by Krista Walsh
She wrenched them away and crossed her arms, edging backward to create distance. What was going on?
The nudge became a push, and Vera’s mouth went dry. She knew this was a dream, and yet her pulse raced and the hair rose on her arms, sending shivers over her skin. The force pushing her toward the door was wrapped around her mind, and in its touch, Vera sensed something ancient. It wasn’t the magic-thrower or even the black-eyed thief who had bested her, but something much more powerful.
Just as she had manipulated the thoughts of the thief into seeing the flaming monster, this power urged her thoughts toward the book. She found herself thinking about the staff room and the safe where she had hidden it. The voice wanted to know where.
Vera tore her mind free and pain lanced across her skull, spreading through her body like needles in her nerves as the connection with the unseen ancient snapped shut.
She groaned, and the sound dragged her mind closer to wakefulness. She had to wake up. Grabbing on to her shifting consciousness to drag herself back to the real world, she struggled to find her way out of this lucid dream state. She fought against the fog that had crept in under the door and was wrapping around her legs. She kicked it away and swept her arms through it, breaking apart the tendrils that attempted to bind her.
She couldn’t afford to rest. She couldn’t waste any more time.
Someone else was after the book.
5
Vera came to in a rush. She snapped her eyes open and tried to sit up, but strong hands pressed her down. She searched for the glaring eyes of the second thief, but in the dim light of the shop, everything was shadowed. A soft voice called to her through her panic.
“It’s all right. It’s just us. You’re safe.”
A familiar masculine voice, but one that didn’t belong here.
She forced her gaze toward the voice and a scream squeezed out of her throat at the black eyes staring down on her. Wheeling her arms, she struck the man’s cheek, and the black eyes tumbled toward the ground.
Not eyes. Sunglasses.
Gabe.
An inexplicable joy leaped into her heart at the sight of him, joined by relief that he had come to speak with her. She could apologize now for acting like such an idiot in his office.
Then she realized she had just hit him, making a fool of herself yet again. The fight seeped out of her muscles, and she allowed her hands to fall limp at her sides. Gabe replaced his sunglasses, his fingers lingering over his cheekbone where she’d struck him, then he wrapped his arm around her shoulders to help her sit up.
“I’m so sorry,” she said, startled when the words came out as a croak. She remembered the black-eyed man’s hands around her throat, squeezing, cutting off her airway. Brushing her fingers over her neck, she winced at the deep, stretching discomfort.
Gabe flashed her a smile. “Don’t worry. It’s good for my ego to have the crap beat out of me once in a while. But I imagine this sort of experience is new for you. Are you all right?”
Vera sucked in a breath and pressed her hand against her chest to get her heartbeat under control.
“Are they gone?” she asked.
“There was no one else here when we came in,” he said. “Who did this?”
“We?” Part of her mind was aware that she kept ignoring his questions, but too many of her own were spinning through her mind to add any others into the fray.
Gabe shifted his wide shoulders to reveal Ara perched on the edge of the sofa behind him, her clasped hands pressed to her lips. The dryad smiled softly at her and slid to the floor, taking Vera’s free hand.
“I tried calling you to see how your meeting went today,” she said. “When you didn’t answer after the third try, I came to see what was wrong. I met Mr. Mulligan at the door.” Considering Vera hadn’t told Ara who she was going to see, it sounded strange to hear Gabe’s name on her friend’s lips. She imagined them making their introductions over her unconscious body, and her cheeks flamed with self-consciousness. “He says he had some follow-up questions for you and was concerned when you didn’t answer the door.”
“I told you to call me Gabe,” he corrected her. Vera looked at him, and he offered an embarrassed smile. “I came to apologize for being an idiot.” Her surprise at the echo of her own thoughts prevented her from protesting the need for him to say anything. “You came to me for help, and I just threw around the sort of basic advice I’d give any regular client. But you’re far from regular. I should have done more.” His smile faded as he looked around the shop. “At the very least, I should have gotten here earlier.”
Vera followed his gaze and took in the books scattered over the floor. More of a mess she’d have to clean up. But after the thieves’ attack and the unpleasantness of that power snooping through her mind, the clutter didn’t seem like much of a priority. The fog from her dream lingered in her head, making it difficult to concentrate.
Then Vera tensed as more of her awareness drifted back to her. “The book. After he knocked me out, did they find the book?”
Ara shook her head. “Once I was sure Gabe would look after you, I went into the staff room to check. It’s still in the safe.”
Vera released a breath and her shoulders sagged.
“What happened?” Ara asked.
“Tea,” Vera said. Her throat still hurt, her muscles ached, and a chill had set deep into her bones after her revelation about what the dream meant. Now that she was sure the book was secure, she didn’t want to attempt another word until she had something that would soothe her throat and brace her stomach.
Ara and Gabe exchanged a glance, and Ara nodded. Gabe tightened his grip around Vera’s shoulders and eased her to her feet, then slid his hand down to her waist to keep her steady as she wobbled. She wanted to step away and climb the stairs on her own strength, but she honestly didn’t know if her legs would be able to carry her.
And the warmth of Gabe’s touch offset the ice in her blood.
Ara led the way upstairs. She opened the door and stepped aside to give Gabe and Vera room to enter. Gabe helped Vera to the armchair and settled her next to the fire, then set to work stoking it while Ara went into the kitchen to prepare the tea.
Vera wanted to help her — she hated being perceived as feeble — but as the confusion of waking up wore off, fear set in, and her hands trembled where they rested in her lap.
That thief had matched her in a fight.
That had never happened before.
She knew she wasn’t the strongest species of the otherworld — though her ancestor’s strength had been legendary, even he had been brought down by someone stronger — but never had she come across someone who had exerted such force to defeat her. This man had barely flinched when she’d hit him back. He’d grinned instead, as though he relished the prospect of destroying her.
Tears prickled the corners of her eyes as her memory forced her back under his grip. She turned her face toward the shadows to prevent Gabe from noticing. If she couldn’t make him and Ara believe she was in control of the situation, they would threaten to pull it from her authority and hand it over to someone else. She would be faced with the failure to uphold her vow.
The kettle clicked off and Vera blinked her eyes clear, composing herself so she could answer her friends’ questions. As soon as she processed what had happened downstairs, she would be herself again. She just needed the tea to settle her nerves.
Ara came around from behind her, carrying a tray with three mugs and a plate of chocolate biscuits. She set the tray on the coffee table and handed Vera her cup. The soft scent of bergamot rose with the steam, and Vera inhaled slowly, savoring the spices. Her muscles relaxed, and a soft moan escaped her as she took her first sip.
Gabe stared into his cup as though he wasn’t sure what to do with it. He retreated to the nearest corner of the sofa, settling himself down on Baxter’s blanket, and left the rocking chair for Ara.
The dryad sank into it and began a slow rock, the movement
catching the glow of the fire to create dancing shadows across the carpet. “What happened, Vera?” she asked.
Her friend could have made a mint as a therapist if she’d chosen to. Her soft voice projected trust without judgment, and her presence was so calming that it was easy to believe nothing could hurt you as long as she was around.
“Vidar and Baxter heard noises.” Vera began, then she stiffened and jerked her head toward her bedroom. “Oh. Could someone please let them out?”
Gabe rose to obey, and a moment later, the three of them returned to the living room, the dogs bounding toward her with their tails wagging. Vidar lost interest in her as soon as he confirmed she was all right and turned his attention to Gabe. Baxter soon followed his lead. Gabe accepted their curiosity with the ease of someone who enjoyed the company of dogs, and Vera wouldn’t have been surprised if they’d started wrestling on the floor.
But in spite of his distraction, he kept his head tilted toward her, making it clear that he was listening to every word she said.
She cleared her throat and returned her gaze to the fire. “There were two of them this time. The one from the other night was keeping watch. I heard him refer to the second man as Rega. I don’t know what Rega is, but he definitely isn’t human. He was strong. Quick.” She shuddered. “His eyes screamed demon, although I didn’t recognize the breed.”
She brushed her fingers over her neck and swallowed around the wedge in her throat. “I’d hoped to get answers out of one of them. Something to tell me who they were and why they’re after the book, but the demon hit me. He must have knocked me unconscious.” Only now did Vera notice the throbbing behind her left ear. She wished she could return to her previous numbness until the headache passed.
“I don’t know what happened after that.” She heaved out a breath and brushed her hair out of her face. “I wish that was the end of it, but while I was unconscious, a presence came into my mind. It pushed me to go to the book. It wanted me to show it where it was.”
“Are you sure it wasn’t just a nightmare? Your mind playing out the worst-case scenario?” Gabe asked. He rested his hand on Baxter’s head, scratching behind his ears. “You were out pretty hard.”
The bitterness of doubt coated Vera’s throat, and she frowned, trying to remember her dream. Had that been all it was? Just a nightmare?
She shook her head, then regretted the movement. Her neck screamed with stiffness and she rubbed the muscles at the base of her skull. “No, it was something more than that. There was someone in my mind. Manipulating me. Someone very powerful and very old. There’s a second threat coming after The Fettered Wolf.”
“So it wasn’t one of the thieves,” Ara said, “but could it be in league with them?”
“I suppose it could,” Vera said. She closed her eyes and in her memory stepped back into the warped version of the shop. She had been at the mercy of that voice, being moved across the floor like a pawn on a chessboard. “The energy was different, and the method… Rega and the other one obviously prefer the blunt approach. This felt subtle. Like it was trying to get me to do the work for it. They might be connected, but I think it’s safer to assume we’re looking at multiple threats. Although I couldn’t begin to guess how or why.”
She forced herself to take a sip of tea to avoid getting worked up. Her mental state felt fragile, a sheet of glass ready to shatter into a fit of tears or anger given any slight nudge. She needed to get her bearings and calm down. She needed to think things through and come up with a strategy for how to act.
“Unless we find out who our enemies are, we don’t stand a chance of protecting the book,” she said. She turned to Ara. “What if this ancient power goes after your mind next? You don’t have the ability I do of pushing it back. You wouldn’t want to show it where the book is, but it nearly wore me down. How would you stop it?”
Ara reached out and rested her hand on Vera’s knee. “Whatever it is, you managed to prevent it from getting what it wanted. It was a victory, if a temporary one. This war isn’t over yet. We’re going to figure it out.”
“Yes, but they could try again tomorrow night or the night after that, and I need to be ready for it,” Vera said. She rested her forehead in her hand. “We should move the book again. I could hide the location even from you so if they try to get information, you won’t be able to tell them. We don’t have much time to come up with a better idea.”
Ara sat up straight in her chair. “You’re right. Time is exactly what we need. A chance to find out more about who’s coming after us without giving them a chance to get closer to the book. We could hang a sign on the door letting customers know the restricted section has been emptied for renovation. They might think we moved the book off-site somewhere. It wouldn’t deter them for long, but maybe long enough.”
Gabe cleared his throat, and the women turned toward him. He looked from Ara to Vera and raised his shoulder in a half shrug. “Maybe the solution is to run.”
Vera’s thoughts stumbled and tea sloshed over the rim of her mug. She hissed at the heat as she set the cup down on the end table, then she wiped her hands on her pants and leaned forward. “You can’t be serious.”
At the tension in her voice, Vidar and Baxter left Gabe’s side to go to hers. Baxter whimpered and nosed her hand, and she mindlessly scratched his ears.
Gabe squared his jaw as he turned his face toward her. “Very serious. You say you need time. You’re not going to get it if you’re sitting right in these bastards’ crosshairs. You could hide the book across town and they’d still come here. They’d still pose a danger to you. The only way to convince them the book is gone is to not be here yourself.”
“And what will running solve?” she asked. “They’re probably sitting outside my shop waiting for me to do just that. They’ll follow. The only difference will be that I’m somewhere unfamiliar and won’t be able to defend myself as easily.” And then there was her pride, which balked at the idea of fleeing like a coward and having the enemy see it. They would know they’d scared her, which would make them fight all the harder to break her the next time they got hold of her. She had to stay strong and stand up for herself. She couldn’t show weakness.
Gabe’s lips twitched upward. “I wasn’t thinking we go out the front door. I have other means of transportation. I can take us to a place outside Boston. My folks’ house. It’s empty, it’s in the middle of nowhere — no one would find us. You came to me for help, and this is what I’m offering. We go there, take advantage of my resources for a couple of days, and use the time to learn what we need to know to fight back.” He tilted his head toward her, and she sensed him catching her gaze through his lenses. “In spite of how it might sound, it’s not cowardice. It’s a tactical retreat. And this way you’re guaranteed to survive long enough to figure out what’s going on.”
Vera sputtered, unable to argue with him even though she knew what he proposed was ridiculous. To run would be admitting defeat.
Rega hurt you. He’ll do it again if you’re not ready for him.
Those black eyes stared at her from her memory, and her mouth went dry. She wrapped her hands around the ceramic mug and brought it to her lips, hoping some moisture would enable her to speak again.
Yes, he had hurt her, but this was her home. This was where she felt safe.
“For what it’s worth, I think it’s a good idea,” Ara said, and at her agreement, Vera closed her eyes and sagged into her chair. “I can watch the shop while you’re gone, so no one will know anything is amiss.”
“That won’t stop them from coming to the store after hours and continuing the search,” Vera said. She kept her eyes closed, irrationally hoping that it would block out the logic of her friend’s arguments.
“But neither you nor the book will be here, so they can search as much as they want,” Ara said. “Getting out of town sounds like the best way to keep you safe right now. You and the book.”
They were both against her.
“How can you say that?” Vera asked, the softness of her voice barely making it across the room. She opened her eyes and looked at Ara. “You’ve known me for twenty-two years. How can you ask me to run?”
“Set your pride aside for a few days, Vera,” Ara said. The corners of her green eyes were crinkled with gentle encouragement. “It’s not running if you intend to come back. But leaving the shop would give you some time and space to work out the problem. To get an objective perspective and come up with a better plan. You said it yourself — think of what’s at stake if you stay here and we fail.”
Vera imagined the chaos that would ensue if Rega translated the pages of her book. He would discover the weaknesses of every otherworldly group and who knew what else. With all that power at his fingertips, he could destroy the otherworld. The trees would burn and the dryads would fall; the veins of the gods would drain ichor into the ground. The sorceresses and warlocks would be stripped of magic, left to shrivel in their emptiness.
Vera’s mother had always compared the book to Pandora’s box. Translating it would unleash all the evils of the world, and no one would be able to stuff them back in.
Although the dangers were sounding in her mind like warning bells, her mind still scrabbled for an answer other than running. The enemy had already hurt her. What if they went after Ara when they found Vera gone? Didn’t that mean she needed to stay?
But would staying help Ara? Rega had been strong enough to knock Vera unconscious, and she didn’t know what else he was capable of. She needed to find out; otherwise, she would be useless against him.
And that was just the demon. She didn’t know enough about the ancient power manipulating her thoughts to know how to defend either herself or Ara against it. How long would it be before it came to her in person instead of just prodding her mind?
Gabe was offering to help her find the answers, but only if she came with him. It felt like an ultimatum, even though she knew that wasn’t how he meant it. She wished he would offer some other solution, but both he and Ara were staring back at her, awaiting her acquiescence. They’d already decided what would be best and wouldn’t waste time trying to come up with an alternative.