by Ann Gimpel
“And who is your mother, Tairin?”
She opened her mouth, but before she could speak, the wolf cut in, “That is for Jamal to reveal to his people.”
“I heard that,” the man said. “It appears the bond with your animal has been consummated.”
Tairin nodded, hoping the man might look more favorably on her. She wanted to ask his name, but if he wanted her to know, he’d have told her. She was on shaky enough ground. Better to keep her mouth shut.
“Wait here,” the man said. Spinning on his heel, he broke into a lope.
Tairin settled on a flat rock. “What happens next?” she asked the wolf.
“Rafa probably went to confer with some of the elders. He’ll return with one or more of them.”
“At least I know his name now. Interesting. They have elders too. Will Jamal come now that he knows I’m here?”
“There’s a chance they won’t tell him.” The wolf hesitated. “There’s an equally good chance they won’t allow him to see you.”
“They’re as powerful as the Rom elders.”
Tairin set her lips in a tight line. Of course, they would be. Maybe more so since their magic was stronger. Rather than say something else stupid, she clasped her hands in her lap beneath her sack and waited.
Time dripped by, maybe over an hour. Tairin was close to chalking this up as wasted effort when she felt shifter magic drawing near. Scrambling to her feet, she stood straight to face what approached. Rafa was there, but so were three other men.
Jamal wasn’t among them.
Once they got close enough to hear her, she asked, “Where is my father?”
“Not here,” a man with black hair and dark brown eyes replied. “What is it you want with him?”
The question took her aback. “What any child would from a parent.” She stammered over the words.
“True enough.” Another man with red hair examined her through discerning green eyes. “But you’re scarcely a child in need of her father.”
The black-haired man stepped closer to her. “You may be a shifter, but your blood is not pure. We only allow shifters with untainted bloodlines to live in our settlements.”
“You’re sending me away without seeing my father?” After everything she’d gone through to get here, Tairin hadn’t expected much, but she’d at least expected to lay eyes on her father one last time.
“It’s not as if you’re not fully grown,” the man pointed out.
“Your wolf will provide and protect,” Rafa added.
Her eyes pricked with the hot bite of tears just before they spilled over. She stuffed a fist in her mouth and bit down hard, but it didn’t stem the tide of her sorrow.
“If you wish, you can wait out what remains of the dark hours here,” Rafa said. “Our magic will shield you at least for tonight.”
Before she could craft a reply, spit in their faces, and tell them to shove their pity up their asses, the men left as quickly as they’d come. She and her wolf were alone with cliffs ringing them on three sides.
“They didn’t have to offer anything,” the wolf spoke up.
“I don’t want scraps from their table,” she muttered, still trying to stop crying.
“There’s a place for pride, but it’s not here. We should remain until sunrise.”
“Is there any chance they’ll change their minds? That Jamal will come for me?” Tairin hated herself for the hope in her question and her voice.
“No, bondmate. No chance. They offered a respite from our struggles. No more, no less.”
She let herself down heavily on the flat rock where she’d waited for the four shifters to quash her last hopes. Would the shifter elders kill Jamal for breaking their laws, like the Rom had done to her mother?
“Jamal will be censured, but his kin won’t take his life.”
Relief spilled through her, and she didn’t understand why. She should hate both her parents. They’d brought this on themselves—and her—but she didn’t have any hatred left. Maybe when she was through mourning, she could hate, but that wouldn’t happen for a while.
Her eyes were hot, gritty, weary, but sleep was out of the question. She needed to be gone from this place before dawn. She didn’t want that quartet of hatchet-faced men to show up again and punish her for taking advantage of what they likely viewed as a generous concession.
“Rest. I will see you’re up in time to leave.”
Tairin was weary and discouraged. Between watching vampires’ wickedness and being set upon just walking through Cairo, she didn’t hold much hope for any kind of future. Because she didn’t have a better idea, Tairin curled up on the flat stone and closed her eyes. The wolf must have spun its magic because she dropped into blackness almost at once.
Chapter 12
The wolf was as good as its word, and Tairin made her way down the mountainside as night’s dregs yielded to a pearlescent dawn. The sky came alive with color, but the dead places inside her couldn’t appreciate the beauty. She did what she could to kick herself into a better mental state, but reasons not to give into hopelessness eluded her.
No mother. No father. No caravan. No one who cared if she lived or died—except the wolf, and it had survived the loss of other bondmates.
Had Jamal known she was within arm’s reach and chosen not to see her? Or had his kin conveniently neglected to tell him until she was gone? Tairin had questions she never expected to find answers for.
Which way should she go? If she kept traveling north, there was an enormous sea and a busy port with ships that traveled the world. Maybe she could find work on one of them. Did women even go to sea? She suspected the answer was no.
“I have to do something,” she mumbled.
“For now, let’s head toward the big river. Hunting is plentiful there, and I’m hungry.”
Tairin was too, but she was tired of game, eaten raw. She shuttered her thoughts, burying them deep. The wolf had been kind to her, and she didn’t want to hurt its feelings.
They crossed the main road and moved deep into the Nile Delta. It was busier here than downriver where her caravan was camped. After her near miss with the man yesterday, she skirted encampments. Beyond folk who obviously lived here, other groups had gathered on the river’s banks fishing or collecting water or washing clothes. Some cut vegetation to add to their cookpots.
She undressed behind two boulders, stuffing her skirt and tunic in her bag. Hurrying before anyone happened on her, she left her clothing sack in a crevice between the boulders that sheltered her. A small spell would hide its presence. Tairin marked the location in her mind. Once she wasn’t encumbered with the bag, she shrouded herself with invisibility and picked her way across side streams until she reached a spot she could shift and not run into anyone.
When she’d withdrawn her attention from the past and the future, her attitude improved. One thing at a time, she told herself. I’ll do one thing, and then I’ll do the next.
It was a far different mindset than the one she’d grown up with, where everything was planned out, but that life was gone.
The shift magic took her. It was a relief to cede her fragile body to the wolf with its fangs and claws and fur. Its joy at being free warmed her, and when it rocked onto its haunches and howled, other wolves howled back.
Family. They could be my family, stand in for the one I lost.
Tairin shut down that line of thought fast. She was human. She’d lost almost everything, but she couldn’t lose that. If she did, she’d… Her mind stumbled to a halt. She had no idea what would happen if she remained a wolf for long, but she was certain it was the wrong thing to do.
The wolf hunted with her along for the ride. They caught, chewed, and swallowed so many mice and rabbits, her belly grew distended.
“It’s enough,” she told the wolf. “We shouldn’t be greedy.”
Instead of answering, the wolf padded to the water’s edge and drank deep. “Do you want to rest or return to your things?” it asked.
The answer should have risen quickly, but it didn’t. She wasn’t anxious to be human again, not when she became prey, rather like the rodents they’d consumed.
“You don’t have to—” the wolf began.
She cut it off. “Yes, I do. We must return to my things. It’s one thing to be in your form to feed ourselves, but it’s not right to stay that way.”
She’d expected arguments, but the wolf padded back the way they’d come. It located the boulders without any help from her. Moving through shadows, they skirted several groups of people, but no one looked twice. The wolf must have ways of shielding its presence the same way she could.
A scan told her no one was close enough to bother them, so she visualized her body and let the shift take her. Before, she’d been relieved to be back in her own body, but not today. With her humanness came pain and worry and apprehension.
When she understood why today was different, sadness filled her. Even though she’d told herself it was unlikely, she’d pinned her hopes on her father. He loved her. Surely he wouldn’t desert her.
But he had. By now, he knew she’d been there, and he hadn’t tried to track her. With his shifter senses, finding his own blood would be a simple matter.
Stay in the present. I’ll drive myself mad if I don’t.
“Why aren’t you saying anything?” she asked the wolf. “I know you hear my thoughts.”
“This is one path you must tread alone. I can’t humor you out of your grief or your losses. They’re real. The pain will fade, but it will take time. I respect you too much to pretend your anguish isn’t real.”
“I wish we could both have bodies.” She snuffled a little, but didn’t cry. “Because then I could hug you.”
“I’d like that. I could lick your chin.”
She dressed and slung her sack around her neck, but wasn’t in a rush to leave the protection the boulders offered. The world had tilted on its axis. Everyone had ulterior motives and was a potential threat. She had to keep that front and center if she was to survive.
Tairin waited until no one was close enough to see her emerge from her hiding place. Setting a fast pace, she headed north. The delta spread on both sides of the road now and vegetation grew thickly, replacing more arid terrain. Avoiding people became impossible, so she settled for sprinkling magic to lessen the odds of anyone approaching her. Her spell suggested she was insignificant, not worth anyone’s time or trouble.
“So long as you don’t start believing that, we’ll be fine,” the wolf growled.
Its protectiveness touched her, but caring about anyone or anything was the source of why she hurt now. Easier to build walls around her mind and heart. Walls no one could penetrate.
Would Alexandria, where she was headed, be any less dangerous than Cairo? Both cities were ruled by the Ottoman Empire. She’d learned that much from her limited schooling in the caravan. She culled through her memory for what else she knew about both cities. She’d spent time in them with the Romani, but her experiences with kinfolk surrounding her weren’t relevant to a young woman traveling alone with all her possessions in a bag around her neck.
“Do you know anything about Alexandria?” she asked the wolf, pitching her voice very low. Her bondmate was a rich source of knowledge, but maybe not about cities.
“Vampires lurk there and a sickness fatal to humans, but not to shifters, sweeps through every once in a while.”
Tairin knew about the plague, an illness that made people bleed to death from the inside. Interesting—and a piece of welcome news—that she couldn’t fall prey to it anymore. The caravan had been in Alexandria during an outbreak, and they’d left as soon as word of the first deaths reached them.
Before the city herded everyone with symptoms outside and sealed its gates.
“Why would vampires pick Alexandria?” she asked, wanting to know more.
“They cull humans fresh off the ships and turn them. The city you call Alexandria hosts multitudes of temples dedicated to managing the vampire infestation. Still, it’s never been enough to wipe them out.”
She could see why. Vampires could add to their ranks in the blink of an eye. “I asked this before, but once they’re made, exactly how long does it take for new vampires to become a threat?”
“Many seasons must pass for them to come into their full power, but they’re a threat after they recover from being turned. Perhaps a single transit of the moon.”
Tairin shivered. Her run-in with vampires had been enough to convince her killing them was a worthy goal. Maybe one of those temples would take her on as an acolyte—if they accepted women. Isis, Bastet, and Nephthys had shrines in Alexandria, which suggested someone tended them. The host who’d ridden to Masud’s aide had all been men, but that didn’t mean women couldn’t be warriors too.
I have to find a place I can fit in. Somewhere I can do something besides running away and hiding.
She waited to hear what the wolf thought, but it remained silent. What had it said earlier? “This is one path you must tread alone. I can’t humor you out of your grief or your losses. They’re real. The pain will fade, but it will take time. I respect you too much to pretend your anguish isn’t real.”
“You have a good memory,” the wolf murmured. “None of that has changed.”
They walked in silence until the midday sun beat down on Tairin’s head. She longed for an actual shawl to throw over herself, but it wasn’t one of the items in her clothing sack. Besides, her ignore me spell was working, and she didn’t want to do anything to disturb it—like stopping to paw through her bag. Something like that would alert people—if anyone happened to be watching—that she did, indeed, have a few possessions.
A child’s enraged squalls rang from not far away. Tairin kept walking. The world was full of unhappy children, and she had problems of her own. The child’s wails grew in intensity, punctuated by the sound of an open hand slapping flesh. Once. Twice. Three times.
Move past.
Not my business.
Nothing I can do.
Tairin tried not to look as she drew closer, but the little one’s grief tugged at her heartstrings. The Romani may have broken many laws, but they treated children well—at least when they were small. Gypsy babies were fussed over and treated like little kings and queens by the entire caravan. The Rom viewed children as gifts from the goddess. They ensured the Romani people would be strong and continue.
The road wended between waterways in the delta, its lazy curves following the riverbank. She trotted around a corner and came to a halt, heartsick and disbelieving. A man swathed in nomad’s robes held a child of perhaps five by his feet. Suspended upside down, the child squalled. Red marks coated his small, naked body, and tears and snot streaked his face.
While Tairin stood staring, the man struck the boy again. “You stole from me,” the man thundered.
Between sobs, the little boy choked out that he hadn’t.
Others dressed similarly to the man milled about. Tairin counted six women and one more man. A group of naked children cowered behind the women, who were bunched to one side.
Was this a harem? One of those arrangements where men took multiple wives? She’d heard of such things, but never seen one before. At least according to other Romani, women in harems were hidden from public view.
The man slapped the child again.
“We need to move past before someone notices us,” the wolf prodded.
Sound advice, but Tairin stepped toward the tableau and dispersed her spell. “Excuse me.” She cleared her throat and kept her gaze downcast. Men didn’t like it if you looked directly at them.
The man holding the child trained harsh, dark eyes on her. “If you’re looking for coin, move on.”
The other man angled his head to look at her. “On the other hand, if you’re offering yourself for coin, I might take you up on it. One copper. Take it or leave it. I’m not interested in haggling.”
Tairin took a ragged bre
ath. This was a huge mistake, but she couldn’t hold herself back. “I didn’t stop to beg.” She closed her teeth over her lower lip so hard she tasted blood. “I heard the child crying and wanted to help. I could take him with me. Get him off your hands if he’s such a problem.”
Both men broke out laughing. The women all looked away.
“It’s a good offer,” Tairin insisted.
“How much will you give us?” The man holding the child cast a different kind of speculative glance her way.
Heat rose from her chest. Money. Of course. She was being stupid, and she’d put herself at risk for nothing. They could always put the boy up for auction at the slave market. He’d stopped wailing and had turned liquid dark eyes full of pleading her way.
“Sorry,” Tairin mumbled, looking away from the supplication in the child’s gaze. It tore her already damaged heart to tatters. “Sorry. I have nothing. I’ll be on my way.”
“Please,” the child cried. “Please, kind lady.”
Tairin plodded on to the sound of another slap. The last thing she needed was another mouth to feed, one that couldn’t live on fresh game like her and the wolf.
As if thinking about it drew it out, the wolf said, “Admirable, but ill-advised.”
At least it wasn’t berating her for sheer idiocy.
She faded off the main road, wanting to sit for a spell and gather her wits. Maybe it would save her from any more well-meaning but foolhardy acts. It didn’t take her shifter senses to alert her to someone following her.
Maybe they’re just heading for the water like me.
“This isn’t good,” the wolf said. “We should shift.”
“No. Too many people to see us.”
She zigged and zagged, but the same energy remained behind her. Finally, Tairin spun, summoning magic to deal with whomever was back there. The nomad who’d held the child smiled with a mouthful of teeth. His predatory expression didn’t bode anything good.
“I told you I was sorry—” she began just before pain exploded at the base of her skull. Must be the other man wielding a club. She twisted to see who’d hit her, but her vision blurred. Tairin tried to form more words, but he hit her again and her knees crumpled beneath her. Consciousness wavered and then faded away.