Authors: Shawntelle Madison
Hearing him say the word ‘parents’ made me sigh. Thorn lost his mom when we were kids.
“Do you miss her?” I searched his eyes when he looked away. We’ve never talked about his mom at length. Or the fact she died after a massive snowstorm swept over the northeast a long time ago. He usually clammed up when the topic came up. Maybe one of the reasons was that at the time he was too young to search for her—to use his tracking skills to find her like he found me.
“I think about her all the time,” he replied. “Every day.”
“I’ve seen the picture you carry in your wallet of you and her. She’s beautiful.” Saying she was beautiful was an understatement. The photo had frayed edges and a water stain or two, but her eyes radiated life. She had a toddler on her lap and the sunset behind them cast a purplish-red glow on their shoulders.
Beside me Thorn only nodded, his jaw twitching. His stomach muscles clenched and I sensed the unease growing in him.
“We don’t have to talk about her. I’m sorry,” I whispered. I shouldn’t have brought up his mom until he was ready.
“No. It’s all right.” He sighed. “It’s just that the emptiness never goes away. I push it down so deep, but every couple of years when I believe I’ve gotten over her death I find out I’m not
even
close.”
We sat in silence for a bit, my thoughts circling around the ceiling fan. All this time my mate had been suffering when I believed hardly anything got under his skin.
I snuggled closer to him, wrapping my leg around his. Why couldn’t I take his suffering away like he did mine? For once I wished I knew how to use my
babushka’s
calming spell on him. What I did have to offer in reality was just as good: The love of my family. “You have more than one mom now. A grandma, too. My mom isn’t perfect,” I chuckled. “She’s loud and stubborn like her daughter, but she’s willing to move heaven and earth to protect her own.”
I sensed the grin on his face. “I appreciate the offer. They are rather loud, but I don’t mind. Thank you, sweetheart.”
Our sad moment ended with a long kiss that set my soul at ease.
Somehow, Thorn fell asleep not long after our conversation.
I, on the other hand, didn’t sleep the whole night. After such a long trip, I should’ve been exhausted, but I refused to lose the moment. I wanted every second and every sense locked in my memory: his smell, the warmth of his skin, the feel of the rise and fall of his chest against my arm.
My beloved would live forever in me if I
failed
.
At dawn, I got dressed. When I packed what I needed, I gently nudged his shoulder.
He smiled at me with sleepy eyes. “Why you up so early?”
Then he noticed my backpack and tears in my eyes. His mouth formed a hard line. “What are you doing?”
“What must be done. You’re going to stay here until I get back—”
“Nat, damn it—”
I kissed his right hand. His left locked around my thigh. “I’m going to find a way to get those wizards out, Thorn.”
“I told you not to do foolish things without me.”
“Too late for that.”
His grip on my leg tightened. “Don’t go.”
“You have to admit this is an improvement. I am saying goodbye this time. You have to give me credit for that.”
“I don’t want to say goodbye.” Sadness touched his hard features.
I couldn’t stop the tears from falling. What if I were making a mistake? What if I left, and he died here all alone?
Doubts tried to eat away at me, but I shoved them aside.
Screw doubt. Doubt could take a long jump off a short pier.
I kissed his forehead and stood.
Damn this was so hard.
“You’re the love of my life, Thorn Grantham.” I’d said that once before with all my heart, and I meant it now just as much.
“You’re perfect in all the right places,” he said as his voice broke.
“I’ll be back soon,” I promised.
Every step out of that house killed me. A thousand reasons hit me stronger than any panic attack I’d ever had before. The walls of fear tried to close in on me, but I kept walking. The air outside tried to choke me with heat, but I kept walking. The backpack on my back turned into a ton of bricks, but I kept facing forward, not stopping once.
The wind was on my back, the first good thing to happen to me today.
Chapter 15
Touching old magic beyond a spell to calm my nerves was one thing, but really using werewolf magic to do the things wizards and warlocks were capable of was another.
Today seemed like a good day to try out my powers, no? I’d set fire to a kitchen, but that was a while ago when I didn’t have Thorn weighing heavy on my mind like I did now.
There was no choice but to get it right the first time.
Next test: find the nearest jump point to take me to St. Petersburg. Months ago, I’d made my first jump with Nick from Jersey to Brooklyn. It had been quite the experience, pretty much comparable to getting teleported with Wilhelm. One minute, I was in a field with Nick, and in the next, I was in a basement in Brooklyn.
Even after several months, the jump from that large rock in the middle of that field was still vivid in my mind. We tapped or, I should say, Nick tapped into the strange sensations coming from the stone. Tamara had prepared me for this, and I didn’t even know it until now. I chanted and pressed my hand to the ground and waited for the feeling Tamara told me would be there.
I got nothing.
Yep, that’s dirt and it’s as disgusting as I imagined.
Other than that initial feeling, I drop-kicked what I usually worried about into a steel trap and tried to focus on the task at hand.
Listen this time,
Tamara would tell me.
Say the words and
believe
them ‘cause you don’t have a choice in the matter.
I waited and waited.
It will come
, I reminded myself. I didn’t dare move.
And that was the key.
Something tugged at my fingertips from the east. I wasn’t sure about the mileage or whether I’d have to break into a building to get to the jump point, but I’d sure as hell do anything necessary.
The march east was long, taking me back into Russia. Walking all alone, with no cellphone for direction, felt strange, but I kept going, one foot in front of the other. By the time the sun began to set, the vibrations turned into a rough yank along my arm.
I was close. The forest at twilight cast too many unfamiliar shadows. The noises here weren’t familiar.
Caw caw.
The chorus from a flock of crows joined the crickets.
A branch snapped behind me, but I didn’t turn around. My hand touched the goblin blade on my hip for reassurance. A hum resonated from the blade’s hilt and vibrated in my palm. With the wind blowing into my face, I didn’t have the advantage of being downwind. I kept walking. Was my mate foolish enough to follow me or had I stirred up another kind of trouble?
My steps quickened as the rumble of broken brush kept following me. I reached for the nearest pine tree, its pungent scent growing stronger as I pressed my body against it.
The warning signal from my blade bounced off my side like a painful slap. The sensation was jarring to say the least. The sounds of water falling along rocks sounded louder. My stride turned into a full-out run. The wolf in me urged me to run faster. Footsteps came from the far right now, too.
I leapt over a rock formation and landed with a roll on the other side. The forest opened into a clearing, exposing a cloudless sky and a peppering of bright stars. Instead of taking in the beautiful sight, I made a run for it toward what called to me, a single pine tree in the middle of the field. The need to look behind me was strong, but I ignored it. Only a damn fool would check behind them to see what was about to tackle them and potentially eat them for lunch.
By the time I sprinted to the middle of the field, my pursuers had to be no more than ten feet or so behind me. My thoughts bounced around my head, but one in particular rang true: whatever you plan to do, you better make it fast.
As I approached the tree, it bounced up and down in my vision as I ran. I extended my hand reaching and hoping that by the time I collided with it, I would figure out whatever mystery Nick had known and I would teleport.
The vibrations increased with each step. I was almost there. The pine filled my nostrils. In one inhale, I hit the tree hard. But instead of bouncing backward, which the laws of physics dictate should happen to geniuses who run into trees, I continued forward, every limb twitching as something pulsed through me. My tongue rattled around my mouth as something built quickly in my belly and spread outwards.
I was flung from one place to another and landed with a hard thud on the ground. Twilight became day and the sand on my hands—and in my mouth—told me I’d gone a lot farther than I intended.
The open sky as far as my sharp eyes could see was a vivid blue with flecks of white clouds. No more than ten feet or so from me, waves rolled onto a white-sand beach. Somehow, I jumped from a dense forest to a single palm tree sitting near the shore. In the distance, I spotted tropical vegetation waving with the breeze.
It was all so refreshingly beautiful.
I even laughed a bit. Hadn’t I told Thorn I wanted to visit the beach? Maybe even the Virgin Islands? Not like this, though.
The wind whipped my hair about as I managed to stand. Sand clung to my clothes, but I reminded myself I was alive. I had teleported. I’d done something I’d only seen spellcasters do.
I turned and glanced at the tree where I’d come from. Not a single thing grew near the beautiful palm. Only the seashells kept the tree company. My watch said it was nine p.m. on the dot, yet it had to be at least midday. Quite a jump forward in time.
The sounds of movement pricked my senses along the tropical tree line. I darted to what little cover I had and pressed my back against the rough, still vibrating surface of the tree.
One voice whispered, then another responded.
“Is someone there?” one man asked. They spoke Russian, but the words were older in origin—like Old English. Once in a while, Grandma slid into speaking Old Church Slavic, her mother tongue and a precursor to the modern Russian language. I knew enough bits and pieces to understand what they said.
“I can smell the female.” The second voice came from farther down the beach.
My mouth opened and snapped shut. What could I even say? I peeked around the tree and didn’t see anyone, but I could hear them. Branches rustled from one spot and then another.
The wind shifted and I sensed someone behind me. So they played the diversion game, eh? I palmed the goblin blade, which had been silent on my hip. Why hadn’t it changed to a new form? By now, its Spiderman-like warning system had become rather handy.
I looked up to face my attacker—only to discover I should’ve looked down. An amber-haired, burly man, who, by far, wasn’t as tall as my massive father, pointed a spear in my direction and stared me down.
His brown-eyed gaze flicked to my weapon. “That maiden’s blade wouldn’t even open one of these hairy fruits on the beach,” he said in Old Russian.
The wind brought his scent to me and fed information without words: he was a werewolf, he was about my age, and his health was good.
His clothes screamed that he was either a historical period reenactor or I’d taken a very wrong turn during my jump. Something about the way his long-sleeved, white shirt reached his knees and the fitting of his red trousers made me pause.
“Good day to you,” was all I managed.
He glanced at the tree, and then took in my jacket, jeans, and backpack. “What kind of old magic is this?”
“I-I was in one place and now I’m here,” I stammered.
Three other werewolves cautiously approached us from down the beach.
“That’s what happened to us, but how as a werewolf did you do it? My friends and I have been trapped here for over five thousand moons.”
Holy shit.
I did the rough mental math: around 400 years. Dread shot into my gut. Was I trapped here, too?
“Blazh, it wasn’t an accident,” the tallest one claimed. He marched right up to us and his violet eyes formed slits at the man he called Blazh. “You were trying to send us to Kyjev before we were ready.”
Kyjev was an older name for Kiev, the capital of the Ukraine. That definitely dated them.
Blazh made a rude snort. “You and your brother always drag your feet—”
“Don’t bring Radomir into this again,” the tall man snapped. He pushed a man with similar features back. That must’ve been his brother Radomir.
“Oh, shut your mouth, Dragomir! We were this close to finding a new master, but you always hold us back!” Blazh said.
“Hold us back?” Dragomir growled and closed in on Blazh. “We’ve been
held
back for endless moons on this forsaken sand-covered oven thanks to you!”
They continued to argue, and I glanced to the fourth man, who gave a half-shrug as if to apologize. His narrow black eyes danced with amusement. While they went on, he bowed to me.
“Greetings, lady. I’m Chestibor. These are my arguing companions.” He gave their names and pointed to them as Dragomir shoved Blazh to the ground. Fists flew as the two men swore. Radomir could do little to keep them apart.
Chestibor just stood there.
“Are you going to do anything?” I asked him.
“I used to. Now I let them release their anger that way.” He led me away a bit. “Are you an old magic master? We’ve seen countless wizards and warlocks arrive, but they left soon after.” He appeared so hopeful. Was I the first werewolf to come?
“A master? Not at all. I’m a
beginner
.” I walked over to the tree and touched it. The vibrations I felt before weren’t as strong. “Why can’t you just leave like everyone else?”
“We’ve tried countless times. It’s past the point in the day when the sun is in the middle of the sky. We even made a sundial, but it’s not that accurate. We only see others show up at that time.”
“Noon,” I murmured. “So it only works then?”
He nodded.
The warm sun made me uncomfortable, so I shrugged off my jacket and pulled my hair into a ponytail.