by Vella Day
As much as she didn’t want to ask and become embroiled in the horror, she had to. “How could a knife take someone’s powers?” Shivers raced up her body at the heinous act.
“That is the million dollar question.”
*
The next morning, Kip met with his partners Jackson Murdoch and Connor McKinnon, along with Kalan Murdoch. The McKinnon and Associates office was on the west edge of town. They were gathered around a conference table with a carafe of coffee in the center next to a plate of donuts that Jackson had brought in. Kip had to work hard not to touch them. Those damned animal shifters had a metabolism that allowed them to eat whatever they wanted and not gain weight, lucky bastards.
“Rye said he was available to help if we need him,” Kalan said.
That was a relief. “Having the Alpha around could expedite things.”
“How did your folks handle the news?” Connor asked Kip.
“Actually, they were calmer than I thought they would be and were even willing to wait until this morning before rushing over to see Randy. I warned them not to speak about the knife or his lack of magic to anyone.”
“Good. Did your folks have any input as to how something like this could have happened?” Kalan asked. “I’m not really well-versed in the Wendayan ways.”
“Dad thought something like this had occurred many years ago, but he couldn’t remember anything about the circumstances.”
Kalan placed his elbows on the table and formed an A-shape with his fingers. “I think we need to speak with James—or rather I’ll speak with James. After Elana’s parents were murdered, James provided us with valuable information, so I’m hoping he’ll be willing to help us again.”
Kip’s pulse soared. He’d heard about the immortal but had never spoken with him. “What can he do to help Randy?”
Kalan smiled. “I believe James can do anything. No one is sure of his powers, but he’s helped both Rye and me several times recently. He told me, however, that he wants us mere mortals to handle our own affairs when we can, but since this isn’t some squabble, I’m hoping he’ll be willing to lend a hand.”
Kalan was right that this wasn’t some petty argument gone wrong. “How about I come with you? I might need to convince him that if the Changelings are able to take a Wendayan’s power once, they could do it again.” He shuddered at the thought, wondering if they’d come after him at some point. “Every Wendayan is in danger.”
“If we can’t assure the witches that they’ll be safe, there could be a mass exodus from the town,” Connor said.
“Or the Wendayans would go on a witch hunt of their own,” Kip said. “Pun intended. It could result in way too many deaths. Remember, we aren’t without our own resources.”
Jackson polished off his first cup of coffee. “Kip is right. Some of the Wendayan’s could fend off a wolf or two, but many couldn’t. Kip, you could probably fry the little suckers if you wanted to.”
“I’ve never used my magic on a human, though technically the Changelings don’t deserve to be called that. When I was a kid, Randy and I were goofing around, and I accidentally zapped a squirrel. I think my powers are now closer to a Taser than a live wire, though to be honest, I haven’t spent any time testing out whether or not I could kill a person with a few joules of electricity,” he said with a smirk. He picked up his University of North Carolina mug full of coffee and sipped it, enjoying the warmth of the brew.
Jackson leaned over the table and poured himself a second cup. “Still, you can handle yourself better than say Deanna.”
The blood almost drained from his brain as the potential horror sunk in. “Yeah, and I’m glad I asked her to stay with Randy.”
“Without powers, along with being weak, he may not be much help,” Connor offered.
He gave his boss the finger. “Way to cheer me up. Thank goodness I have good security at the house.” His dad had the same powers he and Randy did, but many of the Wendayans, like Teagan, only had visions, which wouldn’t be much help in defending themselves. Still, the Changelings might find their magic useful.
A sick clawing scraped his gut. He’d have to warn Teagan, Deanna, and his folks to be on the lookout, but they’d have to swear not to leak the information to any others. A widespread panic was the last thing Silver Lake needed.
Kalan pushed his chair back. “I have to be at work in a little over an hour, but we can see if James is home now if you want to speak with him.”
Kip shouldn’t be excited, as the circumstances were grave, but he’d always wanted to meet the man—or rather the immortal. “Sure.”
Connor gathered his papers. “I’ll let Rye know where we are in this investigation.”
Kalan held up a finger. “I forgot to mention that I swapped assignments with another officer and will be the lead on Randy’s case. I will need to speak with him, but I think he’ll have a better chance at having his powers returned if a shifter is on the job.”
Relief poured through him. “Amen and thank you.”
On the way to their vehicles, Kalan had said that James might appear strange, but that was because he was trying not to divulge too much information. That made little sense, but Kip thought it best not to ask why. He figured any help James could provide would be beneficial.
Because Kalan had to head back to the station after speaking with James, they drove separately. Kip had no idea where the immortal lived, so he followed Kalan. By the time they turned into the lake area, Kip’s palms were sweating, but he couldn’t decide if it was because he was about to meet an icon, or if fear was seeping into his pores at the extent of damage these evil Changelings could inflict on his kind.
When they drove past the lake where many of the shifters resided, Kip rolled down his window and breathed in the fresh air. It was probably his imagination, but the trees seemed taller and the grass greener.
Kalan headed north along the lake’s shore, and soon no homes were in view. After he turned down a dirt driveway, he drove a ways, arriving at a stone home that looked rather ancient. Kalan parked and Kip pulled in beside him. If he’d been walking into the White House to meet the President, he might have been less nervous.
Kalan clasped a hand on his shoulder. “Try not to react when James seems to read your mind.”
“That’s not creepy.” Kip looked around, but didn’t see a car in sight or an air conditioning unit for that matter. “Does he get out much?”
“He’s been known to wander.”
The front door opened and a man stood at the entrance. He looked fit and strong and certainly did not look hundreds of years old.
He smiled. “Gentlemen, come in. I didn’t think I’d see you so soon, Kalan.”
*
Teagan really didn’t want to speak to Rosa about her issues with her visions, but when Izzy had called this morning and told her that Rosa canceled an appointment to meet with her, Teagan had to go.
The psychic lived outside of the Cove in her husband’s family home. While Teagan had met Rosa at a few events, they hadn’t had a need to interact much before.
Using her GPS, Teagan found the street and then located her place. The neighborhood wasn’t the best, but at least there weren’t any wild dogs running about. When she was little, a dog had bitten Teagan in the leg, and if it hadn’t been for her older brother, Sam, no telling when or if the dog would have let go.
Rosa’s house was a white, one-story clapboard style home with a chain-linked fence in front. Fall might be around the corner, but her front yard looked as if winter had descended already. The grass was brown and the landscape colorless.
Don’t judge.
Teagan parked on the street in front of her house, slung her purse over her shoulder, and walked to the door with as much confidence as possible. Being in the presence of another psychic who had strong visionary powers was a bit unnerving.
Clenching then releasing her fists to let off a bit of anxiety, she knocked. A moment later, a woman in a wheelchair answered
. Teagan hadn’t expected that. The last time they’d met had been at the spring festival, and Rosa had appeared healthy. Did she have a stroke or a broken hip?
While Rosa had the same olive coloring and fair skin, the poor woman looked like she’d aged ten years.
“Come in, Teagan.”
The inside was stuffy and small, and while the living room was dark, it was cozy. From the pristine condition of the hardwood floors, they’d been recently installed, but that seemed to be the only updating that had been done in a while. Only now did Teagan remember her husband had passed away about eight months ago. The photo montage of him and their children on the wall attested to how much he was missed.
“Have a seat, dear, and we’ll talk.”
Teagan liked Rosa’s demeanor. She seemed like a no-nonsense woman. The sofa was covered in vinyl, but the chairs were not, so she chose the chair. Seconds later, a calico cat wandered into the room and leapt onto the sofa before proceeding to scratch the surface. The need for the covering became clear.
“Isadora explained your dilemma. I’m sorry about your boyfriend’s brother.”
She was about to say that Kip’s relationship status was uncertain, but the words were too painful to speak. “It was a tragedy.”
“Do you believe in free will, dear?” Rosa asked.
“Free will?” Why would she be asking that question?
“Yes, the ability of people to make their own choices.”
She knew the definition. “I do.”
“Are you sure? You don’t act like it.”
Teagan opened her mouth to protest when Rosa held up a finger and wheeled her chair closer. “I need to explain. Let’s say you had a vision of a man about to be in a car accident. You picture him heading north on Main Street and envision another car barreling down Oak Avenue. Perhaps you even watch the horrible crash in your mind. You’d believe that this event would occur, am I not right?”
“Yes.”
“For me, at least, the more intense the vision, the sooner the incident will occur.”
Teagan wasn’t certain where this woman was going with this line of questioning. “That’s true for me, only my visions aren’t that specific. I see things in symbols—a black shroud, a river of blood, a leaning house. I’m never sure if I’m decoding the vision right.”
“That is always a risk, but bear with me. I’m trying to make a point. Let’s return to this man who’s about to be crushed by a reckless driver. What you might not think about is that a dog or a squirrel might have darted in front of the man seconds before he reaches the intersection. This is something you couldn’t have foreseen. He must either slow down, swerve to avoid hitting the animal, or speed up hoping not to hit it. In that case, he would crash.”
“I don’t understand your point.”
Rosa leaned over and patted her hand. “You can have all the visions you want, but there are so many things that can happen to prevent them from happening—such as whether the man slowed down to avoid hitting the squirrel.”
Teagan really wanted to understand what this wise woman was trying to say. “So all of my visions may not turn into reality because of a person’s free will?”
“Exactly. The people themselves are the ones who affect fate—not you.”
Perhaps that explained why she’d messed up a few times. Hell, the last vision was with a different person. “Is there any way to tell when it will be accurate?”
“I’m afraid not.” Rosa sat back in her chair. “Izzy told me about your concerns. Your visions are focused on those closest to you, and you fear that what you see will happen. That scares you, so you pull away.”
Her pulse sped up. She did understand. “Yes. Is there anything I can do about it?”
Rosa smiled. “Keep those you love close to you. Pushing them away is the worst thing you can do.”
What? That wasn’t what she thought Rosa was going to say. “Why? They’ll be in more danger.”
The old psychic’s brows pinched. “You don’t cause things to happen. Your magic is in your ability to warn people to be careful and avoid a situation. You can’t notify them if you can’t reach them quickly.”
Whoa. Teagan hadn’t thought of it in that way, though both Izzy and Kip had hinted something like that might be the case.
“What do you think I should do?”
Rosa leaned back and smiled. “Stay as close to this Kip fellow as you can.” She waved a hand. “I’m not saying you need to go to work with him, but if you witness something that involves him, tell him about it right away, so he’ll know to be prepared. Your powers are a gift, and something to be cherished.”
That finally made sense and would make her life so much easier. Teagan stood. “Thank you. You’ve really helped.”
“Any time, dear.”
Teagan was halfway back to her house when she remembered Izzy had suggested she ask Rosa about dealing with the effects of her visions—the pain and sometimes the nausea. Oh, well, she’d ask another time if she needed further guidance.
She couldn’t wait to tell Kip and the rest of her friends that she no longer had to live her life as a recluse. If only her parents were in town, they could have given her some guidance. Mom and Dad were on a weeklong retreat in Florida and couldn’t be reached. She couldn’t wait for their two-year stint at the Spiritual Camp to end. She missed them terribly.
Chapter Six
‡
The inside of James’s cabin was rather sparse, despite the immortal having had years to decorate, so Kip figured that he just liked it that way.
Kalan was looking everywhere other than at James, implying the Clan’s Beta believed he shouldn’t have come. “Sorry for the intrusion, James, but it involves something that could potentially destroy all of the Wendayans,” Kalan said.
James’s eyes widened. “Such drama. Please, sit down. May I get you two something to drink?”
Kalan held up his hand. “No thanks; maybe another time.” The strain in his voice was enough to set Kip even more on edge. Kalan was usually so easy-going.
Then he and Kalan sat down on the wooden bench that faced the fireplace, and James took the chair perpendicular to them. “Tell me what’s wrong,” James said, looking from one to the other.
Kalan glanced over at Kip and nodded. Kip told James about the home invasion and the two masked men, one stabbing his brother and stealing his powers.
“Oh, my; it’s worse than I suspected,” James said with total calm.
Kip shot a look to Kalan. What he said was true. This man was rather odd. It wasn’t just his old-fashioned speech, but the way he reacted to the news was not how a twentieth century man would deal with things.
Kip’s patience had worn thin. “What can you tell us? Is there anything I can do to retrieve my brother’s magic?”
“You personally help?” James shook his head. “The Changelings are too powerful, and they will become more powerful if they have your brother’s powers to use.”
That meant he’d need an army of people to go after these people. “The Wendayans are powerful too.”
“They are indeed, but if you run up to the hills to do battle, you won’t win. The Changelings will see to it.”
His negativity wasn’t helping. “Do you have any better ideas?” Kip asked. He ignored Kalan’s stiffening shoulders. Right now, Kip didn’t give a crap if he pissed off this man. He needed answers.
“I know of two young lovers who were born into the Changeling world.” He turned to Kalan. “I believe Ryerson has met the woman, and he’s most likely spoken with the man. Her name is Olivia Renford. She was the witch Owen Chancellor had hired to put a love spell on Izzy to make her become his mate.”
“Are you saying a Changeling witch is going to help us?” Kip interjected, questioning whether this man could be of any help.
James slowly returned his gaze to Kip. “Let me explain. Olivia fell in love in high school with a boy named Nathan. Her mother and Nathan’s grandmother are human.
Both women married Changelings. Because of this human connection, Olivia and Nathan are able to connect with that side of their heritage. With a little effort, they can overpower the evil urges from their Changeling bloodline. Because they are more empathetic than their fellow Changelings, they want to be cleansed.”
“How does this help me find the men who are responsible for stealing my brother’s magic?” Kip’s tone came out harsher than he’d intended, but the man’s slow delivery was putting him further on edge.
“Hold your horses. I’m getting to that. Olivia and Nathan have had to keep their relationship on the down low.” He used air quotes around the last two words. “They came to me and asked if I had the power to heal them—that is, remove the Changeling part of them. They have no hatred in their bodies or minds and didn’t want any children they might have to be born with or develop any evil Changeling blood.”
“You can do that?” Kip asked. If he could, his respect for the man would definitely increase.
James glanced at Kalan. “Not without the help of my lovely wife, but yes, it can be done.”
“That’s all well and good, but how can the two young lovers retrieve Randy’s magic?” Kip asked.
“I won’t ask them to even try, as it would be too dangerous. I’m hoping they can find the location of your brother’s powers. The rest will be up to you.”
The whole concept of storing powers still made no sense, but James seemed to think otherwise. Because Kip had no idea where to look, he would have to trust this man. “How do you know the Changelings haven’t already used Randy’s magic? There might be none left.”
James smiled, looking like a priest about to bestow wisdom on his parishioners. “The Changelings can only use borrowed powers on the red moon.”
He knew that how? He mentally erased that thought. Neither Rye nor Kalan had mentioned that James’s information had ever been wrong or misleading. At that thought, the intense tightness in his shoulders began to dissipate. “So we have some time then.”