by Ivy Asher
And then it hits me.
“No, no, no, no, no, no, no!” I scream as I scramble to my feet. I charge through the clearing, waiting for the telltale staticky feeling and the blast of power, but nothing happens.
Panic floods me, and I look around, trying to figure out what the fuck to do.
“Cree!” I call out, my voice breaking and my heart slowly shattering as understanding dawns on me. “Cree, you fucking bitch, bring me back right now!” I order.
But the only thing that answers is the wind as it picks up some snow and forces it to dance around the clearing.
This can’t be happening. I’m dreaming. I have to be dreaming, and this is just a nightmare.
“Pigeon, wake us up,” I beg, and I feel her stir inside of me, waking up and trying to figure out what’s going on. “She sent us back, Pidge. I don’t know how to get back,” I admit, and Pigeon wakes the fuck up and fills me with fury.
“Wekun!” I scream. “Wekun, help!” I try to picture him and slip to wherever he is, but it doesn’t work. Then I try Zeph, Treno, and Ryn, but when I open my eyes, I’m still sitting in the freezing snow in the middle of the wrong world.
Tears start to drip down my face. And I scream, my lament ripping out of my heart and soul. How could this happen? After everything I’ve been through, after everything I did to find my place, for it to all just end up like this? I shake my head, refusing to accept my circumstances.
“NO! I am not going to be fucked over by fate like this!” I shout at the wind, my enraged and tormented voice bouncing off the bare tree trunks and hopping around the clearing like destiny itself is taunting me.
“I’m going to rip your fucking head off when I get back, Cree. And I will get back!” I bellow, purple magic streaking over my arms and punctuating my fury. Pigeon wails and rages inside of me, and I let her out in hopes that maybe she can trigger the gate somehow. We storm around the clearing as though if we just look hard enough, we can find the way back in. But we can’t.
Pigeon rips apart the stone house, chucking the roof into the trees and pulverizing the walls until the last of her energy is spent. We keen together and cling to one another as loss and desolation make us their bitch. I wanted so badly for so long to find the gate and make it back here. But I had let it go, I was finding my place, and my mates…
Agony rips me open, and I crumble in on myself. They’ll think I abandoned them or that something happened to me. How long will they look? Will they know what happened? Where I am? Pigeon flashes me Wekun’s face, and I nod and take a deep breath.
“You’re right. Wekun can see us. He watches my Sept, he said so himself. He’ll realize what happened and bring us back. It’ll be okay,” I reassure the both of us.
So we sit down in the snow, and we wait. He’ll come. We just have to wait.
25
“No, it’s called Tierit. T-i-e-r-i-t,” I spell out, as I flip the sign on the front of the door from Open to Closed.
“Ma’am, we’ve looked, but we aren’t finding a city or a town anywhere in Canada by that name,” the secretary for the new private investigator I’m thinking of hiring tells me on the other end of the phone.
“I know you don’t see it on Google Maps or any other GPS, that’s why I want to hire your company so you can look for it,” I explain for the seven millionth time since I started hiring PIs to help me.
I walk back over to my front desk and cross the name of this firm off of my list. If they can’t figure out what I even want to hire them for, they aren’t the right fit in the first place.
It’s been three months.
Three months since I unfolded my snow-dusted, frozen limbs from the middle of a clearing in nowhere Alberta, Canada, and slipped back to the small town I thought I’d never see again in the Rocky Mountains of Colorado.
Three long, agonizing, heart-wrenching months. Months filled with days sitting in a freezing clearing. Waiting. And then having to accept that Wekun wasn’t coming. Months filled with hours where I ripped my gran’s house to shreds, looking for clues. But no matter how hard I looked, I never discovered a map to any other gates.
I’ve spent months hunting and taking down every detail of what I can remember Wekun said about Sentinels and where they lived. I’ve gone from searching for a gate to searching for him. Maybe Cree killed him or tied up the loose end that Wekun was, in a way that keeps him from helping me or the guys, but I can’t give up. I won’t give up.
Someone somewhere knows, and maybe if I look in enough corners and make enough noise, they’ll come see why I’m stirring up so much shit. It’s clear the Sentinels want to be found about as much as the Ouphe did, but I don’t care. I need to get back.
I’ve called every supernatural investigator I could find to help me look for any leads about people with magical marks or unusual abilities, or for anyone who knows anything about Tierit and where it could be, but so far, nothing.
“You know what? Just forget about it,” I tell the secretary who’s just not getting it. “Thank you for your time, but I’m going to go in a different direction.”
She starts to tell me something, probably to argue that they’re the right people for the job, but I hang up on her, already at my limit for stupid today. I sigh and open my laptop. I need to order parts for the Seaman car and check to see if any useful emails have come in.
I never found any useful information about the Ouphe or the Gryphons in gran’s old house, but I did find a deed stating that gran bought the old Miller auto shop before she died, and she put it in my name. I wasn’t ready to see it for the gift that it was when I first found it. I was too wrapped up in longing and frantically searching for a way back. But about a month ago, when I realized I couldn’t solve things on my own, I went ahead and opened Griffin Automotive, partly to give me something to do other than worry and pace and feel pissed off. But really, I need to pay the bills. I’m trying to get a whole network of help going, and that shit is not cheap.
Gran’s house is up for sale, which will help, and I moved into the apartment above this shop to keep expenses low, but I have no idea how long it will take to find either Wekun, Tierit, a Gate, a Sentinel, or even another Gryphon.
I rub my hands over my face and roll my neck. It feels weird to try and live a normal life day-to-day when my soul hurts so badly, but I know I need this, and not just the money part of it. It’s good to keep busy and focus on something other than the fact that I’m stuck. I look down at my hands and the oil and engine grease that’s settled into the cracks and nail beds. Maybe I need to get a manicure. Ms. Waters would sure love that. She always got all kinds of surly when Gran and I used to go in for manis and pedis before she died.
I chuckle at the thought and make a quick list of everything I need to order. Pigeon stretches out inside of me, and I smile.
“I’ll be done soon, and then we can go flying,” I tell her, and she starts doing her daily stretches. I spend all day fixing the never-ending line of cars that seem to be waiting for me. When I opened Griffin’s, I didn’t know the only other local mechanic’s shop had just closed, and I’ve been busier than I ever thought I would be.
But my evenings are for Pigeon. We take off as soon as the sun starts to set and fly until the stars are kissing our back. It’s been our only reprieve, and so far, so good on the not being spotted part.
The bell I keep meaning to take down above the entryway chimes as the front door opens. Shit. I must have forgotten to lock it.
“Sorry, we’re closed,” I call out as I pull up the site I need parts from.
I look up to find tan skin, black hair, and molten brown eyes making their way to me. In another life, I would have marked this dude as a future conquest, but there’s only three males who do it for me now, and I can’t figure out how to get back to any of them.
“Sorry to show up after hours, but Cassie over at the motel said if I had a car that needed to be fixed, Griffin’s was the best place to do it,” he tells me, his voice dip
ped in silk and his smile captivating.
Yeah, he’s definitely the kind of guy who’s used to getting what he wants. I take a discrete deep breath to identify what he is. He moves like a predator, and I’d bet this shop the dude’s not human. Wolf is the dominant scent, but there’s hints of other things too that I don’t have time to catalogue unless I want him to know I’m sniffing the shit out of him.
“You’re fine, Cassie’s the best, and I’m happy to help. What kind of issue are you having…” I trail off in a fill in the blank with your name kind of way.
“Oh sorry, Mateo Torrez, but most people call me Teo or, well, yeah...Teo is fine,” he offers, getting a little tongue-tied, and it makes me wonder exactly what are the other things people call him?
“I’m Falon, it’s nice to meet you, Teo. So what can I help you with?”
“Right, so my pack and I are in town for work, and we’ve been having issues with our cars. One won’t start. I checked the battery, and that seemed fine, so I’m not sure what’s wrong, and the other one makes a clunking noise when you change gears or brake. I’m hoping you all can have a look and let us know if it’s anything we should be concerned about.”
“Absolutely, would you like me to tow them back to the shop so I can get a thorough look? Or I can also come to the motel and just poke around and see if I can figure out what’s going on,” I offer, and Teo looks a little taken aback.
“Oh, you’re the one who does the actual fixing?” he asks, surprised, and I try not to roll my eyes.
“Yes, this is my shop. What kind of cars are they?”
“They’re both Range Rovers. Sorry, I didn’t mean to go all caveman there; it’s just when Cassie said go to Griffin’s, I pictured someone more…” he trails off.
“Not me?”
“Yes, although as I’m saying that, I’m realizing it still sounds sexist, so I’m just going to shut the fuck up now and hope you’ll still look at the cars.”
I laugh and give him a kind smile. “Of course, don’t even worry about it,” I tell him as I push up the sleeves of my work coveralls and make a list in my head of things I should add to my toolbox for this call.
Teo’s eyes fix on the markings on my forearms, and I see them widen with shock and then confusion for a fraction of a second before he takes a deep inhale so he can scent me. I’m not all that surprised by his smelling me; I mean, I did the same thing when he walked in, but it’s like my marks themselves triggered something within him, and not just general curiosity.
His brown eyes move to my hands as I set them on the front desk while I wait for him to tell me what he wants to do about his cars. His shocked gaze flicks up to mine, and he opens his mouth to say something when suddenly “Who Let the Dogs Out” starts playing from his front pocket.
He takes a moment to sort of snap out of whatever stupor he’s currently in, and then he quickly reaches into his pocket for the phone.
“Fucking twins,” he mumbles as he swipes to answer.
“Yeah? . . . Shit. Where?” he asks, his face going hard.
I can hear someone on the other line answer, but I can’t make out what they say.
“I was just speaking with the mechanic. No, it’s fine, I’ll meet you guys there. Hold on one sec,” he tells whoever is on the phone, and then he looks back over to me. “Sorry, a work thing has come up. Can I come back later to make arrangements?”
“Of course, just text this number,” I tell him as I hand him my card.
His eyes flit back to my marks, and then he backs up and turns for the door, bringing the phone back up to his ear.
“I’m on my way now. Is the Witch there? . . . No, but something weird just happened, and I think it’s something we all need to look into.”
The door shuts behind him, making the bell ring again. Well, that was weird. I turn my attention back to my laptop. Maybe I’ll call Cassie and see what this dude and his pack are all about.
My skin prickles, and I can practically feel Pigeon on the brink of taking over. So I quickly put my parts order in and shut everything down. I lock the front door, double-checking that I actually got it this time, and flip off all the lights. I head to the back of the shop that now houses a gryphon-sized doggy door. It’s basically a metal shutter I fabricated to cover the hole an impatient little chicken wing put there a couple weeks ago. I’ve rigged it to go up and down like a manual garage door, so it worked out fine. But Pidge and I had a little chat about patience.
I start to strip out of my coveralls, tank top, bra, and underwear, and before I can say Pidge is a needy bitch, she shoves her way out of me like it’s Black Friday at Walmart and the doors just opened.
“Easy dude, I just finished that,” I growl at her when she uses a little too much strength to open the metal door.
She gives me a sheepish shrug, which is about as close as I’ll get to an apology from her, and we’re leaping for the sky and pumping our wings as hard as we can, aiming for the colors that are just starting to streak across the horizon.
We live on the outskirts of a keep-to-yourself town that’s more Supe than Non. I thank my lucky stars for that; otherwise, we wouldn’t be able to do this. I sit back and enjoy the view as Pidge works through her feelings with barrel rolls and corkscrew dives. She soars and races the wind and screeches out a dominant cry, claiming the sky for her own.
I try not to feel sad that there’s no one to answer her like there should be. I spend my days trying not to think about the what ifs, but when I’m trapped in my own head while Pigeon is in control, it’s hard not to. I’m not sure what happens to us if we can never get back. Sure, having jeans and underwear is not something I’m in a hurry to abandon, and fuck knows the food here is a million times better. I didn’t realize how much I had missed working on cars and talking to people who get my jokes or swear like I do, but this place could never feel right, because it doesn’t have them in it.
Pigeon sends me an image of Zeph trying to work the coffee maker, or Treno attempting to start the microwave, and I chuckle. This world would eat them alive. They’d probably try to fight cars, altogether thinking they were wild beasts, or yell at the TV because it wouldn’t obey their commands.
Pidge soars on a current, and we relax into the cool air. I can smell snow on the air and see a blanket of white clouds in the distance. Unease crawls up my spine out of nowhere, and Pigeon and I both sit up and take notice. We rise up on a cross current, quietly and attentively scanning our surroundings. Something sets the both of us off, but neither one of us spots anything.
“Is it something on the ground?” I ask, and Pidge adjusts our angle so we can scan below us. We’re so high up I doubt anyone would know what to make of us even if they could pick us out. We both stay vigilant, but when a couple more minutes go by and nothing appears around us, we start to relax again.
The sun dips further down, and a chill in the air starts to nip at us as the sunset paints purple, red, and orange streaks across the sky. We start to slowly glide back in the direction of the shop to fly around the cloud-crusted mountain that’s just behind the town.
I get lost in my thoughts again, making plans to try and train more, to tow Teo’s cars if it snows tonight, to order fried rice and wontons for dinner, when a shadow falls over us and there’s a sudden shift in the air above us. I barely have time to think what the fuck before something slams into us. Pigeon screeches and twists to try to get a chunk of whatever the fuck this is, but as we maneuver ourselves around in midair, our gaze settles on honey-colored eyes, and a vicious roar blasts past us.
Zeph?
Elation and confusion war for the forefront of my thoughts. Is he here? But how is he here? Did Pigeon and I get struck by lightning, and this is all just some hallucination while we fall out of the sky, a half-roasted gryphon?
Pigeon shouts a surprised screech back, which is answered by a call behind us. I tear my eyes away from the sky shadow and see a gray and white gryphon charging right for us. Exhilaration str
eaks through Pigeon, and the next thing I know, she drops into a dive, excitement racing through her.
“Pigeon, what are you doing?” I scream at her, panicking that she’ll lose Ryn and Zeph and we’ll once again never find them.
I’m still not even sure that I’m not just imagining this. Pigeon shrieks a challenge and dives with all her might. I scream at her to stop, beg her to go back, explain that this isn’t the time for games, but she won’t listen. I spot the clearing behind our shop and the two males standing in it, and my heart once again lurches.
Treno.
Wekun’s beside him, looking up at my missile-like advancement with a smile on his face.
He found us.
Pigeon lands with a skid that leaves tracks in the dirt and turns to look up at the sky.
“Pigeon, don’t you fucking dare! You are not going to have gryphon sex before I’m allowed to find out what the hell is going on,” and have my own sex, I tell her, leaving the last part out.
She flashes me the seagulls from Finding Nemo as they squawk “mine” over and over again, and incredulity shoots through me.
“They are my mates too, Pidge, you can’t just do that. I thought we were a team?”
Satisfaction blooms through her, and I feel her recede. I look at her, confused, and she flashes me a GIF of Drake clapping at a basketball game, and the caption reads, “That’s what I’m talking about.” She pulls all the way back inside us, and I immediately take a running leap and wrap Wekun up in a massive hug.
“I fucking knew you would find me. Thank you! Thank you so fucking much.”
I feel Zeph and Ryn land, and I pull out of Wekun’s hold and leap at Treno.
“Are you real?” I ask, still not believing what my eyes can see and my hands can touch. “Are you here, please tell me you’re here.”
Tears stream down my face. And I push out of his hold and reach for Ryn when he steps up next to us. I wrap my arms around his neck and squeeze with everything in me.