Chloe answered. “Yes, I’m fine.”
Cara searched the faces of the shifters standing behind Chloe. Singling out Ritt, she said, “You must be the Earthen shifter?”
“I am.” The sound of Ritt’s deep voice in this life-changing moment was like an anchor for Chloe. It will be all right, she found herself thinking, without that other voice in her head to confirm it this time.
After a brief, indifferent scan of Ritt, Cara addressed Dane. “Dane, is there somewhere that my daughter and I can speak in private?”
Dane led Chloe and Cara back to a den within Colton’s home then left them to wait with Colton and Ritt outside. The room was minimally furnished and only dimly lit by the glowing crystal sconces mounted to the walls. Cara turned a slow three-sixty, and the glow increased, brightening the room.
“That is better,” Cara said, taking a seat at a grey wooden table in the center of the room. “Your father wanted to be here.”
Chloe hesitated, eyeing the sconces, then she also took a seat at the table. “But he couldn’t make it? Through the wards?”
Cara’s face fell just a fraction, but her voice remained strong. “I am afraid not. Not yet. But he is trying.”
“I can’t leave Ritt,” Chloe blurted then. “I love him.”
“All right,” Cara said simply, as though she had anticipated Chloe would say as much. There was an ease to Cara’s presence and a positive, but formidable, vibe all at once. “You must have questions.”
Chloe started with the most obvious one. “How did this happen?”
“You were stolen from us,” Cara answered smoothly, prepared. “But we did not know it until recently. I was not conscious when you were delivered, and I was alone. We had been deceived into believing you had died at birth.”
“But wouldn’t there be a …” Chloe avoided the word body, “some evidence that I had died?”
“For our kind, when we die, we do not leave a corpse as humans and shifters do. Our bodies disintegrate to ash, and the ash is carried away on the wind into the spirit world.”
Our kind. Chloe took a minute to process that. “Then how do you know people really died if someone else doesn’t see it happen? How do you know that person didn’t just … go somewhere else?”
“Blood relatives sense each other. I would have been able to sense you in the Earthen Realm, had I been awake when I delivered you and held you in my arms. But I went into early labor unexpectedly, and the trauma rendered me unconscious. I was alone. While miscarriages are rare for witches, it was the only reasonable explanation.”
Although she was outwardly calm, Cara’s heartbreak filled the room as she recalled the labor. Chloe swallowed through a lump in her throat. She re-focused on her questions. “Why did they take me?”
“We suspect the criminals thought they could raise you as their own and somehow use your powers but later realized they could not.”
“So then … why not just give me back?”
“They were likely afraid of the consequences. We also believe they are now deceased,” Cara told her. “But until we are certain that the people responsible are no longer a threat, it is important that you and your loved ones—anyone that could be used to get to you—are safe. If you give me the names and addresses of those closest to you, we will ensure their protection.”
Cara waved a hand, and a pad of paper and pen appeared on the table between them. Chloe took the pad and jotted the short list: her parents and Nikki. She slid the pad back across the table to Cara.
“This is all?”
Chloe nodded. “I have other friends from school, but no one close like Nikki. Alan and Margie are my adoptive parents.”
Cara waved away the pen and paper with her hand, and her tone softened. “Tell me about your adoptive parents.”
“My mom was a teacher, and my dad worked in advertising, but they’re both retired now. My dad inherited some property when his parents died, and he sold it to pay for my college and help supplement their retirement. They travel a lot. They were older when they adopted me, so they can be hard to relate to sometimes, but their hearts are always in the right place. They’re good people.”
Cara’s eyes misted a bit. “I am glad to hear that.”
“When can I see them again?”
“That is a good question,” Cara said, brow furrowed. “Any visits to the Earthen Realm should be carefully planned. I will discuss it with your father.”
“But I will be able to see them again?”
“Of course,” Cara assured her. “These people cared for you when we could not. We are indebted to them.”
<
br /> Chloe was relieved it wasn’t an outright no. It was one less worry for her. She regarded her birth mother curiously, noting her elegant gown, her perfected hair, and her formal speech. She looked more like a medieval princess than a witch. “They—the shifters—told me that you’re a … well, a …”
“Witch.”
Chloe let out a relieved breath, glad Cara had said it first. “And so that makes me one? A witch?”
“Yes. There are some negative connotations for witches in the Earthen Realm, I know. But among other realms, we are renowned for our integrity, as well as our powers.”
“It’s just that I don’t feel like a witch,” Chloe said. “I can’t do what you just did with the lights or the paper.”
“Neither could I if I had not been schooled in magic,” Cara told her. “But it is a simple spell, really.”
“So, you do cast spells.”
“I do.”
“Do you fly?”
“Fly? No, I do not fly.”
Do not stood out to Chloe as being different from cannot. “Could you? If you wanted to, I mean? Could you cast a spell and fly?”
A smile played at Cara’s lips. “I have never tried. I suppose I could, but it would be a bit like … training a bird to ride a bicycle. There is not much need for it.”
“Oh.” Chloe blushed. Of course. Why fly when you can turn into a glowing ball of light and just appear wherever you want?
“All witches and warlocks are born with a talent,” Cara offered, “and the strength of one’s talent is part heredity and part training. The talents vary, but witches are generally classified as healers or seers, and warlocks are either seers or protectors. I am a healer. Your father and brother are protectors.”
“I have a brother?”
“Yes, Aaron. He is four years your senior and looks just like your father.” Cara spoke fondly, proudly, of her son. “His talent is unique. He can call to the skies and bring about storms of every kind, drawing the energy into his hands.”