The Rainmaker (Saga of the Chosen Book 2)

by Petra Landon

  Plus, there were Hawk’s words from that eventful plane ride, though Sienna didn’t bring that up. She’d already skirted enough danger on that topic. Bees to honey, was Hawk’s assessment of his Alpha’s love life.

  “I’ve no objections to Si’ffa” the Alpha said composedly. This time, he was gratified by the incredulous reaction of all three Wizards. Most Chosen tended to keep their distance from the humans — or Si’ffa, as the old tongue of the Ancients called those with no magic.

  He dates humans; who knew?

  Tasia had been mildly surprised when the Alpha had stated his ease in human company, back when he’d shared his past of running pack-less in Wyoming. Then, it had been his willingness to share his past with her and the outlaw aspect of it that had astonished her more. Suddenly, it seemed to acquire a whole new dimension. She realized that he truly did not consider humans as ‘others’ — rather surprising for a Chosen who seemed to otherwise embrace his Shifter persona with such gusto.

  Most Chosen tended to keep their distance from humans. Amongst all the factions, Wizards were probably the closest to their human cousins, since it was not uncommon to have families of mixed Wizard and human children. Wizards were also the Chosen with the most conventional, for lack of a better word, kind of magic. It tended to reduce the possibility of accidently revealing the Chosen’s existence to their human cousins, as long as a Wizard maintained some basic precautions.

  “You’re full of contradictions, Alpha” Sienna remarked, once she was over her initial surprise.

  “Like Jason said, I’m not a traditionalist by any means. And I’ve never had any issues with humans. As a group, I find them generally harmless, or at least, no more harmful than any of us Chosen.”

  “I’ve met many Chosen who call themselves non-traditionalists” Jason chimed in. “But you’re the first Shifter and one of the very few Chosen I know who is so accepting of humans.”

  Raoul turned to Sienna, who seemed to be chewing silently on something. What was sauce for the goose was certainly sauce for the gander, he mused.

  “What about you, Sienna?” he inquired. “Do you keep yourself away from all Chosen, or just your Wizard fraternity?”

  “I’ve never dated a Chosen” she responded promptly, and candidly.

  “Lack of opportunity or personal choice?” he prompted, mindful of Jason’s interest in the conversation. If Duncan was to be believed, their resident Guardian carried quite a torch for his charge.

  “A combination of the two, perhaps” Sienna confessed after a short pause. “This thing with the Pack has been an eye-opener in many ways. It’s given me a fresh perspective on the Chosen. And for that, I’m very grateful.”

  Raoul inclined his head in silent acknowledgement of her words.

  Sienna changed the topic. “You’re interested in the official records of Da’s prophecy?”

  “It’s the next logical step in our investigation. There’s still a lot we don’t understand about Lady Bethesda’s motivations. If this is what set her on the path she’s hell bent on, then I’d like to know more. A prophecy is only as good as its interpretation. Without the official record, we have no interpretation or understanding of its nuances.”

  “You’re correct, of course, but I’m afraid the First Wizard might not be able to get you access to it.” Sienna was apologetic. “The Guardians control all Wizard artifacts, as they’ve done for centuries. And Aunt Minnie’s relationship with the GCW is at its lowest point currently, in no small part because of her decision to entrust my protection to the Shifters, rather than the Guardians.”

  “I see.”

  “However, if you’re willing, there might be another way.” Sienna’s expression sobered. “What I say is not common knowledge, even among Wizards. Aunt Minnie was in the room the night my Da made that prophecy. They were all gathered to choose the first ever First Wizard to sit on the newly formed CoC. Aunt Minnie might be willing to share her recollection of it with you. Should I make the request?”

  “The First Wizard is a very good judge of people and what drives them” Jason added, his eyes on Raoul.

  “You both seem very sure that the Guardians will never allow us access to the official records” Raoul remarked.

  Sienna agreed without hesitation while Jason simply sighed in response.

  “I would welcome the First Wizard’s impressions from that night. Will she agree to share her recollections with us?”

  “She will, if I ask her” Sienna said confidently, even as Jason nodded his head.

  “Any other witnesses from that night who might be willing to share their experiences with us?” Raoul inquired of both Wizards. “If we don’t get access to the official records, the more people we hear from, the better our understanding of The Prophecy.”

  “The then members of the GCW were the only people present that night to elect their First Wizard. With the current state of affairs being what it is between the First Wizard and the GCW, I’m not sure any Guardians would be willing to speak to you on this matter.” Jason was blunt. “I’ll make discreet inquiries and see if anyone is willing to talk to me about it. But I should warn you that even my friends seem reluctant to discuss Guardian matters with me now that it’s common knowledge I live at your Lair. It’s a betrayal the Guardians are finding hard to swallow.”

  Chapter 7

  Bianchi weaves a tangled web

  “Fresh air?”

  Tasia stared at the text in surprise. The phone beeped again before she could respond.

  “In an hour?”

  It was almost nine and Tasia had just finished dinner at the Lair Café with Sara and Hawk. This had been a frustrating day for her, cooped up in the Lair with nothing to keep her busy. Even her work on the OFW report was complete. Would she like some fresh air, she asked herself. As if she even had to think about it.

  “Yes” she typed back.

  He wanted to talk to her about the nightmares, Tasia guessed. Once the First Wizard and Faoladh were at Lair tomorrow, the Alpha would be busy. And while a discussion of the nightmares might not help find any answers, Tasia nevertheless felt a measure of relief at having unburdened herself to someone.

  “Be downstairs at 10. Don’t be early.”

  Tasia made her way down the stairs at five past ten. This time, she made sure to stop by the security booth to pick up a temporary keycard for the Lair gates. She should apply for a personal keycard tomorrow, she reminded herself, as she made her way through the heavy doors into the poorly-lit parking lot. She was here to stay for the time being, and the Alpha seemed diligent about alleviating her Lair claustrophobia. It was time she made the commitment of a Lair keycard.

  The Alpha ushered her silently into his car. This time, the convertible top had already been pulled down in anticipation of its passenger. The sporty car whipped around the corners expertly as he pulled into the road.

  “Embarcadero?” he inquired with a glance at her.

  Tasia acquiesced. She had wrapped up more warmly this time. Her jacket had a hood she could use for the wind. In no time, they were parked and crossing to the wharf on the other side.

  “I’d like to ask you about the nightmares” he opened abruptly, with a keen-eyed glance at her.

  “Yes.” Succinct but not discouraging.

  “In your nightmare — are you sure it’s you? Perhaps you witness someone else’s struggle, someone who’s a Shifter, that is.”

  Tasia reflected on the question, wishing fervently that she were a witness. That would be a rational explanation for the strange and terrifying nightmares.

  “I’m sure” she sighed. “The sensations …” She struggled to not be overwhelmed by the rush of memories.

  “Everything’s so real, so intense. I feel my bones contracting as something tries to break through my skin — it’s agony. I don’t see how I could be watching this happen to someone else.” She paused to gather her thoughts. “How could I be witness to another’s experience in my dreams, anyway?”
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br />   For a moment, the Alpha was silent. “Those with a lot of magic in them have been known to inadvertently pick up emotions from other Magicks. In some Chosen, it translates to dreams.”

  Tasia stared at him in surprise. “I’ve never heard that before.”

  “It would explain the nightmares” he said soberly. “What you describe might be something you inadvertently sense from a Shifter. It might also explain why the nightmares started after you moved into the Lair.”

  Tasia reflected on it. The ability he described sounded like a nightmare in itself.

  “If I did possess such an ability, would I not have sensed things over the years?” she inquired hesitantly. “I’ve never experienced anything even remotely like this before.”

  “You’ve been living your life amongst Si’ffa. Your powers wouldn’t allow you to sense them. In theory, that might protect you all these years, until you moved into the Lair.”

  “A blessing, in other words” Tasia muttered with a muted shudder.

  “Of sorts, yes” he assented quietly.

  “No.” She shook her head. “I’m not a witness in the dreams. It’s too vivid — I feel every emotion and see everything through my eyes. And, there’s no one else present.”

  No, that’s not entirely true. Sometimes, there’s the blue-eyed witch who watches me with her bright cruel eyes, and lately, there’s a huge bear that makes an appearance just as I succumb to the beast.

  “Alright.” He gave in. “The only other explanation I can think of is that you’re seeing glimpses of the future.”

  Though how she could go from being an unusually powerful Wizard to experiencing the darkest fear of a Shifter was something Raoul had no explanation for. He’d seen a vision too, he reminded himself. Of sorts, anyway. Something he tried to not dwell on, if he could help it. But her experience was different from his — she was not a Shifter and would never experience a Wyr’s mighty struggle. Plus, his own experience had not been a dream, in any way. He had been wide awake when the flashes had hit him.

  “You mean, I’ll experience my dream for real in the future — like a vision?” It was not something Tasia looked forward to with any enthusiasm.

  “It’s possible” he suggested tactfully. “We should consider every possibility we can, no matter how improbable.”

  He’d had the night and an entire day to ponder this and the matter concerned him to a degree he hadn’t thought possible. He’d even wondered for a mad moment whether she possessed the ability to unintentionally receive and project thoughts psychically during moments of great strain. Her off-the-charts magic might give her abilities that were unheard of in their world. Raoul knew that they should figure this out urgently, before it boomeranged into something bigger and more sinister. The witchling, no matter how strong and resilient she was, would eventually succumb to the stress from the nightmares, if what she experienced was even a tenth of his time with the witch.

  “Are you aware of any ancestors with seer-like abilities?” he asked bluntly, not bothering to tread lightly. “Your parents were both powerful Wizards and the ability to see visions of the future seems to run in the Wizard bloodlines, more than other Chosen.”

  My mother was not a Wizard, though she certainly had powers a Wizard would kill for.

  “My father never talked about any ancestors with the ability to see the future” she said thoughtfully. “I know very little about my mother’s family.”

  Raoul pondered her response as they walked. The gentle sound of the water soothed him while the breeze from the bay felt refreshing on his skin, instantly lulling his jacked-up senses into winding down for the night. The past sometimes kept him up at night, but not tonight, he knew. This part of the city had always had the ability to bring him a measure of peace. He wished he could offer some of the same peace to the Wizard who walked beside him. For now, all he could offer her was a reassurance that she wasn’t alone.

  “I’m not giving up on this.” He met her gaze, his own serious and determined. “There’s an explanation for what is happening to you, and I’m going to find it. In the meanwhile, hang in there.”

  Tasia felt a spurt of emotion well up in her. This was the enigma of the man, she reflected. Unexpected moments of extraordinary compassion sprinkled through his otherwise inflexible and Alpha Shifter personality.

  “Thank you” she murmured, meeting the somber gold eyes.

  They resumed walking again.

  “Faoladh and the First Wizard will be at the Lair tomorrow. I think it best if you stay out of sight while they’re here” he remarked, his warning blunt.

  “Would you prefer me to stay in my room?” Tasia asked. It would not do to arouse the curiosity of either CoC representative. Her presence at the Lair of a Wizard-hating Alpha Protector would always generate suspicion.

  “No, the Lair is your home now. You should treat it like one. Just stay away from the top floor tomorrow.”

  “I’ll make sure of it” Tasia promised.

  They walked on in companiable silence, accompanied by the gentle lapping of the ocean against the seawall. Tasia couldn’t help but steal a few surreptitious glances at the big Shifter who strode silently beside her, matching his stride to her smaller one. Like before, he seemed different away from the Lair. In there, the projected aura of an Alpha was hard to miss — someone whose authority was never to be challenged, not without dire consequences. Here, out in the open by the bay, with the lilt of the water, he seemed less grim and alien to her, more normal.

  “I’d like to invite Caro to the Lair one day” she asked. Caroline had offered to come hang with her, since Tasia could not leave the Lair anymore, even with her Shifter escorts.

  “Of course.” His response was immediate. “I’ll take care of it. Your friend is welcome.”

  “Should I ask her to stay away tomorrow?” Tasia inquired hesitantly.

  He shook his head. “The Lair is open for business tomorrow. It’s only the top floor that’s off limits. Remember, this visit is Shifter business, witchling” he added softly, the words pregnant with warning.

  “I won’t say a word” Tasia responded without rancor. It was his way of warning her that Caro should not be told about the visit. She’d made this mistake before, when first invited into the Pack fold, but not anymore. She was wiser to their ways now.

  “Have you made a decision about the Avian New Year Party?” he inquired.

  “Avian?” Tasia looked startled.

  “Atsá’s were-pack” he explained laconically. “Their beast forms are birds.”

  I thought a Shifter’s beast form was confidential information never revealed to just anyone.

  “You’re Pack now” he pointed out. “And I’m not telling you anything the rest of the Pack doesn’t know. The name of a were-pack reveals nothing about the beast forms of any Shifter in it. A lot of birds fall in the category.”

  “I didn’t realize that Shifters were organized into were-packs based on their beast forms.” Tasia was surprised.

  “That’s how the older were-packs were traditionally structured. In the old days, Shifters with similar were-forms tended to band together to protect their turf. When Faoladh organized the current Pack structure, the older were-packs were folded in. Most were-packs retained the old arrangement. Things are starting to change with the newer were-packs, though.”

  “Do your were-packs continue the traditional structure?” Tasia was curious. She was beginning to realize that he was no traditionalist, so matter how it appeared on the surface.

  “All except the were-pack created after I became Alpha.”

  They walked on, both seemingly lost in their thoughts. Tasia had dressed more warmly this time. Even so, she could feel the bite of the chilly air from the bay.

  “Somehow, when I think of Shape-shifters, I never imagine them having bird forms” she remarked.

  “Too cuddly by far?” There was an underlying amusement in his quip.

  Tasia glanced at him, noting the glin
t in the gold-colored eyes.

  “Yes.” Her lips quirked with an answering smile.

  “In that case, I should probably not destroy your illusions.”

  “Illusions?”

  “The only bird forms Shifters take are birds of prey. No cuteness or cuddliness associated with them, I assure you.”

  Her first meeting with Hawk flashed at Tasia. Hawk had two beast forms, unusual for a Shifter. She had seen him take both the first night she’d met him.

  “Hawk” she murmured under her breath.

  “Yep” he assented, his hearing sharper than any human. “Although Hawk is atypical of most Shifters.”

  This she knew. Hawk was atypical in so many ways. To Tasia, he broke the very mold of a Shifter.

  “Hawk has his wolf form from his father, and his bird form from his mother” she mused out aloud.

  And yet, doesn’t belong to either were-pack.

  “Both were-packs refused to accept Hawk and Sara” the Alpha said.

  “Hawk told me that you fought the Were-Alphas to include Sara and him in the Pack.”

  “It was their right to be included in the Pack.”

  “He also said that Duncan was the only Were-Alpha to accept them into his were-pack. Otherwise, their Shifter training would have fallen to you by default.”

  “Duncan makes a much better Were-Alpha than I ever will” he said easily. “Training young Shifters requires time and patience, qualities in short supply in me. And, I don’t like to deal with people” he added wryly.

  No kidding, I’d never have guessed that.

  “Have you made a decision about Atsá’s New Year celebration?” he asked again.

  Tasia took a deep breath, disquiet welling up at the question. The epicenter of high-stakes politicking was not a place she felt comfortable in. If it were up to her, she would walk up to Maartje and deliver a blunt response. But that was not how the Pack worked. Duncan had advised her to be subtle about it. Don’t burn any bridges you don’t need to, was his advice. If she stayed silent, allowing the events to enfold on their own, it would increase her enigma and Maartje’s respect for her. The female Were-Alpha would then think twice about attempting to exploit Tasia’s naiveté with Pack affairs. On sober reflection, Tasia had agreed rather reluctantly with Duncan. She was lucky to be the recipient of Duncan’s advice on the matter.