Tarnished Legacy: Shifter Paranormal Romance (Soul Dance Book 2)

by Ann Gimpel

  “Neither will you.” She threaded her arms around his and hung on tight. “Once we get to the caravan, we’re picking who’ll be part of this undertaking, right?”

  “Not exactly. They’ll already have been selected by their caravan leaders. The thing that will take time is making amulets for the shifters.” The sound of an approaching truck drove him down a deserted alleyway, but he kept moving. Chances of the vehicle following them were nil since they hadn’t been spotted.

  “If I’d been more on top of my game,” he went on, “I’d have returned to the Bishop so he could make more holy water and consecrated earth, but it never occurred to me a shifter would wear anything crafted with Romani power.”

  “So there’s not enough of whatever’s in yours left to create a few more? I can smell it, but a human probably couldn’t.”

  “Any human could smell the garlic if I hadn’t masked it with magic. To answer your question, no I don’t have more materials. I’ll have to go back to the church.”

  A shudder ran down her back. “Maybe I’ll skip that part.”

  “What?” he teased. “You announced you were going with me. Crucifixes don’t go down well?”

  “None of it goes down well. Every church considers me an abomination. They’ve burned us, hung us, and clapped us in irons.”

  “Yeah, they’re not fond of the Romani, either, but their antipathy for us probably doesn’t run as hot or as deep.” He guided the stallion around several more corners until the group of wagons came into view.

  Flame whickered happily at the prospect of his feed bucket and visiting with the other horses. Once they came to the line of hobbled mounts, Elliott jumped down. Tairin tossed a leg over the horse and slipped to the ground. Elliott scooped feed from a barrel and set it in front of the horse, along with a full water bucket.

  “Aren’t you taking the horse to the church?” she asked.

  “No. I’ll ride a bicycle, but it’s the middle of the night. I’ll go early in the morning. Right after matins. The priest was generous. I’ll not abuse his kindness by waking him.”

  Tairin wrapped her arms around him, and he hugged her back. Her face was reflected in moonlight, all exotic angles and delicate lines. He traced the edge of one cheekbone. “You’re so lovely. I could look at you forever.”

  Her lips parted in a soft smile. “You’re quite a knockout yourself.” She brushed her thumb over his lower lip, and his cock hardened, pressing against her belly.

  He’d bent his head, intent on kissing her, when footsteps closed from behind them. “Thought I heard something out here,” Michael said, still moving toward them. “Glad you’re back. Both of you. Come into my wagon. The elders are gathered. We need to know if the shift—” Michael must have remembered they weren’t out of everyone’s earshot. “Come inside,” he repeated, his voice gruff, and turned back the way he’d come.

  Elliott stepped away from Tairin, but took hold of her hand. “We’ll find time for us later,” he said into her mind.

  “Now is for battle,” her wolf replied. “If we do well in battle, all else will follow.”

  Tairin gripped his hand tighter and muttered, “Shifters are nothing if not warriors.”

  “And lovers,” the wolf said, sounding smug.

  “What are the lot of you nattering about?” Michael turned to face them. Before Elliott could answer, he went on, “From now until we’re done with the task before us, that will be all any of us focus on. Tairin will report on what happened with her journey. If you have something to add to her story, do it. Once that’s done, the two of you will go to your wagons for what’s left of tonight. Separate wagons. Do I make myself clear?”

  He lowered his voice to the barest whisper. “I do not want anyone deciding the two of you sleeping together will jinx our efforts. Romani won’t trust shifters in the span of an eye blink, nor will they stop believing mating with one brings curses from the gods.”

  “Got it.” Elliott spoke stiffly. Michael’s assessment made sense, but it also drove home just how unwelcome he and Tairin would be in Romani circles.

  “It’s all right,” Tairin said into his mind. “Being unwelcome is a big step up from hiding what I am.”

  Admiration for the levelheaded woman standing by his side made his heart swell with longing. “I love you.”

  “The feeling is mutual.”

  Michael stopped outside his wagon. “Valentin settled down,” he said, keeping his voice to a whisper. “I hope to hell seeing you again—” he eyed Tairin “—doesn’t set him off.”

  “I’ll make certain it doesn’t.” The scent of her magic, musk and wooded glens, rose around them.

  Elliott recognized a calming spell, designed to charm even the most reluctant of critics. Tairin followed Michael up the steps and into his wagon. Elliott trailed after them. The next few hours would be busy ones, but his main job was visiting the priest again and lending his magic to making more amulets. After the first few, he’d set up an assembly line operation that made things go faster.

  “You again!” Valentin’s accented voice thundered. “Get that woman out of here.”

  “If ye canna calm yourself,” Stewart said, “ye must needs leave. Choose now, so ye doona disrupt this gathering further.”

  Elliott took a deep breath. He wanted to drive his fist through Valentin’s face, but that would only make things worse. He ducked his head and entered the wagon. Tairin stood at the far end, magic from her calming spell streaming from her.

  “I won’t trouble you with my presence for long,” she began, her voice low and hypnotic. “My shifter kin have accepted me back into their ranks, and they’re prepared to fight alongside us to defeat the vampires…”

  Elliott listened to her summarize the parts the Rom needed to know. He could have listened to her forever, as captivated by her spell as every other man in the room. Even Valentin was leaning toward her, intent on her words.

  So much power, he marveled. She could have wrested leadership of the caravan from Michael anytime she wished, but she’d done nothing of the sort—

  “Elliott!” Michael’s voice was sharp with command. “This is the third time I’ve asked if you have anything to add.”

  He rose from where he’d been crouched near the door, still entranced by Tairin’s magic. “Yes, I do. The shifters have requested protective amulets, and I said we’d provide them. I’ll go back by the church early tomorrow for more materials. Also, we’ll only need three Romani for each group, not five. We might want to send a few additional men to make certain the magical energies mesh well within each group. Those who aren’t selected can return to their caravans.”

  Before Valentin and the others recovered from the effects of Tairin’s magic, Elliott bid the group goodnight and left the wagon. Tairin followed him. Once they were outside, he held out his arms, but she shook her head. “We made Michael a promise.”

  “Bad luck to break promises.” He smiled at her, wanting her so intensely all else paled to nothingness.

  “Bad luck to break promises,” she agreed and headed for the wagon she shared with a few other unmarried women.

  He stared after her long after she’d disappeared inside, longing cutting a path through his soul. He’d buried his emotions deep after his parents died, adding layers to the protections he’d built around his heart as years passed. Understanding flared that his magic had suffered because his spells started and stopped with his mind. No heat. No heart. No spirit.

  No more.

  Tairin offered him a great gift. The ability to be whole again. Even if it meant leaving the Romani world behind forever, they’d make a life together. From the sound of things, they could throw in their lot with her shifter kinfolk. If not, just being by her side would be more than enough.

  He headed for his wagon, intent on seeing just how much amulet material remained. And on finding shoes for Jamal.

  Chapter 12

  The following evening, Tairin sat atop a high, flat seat driving a
wagon and team. She’d made sure the two women who’d shared it with her back at the caravan had secured other arrangements. They’d moved their things out while she was preparing to leave.

  Curfew wouldn’t be for an hour, which should give her plenty of time to reach the castle. She’d dressed in colorful, flowing traditional Romani clothing. If anyone stopped her, she’d tell them she was off to tell fortunes for a gadjo’s party. The amulets, additional dark clothing, shoes for Jamal, and food stocked the wagon, along with all her things. Forty men, including Elliott, were strung out half a mile behind her on horseback, traveling in groups of twos and threes.

  Elliott had been insistent she use telepathy to summon him if she got into trouble, or the Nazis waylaid her. She’d agreed, but whether she’d actually follow through depended on what she ran up against. Her presence wasn’t a critical element in the shifter-Romani coalition to deal with the vampires. Elliott’s was, and she’d be damned if she’d pull him away from something far more important than rescuing her.

  If she ran into trouble, she’d get herself out of it. No need to put Elliott in danger too. A warm place fluttered behind her breastbone when she thought about him. Soon they’d be free to plan a future together. That a Romani could know what she was and love her anyway gave her hope for détente between their two peoples.

  “Good woman. I trained you well,” her wolf observed, sounding pleased with itself.

  “It’s the truth, but you needn’t brag about it,” she replied, smothering a smile.

  A group of planes, flying in a tight formation, roared by overhead. Her horses neighed, tossing their heads and making the bells sewn to their halters jangle.

  “Get a car,” a passing man yelled at her. When she didn’t respond, he followed it up with, “Dumb gypsy bitch. Are you deaf as well as stupid?”

  Anger flared hot, but she kept her eyes straight ahead. She could flatten the ignorant bastard with a blast of magic, but then everyone else who was out and about would mob her wagon. Nazis weren’t the only ones who didn’t care for Romani. People had a love-hate relationship with their abilities, using them when it was convenient and maligning them when it wasn’t.

  A car honked before pulling around her. It cut back in so close it nearly hit her lead horse. That did it. She guided the team down a side street, determined to use alleys to achieve her destination. The acrid stench of urine in the narrow, cobblestone byway burned her nostrils. Apparently, someone—or maybe more than one person—was hiding out back here.

  A blast of pure evil turned the air ahead of her dark. The horses reared in their harnesses, shrieking with fear. Tairin set the wagon’s brake and jumped down from the box. Whatever this was, she’d place herself between it and her team. Earth magic gushed into her as she summoned power.

  “What is it?” she asked the wolf.

  “Demon. Maybe the same one Elliott loosed.”

  “Should we shift?”

  “Maybe. Not yet. It’ll spook the horses even worse.”

  She mixed fire and a little air with her earth magic and built a perimeter behind her. Perhaps the horses sensed it because they quieted. Spinning, she faced whatever was moving closer. Light crackled from her fingertips, and she loosed her signature mix of Romani and shifter power. Maybe it would slow the evil down.

  Or not since the thing kept right on coming.

  Meara and Jamal were supposed to dispatch the demon—if it was the same one. No way of knowing, and it didn’t matter. Black flames licked toward her. She feinted sideways, but wasn’t quite fast enough and ended up in the center of a circle of fire. Water would help, but that was her weakest element, plus the closest source was the sewer flowing beneath her feet. She had no idea where the nearest gutter cover was located, and drawing water through earth and cobblestones in sufficient quantities to quell the blaze was beyond her ability.

  Her belly tightened into a knot of fear, but she ignored it. Panic wouldn’t go down well, and it would interfere with her ability to work magic. She eyed the flames surrounding her. They grew closer but very slowly, surging forward and withdrawing. The thing that had summoned black fire was playing with her.

  Why?

  She changed the timbre and cadence of her chant to draw out the demon. Gradually, an entity formed behind the circle of fire. Tall, with horns, yellow eyes, red scales, and a forked tail, it raised a hand, pointing talon-tipped fingers right at her. Macabre laughter rose from its throat, and a cascade of ice chips froze her from the inside out.

  The black flames burned higher, almost to waist level, but their heat didn’t chase away the chill. Changing things up, she channeled earth magic by itself, instructing it to smother the fire. Not all of it—she didn’t command enough magic for that—only the spot right in front of her. Choking clouds of noxious smelling sulfur fumes billowed, but a gateway formed in the flames.

  Tairin hurried through and tossed a wide ward about herself. The demon might try its fire trick again, but this time she’d make certain it couldn’t get close enough to harm her. The smell of singed fabric added to the smoke, suggesting how close the fire had come to immolating her where she stood.

  Fear thickened her throat. The demon was laughing harder than ever. Bastard wasn’t even breathing hard, where she was gasping as if she’d run miles. How could she get rid of the thing? It wasn’t possible with the amount of magic she had to squander defending herself.

  Probably what it’s counting on. If it keeps me busy enough, I’ll never be able to leverage enough magic to make a dent in its attack. Eventually it will wear me down, drain my magical well, and then…

  She recognized alien enchantment planting bleak seeds in her mind to demoralize her and poured more magic into her warding. She had to do something, but what?

  The talismans.

  Were they specific to vampires, or would they work on anything evil? No time like now to find out. Never taking her gaze off the demon, who was building another pyre of black flames right in front of it, she skirted back to her wagon and tugged its side door open. Reaching inside, she herded the pile of amulets close. Draping one around her neck, she grabbed a handful in case their power was additive.

  Tairin didn’t bother to shut the wagon door. Windows above her in the narrow alleyway had been slamming shut ever since the demon showed up. If Munich’s citizens had learned anything from the Nazi regime, it was to turn a blind eye to anything unusual. Not to call what passed for law enforcement. And never to offer help to anyone not part of the Master Race.

  Bitterness and anger lent her energy. She hurried back to within striking distance, holding half a dozen amulets before her and chanting to boost their power. Maybe. Shifter and Rom magic might not be a good mix with holy water or consecrated earth. Would the whole mess blow up in her face?

  A patch of air between them took on a glassy, incandescent quality, and a loud whoomping made her ears hurt. Not good. Mixing incompatible magics could backfire badly. She stared at the demon, seeking clues. The smug expression on its face had departed. If it hadn’t been for that, she might have chucked the amulets as far away from her as she could.

  Scattering the pyre of flames, the demon faced her, its hands raised. A hail of dark magic pounded against her ward, but it held.

  “Ha!” Tairin screeched. “Not as easy pickings as you’d figured.”

  She set up a triangulation where she fed power through the amulets, and thence to the demon. The patch of air looked more and more like stained glass painted in reds and oranges. When it surrounded the demon, enclosing it, Tairin was certain she’d won. All she had to do was keep funneling power through the leather pouches suspended from one hand.

  And keep her wards intact. She’d have enough magic for both—if it didn’t take too long.

  Cawing rained down from above, and Tairin risked a glance upward. Meara! The vulture plummeted to earth right next to her, transforming between the space of two heartbeats.

  “Follow my lead,” Meara cried. “Not much
left to do. You almost had him.”

  Tairin drew the same power as Meara and repeated her chant. The stained glass shattered in an earsplitting cacophony. When it cleared, the demon was gone.

  Tairin bent over, hands on her knees, sucking air. When she could talk, she ground out. “Was it the same one?”

  “Yes. Jamal and I drew it, but it slipped away from us. We infuriated it, but I have no idea why it targeted you.”

  “I do.” Harsh knowledge cut deep. “I smell like Elliott. That’s what drew it.”

  “Why not seek out Elliott?” Meara frowned.

  “Because he’s with a group of forty Rom—and I was alone.” Tairin shook her head. “It’s all right. At least I discovered these things—” she shook the bunch of amulets until they jangled against one another “—work against everything evil. I also figured out shifters can use them without incompatible magic coming back to bite us. Where’s Jamal?”

  “Holding down the fort in the castle. In case the demon gave me the slip again, it would be drawn to where it was freed from Hell.”

  Tairin withdrew power from the perimeter she’d drawn around the team. Stalking back to the wagon, she dropped the amulets inside and pushed the door until it latched. Ready to get moving again, she stared at the spot the demon had been. Nothing remained but a few charred bits. “Is it gone?”

  “This one is a he—Grigori to be precise—and he’s back in Hell if that’s what you’re asking. Impossible to kill those things. Mind if I catch a ride with you?”

  Tairin rolled her eyes. “Sorry. I should have offered. I need a crash course in shifter magic. I understand the Romani part of me, but maybe there was something I could’ve done to wrap things up here faster.”

  “Let’s get moving. We can talk as we go.” Meara climbed onto the wagon’s seat.

  Tairin took the place next to her. She didn’t need a watch to know it was now past curfew, and they were still a good half hour from the castle. She released the wagon’s brake and clucked to the team.