Summon (Rae Wilder)

by Penelope Fletcher

  Head cocking, the shifter’s ears twitched.

  “Alec.” The censure in the fairy’s voice irked me.

  “Rae’s in trouble,” I said, brusque, annoyed I had to rush before they forced my hand into making good on my threat. “The Loa have her.”

  The shifter began to Change. I grimaced and averted my eyes.

  Sometimes nature’s concept of beauty can be so twisted.

  Retching, I painstakingly ignored the gruesome popping and cracking sounds of the shifter transforming from animal to human, but the fairy watched enraptured. She shivered when the intense heat from his body warmed the surrounding air, and the smell of musk and magics thickened, overwhelming the moist fragrance of the grasslands.

  The Alpha, Alec, I thought, completed the Change crouched and panting. Sweat covered his sleekly muscled body in a light sheen. “Follow me,” he ordered, tone gruff. He grabbed the petulant fairy by the hand and yanked her after him. “Maeve, my own, how many times must we discuss why attacking creatures twice our size is bad?”

  “Do not growl at me. I spent my entire life dealing with Lochlann and Breandan’s overprotection.” As she dragged off her cloak, her chin lifted. “I am a Battle Maiden, and have the power to accept the High Priestesshood should I choose.” She thrust the clothing at him.

  “I’m aware,” Alec muttered tying the moss-coloured fabric around his hips. “You must learn to pick your battles.”

  She squealed in outrage and struggled against him when he took hold of her again. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  I trailed after the pair, incredulous. Not an ambassador, but a Claimed mate. Disgruntled, I blocked their argument from my mind. I wasn’t accepted because I was half human yet the Tribe risk the birth of a fairy-shifter hybrid from this union.

  Why the double standard of blood proud dogmatists momentarily flabbergasted me, I’d never know.

  I couldn’t be less interested in the collection of shabby huts the shifters called home. What had my lids lowering in interest was the Horde of goblins sharing a meal with the shifters around the Pride Heart.

  Unlike the Wyld Heart, a sacrosanct place of concentrated magical essence, the Pride Heart was a bonfire that never died. Even I know the lore behind its creation. It had been a gift from the fairy High Priestess Sorcha to the neighbouring Pride before the Rupture, and before relations between the species of demonkind were complicated by, well, me.

  A shifter female thrust her face into mine. Her brown eyes fairly sparked anger. “You’re the white witch’s father?”

  I made a moue of distaste and eased back. She smelt … musty. “Ana is my daughter.”

  “She has my sister.”

  Ana acquired a Familiar? How antediluvian. “I care because?”

  “My father lost his life protecting that gods forsaken Wyld because of your mommy issues.” She itched her head, and I wondered if she had fleas. “The least you can do is make your offspring give my twin back.”

  “Nimah,” Alec barked, ending his fussing with Maeve. “Amelia chose to stay with Ana. Back off.”

  “Whatever you command, oh, mighty Alpha.” Nimah stormed off cursing.

  Alec shrugged.

  I lifted a brow. “I’ve heard Alphas are far less forgiving of such flagrant disrespect.”

  “Her father was my predecessor. She grieves. She’ll calm when her sister returns. Besides, I see no point getting ruffled over cross words spoken in the heat of the moment.” Alec glared. “Which is why I choose to forget your threat towards Maeve rather than order the Pride to attack.”

  I nodded, placating, uninterested in his concern for his female and his attempt to regain the upper hand in the confrontation when he knew I possessed the power to flatten him and his Pride until nothing remained but scorched earth. “Goblins?”

  Alec spared a glance at the rabble. “A delegation on their way to the Wyld.”

  “Curious,” I murmured. “Why?”

  “They meant to attend the Meet where we discussed how to get rid of you,” Maeve said.

  I smirked, wondering if the goblins were from the Horde Gwendolyn’s Nest raided. “This Meet went well?”

  She stared. “I dislike you.”

  “I’m devastated. Can’t you tell?” I dismissed her and turned to Alec. “You’ll help?”

  “You haven’t explained what’s going on.”

  I summarized, downplaying my involvement in keeping Rae safe to spare the curious prodding into my change of heart.

  A change I struggle to comprehend myself.

  Alec still went there. “You don’t hate her anymore.”

  “My emotions are not up for discussion.” The iced undertones underscored the statement. “Are you coming to find Conall or not?”

  He focused on the middle distance. Nodded determinedly. “We go with you.”

  Maeve gawked.

  “Rae left the safety of the Wyld to travel to the vampire city she fears for him.” Alec bobbed his head in my direction. “Whatever she’s started, I mean to help finish.”

  “But he–”

  “I know what he’s done. He’s asking for my help to save Rae. The animal in me senses lies, and he’s not. That’s enough for me.”

  “Why do you want to go after her so much?” Maeve asked, guarded. “She has Breandan to defend her. He will go after her, Alec. He probably left after we did.”

  I wanted to argue Rae’s supposed life mate had been absent, and from what I gathered he was the reason she tottered at the brink of destruction, but I held my tongue.

  It’s not as if I never coaxed Rae to the brink then shoved.

  “Eve, my own, she’s my friend.” He lifted her chin with his finger. “Rae isn’t proud. She doesn’t have the air of superiority that makes it difficult for others to care for the fae. She’s real, and I love that.” Alec looked thoughtful. “I love her like my own flesh and blood. I’d make her Pride in a heartbeat if her own didn’t want her anymore.” He thumbed her jaw. “Understand?”

  Maeve frowned. “I care too, but she’s dangerous.”

  “She needs people to accept her for who she is. So few are willing to do so.” Alec released her. “I’m going. I want you to come with me, but I’ll understand if you don’t.”

  She grabbed his hand and laced their fingers. “Of course I’m coming. Someone must keep my brothers ripping you apart when you turn up with him.”

  Alec’s nostrils flared. His head swerved to the enormous goblin approaching us. “Lorken. This is–”

  “I know whom he is.” Lorken eyed me then focused on the Alpha. “Humans camp not far from here. Roaming free after what they did to Runt, to all demonkind. The kidnappings. Sick experimentation. Torture. The murders. Yet you gave us grief when we came.”

  “I let Samuel and his peaceful Clerics camp on Pride territory as a favour to Breandan. I’m trying to rebuild our lost relationship with the fae. Humans are important to Rae. Whatever she loves Breandan loves, and he has the ear of Lochlann, lord of all fairykind.”

  Lorken snorted. “Good luck. Humans are animals.” He glanced at Maeve. “The fae are worse. I have seen a tribal tithe. It’s blood, sex and sacrifice. Fairies are cunning. They conceal their beastly nature better than humans do.”

  “My people are animals?” Maeve hissed. “This coming from a weak-blooded descendant of countless women raped by your berserk forefathers?”

  A rumbling growl that sounded as if the earth shook eased from Lorken’s lips. Glaring at the fairy, his entire body engorged.

  Alec spun to Maeve and fit a finger across the seam of her mouth. “You challenge demons thrice your size now?”

  The Alpha’s words bounced around my mind. I shifted restlessly, irritated I felt the need to ask for clarification rather than demand it. “Rae doesn’t hate humans?”

  “She was raised among them,” Alec replied over his shoulder, attention mainly focused on controlling his mate. “I don’t think Rae has it in her to hate anybody. It’s w
hy she’s so strong yet remains vulnerable.”

  A tightness loosed in my chest. Rae must have felt an outsider as a child too. Our similarities are greater than I imagined.

  Maeve bit Alec’s finger, and he jerked his hand away, cursing.

  “Runt wrote of Rae,” said Lorken. “I want to meet her. To thank her for freeing my cousin and sending him home.”

  Alec treble-blinked. He slid us wily grins. “I have an idea.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Breandan

  I resolved to go after her. It took days for me to gather the courage, and whilst Ana refused to help me using her Sight, convinced my leaving meant the end for us all, I couldn’t stomach the separation any longer.

  Terror was more than a feeling it was my relentless companion.

  Our otherworldly bond changed greatly, but I felt Rae’s power wavering. It could only mean something terrible happened. I needed to go to her.

  “Breandan!” Kian sprinted past calling up to me. “We’re under attack.”

  Cursing, I jumped from the platform encircling my dwelling and rushed after him.

  Weaving with care through the Knights that gathered at the Wyld boundary, I emerged at the front of the group beside Kian behind my Elder.

  “I cannot believe they would dare,” Lochlann murmured.

  Braced at my brother’s right side, Conall made a sad noise. “Me either. I will not enjoy this.”

  The woods were silent, but soon I heard their fretful whispers, and the plodding of hoofs. I scented them on the wind, cold sweat, fresh hay, old leather and warm animal.

  “I smell shifter,” Baako muttered.

  Daphne stood tall at Lochlann’s left. “And goblin.”

  A mounted battalion of Clerics swathed in crimson cloaks rode though the mist in the dark.

  Above the evergreen peaks, the moon hung low and bright at their backs.

  Hooded-cowls were pulled low over their shadowed faces. The horses they rode were uniform in their magnificence, glossy coats reflecting the lunar light. Well-turned hooves lifted and planted delicately, hinting at speed. Clean fetlocks met strong cannon bone, bulky knees and trim forearms. Muscled hindquarters flexed and demonstrated the strength hidden beneath understated equine manners.

  The sleek lines of the horses were disturbed by the presence of leather saddles occupied by their masters.

  Four rows strong, the offensive phalanx came to a united halt at the stream.

  A white-clocked Cleric with gold embroidery on his breast separated from the formation. His large mount was imposing, his pristine robes arresting, but it wasn’t him sending ripples of unease through the lesser force of fairy Knights gathered behind me.

  A shifter prowled alongside the white-clad figure. The werepanther’s emerald eyes took in the fairies with calm recognition then settled on me.

  I cocked my head, wondering if he’d Change and explain himself.

  If you march against us, Alec, what have you done with my sister?

  “Damn,” Daphne whispered.

  “Traitors,” Kian spat.

  “No.” Amelia pushed forward past Wasp and Baako from where she stood with Ana. “Something isn’t right. Alec would never move against Lochlann. He’s loyal to Rae. She’s his friend, and we don’t befriend outside the Pride easily.”

  “Loyal to Rae,” Kian griped. “Not to our High Lord.”

  Amelia went toe-to-toe with him. As an alpha female, her eyes slanted feline. “Nimah wouldn’t let this happen. If it were beyond her control, she would’ve come to warn us. To warn me.”

  “That beastly female detests my kind.” He exaggerated a searching gesture then balked. “I am dumbfounded. She does not prowl the front line ranting spleen.”

  Amelia’s arms sprouted fur and her nails sharpened to claws. “Shut your mouth.”

  “Make me, animal.”

  Baako growled.

  “Kian.” Daphne eyed the quivering shifters a bad word away from Changing. “Ease up.”

  “Melia.” Ana offered her hand and jiggled her fingers “It’s okay.”

  The shifter stared into the witch’s pearly eyes and relaxed. Exhaling, she took Ana’s hand and let herself be pulled away from the hissing fairy Knight.

  Though pale, Ana flashed dimples. “Just watch.”

  Next to the Pride Alpha stood a bald, long eared creature bearing a faint resemblance to a demon half-breed I’d met before, Runt, a survivor of torture by the Sect. He’d left to communicate Lochlann’s desire for the goblins to attend a Meet. They didn’t arrive as expected nor did they send word of refusal to convene.

  After seeing the crazed vampire Queen revelling in the bloody aftermath of a decimated goblin Horde, I’d assumed the worst. I was certain this goblin, and the handful lurking at the rear were survivors of the Horde that passed through vampire territory.

  The Cleric pulled off his hood and let loose a riot of blonde curls. Face impassive, Samuel remained astride his stallion.

  Turning to me, Lochlann pointed at the advancing ranks. Face hard as granite, his eyes burned. “These are the people your life mate defended so fiercely.” His arm lowered. “Did you not send your Knight to avoid this?”

  Not yet ready to think the worst, I nodded, searching for bared green skin or fiery spiked hair amongst the supposed enemy lining the opposite bank.

  “Hai!” Gunarr ran from behind Samuel with his palm upheld.

  The tension pulling my shoulder blades together eased and the panicked inhalation that pumped the rarely inflated depths of my lungs to the fringes of pain rushed past my lips in a sigh.

  Reaching the edge of the stream, Gunarr leapt and somersaulted over the garrulous water. Tumbling into a roll, he sprinted to my side. He knelt. His fist thumped his chest in salute.

  My gaze swept over the ranks of Clerics and their weapons. I leaned over Gunarr. “Tell me this is not how it looks.”

  Grimacing, he chanced a look up. “This is not how it looks.”

  “You were meant to warn me if the humans planned anything this foolish.”

  “They march to Rae, not against the Wyld.”

  Straightening, I masked my shock with a snort of disagreement. “If you were not sworn to me, and bound by magics to speak the truth, I would call you a liar.”

  “I am your man and I do speak the truth.” Gunarr rose to look me in the eye. “They wish to help.”

  Lochlann and I shared side-eyed looks of incredulity.

  “Alright,” I said. “But I do not understand how they know she is in trouble. Alec knew Rae travelled into danger.”

  “Can’t you feel Rae anymore?” Daphne asked. “You used to be able to know exactly what she was feeling.” She glanced at Lochlann. “It’s an irritating thing but useful.”

  “The bond changed. I vaguely sensed something happened days ago, but tonight it feels dire.” My gaze turned inward. “Her presence in this world lessens.”

  “When is Rae not in trouble?” Amelia muttered.

  Baako grinned, and Wasp snorted.

  Ana shushed them.

  “Explain,” Lochlann ordered Gunarr. “Why have they come?”

  The fairy didn’t bother to look at him. A direct cut. “I am not yours to command.” He paused. “Even if I were still in service to the High Lord, I would not be yours to command.”

  “Brother,” I said, giving Gunarr a warning look to tread with care. “Leave him. We shall meet them in the middle to discuss–”

  Lochlann held up a hand. “You hold a grievance against me.”

  “Conall is to you what I was to Devlin.” Holding his ground, Gunarr threw him a rude look, red eyes piercing. “You stole that which is not rightfully yours. Using witchcraft. That is not our way. Worse, you wish a vampire as High Lady.” Gunarr’s repugnance for my brother was unmistakable. “I tolerate you. You are not my lord.”

  “I shall remember that.” Lochlann turned to me. “Well?” he promoted, impatient. “Shall we see why they are here?
”

  “Perhaps they come to fight the Loa?” said Conall. “They may have discovered where the wretches hide.”

  Gunnar made a noise at the back of his throat. He gave me a measuring look. “You are not going to be pleased.”

  “Leave your weapons,” Ana said, tone edgy. “This is a meeting of peace.”

  “I am the lord of this land.” Lochlann paused, daring the brave to contradict the proclamation. “To go unarmed lowers me. I shall not be seen as such in the presence of these savages.”

  Ana gnawed her lips raw, eyes darting every which way. They settled on Conall and narrowed. Threateningly. “You take your weapon to a meeting of peace, uncle?”

  Slumping, Conall stabbed his sword into the earth. To Gunarr he said in passing, “Humans on a mission of peace you say? Why not?”

  The fairy said nothing, but I noticed his hand twitched over the dagger strapped to his thigh.

  Gunarr’s edginess coupled with Ana’s increasingly palpable anxiety made me wary.

  And I sensed a vast well of power hiding behind the Clerics.

  Donning an expression of consummate boredom, Lochlann strolled after his Warrior, shoulders thrown back, chin lifted so high I wondered how his nose failed to bleed.

  Samuel kicked his stallion into a trot. They waded through the choppy water, and the horse emerged wet to the elbow on the other side.

  Dismounting with ease, Samuel gave the mount’s flank a hearty slap.

  Tossing its head, the horse’s forelegs pranced. It neighed, well-groomed crest and tail flicking madly, burnished sides heaving as it protested the strange-looking newcomers it was trained to distrust.

  “Easy, boy. Settle. Quiet now.” Keeping the reins wound in his fist, Samuel whispered soothing things to the noble beast, and it calmed under his firm handling.

  Lochlann held out an arm in a gesture of peace, but when his head turned to take in the figure sidestepping a Lady Cleric’s agitated gelding, he cursed, and drew the sword on his back. In a controlled rotation of the wrist the blade distorted into a silver falcate. Lochlann spun. Extending his arm at the end of the turn the sword tip rested at Samuel’s throat.

  Alec snarled, and his ears flattened.