Mistwalker

by Fraser, Naomi

  *Who are they?*

  *Fairies. Do not worry, no harm will come to you.*

  *Oh, I’m not worried about being hurt.* She gave his hand a tug.

  He laughed, and his thumb caressed the back of her hand. *One night, I will bring you back,* he promised. *The immortals in front of us are elves.*

  Her heart thudded at the dark assurance of his voice even as it floated into her mind. The burn of the mist paled in comparison to the heat flooding her body. She smiled up at his proud, intimidating figure. “Thank you. I’d like to come back.”

  A tall, silvery-skinned man with straight, blond hair and a muscled chest nodded to Juliun. All the elves bowed. They were dressed in leather vests, short leather pants and skirts. Their strong, supple legs matched the obvious lithe strength in their bodies.

  Juliun waited until the tallest, statuesque elf straightened to his full height. She could tell some kind of mind communication happened between the two, for the elf turned and pointed toward an exit through the back of the square near the tables of blood donor bags.

  She only saw a whirl of other creatures that she could barely guess at before they disappeared into mist and were racing down another tunnel where the scent of Tammy grew unbearably strong.

  Juliun stopped at a doorway on his right. “They went through here.”

  An inscription seemed to glow on the wooden door, and the closer Simone looked, the brighter the ripple of yellow light in the lettering. “Open it up, Juliun.” She reached out for the wood, impatient to proceed.

  “No.” He snatched away her hand. “This is the door to the Werewolf Compound. The tunnels in there lead out to the cliffs and sea. It is a full moon.” He frowned and pressed his lips together. “Anything that steps through there will be eaten alive.”

  “What? You mean Tammy…?” Simone couldn’t suppress the panic in her voice. She pressed a hand to her breastbone and breathed deep.

  “The words on the door are a spell. No werewolf or immortal can escape, except for the creator. It is a safe place for the werewolves. They know they cannot get out and kill anyone.”

  Her gaze lowered, and she fell back, gasping. She pointed in horror. “There’s blood coming out the bottom of the door. Look.”

  “Yes,” he said, grimly. “You best stay here. I am going in.”

  “Are you mad? You said you’ll be eaten. And if you’re going, then I’m coming, too. You’ll need back up.”

  He turned perplexed eyes to her. “What?”

  She stared mutinously at him. “You can’t go in there alone. How do we get through werewolves? Turn them all to mist?”

  “You want to help me?” He sounded uncertain. “We’ll have to fade out with them. The lycans are a vicious, deadly breed, driven crazy by the moon. If you turned them all, you would have to disappear with them. Then take the chance when you came back for your friend none would have come up through the tunnels.” He shook his head. “No, I go in alone.”

  He lifted his hand, and this time, she grabbed him. “Wait,” she said. “You take care of all the wolves, fade away everything exactly like you did with Kristoff, and I’ll be able to get through and save Tammy. No one will get hurt.” Simone smiled, pleased with herself.

  His incisors flashed, and he frowned. “I do not like it.” He paused. “I do not want you in there.”

  “Tough luck,” she said. “On three.”

  He breathed deeply. She tightened her grip around the handle of the Glock and reached out for the door at the same time as Juliun.

  A jolt charged through her system. A shocking wave rolled over her mind, and electricity buzzed along her nerves. She saw Tammy floating through the air and toward the door amidst a room full of snarling, ravenous werewolves. Tammy had been in there, but she’d survived and somehow escaped.

  A sudden force pushed Simone back from the door, and she bounced against the opposite wall. The breath left her body, and she gasped. “What was that?”

  Juliun laid a hand on her shoulder and steadied her. “A remembrance and repel spell.” He stared hard at the door, brow lowered, his hand moving down to clasp her hand again, kiss her lightly on the back of her fingers. “I have not seen one combined like that since...” He rubbed his chin and grinned down at her, his broad shoulders shifting. “We may have stumbled onto a bit of luck.”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Carlo clutched the end of the drain and slithered to freedom. Blood covered the stone ledge over the North Sea. His precious blood. He stood on shaking feet and ripped off his tattered shirt, knotting it tourniquet-style around his waist.

  His palms came away bright red. The crashing blue waves before him swam in and out of focus, and he swayed from the sudden rush of nausea and vertigo. If the fall into the sea didn’t kill him, the blood loss certainly would.

  Low growls and snarls echoed in the drain. Fetid dog stink combined with the purity of salty sea breeze. But the werewolves wouldn’t fit through the opening, and he breathed a little easier at the thought. The drains tapered off into the sea. He’d managed to squeeze through like a rat after cheese.

  What he faced was the sea. Then Master.

  He couldn’t be sure which he dreaded more.

  He awkwardly jumped from the rock face. The icy cold water closed over his head, salt stinging his gaping wounds. He didn’t have time to think. He couldn’t move his legs or swim with his good arm. His muscles burned, reactions slowed. The smell and taste of his own blood filtered through the water, and he sank deeper, deeper, into the cold blue.

  He imagined one of the finfolk would come to his aid so he could drink their blood. He fantasised about that. He could hold his breath for hours, but at the rate he was bleeding, he didn’t think he’d live that long.

  No one came.

  He started fighting. The more he struggled, the more the weight of his body wrenched him back down again. He twisted and turned his body toward the surface, but no matter how fiercely he laboured, he couldn’t lift his head above the waves.

  The swell intensified, the cycle of water strengthening. The sea became colder than anything he’d felt before. He knew the currents had swept him far from shore.

  The chance he would make it back to land slimmed with each minute, but he didn’t survive the Werewolf Compound to die from blood loss in the sea. Did he have a choice? Too weak to struggle anymore, thoughts of his Lorena flashed through his mind.

  He’d finally get to see her again.

  He cried far beneath the surface of the sea. The touch of her hand, pulling him upwards through the water. The sound of her voice calling his name.

  Lorena.

  He was going mad.

  A dark shadow swam beneath him, and he dived down to her, but it was a fish. Just a fish. Hunger convulsed his gut. He didn’t know the species and didn’t care. Blood was blood.

  He dug his nails into slippery scales, his teeth ravaging the fish. Head shaking to hold the prey, his hair flared out in the water. Blood erupted, spidery tendrils turning wet, dark blue to murky red.

  He kicked out, losing his shoes. His hands trembled as he snatched two, three, four fish from the school.

  Scales floated in the water. Blood trailed everywhere. Meagre strength pulsed in his limbs.

  He remembered his triumph in fighting off the werewolves facing him in the tunnels. His numbness at the slashes of their deadly claws, but hiding behind a small group of assassins who fought for their lives gave him a chance to escape. He headed for the exits, purposely sending the others in the wrong direction.

  He would not die because of some assassin’s ego trip. He wanted to go out on his own terms. And what of Master’s anger when he discovered the girl had been stolen and how so many assassins were eaten? Not that the female would have lived if she’d stayed.

  He finally summoned the energy from deep inside him to paddle to the surface. His head broke through the massive, turbulent swell. Land peeked on the horizon in a dark, jagged line at the downward roll o
f the waves.

  “Damn idiots.” Carlo lifted his good arm and swam for shore.

  ***

  “How many survived?”

  Two nurses hustled back and forth in soft steps around the sterile room. Four naked women lay slumped and drained on the floor beside Carlo’s cot. Their only use now would be in the pit. The tears on his stomach were beginning to heal. Putting his intestines back in had been agonising.

  “Only I, Master.” Carlo sucked in a harsh breath at the effort it cost him to speak. “Witch took the girl after the assassins led us to the werewolves.”

  Waves of dark energy pulsed through the air and hammered against his mind. Oh, here it comes. Had Master discovered that he bit the woman to try and save himself? Yet why hadn’t the mist worked?

  For some reason, Carlo felt the complete absence of fear. Master would pick up on the lack of emotion, but Carlo was past caring.

  “They failed. Do not concern yourself over Witch’s fickle endeavours,” Master said. “All is how it should be.” He laughed, looking younger than he had any right to. “I have new information.”

  Carlo laid a hand over the thick bandages at his waist and slowly drew the next human woman toward him. The white efficiency of the room contrasted to the blood leaking down her neck, her complete nakedness. Her eyes were drowsy with compulsion. He cuddled her close, then sank his fangs into the thin skin of her throat and drew in deep. Oh life. How truly bittersweet.

  “We captured the wrong female.”

  “What?” Carlo slurped. He dropped the woman and blood dribbled over his lips onto his bandaged chest. “We searched the prisoner’s mind. You did, too. How is that possible?”

  “It is true, my friend.” Master stalked toward the door and told the guard to send in more women. “My spies were in the network and told me the prince arrived with another woman. Reshin, one of the rogue goblins who can sense the powers of another, told me of her. He’s certain this new female has the mist. Remember the vampire was sick before he died. I am afraid his mind cannot be completely trusted.”

  “Who is she?” Carlo’s heart thrummed against his ribs. Excitement hammered within his body. No mistakes. This time the power would be theirs. Carlo would get it.

  “I have her image inside my mind.” Master smiled gleefully. He rose and floated over to the cot. “The spies traded it for safe passage and the mist. Of course, no loose ends, you understand.” His fangs flashed in wide, confident assurance. “I have investigated the girl and know all about this other one. We have a gambit she cannot resist.”

  Carlo leaned forward. “What’s your plan?”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  “Where are we?” A crisp breeze lifted Simone’s hair and blew the strands across her face. Tall, dark trees crowded the midnight diamond sky. The scent of frost was delicious and clean.

  Juliun stared off into the distance where the pearly glow of the moon was highlighted with smoky fog. “Devil’s Forest.”

  The thick grey of night faded until every leaf, stone and branch was magnified by a million times. She blinked, and her senses spread out in all directions. Animals scurried along the ground. An owl hooted in the distance. The echoes copied the tendrils of fire that snaked up her neck, and pain spiked into her lower lip. The soft chirp of birds came high in the branches, and she breathed in the strong scent of blood. Animal blood.

  Coppery wetness trickled over her tongue, and she groaned at the rich, tantalising flavour. She touched her lips and stared at the red stain on her fingertips. Her tongue swept against the back of her incisors that descended, and her belly rumbled. She closed her eyes, went very still, trying to quell the restless energy building in her legs, feeling herself turn into something else. She wanted to hunt. Needed to feed. After the session at Ravenkeep, she was wholly unprepared for the sudden cravings assaulting her. She could control it; she only had to convince her mind.

  “Juliun...I think I’m hungry again.” Her voice came out thread-like.

  He spun around, looked at her teeth and quick breaths. His dark brows lowered over his eyes, and he stretched out his wrist. “Take from me, love,” he said.

  Her stomach dropped with absolute longing, but she shook her head emphatically. “No. I can control it. I fed before, and we need to find Tammy.”

  “Newly changed vampires have no control over their hunger.” His voice grew incredibly soft, the line of his brow eased. “Why be so hard on yourself? It is okay to drink from me. You are under no obligation whatever happens.”

  “I’m trying to fight it.” She clenched her teeth, but the scents of the forest became flavours. A sweetness of trees, the earthiness beneath her feet and its combined wildness. She dragged in another breath, filling her lungs with the aromas of blood and sweet freedom. Her jaw ached. “I have to do this.”

  He appeared a hair’s breadth in front of her, looming. “The urge is inescapable. You must indulge it in some way,” he said. “We can run to find Witch; she’s the one who put the curse on the door at the Marketplace. You will feel better for it. You are a predator. Do not fight that. Chase the animals; only do not drink from them. You must drain the blood.” He faded and reappeared far off into the distance. “I will watch.”

  Leaves fluttered around his solid frame, and he studied the trees, his hands deep inside his trouser pockets. He cocked his head to the side. *Unless you think yourself incapable?*

  She materialised by his side, her teeth bared. Her leather boots sunk into the leafy forest floor. Hot energy beat in her veins. “Really?”

  He grinned. *Witch will keep Tammy safe for the time being, and we will find her. Do not worry. How fast do you think you are? Your body knows, and it is trying to tell you.*

  Her lungs hurt, burning with the intensity of her hunger. *I can’t give in to it fully.*

  His light gaze flicked over the woods with keen awareness. He looked like he could take on the world before he swung a leg from his bed. *It is scary at first. Maybe you can outrun me?* His strong body was a blur, then gone.

  She shouldn’t take this time to hunt before she found Tammy, yet Simone couldn’t help but run off her energy. She leapt down caverns, over tracks and through thickets of brush while the moon played peek-a-boo behind frail trees. Her long red hair streamed out behind her, her boots hitting the ground the same time as Juliun’s. Her muscles flexed with ease, release, and the rush spurred her onward.

  She wanted to get Tammy back, yet the chase calmed the beast.

  Every time she neared him, he’d disappear with the mist.

  Once again she had no idea of Juliun’s path. She’d spent her whole life relying on herself, and it was an unfamiliar sensation, an unwanted one even, learning how to trust someone else, especially when that someone held so much power over her. Now that she understood the power of the mist, she realised why he’d tried to keep her by his side.

  Juliun, as always, protected his subjects.

  If she hadn’t seen all the species and tunnels hidden beneath Whitby she would never have believed such a civilisation existed. But the truth could not be denied and explained all the mysterious disappearances in town, the stories of ghosts in the pubs and motels she’d heard as a child and the very real feeling of magic and death which everyone had shied away from discussing.

  A snap echoed in the foliage. She leapt over a half-frozen creek, her gaze on the edge of the trees. Icy water splashed her legs, soaking inside her boots. She followed him with her eyes, watching the way he moved, the direction he headed and when he used the mist. He was playing with her.

  He appeared at a slight incline where the land rose sharply then fell away to a valley. She waited there, as it was his intention.

  The dark wind coalesced with his preparation to fade again.

  She swept them both into mist and brought him close. Her teeth lengthened and eyes burned. *Can you...get me?*

  She dissolved into mist and took form on the top of a ridge. He stood far beneath her, her light laugh
ter rippling through the air, as she felt freedom firing in her heart. She disappeared, and then appeared on another ridge. She held out a hand and curled her index finger in come on. *Well? Come and get me, big guy.*

  He stared up at her, his gaze tracking her movements. A deep growl emitted from his throat, and the birds scattered from the trees.

  She stilled, staring back down at him. Her senses picked up his heartbeat, how it raced. She gave him an awkward half smile and raced off into the forest.

  Wind howled and twisted the leaves on the trees and her hair. The frigid gust streamed the strands behind her, pushing her away. She tried to adapt to the blasting chill, to the icy brush of snow and sprinted through the wind. How far into the forest would they have to go before this urge left her body? The freedom that she felt was more than an urge, it was a primal instinct.

  She heard him coming for her. He changed angles, crossing from left to right.

  She faded and backtracked to where she’d first caught him. The scent and sound of animals became the air, but beneath it, she smelled Juliun’s rich, aromatic blood. She emerged at the highest fork of a towering, gnarled tree. The wind whipped back her hair.

  “How fast are you?” she taunted him, her voice echoing.

  Even across distance, she saw the way his pupils expanded and fixated on her. *Simone.*

  He disappeared instantly.

  She jumped down and one hand steadied her crouch on the ground as she glanced around her. A boulder to her right moved, disorientating her as it pulsed in the air. “What the…?”

  A gentle push and she spun, then landed on her back on the leafy floor, staring up at Juliun as he leaned down over the top of her. He’d never touched her. She’d fallen because the air around them dissolved and then thickened. Everything had turned to mist—the ground beneath her feet, the air and trees.

  The fixed intensity of his face made her heart leap. His grey eyes swirled with emotion. “Where do you think you are going, beautiful?” He smiled slow and wide, his sharp white teeth on full display, humour crinkling the edges of his eyes.