by Lisa Ladew
Ella’s eyes ran over every detail. The pieces of glass were irregular-sized, but all cut into square or rectangle shapes, then jigsawed so closely together that only an inch of wood ran between each. The resulting pattern, or lack of a pattern, was beautiful.
Heather walked back to the thermos and picked it up, rolling it in her hands, then peering inside.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m trying to see if I can get the sand and limestone hot enough to melt. Graeme is encouraging me to work on my fire. He says it’s important to be able to control it before I get pregnant, because the fire-lust can get out of control in pregnant females.”
Ella tilted her head, and tried to see in the thermos without getting too close. “But you’re not dragen.”
Heather nodded. “That’s what I told him. Graeme thinks it doesn’t matter. He’s convinced I’ll behave exactly like a dragen female when pregnant.” Heather put the cylindrical container down on the workbench in front of her, glanced at Graeme in the forest, and moved closer to Ella, her face grim. “I don’t want to tell him, but I’m afraid we’ll never get pregnant.”
Ella pulled her into a loving hug. “You will, I know you will.” She held her sister at arm’s length and peered at her. “Are you trying to get pregnant?”
Heather smiled. “We’re not trying not to.”
Ella squealed and jumped up and down, pulling Heather with her. She dropped her hands to her lower belly, which still showed little signs of rounding, and said excitedly, “That would be so wonderful if we had babies at the same time.” Ella grew serious and looked at Graeme and Trevor talking in the woods. “I think Graeme’s smart, telling you to work on your fire skills, though. Did I ever tell you what happened to me in the Pravus?”
Heather shook her head. “I’ve heard bits and pieces, but not all the details.”
“My body generated some sort of power that repelled Khain, maybe hurt him a bit. I’m not totally sure how it happened, but I’ve been thinking that you and I have been given these powers for a reason, and we need to strengthen them. Or at least learn to control them.”
Heather nodded, her eyes wide. “Oooh, let’s do it.”
Ella grabbed her hand and squeezed it. “Okay then, do you want to start tomorrow? In the yard behind the house?”
Heather glanced to the males, who were walking side-by-side, Trevor having taken off his light jacket and thrown it over his shoulder. “Should we tell them? They might worry.”
“I don’t think we’ll be able to hide it, and I know they already worry. Maybe they’ll worry less if we can show them some sort of competence.”
Heather crossed her arms over her chest and grinned. “It’s a date. I’m excited.”
“You should come to the house for dinner tonight. Since the KSRT induction ceremony has been postponed until Crew comes back, we wanted to do something for Troy and Trent and Graeme. Trevor already asked Graeme but said he didn’t think Graeme was into it. But we never see you.”
Heather smiled shyly. “We’ve, ah, we’ve been busy.”
“I know, newlyweds and all that.”
“It’s more than that, we ah, we were both virgins.”
It was Ella’s turn to look shocked. “Even him?” She said pointing towards Graeme.
Heather nodded.
“But he’s nine hundred years old.”
“Nine hundred and thirty-six, actually.” She stared into the forest, the love in her eyes spilling over. “His mother was the last female dragon and he would’ve killed any human he took, so he never did.”
“Wow,” Ella breathed. “What’s he like now?”
“Insatiable.”
Ella laughed. She could imagine. A screeching noise drew their attention and they both stepped away from the cabin so they could see the open meadow beyond the edge of forest. Smokey ran from the house, straight to the back of the property, bounding through the snow with Angel chasing him gleefully. The two housecats and one wild animal had gotten along immediately, but Angel had been standoffish with everyone else. From around the front of the house, a bigger black shape streaked after them. It was Troy, barking madly, and Ella wondered if Angel had warmed to him. Trent followed, but at a slow, almost tired, walk. He sat in the snow and watched the three animals play.
Heather motioned towards Trent. “What’s his story?”
“He’s an old soul. A thinker.” And I wish I knew if he was happy.
Heather seemed nervous as she stared at the wolves. “I heard him tell Trevor that you are worried about something and he needs to ask you about it, that it’s something big.”
Ella turned to her quickly. “Oh no. I wonder how he knows.” She grasped her sister’s hand. “I need to tell somebody this. Promise you won’t tell anyone, even Graeme?”
Heather grimaced. “I guess I can promise not to tell if he doesn’t ask me directly.”
Ella nodded quickly. “That’s good enough for me. My sister is pregnant.”
Heather shook her head. “The one in the hospital? Is that bad?”
“I don’t know if she was pregnant before Khain took her.”
Heather bobbed her head in understanding. “Oh no. Can Khain get humans pregnant?”
Ella dropped her eyes. “There’s a good chance that I am at least one quarter shiften. It stands to reason that she could be, too. Khain can get shiften pregnant.”
Heather grabbed her shoulders. “That’s not good. You have to tell Trevor.”
Ella threw back her head. “I know. If only I were sure if it was Khain’s or not, because I know what Trevor is going to want to do if he even suspects it is. I just found out that she had a boyfriend and he’s reported her missing, so I’ve gotta talk to him to find out if he knew she was pregnant. If he did, that solves everything. If he didn’t…”
Heather’s eyes were far away and, as Ella gazed at the sister she’d only known for two weeks but already loved more than the one lying in that hospital bed, she remembered something. “Graeme said a portal could be something small enough to hold in your hand, what about our pendants? I haven’t touched mine since it sent me to some other world.” She grimaced, remembering the absolute fear she’d felt as those horses had approached her at high speed when she should have been home in her own bed.
Heather turned to face her slowly, and Ella could almost see the lightbulb over her head. “You’re kidding me. I don’t think he knows that. You have to tell him the story.”
But Graeme and Trevor were already striding toward them with purpose, Graeme’s expression hopeful and Trevor’s resolute. Trevor had already told him.
***
Heather watched as Trevor pulled the pendant out of the safe slowly, being careful to touch only the chain it was secured on. He turned to Graeme and put it in his hands.
Graeme ran his fingers over it but frowned after a few moments. “I get nothing.” He turned to Ella. “I need you to handle it.”
Trevor stepped between them without giving Ella a chance to answer. “No way. She’s pregnant. I told you what happened the last time she touched it. We aren’t taking that chance again.”
Ella’s face showed relief while Graeme looked resigned, but frustrated. Heather held up her hand, her eyes ping-ponging between all three of them. “I’ll try. Will it work for me?”
Graeme turned to her, his eyes unreadable. He stared at her for a long while before he answered. “It might.” His eyes flashed. “Listen to me. Fix in your mind exactly what you want it to do. You only want information from it. You don’t want it to take you anywhere, you don’t want it to do anything, except talk to you. Make sure your intention is crystal clear.”
Heather felt a thrill go through her. Her mind cast back to her own pendant, and she wondered where it was now and what the boy Caius had done with it. “Got it, boss.” She held out her hand for it.
Graeme grasped her by one wrist and put the pendant in her hand, holding tight to her. Warmth spread from the object through her
body, feeding her thrill. She remembered the fire she had started when she’d first discovered her own pendant in her mother’s jewelry box and she took a deep breath, trying to contain her spiking fire-lust. She could feel it, aching to take control of her. Ella gasped, causing Heather to open her eyes and look down. The jewels in the face of the snarling wolf were glowing a bright orange-yellow.
Heather closed her eyes again and concentrated on her question as pictures she could not quite interpret flashed through her mind.
Can you take us to Dahlia?
She saw Dahlia in her imagination, wearing some sort of an old, dressy costume and carrying something heavy in her arms. The image faded and was replaced by another. Dahlia riding astride a horse, her head thrown back in laughter, again wearing that dress that looked straight out of the middle ages.
She opened her eyes and faced Graeme, her fingers curling around the pendant. She didn’t want to give it back. “I can see Dahlia, but I don’t know if that means I could go to her.”
Graeme turned away from her and paced through the room, hitting one hand against the other. When he spoke, his accent was heavy as if he were only talking to himself. “I dinnae believe we are supposed to go to Dahlia. The augur said Crew had to go to Dahlia and his friends had to recover the means to retrieve them from wherever they were.” He turned and fixed Heather with his eyes. “Ask it if we can find Dahlia’s pendant.”
Heather gave Graeme a secret smile, thinking he looked impossibly sexy when he was concentrating, then she closed her eyes and did as he asked. An image of a pendant flashed in her mind, different than the one she had in her hand, but more similar to it than her own, which had a dragon instead of a wolf on one side. She saw the pendant she assumed to be Dahlia’s hanging on a nail in an enclosed dark space. She tried to get more information but the image only spun.
Heather opened her eyes to relay what she had seen, but frowned when Ella’s expression turned scared and Trevor got between Ella and Heather, then grabbed for her, but his hands seem to go right through her. She looked down at her body, hearing a stuttering, whooshing noise in her ear like a wagon with one square wheel traveling at an impossibly high speed. She held onto the pendant tighter and looked around, only able to see Graeme for a moment before she disappeared out of Trevor and Ella’s house completely.
Chapter 28
Dahlia stared down at the egg, unable to believe they’d done it. She never would’ve been able to without Crew.
“That was impressive,” she said as she curled the egg into her chest and headed down the dark corridor towards the exit. “Can all werewolves do that, move things with their minds?”
Crew jogged to catch up with her, then stared down at her as he walked beside her. When he spoke, his voice was amused. “Werewolves don’t exist, Dahlia.”
She frowned at him. “Are you making a joke? I saw you change, remember?”
He grinned. “I’m not a werewolf. I am a shiften, able to change into my animal at will. The moon does not control me.” He thought for a second, then spoke again. “I will concede that during the full moon, some shiften feel more irritable, more aggressive, and all are more sexually-charged.”
Dahlia giggled. “Kind of like a shiften period?”
His grin grew and her expression turned pensive. “What does it do to you, personally?”
He grabbed her hand to pull her to a stop before they reached the end of the corridor, tucking her hair behind her ear with the other and tearing her heart open with his intense stare. “I look forward to showing you.”
When Dahlia could move again, they left the cave, squinting against the light, the egg held in Dahlia’s arms. The soldiers sitting on rocks a few feet away stopped their talking and stared, mouths open.
The leader recovered himself first. He stood and ordered one of his soldiers to, “Hie on to the market, as fast as you can, tell the king it is done.” He approached Dahlia, his eyes on the egg, his hands open.
Crew stepped between them and crossed his arms over his chest. “She keeps it,” he snarled.
The soldier dropped a hand to his sword hilt. “Who are you?”
Fear shot through Dahlia. She pulled at Crew but he did not move. She stepped next to him, speaking to the soldier. “My husband. He just got here. The king would like him safe and well-treated.”
The soldier did not take his hand from his sword, as he continued to stare aggressively at Crew. “How did you get in there with her?”
Crew challenged him. “Walked in under your noses, while you and your hens were clucking about the price of beets at the market.”
Oh, perfect. Hotheaded didn’t begin to describe him. Dahlia pulled at him. “Crew, can I talk to you for a second over here?”
Crew allowed himself to be pulled away. She stood on tiptoe and pulled him down by the shoulder so she could whisper in his ear. “What are you doing? They’re on our side.”
“Dahlia, it seems like they’ve all been perfectly kind to you, and because of that, I won’t humiliate any of them, but this is the way of males. You must not interfere or they will not respect me. If they don’t respect me, our way in this world will be much harder than it has to be, and eventually I’ll have to make them fear me. It’s been different for you because you are a female, but now I’m here.”
Dahlia stared into his eyes, noting their warmth as he gazed at her. So different from when he looked at the soldiers. She nodded. “Got it. I apologize.”
He kissed her quickly. “No need to be sorry with me, doll. Always know that.”
Dahlia shivered at his sentiment, wanting to show him how glad she was that he was there, but the eyes of the soldiers were on them. They returned and she stood back a step, letting Crew speak.
“Where are we taking this rotten thing?”
***
With narrowed eyes, Crew watched the soldiers mount their horses. He turned and stared suspiciously at the horse Dahlia had ridden up on and they were supposed to ride back on together. He walked in front of it and tried to lock eyes with it. The gentle mare whinnied nervously, and splayed her front legs, her ears rotating madly. Dahlia stepped forward to try to soothe her, smiling discreetly. She’d never been on a horse before when she’d first arrived in this world either, but Crew seemed almost scared of it. Definitely nervous. Didn’t he realize the horse was more scared of him?
She got close to him. “It’s ok. The ride’s not bad once you get used to it.”
Crew shook his head and pulled her close. “My animal doesn’t like it. My animal wants to run alongside.”
Dahlia glanced at the soldiers who were paying them no attention, then lowered her voice. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. I’ll tell you why later.”
He nodded. “Does it have anything to do with wolves who used to be shapeshifters?”
Dahlia gave him a sharp look, nodded once, then turned to watch one soldier on horseback urge his horse into a trot, then a canter.
Crew’s mood darkened. Dahlia pulled him towards the horse. “Don’t worry, we don’t have to go that fast. They’ll wait for us.”
With a look of resignation on his face, Crew reached a hand out to touch the horse. Dahlia thought the horse was going to bolt until Crew’s fingers reached it, and then the horse calmed at once. Crew grabbed a fistful of mane and swung a leg up and over until he was seated on the horse, grimacing and shifting in his seat. “Squashes the balls,” he muttered.
Dahlia grinned. He looked like an expert already if he could get over the ball squashing. He held out a hand to pull her up and she grasped it, squeaking as he lifted her straight into the air and deposited her in front of him.
They pushed the horse into a trot a few times, but mostly stayed at a walk. The ride to the market took almost an hour, but when they were still twenty minutes away they could hear the celebration. When they finally stopped their horses and dismounted, Crew lowered Dahlia to the ground first, then slid off with a groan of satisfaction. “I’ll never do th
at again.”
Dahlia didn’t have the heart to tell him that the castle where they would be sleeping would also require them to ride on a horse. She frowned, wondering if they would indeed be staying in the world that night. They had no way home that she knew of. The portal off the cliff-face was a no-go, in her mind.
The soldiers led them to a stage that had been built in the center of the marketplace. Crew challenged the stares of the curious citizenry who gaped openly at her and him with his strange clothing. Dahlia tried to smile at them. The faces were not as friendly as she had hoped.
King Caius rushed to meet them, wearing a thick gold crown on his head for the first time that she’d seen, a broad smile on his face. She held out the egg to him and he took it, then gave it to a soldier and tried to embrace her. In a flash, Crew was there, his hand on the king’s chest, stopping his forward motion, his lips pulled back in a snarl.
King Caius stepped back and motioned for his soldiers to sheath the swords they had pulled when Crew had touched him. Dahlia noticed a man standing next to him and slightly behind him that she’d never seen before. His face was long and sour, his hair unkempt and receding. His lips twisted as he watched the king greet them, making him look angry that they’d succeeded at recovering the egg.
“Who are you?” King Caius asked Crew, pulling himself up to his full height, which was almost as tall as Crew.
“Her mate,” Crew snarled as Dahlia said, “My husband, Crew.” As soon as Dahlia saw the king’s face soften, she shifted her gaze to the man next to him. His eyes widened with surprise and then narrowed, then he wiped his face clean of all expression. Dahlia shifted uneasily and looked back to the king.
The king held out his hand to Crew and they shook, Crew not softening at all, the king watching him carefully. “Good Sir, you are very blessed to have such a wife, and I thank you for admitting her to our services. She has saved my kingdom from grave dangers.”