by Ellie Pond
“It’s going to be down for a while until we get closer to port.” While they had access to the internet for free, unlike the passengers, it wasn’t the best. Anna touched her shoulder.
“Right. Okay.”
“There are couples who have bonded without mating before, but it’s rare. Of course, bonding starts without mating. But . . .”
“Not like this.” Elizabeth turned her head. The door to the clinic opened, and she reached for her notes from Dr. Lila Garb’s research.
“It happens.” Anna returned to the check-in waiting room desk. Anna didn’t know about the research team she was part of before she came on board. Cancelling fated-mate bonds was a taboo subject and, since it wasn’t her focus anymore, Elizabeth didn’t bring it up and stayed clear of the subject.
14
Bound to Happen
“Violet, can we continue this later today? I didn’t get the best night’s sleep.” Tad looked down at the silk-clad witch. Or visionary, as Elizabeth had called her earlier.
“No. And if you’re going to be able to sleep, we need to do this now.”
“You’re sure?” He counted the doors as they sped by. What was he going to do—run from this petite little woman?
He glanced at her again. Her gaze held him. She had power, that was for sure. She reminded him of his Aunt Carol, Spencer’s mom, which was odd as she was human and not a witch. He patted her arm and uncharacteristically gave in. The hatred between the witches and wolves was centuries old. Or at least perception made it feel that way. In reality, it had been going on for the last sixty years. With shifters and witches, both made terrible choices along the way. The worst happened only twenty-eight years ago, close to their pack’s homestead.
Violet’s door flew open, and they walked in. Parlor tricks—he wasn’t a fan. It closed behind them. The girl he had helped last night stood by the door, Sam. He chuckled. That vow to help others certainly hadn’t been helping him lately.
Sam’s brow rose. “You said he was okay.”
“No recent damage. Doesn’t mean the Mutt didn’t already have problems.” She waved her hand at Sam, and Sam’s eyes flashed in anger before she recomposed herself. She opened her mouth, but no words flew out. She closed her mouth and tilted her head at Violet, her shoulders slumped.
Tad raised his hand. “Theodore Larsen. I’m not a fan of that slur.”
Violet circled him wide, her tiny feet fluttering. Her robe flapped open. Did this woman—scratch that, witch—ever wear clothes? She looked him over. And then she circled again, holding her palm in the air to him. Tad glanced at Sam with his eyebrows raised in question. Sam pursed her lips.
Noted. She wasn’t an ally. Perhaps he wouldn’t help her next time. Unfortunately, knowing himself, he would. Damn ethics.
Violet put her hand down. “All right. You damaged your ward. It’s what saved you, so you should thank your mom when you see her next. I’m taking it the rest of the way down. Your ward keeps other witches from knowing your mutt blood, and your binding keeps your powers locked down. Your bindings are unraveling and your ward was damaged. And your mom gave you a different type of ward. More effective than most, but also . . .” She scrutinized him. “You must be experiencing some emotions that you’ve never known.”
“Emotions I can handle. You can’t take my ward off. Are you trying to get my family killed?” He paused. “Spencer doesn’t know about my mother’s being a witch. If he finds out, he won’t be able to do business with the council as an alpha.” He never thought he had a ward. He inwardly groaned. That in itself was a spell—that he didn’t think about his mother’s magic.
“Yes, that creates an issue for you, not me. And my problem? I must tackle it first.”
Sam cleared her throat and tapped her toe.
“Okay, then.” Violet released Sam’s voice. “Be careful what you say.”
Sam touched her throat and cleared it softly. “You—you understand having the wolves and us going back to full-on war will be a problem for us, right?”
“Of course it will.” She waved her hand at Sam again, and Sam pursed her lips. “Once I contain and piece together the vision from both of you, we will bypass the blood . . . Patience.”
“Vision? Blood what?” Tad said.
“Take a seat.” Violet ignored his question and sat on the floor on her heels. There was nothing to sit on; the only chair in the room was a high stool by a computer at the far wall. So he sat on the floor with Violet, but on his butt. He had tried yoga once, and that sitting on your heels thing hurt. Violet motioned to Sam, who joined them.
“You are not going to take my wards down. I don’t have this vision you want . . .”
“I know you don’t. At least not right now. But with your ward broken, it’s in there.”
Sam tapped her hand on the ground.
“You can’t sense it yet. It’s dangerous for you and for us.” Violet retied her robe.
Sam tapped her hand again.
“It’s dangerous. But most of the danger is to myself and Sam.” Violet crossed her arms over her chest. “Happy now?”
Sam nodded once. Why was Violet muting her?
“I want my memories I was denied,” said Tad. “But I don’t want to start a war, which will happen if it comes out I’m a witch and have power. The witches aren’t going to be happy that a shifter has power, and the other packs aren’t going to be happy that the Hundsburg pack has magic they don’t. Why would I let you take my ward off, and possibly cause a war for my family, for a vision that I may have but might not?”
Sam shrugged. Not an ally, he reminded himself.
“It’s there.” Violet’s voice sprang around the cabin.
For having a mother as a witch, he knew remarkably little about them. He’d met some during his time in New York City and steered clear of them to protect his own business interests.
He remembered seeing his mother preform a spell one night outside. It was a few years after his dad died; she told him he shouldn’t tell anyone. And holy schmuck, she put a spell on him to keep his little mouth shut. The ward and binding already in place, she added the spell to keep him from even thinking of magic. She didn’t take away his knowledge, but she kept him from spilling the secret.
The truce between witches and wolves wasn’t that old at the time. What she did made sense, but in the thirty years since then she could have found the time to have a conversation with her oldest child. Did his brother or three sisters know? He’d never talked to them about it either. He had more spells on him than Violet had skin products. His world was cracking open.
“That doesn’t work for me.” Tad stood up, but a tether crumpled him to the ground, as if the floor was a magnet and he was the metal. He lay on the floor with most of his body held to it, his face to the orange circle on the floor. With his head turned, he could barely see Sam out of the corner of his eye.
Violet stalked him. “Good, your attention is important. As a visionary for the council, I wield much power.” She paused, whether for effect or in thought he didn’t know and he didn’t care. He wanted off this damn floor, and when he got it he would rip into her. “Not as much as the great oracle.”
“May grace return her to us,” Sam and Violet chanted together.
He had officially had enough. He squirmed but couldn’t move off the floor. Piece of shit.
“As I was saying, I’m at the top in our coven. Now that your ward is down, you are at the bottom of the coven. My power is closer to that of the oracle.”
“May grace return her to us,” Sam said. Violet glared at Sam.
Right, got it: all glory to the oracle, but not too much. And ego, woman? He didn’t know much about their oracle. But she had been reincarnating for hundreds of years. Violet was no oracle, but she was doing the whole smoke and mirrors of one. He blinked at Violet.
She waved her hand, and he could peel himself off the floor.
He glanced at Sam, who looked away.
“I’
m not ignorant. I can’t set you out in the world long term without putting a different ward on you. There are those who will be able to tell that you have powers and are a shifter. You upset the balance of things. I admit your mother and friend did a splendid job. Her daughter will be a talented witch now that her powers are unbinding themselves.”
Friend? As in Aurora’s mother.
“I see you are learning about your family this morning. I’m glad you didn’t mate the doctor last night. I wouldn’t want to put her through this process too. And it’s not . . . well, it’s not enjoyable.”
He looked to Sam, but her expression only confirmed what Violet said.
“It’s also more complicated than normal. Sam recklessly started the process the night you found her by the well. It overwhelmed her too. Sam has to take the vision—I made a promise to not see it. But there are a lot more visions that you are holding and I will have to take the rest. Lovely Sam here hasn’t done this before. So you have to help her.”
“I haven’t done this either. How the hell do you think I can help her?”
“By staying on your side of the line. Don’t go into her memories. Now, back on your heels. Next to the dot on the floor.”
Stupid yoga. He sat on his heels. “Now what?”
“The next step is easy. Don’t think. You’re a wolf; that should come naturally to you.”
At that, his wolf wanted to leap out of his chest.
Violet moved closer so the three of them almost touched in a triangle. She took the orb from last night out of her pocket and placed it on the floor in front of them.
“You don’t have to be afraid of this, Theodore. I will use its energy to remove the rest of your wards. You will see things you haven’t thought of in years. The memories will be full of emotion; move past them as quickly as possible. Close your eyes.” Violet crossed her arms. Her robe rustled. “When your mother bound your powers, she took it a little further. A little too far: she bound more than your powers. She bound some of your pain as well. You might find, with the ward down now, that some memories you are about to see are colored in a new . . . way.”
Sam mouthed ‘sorry’ to him.
Reluctantly, Tad did as Violet instructed. His body convulsed. Memories came at him like flashing lights on a subway train. But the pain in each experience stabbed at him. His first shift, fights on the playground, poor grades—all of them rushed at him, more physiological pain than he had ever dealt with. Girlfriends from New York that he didn’t think he cared about . . . watching them leave in his visions gripped him.
And then he was on the ship, Elizabeth telling him to get out this morning. It made his head want to explode. He wanted to run from the spot, but a force kept him tethered. Then visions of people he didn’t know ran through him. As if he was watching a movie. Sam was with him now. He saw her and then she was a child watching her mother being beaten. Tears rolled down her cheeks.
Focus. He heard a voice. Focus.
The people came at him again. The ones that he never met. These weren’t painful at all. Couples laughing. Couples dancing. Babies being born. Couple after couple. Shifters and humans.
He controlled the visions and slowed them down when he paid more attention to the details in them. He moved on to the next slower and, instead of rushing by, the visions faded in and out. Sweat poured down his face. It dripped into his lap.
One vision faded out and the next one in. He slowed this one down to single pictures . . . because his cousin Gunnar was laughing. This wasn’t a memory. He didn’t know the kitchen in question. He would have remembered it because it couldn’t have been more opposite to Gunnar’s. White cabinets and miles of black granite. A woman with long brown hair and an orange-flowered dress laughed, causing Gunnar to laugh too. Not his I-just-played-a-prank-on-you laugh. Not a laugh that sprang out. Tad tried to focus harder, remembering details, slowing it down, but it faded out.
The next one came fast. A dragon. A dragon with sparking crystals on the shoulders of its blue-black wings landed on the side of the ship on a plank. The ship rocked. And for the first time he could hear words. This vision lurched at him in anger. “You can’t stop me,” a female voice said. Tad searched for the voice. A figure came into view; she wore white. Other than that, he couldn’t make anything out. The more he peered at her, the blurrier she became. That was the last thing he saw before he opened his eyes.
His shirt stuck to him from sweat. “I have it. It’s more than I could get, too.”
“Interesting. Perhaps more witch than mutt after all. Were you able to get the normal visions too this time, Sam?”
“Yes, seeing them for a second time, I will recall them all, and then you can cleanse me.”
“Okay, I will cleanse you now, then, Theodore.”
“What do you mean ‘cleanse’ me?”
“Violet will take it from your memory.” Sam said.
“All of it? No.” Tad shook his head. “That first part, my childhood. That was the pain my ward protected me from?”
“Yes. A wonderful gift or curse from your mother. You’ll have to decide.”
“No, you are not taking it from me. That pain lived there, and it’s there now. Leave it and me alone.” Tad stood up, his legs weak from the encounter.
“If I don’t take it, you’ll have the rest of it with you.”
“What—people falling in love, babies being born? I think I can handle it.”
Sam motioned to Violet. “It’s not like he’s drinking from the vision well daily as you do. Let him keep it; it shouldn’t damage him. He has innate abilities. He should be okay.”
“Should,” Violet said. “And what if he’s not? To remove a vision is more complicated as time passes.”
“I will live with it.”
“You can tell no one your visions. That is not for you to share. None of it.”
“I understand.”
“I need to bind your powers and rebuild your ward to some extent like your mother’s. But your mother’s ward isn’t one that I can duplicate. Things might be different for you. Not as different as they’ve been the last twelve hours.”
He nodded.
“Now sit back down so I can re-bind your powers and ward. You are stronger than I gave you credit for.”
Tad sat back on his numb heels again and Violet muttered things around him while he had his eyes closed. Some of it reminded him of a long-ago forgotten lullaby. As she finished, relief filled him. The onslaught of emotions slowed to a trickle: still there, but not as strong. He trembled, like after a terrible trip to the spa with a rough masseuse. It felt amazing when it stopped. He wandered down the hall to the stairs, intending to go to his cabin, when his stomach let out a loud protest. Food first. Cry second.
The ship’s horn let out three long blasts and then nothing. Tad shuffled down the corridor. A crew member raced past him and shouted back at him. “Nothing to be alarmed about, sir.” The crewman disappeared up the service stairs.
15
Re-check
“Aurora, you’re going to be just fine. Nurse Smithfield will take you for an X-ray just to be sure,” Katie, the physician’s assistant, said.
“The X-ray machine is fixed now?” Tad leaned back and crossed his arms. Where was the doctor? He glanced out the door. “Dr. Cottage isn’t here?” He could smell her scent coming down the corridor.
“Yes, the machine is fixed. And she’s here but not available. If we see something, we can send Aurora to the hospital on the island day after tomorrow. This isn’t an injury we would helicopter lift out for.”
She didn’t want to see him. He resisted the urge to growl.
“Helicopter lift? I might need to leave the ship?”
“No, no. Not at all. As I was saying, I think you will be fine with an X-ray. And we’ll look at the results.” Katie put her hand on her hip.
Tad pursed his lips. “I would like to examine the X-ray when it’s done.”
“I’ll have Nurse Smithfield bri
ng it in here.”
“Thank you.”
“X-ray now, and we’ll do another check tomorrow morning.” Katie darted into the hallway.
Aurora turned to Tad. “You didn’t need to be so rude.”
“I wasn’t rude.” Tad studied his designer shoes. “You know she’s a witch. Her and her friend.”
“Who—the physician assistant, Katie? That’s not nice, Tad.”
“No, not Katie. Lauren. Lauren and Michele. They’re witches.”
“Lauren isn’t a witch.”
“I saw it last night. Michele made a garbage can fall down a flight of stairs during Duncan’s match.”
“Why would she do that?”
“To distract Duncan’s opponent. It worked, too.” Tad shrugged. Last night, Michele’s actions confused the heck out of him. Why would the witch care who won? She had no vested interest in Duncan.
“Come on. Lauren isn’t a witch. I lived with her for almost two years.”
“And you can spot witches?”
“Sure.”
“I can assure you, Aurora, you can’t, because they are both witches.” As are we. But he didn’t say it. Couldn’t say it.
Aurora’s eyes widened. She was understanding.
Anna came in, hands on her hips. Her gaze pierced him before she turned to Aurora. “Katie asked me to come in. She’s reviewed the X-ray. Nothing is broken. But they want you to come in tomorrow morning.”
“I can do that.” Aurora glanced at her watch. “Is there anything else? Can I get back to the tournament?”
“Sure. Mr. Larsen wants to examine the X-ray. But it’s going to be a minute. Katie is busy.”
“I don’t need her help to interpret a simple X-ray.” Tad left the plastic chair and crossed the room to Anna.
“That’s what she said you would say. She insists that if you want to look at her X-ray, you can wait.” Nurse Anna crossed her arms over her chest, not backing down. That was happening a lot today.