I hadn’t bothered to take them up on their offer, but I had been practicing with Roland. Turns out that forcing wings out of my back wasn’t easy. I was getting better at using the silver magic – whatever it was – but it drained me faster than my wizard’s magic. The one major difference was that it seemed to function on need.
Which was why I’d had a hard time sprouting wings. I could do it, but it drained me quickly. I had even shown off for the bears last night – after a few drinks. But it was hard to find a legitimate need for wings. Plenty of wants, but not needs. For now, when push came to shove, I banked on being a wizard, not a Heavenly mutt on an Angel’s leash.
Starlight continued dragging his claws down my back, as light as possible, not scratching me, but tracing unseen designs across my entire back.
I felt tension slip away, even though I hadn’t known I carried any. Then again, it could be the last of the cold leaving my bones. Still, where his fingers touched, my skin felt hot, like he was tracing warm wax on my body.
My ears began to grow fiery hot as I realized that the relaxing sensation was eliciting a very different response from my lady bits. Then I heard Beckett moan in pleasure beside me, almost as if surprised to feel the calming effects of meditation for the first time. Which lit me up like a firecracker, but soon I didn’t have time to be jealous. Each erogenous zone of my body suddenly felt dipped in molten oil. Not painful, but as hot as they could get while still causing pleasure. Genitals, ears, hip bones, nipples, the tip of my tongue, my lips, and the arches of my feet.
Before I could grow concerned at this rapid progression, Starlight murmured into my ears. “This is entirely normal, do not worry. You will remain in full faculty of your actions. Your senses are simply heightened from the smoke in the room. It won’t have the ultimate effect unless directly inhaled from the ritual pipe, but for your body to react so strongly so soon means you are in very firm control of your body, no stranger to introspection…”
I mumbled agreement. My tongue felt thick. “Meditation is one of my main disciplines. For over a decade…”
Without warning, Starlight was suddenly cupping my breasts. For some reason, I didn’t flinch, but relaxed further, almost pressing into his touch, my mouth opening slightly. The warm pads of his paws were surprisingly soft and his fur almost tickled. His claws felt like ice-cubes in comparison, and each frozen tip pressed different points of my breasts as he gently squeezed. I shuddered and almost had an accident – an entirely pleasant one, because my eyes were still closed, and the loss of one sense had heightened all the others.
Good fucking god. What was this stuff, and why wasn’t it illegal?
I didn’t even find it weird that a bear was fondling my breasts, because there was nothing sexual in his motions – it wasn’t his fault how my body chose to respond.
He relaxed his hold but his claws maintained contact, arcing around my breast in icy lines against my molten, sweat-slicked skin. They skated laterally until they rested above the sides of my rib cage, pausing. Then they slid down, causing me to shiver before his paws gently squeezed my sides just above the hip bones.
I was panting, but my mind felt like it was drifting away on dandelion fluff. Then I felt the pipe touch my lips and my mouth opened further instinctively, teeth clamping down on the stem. I took an inhale.
“Hold,” he rumbled in a low tone from directly in front of me. I held the smoke in as he withdrew the pipe and I heard him place it beside me.
His paws gently gripped my upper thigh, the claws gripping almost the entire perimeter of my flesh as he placed his furry forehead against my own. “Exhale…” he breathed.
I did, and my fucking soul left my body.
I may or may not have climaxed. Sue me.
Chapter 8
Wind whipped past me as I stood on a cloud above Kansas City. I wore white robes, stained crimson at the hem, and my feet were scarred and calloused, used to being bare. The city below me was on fire, and the only buildings that remained standing had giant, glowing runes carved into their sides. Winged shapes flew through the skies around me, too fast for me to get a clear look other than to say they were humanoid. All I could see for certain was their wings. Some were made of formed smoke, others of fire, others of ice, some of liquid, shifting metal, and some of nothing specific at all. My vision distorted as I tried to identify them clearly, as if I was looking through multiple prisms of crystals stacked on top of each other, an optical illusion. But for every type of wing in the sky, there were two different variations.
Take the wings of fire, for example.
Some were bright and gleaming – silvers and golds, reds and oranges – in other words, light.
But some of those burning wings seemed stained by shadow, as if someone had tossed smoke into their substance, or black tar. They were still fire, the same colors of flame as the light ones, but they were dark.
Angels and Fallen Angels? Something else?
The light and dark fought, slamming into each other, cutting wings to send their opponents wheeling down to the ground, where hundreds of dark, grotesque monsters or light, majestic beasts – some as large as small buildings, and others merely seething swarms of normal sized creatures – devoured the free meals. Or continued fighting their opposites. Light beasts versus dark monsters. Again, specific details were distorted, but the light and dark aspect was clear.
Most of those falling from the skies were the light Angels.
Which probably wasn’t great.
A sharp crackle of power caught my attention, and I glanced down at my fist to see a bar of light gripped in my scarred knuckles. A spear of pure light. I pointed it absently, inspecting the haft, and bolts of white lightning exploded from the tip, striking a dozen dark Angels simultaneously.
Several of the light Angels that had fallen to the ground instantly overwhelmed their attackers, rather than being devoured, decimating the monsters in their immediate vicinity.
I glanced from them to the spear, and then I thrust it out again, a small smile creeping over my face. More lightning shot forth, slamming into yet more of the dark Angels now fluttering towards me as if seeing me for the first time. As one, their black, stained faces locked onto mine – not clear enough to make out features, but more like a smeared oil painting. Some kind of disguise? Then they flew at me, screaming loud enough for me to jolt physically.
I was suddenly in a different place.
A dark, murky alley, and Abundant Angel Catholic Church rose before me. Arthur, our new janitor-slash-security guard lay sprawled on the ground, stabbed to death with a crucifix that the murderer had left behind.
The church itself was smoking. Not on fire, but as if the stone itself was hot to the touch, creating smoke as soon as air touched it. A large cross was buried into the earth just to the right of the steps beside the statue of the angel that had been there as long as I had known the place.
The cross was made of smoldering coals and held together by red, crackling chains of darkness. No flame licked the air, but the cross of embers was barely being held together by the magical chain. Each time it threatened to crumble, the chains flared darker, shifting to hold it together at all cost.
Roland knelt before it, muttering in a dried, rasping breath, praying to God in Latin over and over again, as if he had been doing it for days without rest, food, or water.
As if he was the only one holding the cross together.
The chains were his. The last of his power.
“Roland!” I shouted in disbelief, unable to move my body.
His head flinched, and he turned briefly, making me gasp. He was crying blood and had no eyes. He recognized my voice though, and burst out crying and laughing.
“Save me…” he rasped, and then he fell face-first to the ground, and the cross began crumbling as his magical chains evaporated.
I flung out my hand, desperate to maintain whatever he had been working on, and the world flashed black.
I found mysel
f back in a familiar office. The demon – Johnathan – had been working on a project before I had killed him, and his sister, Amira, had tried to pick it back up before I killed her as well. The room was covered in soot, now, because when I had last been here it had burst into flame. But one thing was glowing on the wall.
Well, three things.
WHY MISSOURI?
NATE TEMPLE?
CALLIE PENROSE?
These three lines of words were glowing with green, greasy fire. As I looked closer, I realized they were carved into the stone, and the green fire was actually from the other side of the wall – revealing the hellish pits of an entirely different place beyond.
I pressed my face against one of the wider cracks and saw a throne made of smoke. A great hulking figure lounged, his wings flaring behind his back. His head swiveled, locking directly onto me. I scrambled back with a shout, but green fire obliterated the wall, showering me with gravel, stone and crumbling mortar.
Then I was falling and the green fire enveloped me.
Whispers carried me on the winds of time, and I wept as I listened to their stories of the Fallen Kingdom of Man.
Chapter 9
My eyes shot open and I panted desperately. I was back in the hut. Claire was sitting beside Beckett, who was smiling as he spoke to her, looking entirely relaxed. A paw squeezed my thigh and I glanced down, following it to see Starlight frowning at me oddly – as if a smile had just begun to falter.
“Callie?” he asked softly. “Are you okay?” He was staring at me as if wondering why I was panting.
I tried to catch my breath. “How long have I been out?” I whispered hoarsely, trying to recall what I had seen. My mind abruptly seared with pain and I felt something slam down between me and the memory, like a mental portcullis in a castle. No… a voice purred inside me. Not yet…
I groaned as the pain receded, stars flashing in my vision. It hurt so much I didn’t even worry myself about the voice.
Starlight hesitated. “Not even five minutes. You were fine until you just opened your eyes, panting as if you had just sprinted a mile. What happened?” he whispered, seeing the fear in my eyes.
“I… don’t know. I saw… things,” I shivered, struggling to batter down the wall in my mind, but it was futile. What the hell? “Horrible, horrible things,” I whispered. That was all I remembered. That whatever I had seen was beyond bad.
He suddenly wrapped me up in a tight hug, and I felt myself latch onto him like a lifeline, sobbing and shivering. What had I seen? The past? Present? Future?
“Was it real?” I whispered, grabbing fistfuls of his fur and holding him close. Even though I didn’t remember anything, I needed to know if it was real in case that mental barrier ever came down. I needed to know that I could stop whatever it was that had shaken me so badly.
When he didn’t answer, I pulled back to look at him. He was comically small compared to the other bears. Almost as if he was a young cub. But I was pretty sure he was much older than any of the other bears because he had gray hair on his muzzle. He had a deep resiliency about him, too, whether it was his aura, wisdom, or some deep inner strength, I wasn’t sure. I remembered that I had once seen him do a form of magic, but had never questioned him about it. And Claire had called him a Shaman. A Medicine Man. “What are you, Starlight? Can you do magic?”
He smiled crookedly, unsure which question to answer or if answering a naked girl tripping on shifter peyote was borrowing trouble. “I don’t know if it’s real, Callie. I’ve seen events that never came true, but also those that have. I’ve also seen things from the past that I have no way of verifying…” He studied me. “What did you see? The past? Future?”
I shrugged helplessly. “I have no idea, but it was terrible.” I felt anger creeping over me. “What the hell, Starlight? I thought this was supposed to be fun?”
He grimaced. “It usually is, but it depends on the user. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone walk away scared or afraid. Some angry, but that was later explained as not being happy about a particular thing they saw – their lover with another bear, for example. Or not pleased about their past or something. Nothing like…” he waved a paw at me.
Then he glanced at Beckett, jerking his snout for me to look. Beckett had a smile on his face, crying softly as he mumbled to himself, eyes still closed. I studied him. Claire was sitting very attentively beside him, watching, waiting, ready to do anything that he may need. She didn’t even seem to notice I was awake, so intent on the detective.
I turned back to Starlight, relieved that he was okay. “What the hell is wrong with me?”
He placed a palm on my thigh and then reached behind him to withdraw a canteen of water. He handed it over and I guzzled it. It was still cold, despite the warmth of the room. I drank all of it, not even considering if it had also been intended for Beckett.
“Nothing is wrong with you, Callie. But unless I know what you saw, I cannot offer any aid.”
I nodded absently, but even if I could have remembered it I was pretty much convinced I didn’t want to share details about it with Starlight. Not because I didn’t trust him, but because I didn’t want to give him a front row seat to my inner psyche.
“Have you always spoken Latin?” he asked in a low tone, not wanting to disturb Beckett.
I shot a look at him, ready to shake my head, but then I remembered that I’d had a few out-of-body experiences where I had done just that. “A little,” I admitted. “But I can’t consciously do it. A few times I’ve muttered things in my sleep or dreams that people have asked me about, but I don’t remember it.”
He tapped a long claw against his snout, considering.
“You didn’t answer my question. What are you?”
He let out a resigned sigh. “I was a wizard, once. A long, long time ago. I chose this life when it became more… bearable than my own.” Then he must have heard his words, because he chuckled. “Bearable. Wow.” He shook his head, looking embarrassed. “I experienced some things in my later years that made me lose faith in the Academy, so I found a witch to help me become a bear. I didn’t fancy having one attack me, hoping for the change to take me as I bled out in the middle of the woods. It was either let the witch try to do it or kill myself. Luckily, she was able to do it. In a fit of cosmic irony, I found that I still retained some of my magic, but that I couldn’t ever shift back to my human form. I was a wizard bear. Not really a shifter, and not really a wizard. But both at the same time.”
My mouth was hanging open. “You’re not really a shifter, then?”
“Who knows these things? I sure as hell don’t. I went through the same problems, but I can’t hop back and forth like they do. I ran into Armor not long after and have stuck with him since. In search of inner peace, we traveled the world looking for totems. Something to ground us in reality, neither of us happy with the first life we had been given, and wanting to make this one better. Armor did this by seeking out those like us, the lepers, the outcasts, those who wanted a new life. I focused on old lore, merging my knowledge of magic with any lore on bears I could get my hands on. At some point, they named me Shaman. Medicine Man. Crock of shit, if you ask me,” he grunted.
I laughed in surprise. “In the land of the blind, the one-eyed man is king.”
He grunted. “I am no king, Callie. Not even close.”
“What’s your name? Who were you? How long—”
He held up a paw. “I left it behind for a reason, Callie. Respect it, please.” There wasn’t a hint of kindness in his eyes, so I nodded obediently.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t think about that,” I admitted sheepishly. “I didn’t mean any disrespect. I just don’t know much about the Academy. Nate doesn’t seem to like them either…”
Starlight grunted. “I should like to meet this Nate Temple someday…” he said, eyes distant.
I shrugged. “I can arrange that.”
“Please.” He turned to Claire, smiling softly. I followed his gaze
, smiling at my best friend.
“Do you really think she can become a Shaman? She was never a wizard.”
Starlight didn’t immediately respond. “Being a Shaman is not being a wizard. It is a gift granted only to a few bears that I’ve ever heard of. But there is something different about her…”
“She’s special…” I agreed, smiling at her.
Beckett’s eyes shot open. “Goddamn!” he whispered. “That was amazing.”
I scowled for good measure, but hid it when he looked at me. His eyes latched onto my nakedness and widened. He averted his gaze to turn to Claire, but she was naked and even closer. She didn’t seem to notice the panic in his eyes, so focused on her role as spirit guide. She leaned over him and gripped his shoulders, whispering to him in soft tones I couldn’t make out. He looked down at himself and saw that he was also naked, and very much excited about his current situation, making his face blush almost purple now. He slapped his hands over his goods, marginally relieved, and finally looked back to me. Well, his eyes were about a foot above my head, as if not wanting to risk his peripheral vision catching a peek at my naked flesh.
“Wasn’t that great, Callie?”
I scooped up my clothes with a sigh, but before I could begin tugging them on, Starlight handed me a towel. I mumbled thanks and dried off before getting dressed. I took my time about it, amused at Beckett’s furtive glances when he thought I wasn’t looking.
When I finished, I looked up to find Claire also clothed and escorting Beckett from the hut with one arm over his shoulder, speaking softly to him about his… well, his trip, I guessed.
I nodded to Starlight. “Thank you…” I whispered, not sure if I meant it. “I think Beckett and I need to leave.” He sighed, placing a paw on my shoulder for comfort. I had planned on leaving tomorrow, but the thought of spending one more day here terrified me. I needed to see Roland. Now. Maybe he could help me remember what had scared me so badly.
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