“You,” he said again, an edge to his voice. “You, pequeña , it has to do with you. The serpent priesthood have broken faith with Alexi and with the Jaguar Kingdom in protest against your — your place, in the kingdom. And Alexi —” she heard him make a frustrated noise, muffled, as though he’d covered the phone. Then she heard him breathing again. Just breathing. She held on to that sound, because the rest of the world seemed to be falling away from her.
She cleared her throat. “I understand, Seshua. What do we do now?”
He laughed, but it wasn’t a happy sound — not an entirely sane one, either. “How could you possibly understand? We kept you in the dark since Russia, in spite of Kal’s reports on your progress, in spite of the pressure from other kingdoms.” His voice was rising, Emma’s grip tightening on the phone.
“Now word has spread that you healed the wolf princess, it’s obvious to the greater kingdoms that you are well within your power as Caller of the Blood, but we cannot allow you audience with any of them and I knew that if I told you, you would demand to see them, because you are not a coward. But I cannot allow it. Not until we know.”
“Until we know what it means that my powers were awakened by Alan and not by a shapechanger,” she finished for him. “Until we know the consequences of awakening the power with the blood of a vampire.”
“Yes,” he said, and his voice cracked. Emma knew somehow that he wasn’t with her, that in this moment he was back in Russia, coming toward her through smoke and rain and fire, seeing her broken body cradled in Alexi’s arms.
Had to snap him out of it.
“Look, Seshua, you can remind me later to kick your ass for keeping things from me, but right now what I need to know is why you’re sending guards to me when they’d be better off defending you from whatever the serpent priesthood has cooked up. Hmm?”
Could have sworn she heard Seshua snap his teeth together. Then a quiet growl. “Pequeña …”
“What?”
A sigh. Then, voice pitched low, he said, “I am sending them to you because they are my best, and I do not want them here.”
Okay, now she was convinced he really was crazy. “You’re telling me you’re sending your best guards here to protect them? ” Seshua growled, responding to her tone. She cut him off before he could speak. “You don’t think the palace stands a chance of defending against the serpent priesthood, is that it? Seshua what are you going to —”
“I am going to protect my kingdom, Emmalina, for that is what I was born to do. If you want to be of use, then do not tell my finest warriors that they were sent to you for shelter and not to shelter you.” He paused, waiting for her to interrupt, but Emma’s mind was racing away with her and she barely heard what he said next. “It can’t hurt, of course, to have them there should the serpent priesthood find a way to breach the ranch. But if that happens —”
Emma came back to Earth. “That can’t happen, not possible.”
“But if it should. Let my warriors fight. And let them protect you, do you hear me?”
Not wanting to give him the satisfaction of her compliance, Emma stayed silent. Let him stew for a bit.
Jesus, what was happening over there, in Central America, the seat of the Jaguar Kingdom? And where was Alexi? What were they facing, that the Jaguar King was pretty much evacuating the palace? She knew Seshua wouldn’t tell her. He was protecting her, too. The only reason she’d gotten this much out of him already was because of guilt — his guilt over not being able to protect her in Russia.
Even before she was taken in Russia, Seshua was protecting her; though at first when they’d decided to go to the Russian wolves — against his wishes — she’d thought he was simply jealous of her, not wanting anyone else to have access to his most powerful “asset.” She hadn’t thought about it much since — other, harder things to think about, and try not to think about — but this was the longest conversation they’d had since he went back to Central America after escorting her home to California. Most of their conversations had been about finding Alan, thereby finding the poor creatures he was experimenting on. Emma had become more and more frustrated the longer they went without any solid leads on where to find Rain’s brother, Storm.
Without wanting to, she remembered how he treated her when she asked him to complete the ritual with her, to awaken her powers and allow her to save Katenka. Giving him what she’d thought he wanted all along — access to her full power — but instead of gloating or elated, he was kind. And she’d realized that he would have been content to have her never fully awaken. To keep her as a power in his arsenal in name only, a status symbol and sometimes perhaps a threat, without her having to sacrifice her humanity and her autonomy. To give her as much freedom as he could, while trying to protect her at the same time.
“Pequeña . I have to go. I’ll be in touch with Kal.”
“Seshua?”
“Emmalina —”
“Don’t die. I’ll never forgive you if you do.”
He made a speculative and very male sound in the back of his throat, and Emma squeezed her eyes shut, half of her mortified with embarrassment, the other half pretending not to respond to that sound.
“I will keep that in mind. ” Then he was gone.
Gone, Emma suspected, to war.
5
She was in the kitchen shuffling through leftovers in the fridge, trying to find something that sounded good to her poor, shriveled stomach, when Red Sun stomped up onto the back porch. The screen door squeaked in protest as he pushed it open and let it bang shut against the frame.
“I appreciate the effort you’re making not to sneak up on me, but Felani hates it when you guys let the screen door bang shut.” Emma closed the fridge door.
Shrugging out of his leather jacket — like everything else Red wore, the right sleeve was turned in so that it didn’t flap loose — Red huffed a laugh. “Tries real hard to be normal, doesn’t she? Mundane.”
Emma smiled. “Like you do?”
He grinned back. “Touché, flower.”
“Don’t call me flower,” Emma said automatically and without conviction. She lowered her voice. “I need to go to into town.”
His gaze flicked past her, to the dining room, then back. “We got about seven minutes before the guards get back with more guards. They aren’t gonna want you off the ranch, you know.”
She thought of Seshua telling her he was sending them here for their protection more than hers. “I know. I still need to go into town. I’ll be super quick, I just need to check the post. Enable me?”
Red put his jacket back on in one muscular, fluid motion that Emma gave herself permission to appreciate, snapped the front flap closed to keep it in place, and held his hand out to her. “You’re gonna be in trouble when you get back if you aren’t quick enough.”
She took his hand; his grip was hot and comforting, and his power made the back of her teeth hum just a little. “You’re the one who’s taking me. You should get in trouble too.”
“Kiddo,” he said with an arrogant lift of one brow, “Who’s gonna bring me to task?”
“Felani?”
“Good point. Let’s get this done.”
Emma closed her eyes, felt the world begin to run away beneath her like a receding wave, and then Ricky’s voice jolted everything back into place.
“Are you Travelling?” His voice thin with disbelief.
Red Sun managed not to swear, but Emma heard the growl he had to stifle. She opened her eyes to see Ricky standing in the kitchen doorway — worse, Fern was behind him in the shadows of the dining room. She swallowed down the guilt and breathed out.
“We were meant to go into town today, Ricky, but the guards will never allow it now that we’re on high alert. I just need to get something quickly from the post and then we’ll —”
“Of course the guards would never allow it!” Ricky looked ill. “We’re on high alert. That’s kinda the point. What the hell could you need that badly?”<
br />
Red Sun snarled for real this time, and Emma’s entire body flushed with gooseflesh. Not the happy kind. She squeezed his hand. “Can you just trust me on this Ricky? It’s important.” She held his gaze, certain he’d understand. “It’s important to me.”
“No!” It hit Emma like a slap. She went cold. Ricky laughed, once, without humor. “It’s important to me that you not die, Em.” He turned his outrage on Red. “How can you let her do this?”
“Ricky…” Fern’s voice was pitched low, and Ricky made no sign he’d heard him.
Red’s snarl made his voice vibrate. “She is safe with me. Who the hell do you think is the big kahuna here, with Telly gone?”
Ricky stabbed a finger at Emma. “Her!” He was breathing hard now. “And she knows better.”
The snarl died in Red’s throat, and somehow that was scarier — Emma felt his energy coil. “You are crossing a line, Ricardo.” His voice was so deep it didn’t sound human. Emma felt like she was encased in rubber, knew she should do something, couldn’t figure out what with Ricky looking at her like that. She had the sudden humiliating realization that she was about to burst into tears.
Fern stepped up next to Ricky, angled a gaunt shoulder in front of him. “Let me go with you,” he said before Ricky could say something else. Emma couldn’t read the look in Fern’s glittering black eyes. Ricky snarled, lips coming off his teeth, and Emma knew she was about to lose it, for the second time this morning, damn.
She had to get outside, get space.
“I have to go,” she said, and started to back away. Hit Red Sun, who still had hold of her hand.
“Let’s do that,” he said darkly.
Then Emma’s feet hit gravel and she skidded, grabbing Red’s arm, feeling the world spin around her. She couldn’t see yet, but that would come; closing her eyes helped. She could smell trees and car exhaust and Red Sun, and a car honked at them as it rushed by too close to the roadside layoff where Red had landed them.
The sob lodged in Emma’s throat like a fist, and she knew if she opened her eyes she would break down. Red Sun dislodged his arm from her grip and wrapped it around her. The smell of leather and pelt and male sweat enveloped her, and there was just a hint of motor oil, and it reminded her so much of Telly that she bit down against a quiet scream and then let herself cry against Red Sun’s massive chest until she was hoarse. She’d learned since Russia that sometimes the tears simply could not be denied.
When she was done, she stepped back, scrubbing her face with both hands until she noticed Red holding out an old fashioned red plaid handkerchief. She almost didn’t use it — it was the source of the scent of motor oil, although it had obviously been washed — but her face was a mess and she knew it. Red was kind enough to pretend to scan the roadside area and the treeline beyond while Emma cleaned her face, blew her nose, and stuffed the handkerchief in her pocket.
Red turned to face her when she cleared her throat. His eyes, usually deep brown, were gold, his face a little wider and more symmetrical than usual. It was the closest she’d ever seen him come to the change. Emma blinked; the air at his right side shimmered, where his missing arm would have been.
“You look at me with fascination,” he said in an impossibly deep voice. “Do you not remember seeing me changed in Russia?”
He seemed calm in spite of the evidence that his beast was eclipsing him. Though the pattern of his speech was different too — no contractions, the easy drawl gone — and when he’d spoken, Emma saw his teeth were bigger. A lot bigger.
She shook her head. “My memories don’t clear up until after we got to the safe house.” Of course, she remembered everything right up to the moment the ritual was complete and her power awakened, but except for a few important details, the only person she’d told the whole story to was Felani. “So you’re telling me I saw you changed, know what you are, but I’ve forgotten it. Damn it,” she said with feeling.
Red Sun laughed, flashing fang, but when he blinked down at her his eyes were brown again.
“C’mon.” He started walking in the direction of the general store, which was just a few minutes down the road. The roadside layoff was rarely used, but even if someone had been here to witness their arrival, Red was one of those shapechangers old and powerful enough to have a knack for messing with people’s minds. Of course he had his secrets too. Emma knew that “shapechanger” wasn’t all he was.
She fell into step beside him. “Since I should already know what you are, I think it’s only fair you tell me.”
His low chuckle dashed Emma’s hopes of an easy answer. “Give you a clue. Want it?”
“Hand it over.”
“Ha! Okay. My beast’d be right at home here in these California woods.”
“Red, you surprise me. I never pegged you for a squirrel.” This time his laugh startled birds from the surrounding trees.
Good job, Red, Emma thought. He’d distracted her, given her time to recover that she wouldn’t have given herself. But the confusion and hurt were still there.
“At least we don’t got to hurry,” he said, sighing. “Cat’s outta the bag. They know we’re gone, and where we are.”
That was true. And they’d never get back before the guards now, not after being delayed at the ranch like that. “That’s gonna be a fun conversation with the new guards.”
Red grunted. Emma thought of asking if he knew anything of Seshua’s motivation for sending his warriors. Red seemed confident of the ranch’s safety; there really was no chance the extra guards were needed.
Off the ranch it was a different story. Going into town was always a risk. Not a huge one, especially not with Red Sun as their backup plan, but he always came with if Emma insisted on going out on the regular trips for supplies. And she always did. Had to get off the ranch sometime. Remind herself there was a world out there, a normal one.
She was probably never going back to that normal world, the world where people didn’t know that there were magical races with incredible powers and cultures and hierarchies all their own, but the occasional change of perspective felt necessary. Felt a little like when she took the horses out to ride the trails through the mountains — walking in the crisp air, seeing a horizon that wasn’t the treeline visible from the ranch porch, feeling a road beneath her that could take her anywhere.
It was about having a purpose that wasn’t an obligation. She loved the shapechangers, she didn’t regret what her life had become. But she missed her Aunt Chase and hated lying to her, and she missed being part of the world. She wanted to do something. She wanted more.
That’s how you ended up in Russia, at Alan’s mercy, a small voice inside her said.
She squared her shoulders. Thought of Katenka, finally healthy, no longer dying, leaping into the form of her white wolf in a blinding flash of light. The wolf princess might be dead by now if Emma never pushed to go to Russia. There were other things, too, they wouldn’t know if not for Alan abducting her in Russia — like what had happened to Rain’s pack.
Alan wiped them out searching for Emma. Except he didn’t wipe them all out — he captured some of them, to turn into senseless and unstoppable killing machines, because he was a terrifying sociopath and had been alive too long to have held onto his sanity.
She and Red Sun cleared a bend in the road and the main street of the town came into view, with the general store at the head of its neat line of shops. There was a mechanic’s shop over the ridge, at the bottom of the hill, now run by Zach’s apprentice the five days a week that Zach stayed at the ranch with Rain. Two days a week — today was one of them — Zach was in the shop, but for security reasons they never went in to visit him. He’d stay the night at his own house, spend the next day making sure his place wasn’t falling apart and then head back to the ranch. He never showed any sign of resenting the role he’d come to play in Rain’s life.
His feelings for Felani might have had just a little to do with that as well.
Emma start
ed to walk faster, eager to get to the store, and then all of a sudden there were black spots in her vision and she stumbled to a halt. Red caught her up against his side.
“Breathe, flower.”
She was trying. “Everything’s spinning but you.” More deep breaths. Finally she could look up at Red, but it still felt like all the blood in her body was rushing in the wrong direction. He narrowed his eyes at her, nostrils flaring.
“You eaten today?”
Emma let her head fall forward against Red’s considerable bicep. “I had Tylenol for breakfast?”
He swore under his breath. “All right.”
A few shaky minutes later they were sitting on a bench out the front the general store — Red perched on the back of the bench, Emma on the seat with feet planted firm on the ground — eating peanut butter crackers and sipping boxed juice. Emma felt better and worse. Better with a little food in her stomach, worse because the numb, nervous energy was draining out of her body, leaving her exhausted but able to think clearly.
Thinking clearly was bad. There were some bad things to think about, like Seshua and Alexi going to war, and Ricky and Fern…hating her. Fern because she was responsible for his crippling depression, Ricky because she hadn’t made things right with Fern or — something. She didn’t know. It was like she didn’t know either of them, now. Maybe they felt the same way about her.
“Might wanna ask Anton what’s up with Ricky lately,” Red Sun said.
“Was it that obvious I was thinking about it, or did you just pick that out of my head?”
Red crumpled his juice box, pitched it into the trash can. “I’ve seen you hide what you’re thinking from some of the scariest fuckers I’ve ever met, and unlike some of those scary fuckers, I cannot read minds. But when you ain’t afraid or fighting for your life, your face is an open book, sweet heart.”
He said the last just like that, two words — sweet heart. It made her curb her first sarcastic response. Instead she got up and walked to the trash can. She was pretty sure Red had charmed his throw before; the can was too far away to make a shot.
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