Ellida

by J. F. Kaufmann

  She let out a deep sigh. “The fact that I’ve been out of action for such a long time doesn’t make it easier. He’s so close, and I can’t go see him. It drives me crazy.”

  “Why don’t we go to Silverbell Ranch today? If that getting-to-know-each-other-better period is so important for you, consider it like an impromptu field trip education.”

  “That might not be a good idea, Astrid. Shouldn’t you stay here?”

  “Nonsense. What can happen?”

  She closed her eyes for a moment and shook her head. “Heather’s back in town. She spent the last month in Copper Ridge. God knows what she was doing there. I don’t want to draw her attention to the three undercover wizards beside the Langdons’ ranch. And compromise your safety on top of that.”

  I smirked. “Hell, we have to face Seth sooner or later, but that’s not gonna happen today, trust my instincts. Come on Peyton, let’s go. Nobody needs to know we were there.”

  Peyton was still hesitant so I tried a different modus operandi. “You know what? I planned to go anyway. And if you prefer to stay here, fine with me.”

  It was a lousy bluff, I knew, but it worked.

  I’D ALWAYS been reluctant to use my magic power, but now that I was in full command of it, it felt good. I’d made Jack’s pickup invisible to the naked eye—not that we saw a lot of people on our way to Silverbell Ranch anyway—and soon we parked it behind the barn on the small farm that hid the three wizards.

  Not surprisingly, Ingmar was already there when I drove the truck in, opening Peyton’s side and literally carrying her out of the truck. For a long moment he just held her tight against his chest and then lowered her gently until her little feet touched the ground.

  “You came,” he whispered, holding Peyton’s head between his palms.

  “She made me!” A soft chuckle slipped out of Peyton’s mouth before it was muffled with a long, hot kiss.

  “I practically had to drag her here by her hair,” I laughed and went to the house, leaving Ingmar and Peyton to their own devices.

  It looked like the hastily imposed period of celibacy was soon going to be reconsidered.

  DINAH AND Gerard, Ingmar’s friends from Winston, a small town in the Canadian North, were a pleasant young couple in the vicinity of their mid-twenties, although with asyngaer, the physical age could be deceiving. My own grandparents looked to be in their thirties, for example. Both tall and willowy, with their sleek hair, wise eyes and elegant movements, they looked like they’d stepped from the pages of a Tolkien saga. Underneath their elf-like appearance, however, I quickly discovered two unconventional wizards with a quirky sense of humor. They were charming, easygoing and very much in love with each other. How had I managed to be stiff as a poker almost all my life, I wondered? Even Ingmar, that epitome of joyful living, often hadn’t been able to untie my inner knots. But then, nobody could until Jack came into my life.

  “Thank you for coming here,” I said simply to them.

  Gerard offered me a cup of coffee and sat beside Dinah. “You’re welcome, Astrid. There’s more, though. Winston decided to send one of our elite combat units to help you fight Seth. They’re on alert. Our Einhamir just spoke to yours.” He winked at me and smiled. “Nobody messes with a wizard and goes unpunished.”

  I smiled back. “And they’ll be most welcome,” I said, deeply touched. I couldn’t know what kind of army Seth had raised but if I were him, I would indeed think twice before starting a battle with my troops and allies.

  I sat on an armchair across from them and took a sip of coffee. “Tell me, how long have you known Ingmar?” I said.

  Dinah answered, “I studied the comparative history of Langaer; I’m a sort of expert on werewolves. Ingmar came a year or so ago with tons of questions. It took me a while to satisfy his curiosity, and in the meantime we became close. He felt awful because of his reaction to your transformation.”

  “He’s been making up for it quite nicely, with Peyton,” Gerard said, laughing.

  “As if they could help themselves. Not that they mind anyway. Cross-racial bonding is more common than most people would think, and as strong as mono-racial,” Dinah said. “I’ve been studying it for years. I started in our town, actually with Gerard and some other members of our families, and then I extended my research to the whole North American region. It’s so fascinating.”

  “Are you both half-and-halfs?”

  “Gerard is, I’m not,” Dinah said. “Winston’s werewolf territory, but there’re numerous families there whose one or more members are wizards. Most of them came to Winston at some point after being bonded with local werewolves or humans. We’ve been living together for centuries. There’re humans among us, of course, but Winston is isolated from other human settlements, with the exceptions of a local Native tribe.”

  I wanted to know something else, but before I could ask, the door opened and Peyton and Ingmar joined us, holding hands. Peyton quickly tried to pull her hand out of his, but Ingmar gently tightened his grip and linked his fingers with hers.

  Every visible inch of Peyton’s alabaster-white skin was flushed. Her deep blue eyes were so full of color that they looked like the violet hyacinths on her windowsills.

  Ingmar wrapped his other arm around my shoulder and kissed my cheek.

  “Well hello! Good to see you, too,” I said and kissed him back.

  “Hey, Peyton, glad to see you again,” Dinah and Gerard rose to greet her. The three of them had met when Peyton visited Ingmar in Seattle the first time.

  “Hi, you two,” she said and blushed even more. “Glad to see you, too.”

  Ingmar turned and locked his ice-blue gaze with me. “I’ll be entirely grateful to you for this visit, Astrid, but does Jack know your whereabouts at this moment?”

  “Jack’s out of town.”

  “And you decided it was a good time to wander around?”

  “I take every opportunity to learn about my realm,” I said. “Come on, Ingmar, there’s no danger. It’s our sacred territory. I’m safe here.”

  He turned to Peyton. “Do you have any influence on her? Because if you do, please try to reason with her. She used to be a logical person before she became a werewolf.” He looked back at me, rubbing my back. “Astrid, love, I know you think coming here isn’t a big deal, but it wouldn’t hurt you to be a bit more cautious. We’re not ready to confront Seth yet. We must not risk anything.”

  I blew air into my cheeks and then released it. “I was thinking, actually, of coming here three times a week. With Peyton, so that you three could train her.” I paused and looked at Dinah and Gerard. “Peyton is, as you might already know, a part wizard. She has significant powers, although latent. Ellida and I will train her, too.”

  “You’re busy enough without training me,” Peyton said.

  I turned to her. “The more wizards work with you, the better results we get. As you know, Gerard is part werewolf. I bet he has a unique approach to our energy. I’ll talk to Jack about how to organize this.” I frowned at Ingmar, “Don’t bother to tell him about our visit. I will.”

  “We’ll be delighted to train you, Peyton,” Dinah said. “Why don’t you simply move in here? There’s a spare room here. Come on, guys, you are bond-mates. What’s the big deal?”

  Peyton shook her head, “I can’t just disappear. Heather, my mother, she—”

  “I need Peyton in town for the time being,” I interrupted, sparing my friend any further explanation. I wasn’t even sure how much Ingmar knew about Peyton’s complicated relationship with her mother. Dinah and Gerard were practically strangers, and they didn’t need to know about that part of Peyton’s life.

  Peyton threw me a grateful glance.

  Well, I thought, if Peyton can’t disappear, she could go on a business trip. Instead of Italy or England, her favorite destinations, this time she could stick to the neighborhood.

  I ducked out from under Ingmar’s arm and fished for the car keys in my pocket.

&nb
sp; Ingmar’s hand reached out. “Give me the keys. I’m going to drive you back,” he said.

  His hands framed Peyton’s face. He lowered his head and kissed her tenderly. “I’ll miss you,” he said in a low, thick whisper. “I’m already missing you.”

  I smiled, remembering the same words I’d told Jack so many times. Why should lovers ever part?

  I turned my attention to Dinah and Gerard. “Tell me, does Winston have an Ellida?” Before they could answer, I added, “I apologize. I still don’t know very much about our society, but I’m learning.”

  Gerard smiled reassuringly. “Ah, that’s okay. You’ll learn everything you need to know down the road. You’ll pay her a diplomatic visit, so to say, sooner or later. The Ellidas keep in touch. Yes, we do have our Ellida. Her name’s Ariel.”

  “Ellida Ariel’s one of the youngest Ellidas in werewolf history,” Dinah explained with pride in her voice.

  “How old was Ariel when she first turned? When did her spirits connect?” I asked.

  “At the time of her first transformation. She was fifteen,” Gerard said.

  I looked at them puzzled. “But she hasn’t stopped aging, has she?”

  “Oh, no,” Dinah reassured me. “She’s twenty now, and she’ll stop aging around age twenty five, give or take a year. She turned early for an Ellida, true, but every individual of your kind is different. Ellidas are so rare,” she said, “so it’s difficult to find a common denominator, if there is any, except the right parentage. And that in itself, although essential, means nothing, unless the other conditions are met: the inner strength, which is a quality quite difficult to define, her wolf size and her wizard powers. Everything else varies. Most Ellidas have their first transformation postponed, but occasionally it does happen in adolescence. Some Ellidas are born with spirits already united and others need another werewolf to help them to connect their wolf and human parts.”

  “There must be some divine influence in that,” I said, surprising a smile. “It would’ve been a terrible idea to make me a full-fledged Ellida when I was fifteen years old.”

  At age fifteen, literally overnight, I turned into a hell-raiser who rode a motorcycle, parachuted, cave dived and glacier-skied. I faked my own and Ingmar’s vital statistics to register us for a 3100 km car rally in Egypt. Just before the race, Arnaldur and Erlander, Ingmar’s father, found us in the Cosmopolitan Hotel in Cairo and dragged us home. The memory brought a smile to my face, and I looked at Ingmar.

  “Remember Ralley des Pharaons, Ingmar?” I asked.

  Ingmar laughed. “Do I ever? You made us both twenty-one years old. I could pass for it, but you didn’t look older than thirteen.” He turned to Peyton, and kissed the tip of her nose. “At fifteen, Astrid was one step away from being locked up in a youth correctional center. Then she realized she didn’t want to be the cause of her grandparents’ premature death, and decided to become a doctor. The next year she faked her papers again, this time with her grandfather’s consent, and applied to medical school.”

  I laughed thinking about that turbulent time of my life. It hadn’t lasted long, a year or so, but oh, boy, it was crazy. Hormones? Teenage brain? My grandparents’ obsession with my safety? My need for the ultimate proof of their love? My rebellion against our famous rationis et ratio, leges et ordiem? All of the above? In any case, my wolf, hidden deep inside me, I knew that now, had wholeheartedly supported all my craziness, keeping me safe from harm at the same time.

  Once that crazy time had passed, I’d become the queen of the same logic and reason I so passionately had fought against. My magnificent beast, my inner daredevil, my protector, my balance, my better, stronger, braver self, had found more subtle ways to challenge the wizard inside me.

  WHILE DRIVING us back to Red Cliffs, Ingmar phoned Jack, who’d just arrived from one of his short trips, to tattle on us about our trip.

  “I told you he’d go ballistic,” he mouthed, laughing and holding the phone away from his ear. I could hear a long stream of loud, angry rants about my recklessness, and then Jack asked Ingmar to ask me please why I hadn’t at least told Ahmed where I was going.

  “Because he wouldn’t let me go, that’s why,” I snapped, as Jack continued cursing, swearing and threatening to lock up both Peyton and me. He mentioned the ankle monitor and—because that was too good for me—handcuffs.

  I couldn’t resist the challenge. “Oh, I like that part, Jack. Check the bottom drawer, on your side of the bed, honey. I’ll be there in ten minutes,” I said in a smoky whisper.

  He said something unintelligible and then I heard, “I have a better idea,” before he disconnected. Peyton opened her mouth to say something, but I cut her off. “Not a word. Any of you.”

  They burst into laughter instead.

  Ingmar dropped me off first and then drove Peyton home, leaving Jack’s truck in her garage, still invisible to accidental spectators.

  Thirty-Two

  Astrid

  JACK OPENED the door and stepped aside to let me in.

  “Upstairs.”

  I sprinted the stairs, giggling, thrill spreading inside me like fire. I could hear Jack behind me.

  My red dress and black net-stockings lay spread across the bed. A pair of black pumps with crisscross straps was neatly placed on the floor.

  The nightstand next to his bedside sported a pair of shiny handcuffs, which we didn’t keep in the house at all, I was quite sure about it.

  I turned around and looked at my gorgeous man. He leaned against the doorframe, his long legs crossed at the ankles. His eyes, dark and slanted, moved lazily over my body. I could hear the strong and fast thumping of his heart and smell his musky arousal. My eyes wandered around his tight, worn out T-shirt, deliciously stretched over his muscled chest, before they traveled south. I licked my lips.

  “Where did you get the handcuffs?” My husky voice sounded so sexy it didn’t sound like mine at all.

  The deep, throaty growl that came out of Jack’s chest sounded more familiar.

  “I’m a sort of sheriff here, am I not? From the police station, where else? I was there when Ingmar phoned.”

  “Why did you go to the police station? Any problems?”

  “No problems at all.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “If you’re the sheriff, you have the uniform, then, do you? Do you wear it sometimes?”

  His nostril flared, and the corner of his mouth twitched. “Nice try, but I’m still angry, baby. And you are not allowed to talk, unless I ask you something. You’re reckless, stubborn and disobeying, and it’s time to teach you a lesson.”

  Uh-oh. Something bad was about to happen, and I could hardly wait. “What exactly do you mean?”

  “Don’t talk, I said. It’s simple, in fact. You have to do whatever I tell you. Understand?”

  Oh, it was getting better and better every second. I nodded.

  “Now, put that dress on.”

  I grabbed the dress, stocking and shoes and made a step toward the bathroom.

  “Here, Astrid. Put the dress on here. I’m taking you out for dinner.”

  If that was going to be the punishment for wandering around, tomorrow I was going to visit Maggie in Austin. All by myself and on foot.

  I unbuttoned my shirt, taking my time, revealing with each button a little bit more of my skin and smoky-grey satin-and-lace bra. My wardrobe was a happy mixture of elegant and casual but mostly inexpensive clothes, but when it came to lingerie, I was sort of obsessed. My chest of drawers was full of the finest pieces of various undergarments. And the most beautiful nightgowns, which I now didn’t wear as a part of an old deal between Jack and me.

  I slowly slipped the shirt off my shoulders when Jack stopped me. “Leave it there. First your bra.”

  I unclasped it, holding it over my breasts with my hand, and then slowly took it off. The thin, silky fabric of my turquoise shirt brushed over my breasts, already swollen with arousal.

  Jack let out another deep growl, but did
n’t move. Two hungry eyes feasted on my exposed skin.

  All right, then. He wanted to play, so play we would.

  Keeping my head low I caught my bottom lip between my teeth, casting occasional glances at Jack through my lashes, hot and suggestive.

  The sweet ache between my legs was so intense that my knees buckled.

  Where did I learn to undress like a stripper? I wondered as a rush of blood soared through my body.

  I removed my matching miniature panties, and stood completely naked, save for the necklace with the wolf pendant that nested above the soft valley between my breasts, and my pink diamond engagement ring.

  Jack finally moved from the door, took a few steps toward me, and then stopped. He held on to the last threads of self-control, a hairbreadth away from hurling us both into bed.

  He swallowed hard. “Stockings first, then shoes, then dress. Hurry up,” he commanded in a husky whisper with a wolfish smile on his lips.

  When I was done, he moved aside and let me out, walking a few steps behind me. He murmured something about my posterior and my dress that should come with a hazard label instead of the designer’s. “Skull and crossbones, lethal danger, that should be there,” I heard him grumbling as he opened the passenger’s door of my car and let me in.

  I WAS wondering where we were going.

  Einhamir and all, I knew Jack would never parade me around Red Cliffs dressed like that. My dress and my nakedness under it, not to mention Jack’s physical reaction, were too intimate for letting anybody else have even an involuntary glimpse.

  I sank into the seat. The cold, sleek leather met my hot skin, sending shivers through my body. Jack drove fast, in total silence. I was so aroused that I had to keep my fist clenched, my legs tight and my body rigid so that Jack could safely take us wherever he’d planned to.

  At some point we left the main road, turning off onto gravel. The car stopped. We were parked on a patch of grass at the beginning of the forest.