A quarter-mile from Cove Springs, Aven felt something. Like a glitch in Dakota’s vibe, some kind of interference, but it made the signal coming from her stronger instead of weaker.
He dropped low and circled around. Dakota wasn’t following him anymore. She had veered off on a trail leading east, but even as he watched she turned north, back the way they’d come.
Aven tuned more closely into his connection with her. He didn’t get back the confusion or frustration he expected. The only word to describe the feeling was... bloodlust? Dakota wanted to kill someone, that was certain.
Aven swooped lower as Dakota turned east again and opened the throttle on the ATV. She sped down a trail so covered with canopy that Aven couldn’t break in, couldn’t find a way down to catch her eye, find out what was going on. The light through the trees shone down on her, making her appear to almost glow in the glimpses Aven caught.
Glow? Aven looked at his own wing, to see if he was lit up, too. The full-body glow happened sometimes, with shifters. Usually only heartbound ones, though. The sunlight shining down on him made it impossible to tell.
Could she be following her Instinct? Aven had no way of knowing the answer. All he could do was follow her.
A few minutes later Aven felt Dakota’s bloodlust calm, but she didn’t slow the ATV. She pushed it up a steep trail. Aven flew higher to see what she was heading for.
To his surprise, they were only a couple hundred yards from the sunflower meadow of Belief Coven. The sheer side of Lightning Rock faced him, the sun reflecting off the multitude of colors that branched through the stone face.
Aven pulled ahead and flew to the end of the path, shifting as he landed. Dakota pulled up beside him. Confusion radiated off her. She glanced at Aven, her mouth slightly open, brown eyes big as she looked away to gaze around the field of nodding flowers.
“What happened? Why’d you peel off?” he asked.
Dakota shook her head softly. “I don’t even know, I just… I couldn’t stop myself. First I thought I was heading into a fight, but...” She shook her head again, like she was trying to dislodge something in it. “I felt like I used to as a cop, headed into an active shooter scene, ready for anything. Kill or be killed. The feeling overtook me. When it faded … I made the next turn and I was here.”
Aven shook his head. “We have to get to Cove Springs. Can you ride?”
But Dakota didn’t even seem to hear him. She walked past Aven, toward the sunflowers, like she was in a trance.
Aven made to follow Dakota, to pull her back and find out what was going on in that head of hers. But the second her foot crossed the border into the field, the moment her arms brushed against the crowded stalks of the first sunflowers, everything changed.
Aven reached Dakota’s side just as a wide light shone from the face of Lightning Rock, growing brighter and brighter until Aven and Dakota had to shield their eyes. It radiated out of the mountain, as if there was a million-watt bulb behind the rainbow of stone. All the colors there could ever be in the world hovered in mid-air, little dancing particles of light, like multicolored fireflies.
It reminded Aven of the end of Breath Coven’s shifter ceremony a couple of weeks ago, only then the dots of light had all been green. Now, as Aven watched, they all became shades of blue. Navy, turquoise, cobalt, sapphire, everything from powder blue to midnight filled the air over the clearing where they’d picnicked two days ago.
Dakota started forward, pushing through the sunflowers as she went. Aven joined her, his eyes locked on the incredible sight taking shape right in front of them.
The blue sparkles flexed and formed themselves into rectangles, some as long as a semi-trailer but wider, some only about the size of a storage cube. They got denser with every second, throbbing like a heartbeat, arranging themselves so that some of the rectangles sat on top of or beside others, while some slipped inside, absorbed into the structure.
It was a house. They were making a coven. At least that’s what it looked like to Aven. A massive building, as big as Resperanza, but with a completely different look from the classic Spanish hacienda that Breath Coven occupied.
The sparks of light throbbed again and Aven watched the structure change. The walls of energy became white marble, heavy and solid, surrounding floor-to-ceiling windows that faced the field of sunflowers.
“Holy cats,” Dakota breathed beside him, her pace slowing. “What is that?”
Aven smiled and grabbed her hand, pulled her back up to speed. “Belief Coven.” He’d known it was coming, and he thought he knew why. Something to do with the two of them. Covenbound, had to be. They belonged here, both of them.
They ran, her first, him following.
They arrived at a patio Aven hadn’t been able to see from the field. It was made of polished blue marble and stretched away from the house for twenty feet in a large semi-circle, the only curve on the whole exterior. It looked like a pool of water leading to the front door. Blue marble steps ringed the entire edge of the semicircle, giving it a waterfall effect.
Dakota whistled from beside him. “I could be talked into this.”
They opened the door and a rush of fresh air greeted Aven’s nose. Not just mountain fresh, pleasant and cool, but… new. New air, that had never been breathed before.
Hanging on the wall across from the door was a sign made of chiseled stone. Dakota read it aloud. “‘Credence, Stone of Truth. Rest your Belief on me and it shall never crumble.’ I like it. Do they all come with inspirational quotes?”
“Credence must be her name,” Aven said, roaming deeper into the house, the feeling of magic settling deeper into his bones with every step.
History, and he’d been there to see it. He savored it for just a moment, before he got back to business. Jameson had to know, right now. Aven pulled out his phone to send a text, but there was no reception.
Dakota stepped over a threshold and gasped at the enormous fireplace with a hearth of hand-laid stone, stretching all the way up to the second-floor balcony across the back of the room big enough to be a grand hotel lobby.
Aven turned in a circle, taking it all in. “I bet we have rooms,” he said and took off back the way they had come.
He hit doors and pulled the first open. “Pantry,” he reported. Next door. Stairs. Aven flipped the switch on the wall, expecting lights to come on, but nothing happened. Weird.
He heard a jingle behind him. Dakota tapped him on the shoulder. “Here. J’s keys.” Aven took the keychain and saw the little flashlight attached to the ring. He pressed the button to turn it on. Surprisingly strong light flowed from the diminutive device.
They started down the stairs and found much the same sort of setup that Resperanza had: a large recreation-style room on one side of the stairs, with an oversized flat-screen television, plenty of seating, and a bar, and on the other side a hallway with only two doors. One stood slightly open. In he went. He tried the light switch, but this one didn’t work, either. Could a coven blow a fuse? Maybe it had to boot up or something? It didn’t matter. This was his room. He swept the flashlight beam around.
Far from the rustic furniture of the cabin with which he made do, this room held the same minimalist, light-wood furniture as he’d seen upstairs. Bed frame, bookshelf, dresser, all with clean lines and plain faces, sharp corners that pleased Aven’s raptor senses.
On the bookshelf were some of his most prized possessions. A belt buckle he’d made when he was a Boy Scout, an arrowhead he’d found on a hike as a teen. The copy of The Odyssey that Cage had given to Aven before their last op, even though Aven didn’t even like poetry. But that raptor had always given away his favorite books to the people in his life.
“What’s this?” Dakota’s curious voice made Aven turn. He shone the flashlight on the wall, on the shadow box of clear glass, a bed of blue velvet behind it. Nestled in the velvet were four medals. Aven swallowed. He hadn’t seen those damn things in a year and a half.
He’d received a
few commendations in his career. They’d felt good, up until the last one.
That one, the higher-ups had bestowed for his “meritorious performance” at the bad op where, Aven had believed, he’d gotten his best friend wounded and one of his rescues killed. After that Aven had put all his medals in a box, and the box under his bed.
“That is ancient history,” Aven muttered. Or at least he’d thought so. Aven took Dakota’s hand and pulled her toward the hall. “Let’s check your room out.”
They burst across the hall and Aven grabbed the other door’s knob, but it wouldn’t turn.
Dakota stepped around him. “Let me try.” It didn’t budge for her, either.
Locked, huh? Credence was about to learn a little something. Aven reached around Dakota and held his first two fingers against the lock. He shifted their tips into the long, strong, hollow quills of feathers, but didn’t fletch them out, just felt for the tumblers of the lock and held one open while turning the other.
But instead of the give of moving metal, Aven felt a pinch and a snap, and the searing pain of his feather tip being cut off. “Fuck!” He snatched his hand back, shifting feathers to fingers, healing the wound before he even got a look at it.
Aven pressed his fingers to his mouth, gave them a shake. “That must not be your room.”
Dakota nodded hard and turned her face away. Her footsteps were heavy as she walked back up the stairs to the kitchen.
Aven followed, saying nothing.
Chapter 27 - Cat Burglar
Dakota dragged ass a little, already feeling like she didn’t belong. Again.
This place, this coven, was the kind of place she’d always dreamed of living. Shiny stone surfaces and stainless steel accents over pale, Scandinavian-style wood. It could have come off cold, but to Dakota it felt open and airy and inviting. Efficient.
She wandered, separating from Aven, but still exploring. She found a hallway with a door open just a crack. She peeked in.
The scent of the room caught her off-guard. So familiar and yet unique, it took a minute to place it. It was the honey-sweet smell of cat’s-claw acacia trees mixed with the spicy, soft floral of evening primrose. Together they reminded her of warm desert nights when she was a child out stargazing with her grandpa.
Opposite the door was another enormous picture window, as tall as the ten-foot ceilings and twice as long, unbroken by any panes or seams. It faced out over the sunflower meadow in a view that took Dakota’s breath away. She walked straight to it, calling over her shoulder, “Aven!” He had to see this.
He ran up behind her. “Wow. Nice room,” he said.
A bed frame of light wood and clean lines, strikingly similar to Aven’s furniture downstairs, held a bigger-than-king-sized bed with crisp white sheets and an airy white duvet turned back at one corner. A knitted blanket patterned in gray and yellow lay across the foot of the bed, looking so soft that Dakota walked right over and ran her fingers across to see if she was right. The yarn was the softest thing she’d ever touched, like a baby rabbit.
Not her room, no sense making herself jealous. She pulled her fingers away and made to leave, not looking at the overstuffed gray chairs, positioned perfectly to look out the picture window, the dresser with a lone chunk of rock displayed on top, the two doors along one wall that led to the bathroom and closet.
Wait. Dresser. What was on the dresser?
Aven noticed her bottoming out, “Are you okay?” he asked.
She could only stare at the chunk of rock. Her heart bumped hard in her chest. The rock was nothing special to look at, about five inches across and rounded, black, with little bumps all over it. “It’s a meteorite,” she whispered.
Aven saw where she was staring, he stared, too.
Dakota clarified. “It’s my meteorite.” At least, she thought it was. She’d been looking at the thing for years, after all, up until she’d packed it into storage along with the rest of her house over a week ago.
Dakota picked up the meteorite and turned it over. Even though she expected what she saw, it spooked her so badly she had to stop herself from throwing the rock away like some kind of cursed relic. This could not be happening. But there it was, the v-shaped gouge she’d known would be there, even though it defied all the laws of reality.
She held the meteorite out to Aven, her hand shaking slightly as she pointed to the scratch on the rock’s surface. “I did that the day after Christmas, the day after my grandpa gave me this. It’s a Franconian meteorite, from Arizona.” It was the last gift he had given Dakota before the dementia took over and he stopped being aware of holidays at all. She treasured it more than almost any other material possession. So much, she’d left it somewhere safe when she’d set off on her crazy adventure with Maze. So how did it end up here?
Aven looked unconvinced.
“What?” she said, challenging him. She was right. This was her meteorite. Was this her room?
Aven shook his head. He turned around and took in the room. He walked around it, touching things. Dakota followed him, curious what he was looking for. He went to the closet. She fell in next to him, staring inside.
“Those are my clothes,” she breathed. All the clothes she’d brought along, plus others she’d left packed in Arizona. Even a hamper with her dirty laundry, her black bra and panties from last night right on top. Definitely her room.
“Wrong floor,” he muttered.
“So what?” she said, knowing one thing, if this was her room, she was as good as in, no matter if she could shift or not.
Aven only stared at her with hooded eyes she could not read. He seemed to be examining her. Evaluating. Speculating.
She hated it.
“Didn’t we have somewhere to be?” she said, her room forgotten, for now.
Chapter 28 - Cat Fights
Aven flew over Dakota, riding the ATV on the path below him. Cove Springs was just past the next rise. They’d get this done and then go back to Credence. Aven had a suspicion about Dakota, and why her room was on the coven’s main floor, but she didn’t want to hear it so he wasn’t going to tell her till he had to.
He swooped down in front of her and slowed, edging her off the path to a stop and landing fully-dressed, so they could walk in together. By that time only one ranger was left at the site. He was fully human, a newer hire, one Aven knew just well enough that they recognized each other, but Aven did not remember his name.
He waved at Aven and Dakota as they approached, in between crouches. When they got closer Aven could see the ground was strewn with trash, wrappers from first aid supplies, and a Mylar blanket like the kind used to warm trauma victims who were at risk of going into shock.
Aven called out, “Ranger Montreat sent me to get a report.”
The human ranger stood, stuffing debris into a trash bag strapped to his hip. He held his hand out to Dakota as she approached, then seemed to think better of it, wiping it on his slacks as he nodded at her instead. “Nice to meet you, I’m Hank.”
Hank scratched his chin, a perplexed look on his face. “Damnedest thing. I was driving along the northeast vehicle path, doing a routine patrol, when a light started shining over this way. A big light. It’d have to be, right? To see it in the daylight?” Aven felt a wave of uncertainty flow off the human, like he was afraid he’d sound crazy.
If he only knew.
Aven nodded along, giving Hank an understanding look, like this was nothing he hadn’t heard before. Which was true. Cove Springs had lit up once before, in green, back when Jameson had first claimed Cora. The two of them had discovered Resperanza later that same day.
“Anything else?” Aven asked.
Hank gave a nervous laugh. “Hell yeah, there’s more. So I hiked up here to check it out, thinking it must be… well, hell, I don’t know what I was thinking… but what I found was a naked woman, lying right there,” he pointed to a muddy, churned-up spot right next to the water. “Barely conscious. Bruised all down one side.”
&nbs
p; Aven’s thoughts hitched on that. “Bruised?” he asked, as he looked to see where Dakota was. She had moved a little further away, about twenty feet, and was looking at the eerily calm waters of the Springs.
The other ranger nodded. “Just on one side, though. I swear, if I hadn’t been close enough to know better, I’d have thought she got tossed out of a plane, or a helicopter. But there was nothing like that, only the light.”
Aven joked, “Maybe it was a UFO.”
Hank smiled nervously back. “Don’t think it didn’t cross my mind.”
Better that than the truth. The last thing Aven wanted was any human getting curious about The Cause. He’d encourage every other theory he could, keep the questions at bay for as long as possible.
He changed the subject. “Where’s the woman now?”
Hank hooked a thumb behind him. “On her way to the hospital. She started to come around by the time paramedics left with her.”
That was good. As the District Ranger, Jameson would be able to visit her and ask some questions. Who knows, maybe they had another switch on their hands, maybe it had something to do with the new coven house.
He was about to ask Hank the female’s name when two things happened at the same time. First, he felt the same ‘glitch’ in his connection with Dakota as he had before, where it seemed to short out, only this time it didn’t ramp up like it had when he was an eagle. He didn’t have time to check in with her because, to his left, Hank’s whole body twitched, hard, and moved aggressively toward him.
Aven turned instinctively to meet the impending threat, drawing in a sharp breath, and smelled the scent of pine and bitter herbs that told him they were utterly, completely screwed. With a shock that wasn’t really a shock at all, Aven spotted Dakota, running, full tilt into the forest, lit up blue from head-to-toe.
Raptor's Peak: Switch of Fate 4 Page 14