It had been tough to put in her notice at the library, which for a long time had been the only safe place Ciera had ever known. But she knew she would be doing good at the center, and creating a safe place for many others. It was what she was meant to be doing.
That was the good thing. The other unexpected outcome of all the publicity had been the arrival on her doorstep of her own parents, who had apparently been alerted when someone from the press had called them for an interview about their now-famous daughter.
Sadly, that reunion had not been a huge success. It soon became clear that her parents were just as dysfunctional as they had ever been, and had only sought her out in an effort to be close to the limelight. Once the fuss had died down, they had vanished as suddenly as they had arrived, leaving behind halfhearted invitations to visit, as long as she wore proper clothes and didn’t bring any of those druggie kids with her.
After they’d left, she had waited for the old sting, the feelings of inadequacy and unworthiness. Surprisingly, they never showed. It eventually occurred to her that she no longer cared what others thought of her. She had finally come into her own.
As she spooned stinky cat food into a bowl and put it on the floor for the tiny black ball of fuzz one of the kids had found discarded in a box, she found herself thinking that life was pretty close to perfect. Her apartment was great, and she loved running the center. But as she put the food away in the fridge and gave the postcard its customary touch, she couldn’t help but wish she weren’t doing it alone.
Where are you, Gregori? I miss you. Come home.
• • •
GREGORI stood next to the Ducati, which had thankfully returned to its usual two-wheeled guise, and stared across the street at the sign that read: BLUE SKIES CENTER FOR AT-RISK YOUTH in large letters, and then in smaller ones underneath, CIERA EVANS, DIRECTOR. He was so proud, he wanted to cheer.
Of course, that hadn’t been his initial reaction when he had gone to the library to look for Ciera and been told she no longer worked there. He had not been sure what to think. Had they fired her? Had she quit because of what happened? Was she even still in town? His heart rate had not gone back to normal until he talked to Elisabeth at the soup kitchen, and she explained all the changes he had missed.
Gregori had not intended to be gone so long. But it had been worth it. The visions and flashes of precognition came less frequently now, were more accurate when they did come, and were less disruptive. More important, he no longer lost control of the healing ability, and used it only when and where he chose. Iduyan had taught him how to channel the universal energy through himself, into the patient, and back out again without draining his own life force or taking on the pain of whomever he was working on. To say that this was a relief would be a huge understatement.
He had also enjoyed spending time with Iduyan and Jarilo much more than he had expected to; it was an odd thing to discover one’s parents at such a late date, but a blessing nonetheless. Still, the woman waiting for him tugged at his heart, and eventually it was time to leave. He only hoped she waited for him still.
So much had changed in her existence since he had been gone. Perhaps her feelings for him had changed too. Maybe she had felt only gratitude and not love. They’d had so little time together, and he had been away for many months. He worried that he had returned only to be told that there was no place for him in her new life. And so here he stood, overcome by an unaccustomed cowardice, afraid to cross the street and find out.
Eventually, the front door of the center opened and a woman walked out. No, not just any woman: the woman. The most beautiful, brave, compassionate woman he had ever met in all his long travels. She looked a little different; she wore her hair loose now, its kinky-curly length rioting over her shoulders, and was attired in neat black jeans and a formfitting royal blue top that hugged her curves in a way the old Ciera never would have been comfortable with. Looking at her, Gregori did not miss the old shapeless hoodies at all.
She stood there for a moment, poised on the steps, then strolled across the road.
“One of the kids told me there was a suspicious guy hanging around staring at the building,” she said, a grin tugging at the corner of her full mouth. “Do you think I should call the cops?”
Gregori shook his head. “I do not believe that will be necessary. I am completely harmless.”
Ciera snorted. “You are a lot of things, Gregori Sun, but harmless definitely isn’t one of them.” She gazed at him for a moment. “You look a lot better than you did the last time I saw you. I take it your mother was able to help you with your new gifts?”
“She was,” he said. “I am still a healer and a psychic, but at least for the most part, I control those talents, rather than having them control me.”
“That’s good to hear,” Ciera said. “You know, I think I must be a little bit psychic too.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Really?”
The tiny grin became a full-fledged smile. “Yup. Because I had this feeling that you’d be back, and here you are.”
He laughed. “Indeed. I confess, I was not so certain you would still be happy to see me.”
“Then clearly I am a better psychic than you are,” she said. “Because I am very happy. Now, are you going to stand out here on the sidewalk all day making the neighbors nervous, or are you going to come inside and let me show you what I’ve been doing while you’ve been off being all shaman-ized?”
“I would love to see it,” Gregori said honestly. “Please.”
Once inside, he was seriously impressed. There were various spaces on the first floor for classes and exercise, a full kitchen, a large living room/lounge area, and a library complete with shelves of books and a number of computer kiosks. On the second floor, there was one wing of rooms for the boys and another for the girls. Ciera’s apartment was at the back, and was the last place she led him.
“Would you like a cup of tea?” she asked after the door had closed behind them.
“Perhaps later,” he said, then smiled in delight at the tiny creature attempting to climb his pant leg. “Goodness. You got a cat.” He scooped it up in one hand. “Or something that will eventually be a cat, when it grows up. Does it have a name?”
“Her name is Magic,” Ciera said with a grin. “I have learned that sometimes magic is hidden, and sometimes it is right out in the open, if you know where to look. Very catlike, really.”
“I like it,” he said, putting the kitten down on the sofa and gazing into Ciera’s eyes. “Sometimes the most amazing things show up right in front of you when you least expect them.”
She blushed. “I certainly never expected anyone like you,” she said. “In truth, I never thought I’d ever find someone I could trust enough to let into my life.”
“I hope you trust me,” Gregori said. “Because I would very much like to be a part of your life, if you have room for me in it.”
Ciera bit her lip. “I don’t know,” she said. “I’m kind of like a big den mother here, on call all the time. It’s not as though I can take off and travel across the country on a fancy red motorcycle whenever the urge takes me. You might be bored.”
“I have actually been thinking that it might be time for me to settle down,” he said. “It seems to me it could be useful to have someone here to teach self-defense, as well as meditation and other techniques that would make it easier for your teens to stay away from drugs and the temptations of the street.” He hesitated. “Unless you already have someone doing such classes.”
“I don’t,” she said. “And you’re right, that’s a great idea. But there is one small problem.”
He was too late. She had found someone else. He knew he should have returned sooner. “And that is?” he asked in an even tone.
“Well, since I live on-site, I have to be careful to set a good example for the kids. We would have to be discreet.”
<
br /> Gregori laughed, almost giddy with relief. “Actually, I have an idea that might help with that.” He pulled a small leather pouch out of his back pocket, then reached inside it for the ring his father had helped him create.
Ciera stared at the simple gold band, topped with an orange-red faceted stone that almost seemed to glow with its own inner fire. “Is that? It can’t be.”
“It is,” Gregori said. “At my request, Jarilo transformed the phoenix feather into this ring. I thought that since it once helped me find you when you needed me, perhaps it would help us to find our way to each other again. Permanently.”
He bowed formally and then held the ring out in the palm of one hand. “Will you marry me, Ciera? I have mended my body and my spirit, but I am still not whole, because somewhere along the line, I lost half of my heart.”
She gazed at him in wonderment, smiling through her tears. “Luckily for you, I seem to have found it, right alongside the part of my heart that has been waiting for you.” She reached out and let him slide the ring onto her finger, where its glow immediately brightened.
“About that good example,” Gregori said. “I have a question.”
“Shut up and kiss me,” she whispered. “I’ll be a good example tomorrow.”
And so he did. He kissed her softly for a while, lips sliding on lips like silk, and then he kissed her deeply, with all the passion he normally kept hidden away from the world. Then he scooped her up in his arms and carried her through to her bedroom, where he gently removed her clothing and kissed her beautiful creamy brown skin inch by inch as he revealed it.
He reveled in her scent and her giggles and the glint in her eye that said she had been dreaming of this moment for as long as he had.
He kissed her until she moaned low in the back of her throat and clutched at his shoulders with greedy fingers, and finally, finally, he sank himself into her, all warm and wet and welcoming, and knew that at last he was home.
Afterward, they lay curled together in a satisfied heap, with little Magic the kitten purring at the bottom of the bed.
Ciera sighed and sat up, searching around for her bra. “I really should get back to work,” she said. “I have a meeting in an hour.”
Gregori squinted at her through half-closed eyes. “Hmmm . . .” he said.
“What? Is something wrong?” For a moment, she looked alarmed, perhaps afraid that his cure had not been quite as thorough as he had supposed.
“I am having a premonition,” he said, reaching out for her.
“What is it?”
He nibbled on her neck. “I predict you are going to be late,” he whispered, and bore her back down onto the bed again.
CHAPTER 32
THEY were married on the summer solstice, a little over a month later. The weather was perfect, as one might expect from an event at which a god was in attendance. Iduyan left her hidden village for the first time in centuries to attend, accompanied by a surprisingly attentive Jarilo, who had apparently taken to visiting her there from time to time. Ciera thought the shamaness seemed a bit overwhelmed by the world outside, but at least they were holding the wedding itself at the Lyndale Park Peace Garden, where she should feel reasonably at home.
For a man who at one point had intended to shut himself away from the world, Gregori’s guest list was filled with people who considered themselves his family. All three Baba Yagas were there along with their husbands. Barbara brought little Babs, who declared the entire event to be “excellent,” and Bella brought along her teenage protégé, Jazz, who immediately struck up a friendship with the normally prickly Julie Ann.
Ciera’s favorite guest, however, was Gregori’s youngest brother, Mikhail, who brought along his new wife, Jenna, and their adorable baby girl, Flora. Mikhail was just as charming as Gregori had promised, and even more gorgeous than their father, if that was possible.
Ciera’s side of the guest list was missing any blood relatives, since she had decided against telling her parents about the ceremony. But Elisabeth and Byron were there, wearing huge grins, along with most of the residents of the center. Some of the homeless teens who still frequented the soup kitchen came, too, bearing flowers they had probably picked out of someone else’s gardens. She didn’t care. As far as she was concerned, the day was just perfect.
Perfect, of course, except for the continued absence of Gregori’s other brother, Alexei.
“I’m so sorry Alexei isn’t here,” she said to Gregori after the ceremony was over. “I hope you’re not too upset.”
Her new husband, back to his usual imperturbable self, raised one shoulder in a minute shrug. He looked even more handsome than usual, in a red silk tunic and black pants. His hair was getting long again, which Ciera loved, but she’d vetoed the mustache when he suggested growing it back. She just wore a simple white dress, and had topped the wildness of her hair with a circlet of roses.
“Alexei is still trying to find his way to his own path, as Mikhail and I had to. I suspect he is just as lost and confused as we two were, but he is dealing with it in his own bullheaded and rowdy fashion.” He pointed out a battered-looking box on the table that held presents that ranged from his-and-hers meditation cushions to season tickets to next year’s Minnesota Wild hockey games. “Besides, he actually sent a gift and a note, so at least I know my invitation reached him.”
“Really?” Ciera was bursting with curiosity. “What did he send? And what did the note say?”
In answer, Gregori walked her over to the fabric-draped table. “He sent this,” he said, pulling out an ebony carving of a dragon. It was only about six inches tall, but it had such meticulous detail, Ciera could make out every scale from the top of its head to the end of its long tail, which curved around into the shape of a heart.
“Wow,” she said. “Where on earth did he find that?”
Gregori smiled. “He did it himself. It was an old hobby; I was not sure he even still did it.”
“That makes it even more precious,” Ciera said, stroking its side. “What did the note say? I’m guessing from this that it was something sweet and sentimental.”
“My brother is not the sweet and sentimental type,” Gregori said with a laugh. “Here, see for yourself.” He handed over the note for her to read.
Dear Gregori,
I am sorry to miss your wedding. I am impressed you found a woman who would marry you, although I question her sanity. Either way, here is a little something to remind you of where you came from.
I would have come to the ceremony, but I am on a mission to carouse my way through bars and taverns in every state. I started on the West Coast in Seattle and have staunchly worked my way across the country. Already drank my way through Minnesota, so there is no point in turning back now. Unfortunately, I am about to run out of states, and possibly bars. If that happens, perhaps I will come by and say hello.
You would have made a lousy monk.
Affectionately,
Alexei
Ciera blinked. “Well. I see what you mean. Not exactly the mushy congratulations I would have expected.” She looked up at Gregori and found his face adorned by an unexpected grin.
“What’s so funny?” she asked, a bit baffled by his reaction.
“Ah,” Sun said. “I just had another vision. I think my brother is about to find himself in one bar too many. And believe it or not, that may turn out to be just what he needs.”
Ciera hugged him. “You’re just what I need,” she said. “I hope he gets as lucky as we did.”
Gregori gave her a secretive smile. “You never know,” he said. “With the Riders, anything is possible.”
TURN THE PAGE FOR A PEEK AT DEBORAH BLAKE’S FIRST BABA YAGA NOVEL
WICKEDLY DANGEROUS
AVAILABLE IN PAPERBACK FROM BERKLEY SENSATION!
THE crackle of the two-way radio barely impinged on Liam McClellan’s
consciousness as he scanned the bushes on either side of his squad car for any sign of a missing seven-year-old girl. He’d been down this same narrow country road yesterday at dusk, but like the other searchers, he’d had to give up when darkness fell. Like the rest—volunteers from the nearby community and every cop who could be spared, whether on duty or off—he’d come back at dawn to pick up where he left off. Even though there was little hope of success, after six long days.
His stomach clenched with a combination of too much coffee, too little sleep, and the acid taste of failure. Liam McClellan took his job as sheriff very seriously. Clearwater might be a tiny county in the middle of nowhere, its population scattered between a few small towns and a rural countryside made up mostly of struggling farmers, overgrown wilderness, and white-tailed deer, but it was his tiny county, and the people in it were his to protect. Lately, it didn’t seem like he’d been doing a very good job.
Mary Elizabeth Shields had disappeared out of her own backyard. Her mother had turned her back for a moment, drawn by the flutter of a bright-hued bird. When she turned around, the girl had vanished. Such a thing would be alarming enough on its own, but Mary Elizabeth was the third child to go missing in the last four months. To a lawman, that meant only one thing: a human predator was stalking the children of Clearwater County.
There had been no trace of any of the missing children. No tire marks, no unexplained fingerprints, no lurking strangers seen at any of the places from which the children had disappeared. No clues at all for a tired and frustrated sheriff to follow. And this time it was personal; Mary Elizabeth’s mother was one of his deputies. A single mother who adored her only child, Belinda Shields was beside herself with grief and terror, making Liam even more discouraged over his inability to make any headway in the case.
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