A Shift in the Air

by Patricia D. Eddy

  “’Fire…life. Love…loss…transform.’ The words mean nothing to me.” The whiskey burned as she tossed the shot back, and she slammed the glass down on the table. “I can’t read a fucking ancient language that no one’s used in thousands of years. This is our hope? Our answer?”

  “Caitlin.” Cade leaned forward and pierced her with his luminous stare. In the dim light of the back room, his eyes glowed with the animal inside. “If you can’t break the charm, we’ll break the connection for you. I’ll end him. If he’s dead, the charm fades, right?”

  “I…don’t know. Katerina’s didn’t. But Fergus never imbued an object with his power. So…maybe?” Fergus dead. The idea had seemed logical an ocean away, but now, here, seeing him in the flesh...could she kill him—or allow him to be killed? She’d never wanted that. Not truly. The boy she’d once known, his kindness shrouded in fear, had been corrupted by power, turned into a vicious tyrant. After everything he’d done, she didn’t wish him dead. Punished, jailed, locked away so he couldn’t harm anyone again. But dead? Her sense of justice warred with her terror over Liam—and would killing Fergus even save Liam? Or had he already succumbed to Fergus’s insanity?

  “You saw him, Cade. He nearly took you out. We’re no match for him.”

  “We were unprepared.” Cade’s stubborn gaze never wavered. “Now we know what we’re dealing with. This many wolves against him, he doesn’t stand a chance, charms or no. Where would he take Liam?”

  Caitlin pondered his question, the fog around her brain dissipating in the wake of strong whiskey. “When we were young, he’d lock me in a basement when he was angry—a punishment if I tried to escape him.” Her blunt honesty must have surprised Cade, and he dropped his eyes. Despite their tenuous beginnings, the beginnings of a familial bond wove around the small group huddled at the table. “I think his home is in Lahinch. If I saw the road, I could probably find my way.”

  Cade stood. “Then let’s go.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The fifteen-minute ride to Lahinch felt like an hour. Caitlin curled against the door, burrowing into Liam’s leather jacket her. She should have told Liam one last time that she loved him. What if they were too late?

  Farren hadn’t said a word since the pub. Losing Colin to Fergus and Brian’s death stole the light from her eyes. Caitlin reached over and squeezed her hand.

  “Turn here,” Caitlin said.

  Cade angled the car down a one-lane road, past a farm with a dozen goats, then an abandoned shack missing a wall. Lowering the window, Caitlin inhaled deeply. Fresh grass, a recent rain shower, and the rich leather of Liam’s jacket. His spicy scent infused the lining, and she tried to remember his hands on her skin, his lips on hers. But Fergus hovered at the back of her mind, looming, ready to compel her at her weakest.

  “There.” Ahead on the right, the fence still leaned, though paint peeled off in ribbons. Up on the rise, a burned-out shell of the home stood sentry over the countryside, a single support beam and a handful of planks all that remained. The walls—thick knotty pine that warded off the worst of Ireland’s damp chill—had disintegrated into ash. The lone watchman, a five-foot-tall chimney, listed, a collection of stones gathered at the base.

  Cade passed the home and rounded a bend in the road, finding a makeshift pullout next to a hedgerow of blackberries. He turned in the driver’s seat. “We stick together. Farren and I will shift. Mara, you’re with Caitlin. If Fergus is there, you can’t let her go with him.”

  “I won’t.”

  Cade cupped Mara’s cheek. “Are you sure you’re up for this?”

  She leaned forward and kissed him gently, but when she pulled back, the strength in her voice had Caitlin’s eyes widening. “Liam’s my brother. I won’t give up on him, and I won’t let his mate fall victim to that fucking asshole who tried to kill all of us. Stop treating me like I’m broken.”

  Broken. The word fit, despite Mara’s objection to the term. Something about Katerina’s element broke her. Caitlin prayed that the book would fix her. But for now, they had to find Liam.

  Cade and Farren stripped off their clothes in the fading light of dusk. As the sun dipped below the horizon, the sky flared with oranges, purples, and reds. So much beauty all around her, and Caitlin saw only darkness approaching.

  As the werewolves dropped to their hands and knees, Caitlin couldn’t look away. Bones popped and cracked, skin rippled. Farren’s small, firm breasts shrank back into her body, and a magnificent white tail sprouted from her rump. Her wolf stood proudly, all silver and white fur and glistening teeth.

  Next to her, Cade’s steel and flaxen fur rippled in the breeze, and Caitlin stared with her mouth agape.

  “Wow.”

  Farren made a soft sound of pride and tossed her head back, curving her dark lips into what Caitlin thought had to be a smile. With Cade at her side, they made a formidable welcoming committee. Mara twirled a flashlight as she got out of the car. “Come on. If Liam’s here, we’re going to get him back.”

  Creeping slowly, picking their way over rocks and culverts through a neighboring field, they reached a squat stone wall just behind the ruins of the home. Tall grasses billowed in the breeze, hiding the wolves, and fog surrounded Caitlin and Mara, evidence of the water elemental’s charms.

  The wolves sailed over the wall with ease, but Mara grunted as she climbed after them. “A little help?”

  Caitlin sent a bit of her element towards Mara at the same time she cupped her hands under Mara’s foot and gave her a boost. The two women landed gently on the other side of the wall, inches from what had once been the basement doors.

  Now, a dark stairway into an earthen maw greeted them, the steps worn by wind and rain and time. Cade descended with a low growl, charging ahead with his head lowered. Farren followed quickly with bared teeth. Caitlin and Mara kept as close as they could.

  Fergus loved this room, and Caitlin shuddered as she passed under the house’s rotting foundation. Memories of her time here streamed through her mind, aching for fresh air, fearful of his return, praying for the sanity to reclaim him.

  They spilled out into the small basement, no bigger than twenty feet square, and Mara swept the flashlight beam over everything. “Goddess.”

  Nothing had changed. A metal bed frame with the remains of a frayed and rotting mattress leaned against the far wall opposite a small bathroom. A table next to the bed offered a collection of books. Caitlin lifted one of them and watched as the pages disintegrated into dust.

  “He’d lock me down here when he needed to ‘teach me a lesson,’” she said. “Every time he brought me back to him. Days. Sometimes up to a week or two. I hate being underground. No fresh air, no sunlight. The last time…he kept asking about Liam. I couldn’t resist him…”

  “Focus.” Mara clutched Caitlin’s shoulders. “Let’s get out of here.”

  They returned to the stairs, the wolves at their heels.

  “Where else can we go?”

  Caitlin searched her memories, trying to visualize a life she still hadn’t quite reconciled as her own. She found the massive structure in her mind’s eye, the imposing shadow suggesting more mystery than fear. Would Fergus go there? They’d been children when she’d been there last. But something about the castle resounded within her, and she nodded as she worked through the details, her words tumbling out. “Halfway between Doolin and Lisdoonvarna, there’s an old, abandoned castle. We used to work charms there as children. The wind races right up the hillside from the sea. He’ll be strong there, and no one’s lived within those walls for a century.”

  Cade’s wolf growled.

  Mara gestured back towards the car “I’m pretty sure that’s wolf for ‘let’s go.’”

  ***

  Five stories tall, with great, gaping windows that let the wind howl through the spires, the old castle rose from the mists, illuminated only by the last vestiges of dusk and the headlights of Cade’s rental car.

  He and Farren b
roke the lock on the gate, and the four of them raced inside, two-by-two. The wolves bounded to the top of the main tower with their snarls and rough vocalizations carrying down the crumbling stone steps. Caitlin and Mara took a more cautious route, needing flashlights to guard against the uneven ground. At the top, they spilled out into a cavernous room, empty save for a few patches of moss in the corners. Only paw prints disturbed the dust on the floor.

  “He hasn’t been here,” Caitlin said and sagged against the wall next to one of the largest windows. The glass had broken decades ago, long before she and Fergus had found the place and claimed this room as their own. Memories of youthful charms—her bouncing rocks upon the air, him rippling the ground below like a ribbon—brought the melody of laughter and comfort to her ears. They’d been happy then, free and full of dreams. When had such joy turned into such pain?

  She gazed out over the sloping hillside. From here, she could see all the way down to the water. An unearthly glow shimmered at the edge of the horizon. The wolves scrambled through the rest of the structure, their toenails scraping against the weathered stone all around her and into the other, barely-accessible spires that Caitlin knew had to be empty. She couldn’t sense Fergus, and even if he’d used her air to hide him and Liam, she’d have felt something if they were close. A vague presence, the missing part of her reaching for Fergus, or the tug of her heart towards Liam.

  A luminous, yellow moon, peaceful and calm along the barrier between sea and sky, rose. Mesmerized, Caitlin tracked the movement from a sliver to a wedge, and finally, glorious fullness, illuminating the lands for miles. A blazing arc of light stretched over the water, and behind them, two wolves howled mournfully.

  Deep in her core, a yearning she’d never known twisted and stabbed, and she braced her hands on the edge of the stone and screamed into the night, “Liam!”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Without light, time stretched out in endless agony. The scent of dirt heavy with moisture surrounded him, along with a vague hint of the sea. Lying on his side with his broken leg bent underneath his bulk, every breath sent him closer to the edge. The wound at his collarbone throbbed, though the bleeding might have stopped.

  Rolling onto his back sent him into pain-induced oblivion again, and he came to with a whimper. Seconds, minutes, or hours later he couldn’t tell.

  Reaching for his wolf, he fought against Fergus’s charm. His fingers twitched and burned with the start of the shift, but before the bones in his hands broke, an invisible force locked around his chest, and he couldn’t breathe. The beast faded, gnawing inside of him. He tried again, and again, until exhaustion and anguish turned him into a shivering, shaking mess.

  The moon. Searing pain fractured his mind, the wolf slamming against the chains that bound him, and the desperate need to claim his mate giving him a burst of strength that took him by surprise. He pushed to one knee, bracing his hand against the cold, stone surrounding him.

  “Caitlin.” The single word, scraping over vocal cords raw from screaming, brought a measure of comfort. He’d know, wouldn’t he? If Fergus had killed her? Somehow, he’d know if his mate died. Ignore the pain. Get up. You break bones all the time. Repeating the pep talk, he pressed his palms to the cool floor and tried to force his broken leg straight.

  His prison shook and dumped him to his side with a mournful howl that faded into a gasp. The door slammed open with a screech of metal and a deafening crash. Blinding light seared his eyes, and Liam winced and turned away—the only movement he could manage.

  A giant thundered into the room, and rough hands grabbed Liam by the arms and shoved him against the wall. He blinked rapidly to adjust his vision. Fergus’s dark eyes swam into focus, wild with anger.

  “You touched my Catie. You turned her against me.” He shook Liam hard enough to slam his head into the rough stones. Blood spurted from the resultant wound and rolled down the back of his neck.

  Groaning, Liam struggled against Fergus’s hold, but too weak, he let his head fall forward—at least he didn’t have to look at the bastard. “Ya did that all yerself, ya fucker.”

  Liam sailed across the small room, hitting the other wall with a sickening pop in his shoulder. Agony sliced down his arm, and after a few seconds, his hand went numb. Then his elbow, and then everything up to his shoulder.

  “She belongs to me. I hold her element. We’re closer than any lovers could ever be.” Spittle flew as Fergus bit off the words, but even as he raged, Liam sensed his insecurity. “And you thought you could come between us? Thought you could steal her away? Mate with her? Make her stronger? I’m in control. Me.”

  Liam inched away, using his good leg and one functioning arm to crawl towards the door. But Fergus grabbed his ankle and yanked him back. Liam’s scream echoed through the room with a howlish tenor, and spots floated in his vision.

  “Did you take her from me eleven years ago? Did you?” Fergus kicked his midsection, his ribs creaking with the assault.

  “No,” he gasped. Caitlin’s words rushed back to him. “A part of him didn’t want to hurt me.”

  Liam’s breath rattled, his tongue coated in a metallic tang. “Ya hurt her, Fergus. Ye’re hurting her now. Don’t ya take something to keep ya from doing so? Where are your pills?” If he could get Fergus to medicate, maybe he’d have a chance.

  Fergus stopped, took a step back, and pressed his hands against his temples. “Catie,” he wailed and thrashed his head from side to side. “No. I protected her.”

  “She’s in pain now. Ya don’t want her in pain, do ya?” Liam couldn’t manage more than a whisper. Fergus stood between him and the door. Another foot and he could slip past the elemental—if you could call his torturously slow movements “slipping.”

  Fergus dropped his hands, and his eyes narrowed. “She’s hurtin’ because she’s not with me. Because ya took her away and turned her against me. Catie loves me. She needs me.”

  “Caitlin needs her element back.” Liam gained another inch. The moon fuzzed his thoughts as his wolf railed, and he stifled the urge to whimper. “Make her whole, Fergus. Release the charm on me and let me shift so I can go to her. I’ll help her. And you.”

  “Catie can help me.” Fergus’s voice cracked, softening into the voice of a child, pained and desperate. Then he shook his head and slammed his fist against his heart. “Ya fucked her, didn’t ya? Did what I couldn’t? Turned her against me and everything we could be together!”

  The suffering youth inside Fergus faded away, and the snarling, insane man returned with a roar, and the world shook around them.

  “Let me help ya,” Liam said, taking advantage of Fergus’s confusion. He stretched out his good arm towards the door. Another minute, maybe two, of distraction, and he could escape—though without his wolf, he didn’t know what he’d do once he got out of this room. “Ye’re in pain, yeah? I can help make ya whole again. Ya need your meds.”

  Fergus retreated into his own little world of sorrow, childlike in his movements. His broad shoulders collapsed inward, and he hunched, his lower lip jutting out. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a prescription bottle. Pills rattled as his hand shook.

  “That’s right, man. Ya need one of those pills. Or two.”

  “I need Catie.” He squeezed his head again, harder, the veins popping in his neck. “And ya took her from me. Tried to make her better than me. But ya failed. If I kill you, she’ll love me again. She can help me be whole.”

  The boy disappeared as frantic energy overtook him again. Fergus’s hand shot out, and he grabbed Liam by the throat. The ground rumbled as a crushing weight pressed down on Liam’s chest. His breath stifled as he wheezed against the pressure. With his good hand, he clawed at Fergus’s hold, but the earth elemental laughed. The raspy, hysterical noise quickly faded into the roar of Liam’s own heartbeat in his ears.

  Seconds before losing consciousness, Fergus released him.

  Liam crumpled to the ground, gasping for air. “Is that what
ya did to her?” He coughed, tears burning in his eyes. “Ye’re hurting me, Fergus. Like ya hurt her. Every time ya hit her, punished her, ya hurt her. She threw herself off the fuckin’ cliffs to escape.”

  “Where is she? I need her.” Innocent and hesitant, Fergus made a childish plea. “Please.”

  “Fergus, I know ya didn’t mean to hurt her. Ya shouldn’t have to suffer like this.” Liam could barely get the words out, and Fergus’s face swam in and out of focus. “Let me go to her—I’ll release my hold on her. Send her to you.”

  “If I let you go, ye’re going to take her away.”

  Liam struggled to lift his head, his gaze pleading as he stared into the unending pain swimming in Fergus’s eyes. He couldn’t survive much more torture, and his wolf strained against the pull of the moon, begging for freedom. “Fergus, I know you love her. I can help—talk to her for ya.”

  Fergus’s eyes softened as he fell to his knees. A gentle hand brushed Liam’s throat, as though when Fergus looked at him, he saw blue eyes alight with silver and coiling strands of chestnut hair. “I need her. So much.” His fingers caressed Liam’s jaw, the harsh stubble there hardening his gaze. Disgust tightened his lips, destroying any illusions of escape Liam had.

  As Fergus dropped his other hand to Liam’s neck, his grip tightened into a vise. Liam struggled against the hold, but exhaustion and blood loss left him helpless. Darkness slid over him like a warm blanket, taking away the pain and the fear, welcoming him home for the final time.

  “I need her,” Fergus repeated, his voice a harsh whisper in the blackness. “Your death will bring her back to me.”