by Ann Gimpel
“Shifters date to the making of the world,” he began. “Meara was one of the first. She flew out of heat and light when this world spun out of the sun…”
Chapter 11
Elliott glanced at his watch again. It was almost midnight. An assortment of shifters had begun arriving several hours before, and they were still showing up in groups of twos and threes. He’d asked the first ones about Tairin, and they’d reassured him she’d be along. She had to shift, whereas they’d traveled as humans. Unlike the Romani, they’d made a full transition to motorized vehicles. Some rode motorcycles, but most came in an assortment of cars and trucks. The courtyard where he kept Flame was quite crowded. Enough so, he hoped all the vehicles didn’t draw unwanted attention from the Reich.
Driving after curfew was an offense punishable by internment in a prison camp, but none of the shifters appeared concerned. Perhaps they had ways of shielding their vehicles with magic. He would have asked, but the presence of so many of those he’d heretofore considered enemies was unsettling.
He’d accepted their explanations about Tairin, but enough time had elapsed he was growing concerned. Had the shifters done something to her? He thought it through, and it didn’t make sense. If they’d killed her, then why bother to show up in his grotto? He considered, and then discarded, summoning a vision to track her. His last attempt at scrying had gone horribly awry, and he didn’t want to give the shifters reason to see him as incompetent. Besides, the level of concentration he’d need wasn’t possible with so many shifters milling about, moving in and out of his room as they wandered from the passageway to the courtyard and back inside.
In truth, that many Rom would have interrupted his ability to concentrate too.
All of them had said the same thing, even a grumpy, dour wolf shifter. Tairin was with her father and someone named Meara, and all three would arrive as soon as they could.
A different brand of shifter energy buffeted his raw nerve endings. The swoosh of wings announced an enormous black and gray vulture. It flew through the doorway and landed on his shoulder, its talons cutting deep.
“You must be the one,” the newcomer said in mind speech. Lidless, amber eyes regarded him intently.
“I’m afraid you need to say a bit more than that,” Elliott replied in kind.
The bird nipped his ear with its beak. “You’re supposed to be a seer. What kind of seer requires information about future events?”
“The kind who hasn’t had sufficient privacy to cast any sort of spell for the last several hours.” He hurried on before the shifter could chide him further. “Do you know where Tairin is?”
“Who am I?” The bird didn’t answer his question, instead asking one of its own.
Elliott pushed outward with magic, seeking information about the bird still perched on his shoulder. Talons flexed hard enough blood trickled down his chest. Images filled his mind, and he sorted through them.
“You’re old,” he ventured. “Maybe as old as the earth. Your human form is female. You’re the prophet for your people.” He rammed his power forward, but ran into an impenetrable wall. “That’s all you’ll let me see.”
The vulture clacked its beak together. Light so bright Elliott had to shut his eyes surrounded them, and magic rose, pungent with the scent of clay baked under a sun far hotter than it ever shone in Germany. Herbs mingled with the clay smell, rosemary and fresh cut hay. When the light faded, a woman as tall as himself stood before him. Gray hair shrouded her from the crown of her head to her feet, and she was thin to the point of emaciation. Her eyes were the same warm amber as the vulture’s, with ringed, avian pupils.
The other shifters left the room. Had she ordered them out? Or did her people find her as intimidating as he did?
“You must be who the others call Meara,” Elliott said. “No other women here.”
“I am. What you couldn’t puzzle through with magic, you solved by deductive logic. I would have your name in return.”
Heat rose to his face. “Sorry. I’m Elliott Brend, and I am seer for the Romani caravans in Germany.” He bowed formally.
Meara bowed back. When she straightened, she said, “Are the Romani prepared to join us in battle?”
“At the point I left the group, the answer to that was yes. But we’ve gone back and forth, nor are all of us of one mind—except regarding the necessity of dealing with the vampires, so they can’t add any more of their insidious strength to the Reich.”
“Good that you’re honest with me.” Her nostrils flared. She reached a long-nailed index finger forward and plucked his amulet out from beneath his shirt. It hung from a length of leather, ripe with the smells of garlic and freshly turned earth. “This is newly made.”
It wasn’t a question, so he nodded. “We crafted three for each of our groups. It won’t stop a vampire, but we’re hoping for some small level of protection from their mind control power. Originally, we’d planned on an amulet for each of us, but it takes time to create some of the ingredients, so we went with what we had.”
Meara narrowed her eyes to slits and let the amulet drop back against his chest. “Holy water, consecrated earth, rosary beads, and bits of a crucifix all mixed with garlic. Where the hell did you get such items? You’re not any more Christian than we are.”
“Where else? From a church. The clergy aren’t kindly disposed toward vampires or anything wicked. Only difference between holy men and most humans is they believe in evil, so it didn’t take much talking to convince a couple of priests we needed their help.”
“But you’re Romani.” The word rolling off her tongue sounded like a curse. “I’d have expected you to steal what you needed.”
The Rom did have a long, colorful history as thieves, and her statement was too close to true for him to be offended. “We considered it, but the thing about holy water and consecrated earth is they require a priest’s blessing. We had no idea if you’d help us, so we concocted a plan on our own. It entailed sixty of us, five for each vampire. The amulets were an important part of buying us enough time to stake the vampires.”
“Can you make more of those things?”
Her question took him by surprise. “The amulets? Shifters would wear something crafted with Romani magic?”
“If it keeps us safer, of course.” Meara drew herself straight. “In the old days, all of us worked together—except vampires. We must close ranks again—lay our differences aside—or all of us will perish. I’ve seen it in my glass.”
Elliott tried to stop himself, but words blurted out. “Last time I looked toward the future, I raised a demon. Tried to send him back to Hell, but he was too strong. I haven’t scryed since then, but I’ve spent time with our lore books, and they all say much the same as you just did. They also suggested that our combined power is stronger than either of us working alone. Is that true?”
“Yes and no. If the combination ‘takes’ we become stronger. Tairin is an example of that. But some combinations don’t work nearly that well—or at all. It seems related more to an individual’s magical vibrations, not what type of magic wielder they are.”
Elliott thought about it. “When we pair up to fight the vampires, we’ll have to be careful we don’t pair any of the Romani with shifters whose energies aren’t compatible.”
“Aye. You’ve got a quick mind. You asked about Tairin. She and Jamal will be here soon. I feel them closing on us. If you were to look, I imagine you’d sense the same thing.”
Hope raged through him like an out of control wildfire, and he sent magic skimming outward. Tairin was indeed near, and he wanted to run past Meara to meet her.
“The woman you love will be here soon enough. You and I aren’t yet done, and you will remain until we are.” Meara had clearly intuited his thoughts about intercepting Tairin. Probably not much of a feat, given the power cloaking her in multicolored light.
“What else do we need to cover?”
“Do you have materials for two dozen more amulets
? I actually agree with your first plan, the one that included one for each person fighting the vampires.”
Elliott thought about it. “Probably not, but I was the one who approached the Catholic priest—actually he was a Bishop. He said if I needed more, to let him know.”
“Excellent. It saves time if we don’t have to figure out how to get our hands on such things. We will remain here. A sorcerer once lived in this castle, and bits of his energy remain. Enough to keep us safe from prying eyes. Vampires are strongest at night. We will attack day after tomorrow midday.”
Elliott wasn’t at all certain they’d be ready by then, but he wasn’t about to contradict her. “This blending of energies. Can you tell which of us will pair well with a particular shifter?”
“Of course. Once the amulets are ready, all the Romani who will be part of this mission will congregate here. We will divide into our twelve groups, move into position, and finish off that nest. Once we’re done, we’ll have to burn the remains. There may not be much, depending on how old these vampires are. I have yet to figure how to finesse that part because no magic known to me will mask that amount of smoke.”
“What did you mean about not being much left? I know very little about vampires, and our lore books said nothing about burning them, although that makes good sense.”
Meara pursed her lips into a straight line. “When a vampire dies, its body reverts to its actual age. If we kill one that’s several centuries old, its corporeal form will shatter into a heap of decomposing bones.”
“Fascinating. Not much to burn there.”
She angled her head to one side. “No. But the odds of all twelve vampires being that old are very thin. Usually there are one or two old ones and an assortment of others that they've turned to create their pod or nest.”
“Assuming we prevail during this current battle, I’d like to know more.”
“I’m not going anywhere. All you have to do is ask me.”
“Thank you. Returning to practical matters, do you agree with one group of us targeting each vampire?” At her nod, he asked another question. “How many Romani in each group? Absent your help, we’d settled on five.”
“Three will do it, and two of us. So thirty-six of your people and twenty-four of mine. Plus me.”
He almost asked what she’d be doing, but it felt disrespectful, so he held his tongue. “Should a few extra Rom show up? In case the energies don’t blend well?”
Meara drew her gray eyebrows together in concentration. “Wouldn’t hurt. Although I should have been clearer. It’s rare for there to be such a mismatch of magics, people can’t work together for short periods of time.”
Tairin’s wolf loped into the room accompanied by another, larger black and gray timber wolf that was probably her father.
Elliott dropped to his knees holding out his arms. It wasn’t dignified, but he didn’t care. Joy and relief washed through him in waves. Tairin ran into his arms, and he buried his hands in her rough pelt, breathing in her clean, animal scent.
“I’m so grateful you’re here,” he murmured. “I was getting worried.”
“Happy to see you too.” She leaned into him and licked his nose.
“I want to hear everything, but it can wait. Is that your father with you? Your differences, did you…” Elliott wasn’t sure how to phrase things.
Tairin saved him the trouble. “I’m not angry anymore. The goddess granted us a second chance to be family, and we’re taking advantage of it.”
Meara had joined the other wolf. Power shimmered about them, so they must be conversing.
Tairin wriggled out of his arms and bounded to where he’d folded her clothing in a corner of the room. The air around her turned first bright then dark, shielding her from his vision. When it cleared, she was kneeling to lace her boots.
He hid a smile. She’d had the ability to cloak herself all along, yet she’d shown him her body in the grove of trees. Her trust warmed him to his toes. Another flash of power drew his attention to the other wolf. It had transformed into a tall, naked man with Tairin’s chestnut-brown hair and dark eyes.
Elliott strode to him and held out a hand. The other man grasped it. “I am Jamal Jabari.”
“Elliott Brend. Nice to meet you, sir.”
Jamal snorted. “You can drop the sir part. I scarcely deserve it, and we’re equals. Sir is reserved for those you consider above your station. Any chance of something I can cover myself with?”
“As a matter of fact, yes. I always keep clothing here. We’re close enough to the same size, my things should fit.” He pointed to a carved, wooden chest sitting against the wall. “There are magic accoutrements in there, but dig beneath them and take what you need. The only thing I don’t have extra of is shoes, but I can correct that when I return to the caravan.”
Tairin made her way to Meara. “Would you like me to find you a cloak or a robe and something for your feet?”
“Thank you, child, but no. I haven’t worn clothing in a very long time.” She turned her attention to Elliott. “Return to the Rom. Tell them we await them. Construct the amulets and return here by this time tomorrow night with those willing to work side-by-side with us to defeat the vampires. I will use the time between now and then to coach my people—and capture the demon you set free. We cannot let it remain on this side of Hell. Its wickedness could lay waste to our efforts.”
So that’s why I told her about it. He recalled the words he’d tried to hold inside that had streamed out anyway.
“By rights dealing with the demon should be my job,” Elliott protested, guilt vying with determination. “I created the problem. I should be the one to take care of it.”
“Admirable sentiments, but your time is better spent gathering your people and creating more of the protective talismans. Besides, if your power were enough to defeat that brand of evil, it would already be back in Hell.”
“What demon?” Jamal had donned dark trousers and a black sweater. He raised an inquisitive brow, sounding interested.
“From the feel of things in this room—” Meara focused her unnerving gaze on Elliott “—my guess would be Ba’al or Grigori. The thing got away from you here, correct?”
“Yes.”
“Jamal and I will create a drawing spell. It will be easy enough to lure it back to its entry point.” She dusted her hands together.
“There’s enough time for me to help,” Elliott insisted. “At the least, I can add power to your working.”
“This isn’t up for debate.” Meara shot a sidelong glance his way and folded her arms across her chest.
“I’m going with Elliott when he returns to the caravan,” Tairin said sounding fierce and protective.
“Of course you are.” Meara laughed. “I can do many things with my power, but I know better than to stand in the way of love. Final plans to address the vampire problem will have to wait until all of us are together.”
Tairin looped an arm beneath Elliott’s and tugged. “Best go before she changes her mind.”
“Be safe. Tell the others to remain outside until we call them. We don’t need any distractions until we’ve dispatched the demon.” Jamal turned back toward Meara, and the two of them lapsed into Gaelic.
Elliott walked out of the room and through the tunnel with Tairin by his side. They shooed the few shifters in the passageway into the courtyard, and he dismantled the magic holding Flame in place.
“Why don’t you use a car?” one of the shifters asked, sounding more curious than hostile.
Elliott shrugged. “We’ve stuck with our old customs, most of them anyway. Horses and wagons are how the Romani have always traveled.”
The shifter inclined his head. “That’s a good horse. Most of them hate us.”
“He wasn’t any too fond of me the first time he met me as a wolf,” Tairin said, “but he’s fine with me as a human.”
She clambered into the saddle, and Elliott vaulted up behind her. He reached around, ostensibly t
o take the reins, but mostly he wanted to feel her pressed against him.
Tairin relaxed into his embrace, and they set off for the caravan at a trot, keeping to shadowed byways. Curfew was curfew. It might be easier to hide a horse than a car, but the consequences of being caught were the same.
“What happened with the Rom while I was gone?” she asked.
“They changed their minds about taking on the vampires.” Elliott chuckled. “You shamed them, made them see their duty.”
Breath rattled from her in a hissing sigh. “We have so many problems. That thing we did in Dachau, we should be planning more stealth attacks just like it. Not only in that prison camp, but all of them. Instead, we got sidetracked by vampires. Not that they aren’t important, but everything else is too.”
“I believe some of the Rom will continue to fight with us, once we finish off the nest.”
Tairin angled her head back to look at him. “If we finish off the nest. The outcome is scarcely certain, although Meara knows what will happen.”
“Are you going to tell me?”
“I would if I knew. That knowledge is hers and hers alone, but she’s planning on being part of the attack, so maybe that bodes well for us. Gods but I hope things go well. Romani aren’t warriors. You said the Rom might take part in guerrilla warfare against the Reich, but I have my doubts.”
“Your Rom blood doesn’t get in the way of you being a capable fighter.” Elliott tightened his arms around her.
“Yes, but I’ve had a long time to get used to blending my two disparate sides. And I’ve had help. Those first hundred years when we lived as wolves, if it hadn’t been for my wolf, I’d have lost my mind. I was so lonely I couldn’t stop howling. It used to croon to me at night, lull me to sleep. And it watched over us while I rested.”
Elliott’s heart ached for what she’d lived through. His life hadn’t been easy after his parents were murdered, but he’d been surrounded by loving, caring folk in the caravan. After a while, they stood in for the family he’d lost.
“You’ll never be alone again.” Fierce protectiveness raged through him.