The In-Between

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The In-Between Page 3

by Gwen Rivers


  “Mom, relax.” Addison had the soul of a healer, always ready to soothe and make those around her more at ease. “He’ll be here.”

  The One True Queen of the Unseelie Court wore a long bloodred gown, though he knew, much like her mother, Addison Sophia preferred comfort to style. Her dress alone told him how official the function was meant to be.

  Nic paused and then reached for her daughter’s face. “I’m sorry, baby. It just scares me to have you on this side too long. You could miss so much time without realizing it. Every minute could be a year.”

  Addison gripped her mother’s hand. “I talked to Skathi. She’s holding the timeline on both sides of the Veil stable.”

  “What did she ask for in return?” Nic’s icy blue eyes narrowed.

  Addison shifted under that dark look and let go of her mother’s hand. “She wants to help.”

  “No.”

  “Mom—”

  Nic held up a hand. “Don’t start asking for favors from the gods, Addison. They’ll see it as a weakness. It’s like chumming the water for sharks. You’ll be lucky to come out intact.”

  Addison stood up a little straighter, gathering her formidable power around her like a cloak. “I know, Mom. I’m not an idiot.”

  Nic’s worried expression softened a bit. “I never thought you were. But you don’t know what these beings are like. I’ve had firsthand…experience with them.”

  North wished he could snort. Experience was putting it mildly. Nic had essentially told Freya that if she messed with her family again, the goddess would end up sleeping with the fishes.

  The ghosts prowling through the courtyard were proof enough that Underhill could make it happen.

  A knock sounded on the heavy oak door. Addison waved her hand, using her magic to undo the lock.

  Aiden strode in, his expression grim.

  “What’s wrong” Nic practically lept on him.

  The wolf’s green gaze slid from his mate to his pup. “Some of the fae have run from the gate.”

  The castle shook. Books tumbled from shelves, glasses rattled on a silver tray and Addison’s laptop crashed to the floor.

  North rushed inside and tried to wrap himself around Nic’s delicate form. But his barrier held others out. It wouldn’t keep her magic in.

  “Mom, chill out.” Addison’s bright green eyes, the same hue as Aiden’s, widened in alarm.

  “Love, listen to me,” Aiden stepped forward, hands outstretched. North didn’t budge and the wolf’s palms rested on the solid invisible barrier he’d created. The wolf snarled softly. North wished he could snarl back as he encircled his queen more closely.

  “Nic, we’ll find them. I have the wolves out hunting them down. We will find them.”

  Nic closed her eyes. She took a deep breath and then another. “They are trying to force my hand. Trying to make us delay releasing the ones who are trapped. I won’t relent.”

  “They know,” Addison held on to the mantle to keep from falling on her face. “Mom, we won’t delay.”

  “Nic, it’s okay. Everything will go as planned,” Aiden said. “I swear it, Lady Underhill.”

  The shaking abruptly stopped.

  “No more oaths,” Nic’s fury shifted to Aiden, proving that though she might be mated to a werewolf, she could hold her own. “Damn it, Aiden. No vows or oaths.”

  “As my lady commands.” He bowed. The gesture might have been teasing but North knew Aiden meant it as a declaration of respect and service.

  “That temper is going to get us all killed,” a melodic voice floated in through the doorway.

  Nahini and behind her stood Freya, with the Valkyrie spirit hovering in the corridor beyond.

  Nic whirled and as she stepped forward, North released her. It was one thing to keep others out but he would never intentionally trap his queen.

  The women embraced in a three-way hug. They’d been friends for centuries, since Nicneven’s last life. True friendship never died.

  North left them to their reunion. Though Aiden had been the one to make the vow, perhaps there was something he could do to help.

  “How many?” Liam barked the moment he stepped through the doorway to the in-between.

  “A dozen, maybe more from this camp,” Autumn fell into step beside him. “Owen is running them down.”

  “Alone?” Liam frowned.

  “He ordered me not to leave this lot unsupervised.” Autumn didn’t sound happy about the fact. Owen outranked her in dominance and only Gray and Liam could overturn the order, which the wolf knew before he had given it.

  North understood the compulsion. He had observed how Owen looked at Autumn. Though it was foolish. Until the ceremony was over tonight, the fae in Underhill were far more dangerous than the werewolves, who though physically powerful, had no inborn defense against magic. Coupled with the order that the wolves were supposed to protect the fae and would be doing their best not to hurt the ones who had run away even as the fae fought for their freedom and retaining their element and life magic.

  “Go after him,” Liam barked. “No matter what he orders, use your best judgment.”

  Werewolf magic was different than elemental magic. It was more in line with the giant’s magic of spellcasting and compulsion. North couldn’t sense its use but he saw the way Liam could wield it over his wolves, getting them to obey even if they disagreed. It was part physical, part psychological. The less dominant in the pack wanted to please the more dominant wolves. The structure created the kind of order they all craved.

  Autumn took off in a sprint, stripping out of her clothes as she ran. She paused long enough for the transformation to wash through her. It was a horrible painful-looking process of twisting limbs and breaking bones which then reformed. It took several minutes and even the most seasoned werewolf needed time to recover. Autumn, stretched, shook, and then continued her mad dash across the blasted plane.

  North went with her. He didn’t know what sort of fae had run, if it was one of the beings who could harness the power of air currents and use him against the wolves but he would act as a shield for Autumn and Owen if he could.

  Other spirits paused in their trek toward the Crystal Palace. He sensed their curiosity but was glad when none of them followed. The ceremony was due to start soon and the less power the fae could wield, the better.

  Autumn’s paws hardly made a sound as she ran for the dead forest. What had once been a lush green hillside was nothing but a snarl of vines that craved blood. The fae would have known better than to enter the deadwood, but would Owen if he scented his quarry on the other side?

  Probably not. The werewolves weren’t familiar with the rules of Underhill. The thorns on the vines in the deadwood were laced with a terrible toxin. If pricked, the victim would fall into a coma-like sleep while blood roots from the trees buried themselves beneath the skin and drank their fill of blood until the unfortunate victim was naught but a pile of dry, brittle bones. North swept down in front of the wolf and parted the vines, pushing them aside to make a clear path for the she-wolf. Some struck out like vipers from behind her but Autumn was nimble and dodged them all.

  They emerged from the wood just as a howl rent the still of the late afternoon. Autumn threw back her head in an answering howl and charged forward. Over the first in a series of rolling hills. Seeing that her path was clear, North raced ahead.

  If he still had a heart, it would have been pounding as he sailed up and up and up into the sky and saw another doorway, this one a perfect circle carved in a massive tree. The leaves on the tree were a brilliant silver but they paled in comparison to the pulsing white light spilling out from another in-between.

  Why had the fae run from the designated in-between that would take them to the safety of the PR only to come to this one? Where did it lead?

  It was then that North realized the fae weren’t crossing through the doorway to Midgard. They were coming back through it from the other side.

  And they were arme
d.

  Owen howled again and this time North spied him. From his position down the hill he couldn’t see the sheer number of fae waiting for him on the other side of the rise. North rushed down and created a barrier in front of the charging wolf.

  Owen hit the invisible barrier like a battering ram. North held firm. He was of this world, and the werewolf though brave, didn’t know what he was facing.

  Because North had seen that the fae crossing through the tree’s in-between weren’t only armed with magic.

  Mortal weapons could kill an immortal.

  “Come shield us,” a voice whispered. It wasn’t one North recognized, but he felt the pulse to obey.

  Unseelie air casters. Those with the power to control the winds. The only being who held more sway was The One True Queen herself. He battled the compulsion to obey, to protect. He knew the fae who beckoned him was on the wrong side. They were rogues who disobeyed the royals, disobeyed Underhill.

  He felt others like him heed their call. Coming to act as barriers for the fae to keep the werewolves out.

  Autumn crested the first rise, her white wolf’s fur like a spot of purity against the desolate plane.

  “Come to me,” the air caster said again. The command buried itself into him like a meat hook, shredding him as it pulled him away.

  North fought, struggled with everything he had ever been, ever dreamed of being. Owen rammed against the barrier he provided again. And again. Stubborn wolf, charging to his death.

  “Come,” the voice was low. Irresistible.

  Against his will, his barrier disbanded. Frustration, the same feeling as when those men broke into his home and violated his mother. Helpless to do anything but watch. He couldn’t save them.

  Owen charged, just as Autumn appeared atop the second rise.

  And then another voice, one that rang with command. “Join me.”

  Addison. Though she was back at the Crystal Palace, North heard her as though she were right beside him. She called shadow and air, flame and ember, she who had been born of something more than the fae but had been chosen as their queen, stripped the rogue band of their power.

  North gave in to the stronger pull and felt the other guardians do so as well. But why was Addison calling them away from the battle instead of ordering them to protect the wolves?

  Two other calls, one a deep masculine base, the other younger, almost innocent. The Seelie kings, summoning their own guardians. The sun shone over the hilltop, bathing the land in shadow just as Autumn appeared on the third rise. Sunset.

  The time had come at last.

  North looked back as the fae, stripped of their elemental magics, scattered before the two charging werewolves, some back through the portal, others out over the land. A few set off their mortal weapons. Bullets ripped out into the night. And then one reached for a grenade and lob it at the in-between.

  The last thing he saw was a fireball that engulfed the tree, the fae.

  And Owen.

  Underhill, for Nic had become Underhill in all her official capacity for this ceremony, stood with her arms raised high, her midnight gown still even amidst the shifting air currents. Her blonde hair was loose, her feet bare. She spoke an ancient language, the one of runes. Of unbinding.

  There were four crystal goblets before her. And beside each one lay a silver athame, a ceremonial knife.

  To her left stood Addison Sophia in her red gown. To her right, Taj and Jedda, the two Seelie kings. Aiden, Liam and the Wild Hunt stood witness.

  As her words died, Underhill lowered her hands and looked to her daughter. Addison lifted her chin and faced the guardians who had come to her call.

  “This has never been attempted before. We don’t know what will become of you after this is over,” Addison said to the guardians. “I need a volunteer.”

  North surged forward, blowing the fae’s hair and clothing in an icy gust. He had to tell them about the fae with the weapons, about Owen and Autumn. If there was even a chance he could help, he had to take it.

  Nic’s lips twitched. “How did I know it would be you, my brave friend?”

  Hurry, North wanted to beg them.

  Addison looked to her mother and then stepped forward and picked up the athame. “With our blood you were bound and with our blood, you are freed.”

  Taj moved forward and repeated the words. Then Jedda.

  As one, all three fae royals sliced into their chests and removed their own beating hearts. The source of their magic. Addison squeezed hers over the first chalice until a single drop of blood plinked down into the cup. Then Taj and then Jedda.

  Underhill called on her runes and the blood in the chalice turned to a mist and then rose up in a pink cloud. It surrounded North, engulfed him, permeated his entire being.

  “Do you release this servant of your own free will?” Underhill asked.

  “We do.” Addison, Taj and Jedda said.

  A blinding light and then the pain. Just like when he had taken Pan’s deal. A thousand red-hot knives stabbing into him. A thousand holes where his blood leaked out emptying him of all he was.

  North’s ever-present consciousness faded to a pinprick of focus. He fixated on Nic, her blue eyes wide. He had to tell her about the wolves and the fae with the weapons.

  But it was too late.

  His first thought when his eyelids fluttered up was that it had all been a dream. One long, horrific, unending dream. Then he spied a worried face with ice blue eyes.

  “My queen,” he breathed and reached for her hair.

  Reached, but couldn’t touch. His hand passed right through it. He frowned. His hand looked solid, but wasn’t capable of touch?

  But Nic was looking at him. Into his eyes, searing his soul.

  “What’s your name?” she asked.

  “North.” The word rolled off his tongue with the accent of his childhood.

  Her deadly lips turned up in a genuine smile. “Welcome to freedom, North.”

  He scrambled to his feet. Looked around. Aiden and Liam stared at him. The Alpha had his hands folded over his chest, a smug smile in place. It was an odd sensation, knowing they could see him. So many years he had spent observing them and now they finally looked back.

  “What am I now?” He looked down at his body. It wasn’t the wasted one he recalled but neither was it the one of his dreams. He was tall, at least as tall as Liam and Aiden, though not so broad.

  “We’re not sure,” Nic admitted. “Do you feel different?”

  It came back to him in a flood, what it was he had to say. “Owen’s hurt. Autumn may be too.”

  Liam strode forward. “How do you know this?”

  “I was there. The fae had mortal weapons and were crossing through another in-between. They wanted to stop this.” He gestured down his body.

  The ground shook and all eyes went to Nic.

  “Where?” Underhill asked, her tone deadly.

  North pointed in the direction. “Past the deadwood, five rises beyond the perimeter of the forest.”

  “Aiden,” Nic snarled.

  “We’re on it.” Aiden grasped Liam’s arm and shifted the two to embers so they could float up over the trees.

  “They’ll move faster if you send a gale with them,” North told Addison.

  She hesitated, then shook her head. “No, I’m not going to use these souls anymore. What sort of an example would it be if the queen can’t go without magic?”

  “There are lives on the line, Kotik.”

  “I want to, but I can’t.” She shook her head, her mind made up.

  North turned and watched the sparks float into the distance. If only he could go with them.

  The instant the thought occurred, he came apart and surged up. He moved faster than he ever had, gathered Aiden and Liam together and pushed them to where the gate had been.

  Autumn was there, still in wolf form, snarling at a group of damaged fae, all of whom lay in a ragged, moaning heap.

  Liam and Aiden r
eassembled and a moment later, North did as well, back into his visible but still transparent form able to speak and be heard, to be seen even if he could not touch or be touched.

  It was an improvement.

  Liam went over to the body of the fallen wolf. “He’s alive, barely. Can you take him back to Addison?”

  “Would it be better to bring her here?” Aiden asked.

  “Too dangerous until we get all of them contained.” Liam chucked a thumb at the fallen fae.

  Aiden looked to North. “Could you help me take Owen back as quickly as you got us here?”

  “Da.”

  Aiden crouched beside the wolf and a moment later their bodies dissolved into sparks. North concentrated on pushing them back in the direction of the Crystal Palace.

  The swept past the turrets to the courtyards where Aiden and the wolf pulled together next to the queen.

  “Thanks for the lift. That is handy, being able to move so fast.” Aiden had come to stand by North while Addison put her healing hands on the wolf. “Can I call on you again?”

  “I am not your personal chauffeur,” North sniffed with all the dignity of a true Russian.

  “Noted.” Aiden’s green eyes took him in and then shifted to Nic. “I always knew you were a male. The way you hung all over her.”

  “My queen is a beautiful woman.” North’s lips twitched and he couldn’t resist baiting the wolf. “From every angle.”

  A low growl came from the male.

  “Calm yourself, volk. My pleasures have been few and far between.” That sounded far too self-pitying so he added, “I plan to make up for lost time. Know any easy goddesses?”

  Aiden snorted. “They would tear you apart.”

  North’s lips curved up as he stared down at his untouchable body. “It would be fun to watch them try.”

  In spite of the interruption, the ceremony went on. The majority of the guardians did not manifest into physical form.

  “Where are they?” North asked Aiden.

  “The Veil, probably.” The werewolf shrugged.

  “They aren’t as determined as you were.” Nic came up to stand with him and Aiden. “You wanted so badly to stay. You didn’t take the easy path.”

 

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