Authors: Mellanie Szereto
That’s a stupid question. Didn’t it just happen?
Telling her had to wait. If he still felt the same in a few days, then he’d find a way to say the words that wouldn’t scare her off.
With his emotions back in some semblance of control, he shook off the anxiety and switched off the bathroom light as he headed back to bed. His eyes took several seconds to adjust to the dimness of filtered light again. Heath still lay sprawled on his back, but Heléna no longer straddled him. Nor was she lying beside him.
“Heléna? Come back to bed, sweetheart.” His call went unanswered, so he walked to the bedroom door to peer into a cozy—and empty—living room. Where could she have gone?
His stomach growled, reminding him he hadn’t eaten a full meal since the evening before the flight. Maybe she’d gone to the kitchen to bring back breakfast. Just the thought of eggs, bacon, and toast made his mouth water and his nose scent a whiff of smells that weren’t there.
And coffee. I’d kill for a cup of coffee.
A loud crack of thunder sent a ripple of electricity through his scalp, and he shuddered, trying to shake off the unsettling sensation.
Heath bolted up from his unconscious position on the mattress. “What the hell?” He scrubbed his hands over his eyes. “Damn, thunderstorms didn’t use to bother me until that scary shit on the island.”
The crackling sound echoed off the walls.
Scrambling out of bed, Heath jogged out of the bedroom and into the living room, aiming for the window. “Something weird’s going on. There’s two feet of snow on the ground, the sky is overcast, and it’s snowing. The conditions are completely wrong for thunder.”
Owen followed him. “Snow? That can’t be right. I may have passed out, but I couldn’t have been out long enough to end up someplace where late December means winter weather.”
“We’re in Ohio according to the white-haired lady from last night.” Heath seemed to study the snowy landscape outside. “I couldn’t sleep, so I went downstairs. We’re in a huge house. A mansion. All of Heléna’s relatives live here.”
“How the hell did we get to Ohio?” He may have asked the question, but Owen wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer. The area between the southeastern Florida coast, Bermuda, and Puerto Rico had been blamed for numerous disappearances because of the Gulf Stream influence in the area. Logic told him their experience proved it, but had other unexplainable forces caused the occurrences? It still didn’t explain how they’d gotten to the Midwest from Hawksbill Cays.
“I don’t know.”
“I guess it doesn’t really matter now. We’re alive, and we’re not stranded anymore.” Pacing to an armchair, Owen almost sat before he realized he hadn’t bothered to put on his pants. “Let’s get dressed and go see if we can find Heléna. I don’t like that she isn’t here with us.”
Heath frowned. “She’s probably pissed off that I fell asleep. I didn’t mean to, but...” He walked into the bedroom behind Owen. “Seems like everything I do makes her mad.”
“Hey, we’re all tired and on edge. More than likely, she went to get food. She didn’t eat much yesterday.” Slipping on the breeches that were part of his pilot’s garb, he searched the floor for his shirt. His gut rumbled again. “Did you have some breakfast when you went downstairs?”
With his fingers working the buttons, Heath headed out the door again. “Yeah. Her family...I don’t think we’re the only ones with a
different
kind of relationship. Her sisters have, um...”
His voice trailed off as he left the room, leaving Owen to follow if he wanted to continue the conversation. “They have what?”
Heath rubbed the back of his neck and grimaced. “Rebeka and Lujza are married...well, maybe not married. I don’t know. Involved with? Yeah, they’re both
involved
with two men.”
“Involved how?” Owen had a pretty good idea what his friend meant, but he wanted to be sure.
With his hand on the doorknob, Heath looked more ready to flee than hunt for Heléna. “Like having kids together. Each sister had two babies, one by each of her men.”
An image of a pregnant Heléna singed Owen’s mind. He’d expected to hear that the both women had a pair of lovers. The word “babies” put an entirely new perspective on Heléna’s admission of wanting him
and
Heath. Too many thoughts buzzed around his head to think straight.
Heath cleared his throat. “And there are more. Not just Rebeka and Lujza.”
“All of them?” The tightness in Owen’s throat made his voice squeak.
“No. I noticed six out of roughly fifteen adult women. Most of the rest were with one man, and two of the older ladies seemed to be alone.” Heath finally turned the knob to leave. “You wouldn’t believe the size of her family. There were close to sixty people at breakfast.”
Regret pricked Owen as he walked with his friend along a wide hallway. He’d once had a big family, but his dad had forced him to choose between them and flying airplanes.
If you were meant to fly, you’d have been born with wings, boy.
Those were the last words his father had spoken to him. His mom had conveyed one final message the day Owen had left home.
Tell him not to come back if he sets foot on that airfield.
Owen took to the sky for his first lesson that day, and he hadn’t returned.
He shook off the past. “Heléna’s family shouldn’t have a problem with her being with both of us then.”
Shuffling down the stairs, neither spoke. As they descended the final flight, three young girls ran past the bottom of the steps toward a chorus of raised voices coming from the left. Owen gestured that direction, but before they reached the bottom step, a horde of men, women, and children crowded into the entryway at the base of the staircase.
The white-haired version of Heléna spread out her arms and spoke. Her sharp tone brought instant silence to the group. “Daughters of age, Protectors, and those with the power of the Elements form a circle around the rest. We must work together.”
Owen froze midstep at her command.
Protectors? Power of the Elements?
He searched for Heléna among the mix of kids and men in the center first. Not finding her, his eyes moved to the outer circle. A handful of elderly males in plain brown robes stood interspersed in the group of females ranging from perhaps twenty or so to seventy or eighty years old. Where was she? His gaze landed on the old woman.
She raised her hand as if to tell him and Heath to wait and then looked to her followers. “The time has come, children. Szabina and Orsolya will be your guides, uniting the strengths of our clans. Ethan and Grant will watch over you as the darkness comes to challenge our connection with the Earth. Be strong. The Fates will lead you along the proper path.”
If he didn’t know better, Owen would’ve thought he’d been transported to a world where good and evil were about to face off in a magical battle of spellcasting powers.
“Come, gentlemen. We must go quickly.” She waved her toward the hall to the right. “Heléna needs you beside her.”
Pushing aside the worry that Heléna was by herself in this barely controlled chaos, he strode down the last four steps to skirt the ring of people. Heath shadowed him as he followed their leader. Her steady gait didn’t slow until they entered a room with shelves lining the walls. Books filled every shelf. A library.
She turned to face him. “Mr. Ulrich and I are already acquainted. I am Romána, matriarch of the Macskas and Heléna’s great grandmother.”
Owen nodded in acknowledgement. “I’m Owen Vance. Where’s Heléna?”
“We will go to her in a moment.” She placed her hands on his and Heath’s arms. “You must accept her for who she is and remind her often that she is deserving of you. She does not believe in her own abilities, but if you trust in her, her confidence will grow and she will become the woman she is destined to be. Her strength will come from you. Above all, you must give your hearts freely to her.”
Romána’s advice struck Owen as promises and vows as much as anything else. Was she offering her blessing on their relationship? “I’ll do my best, ma’am.”
Heath let out a noisy exhale, but the tension was still evident in his stiff posture. “I’ll try.”
She smiled, seemingly satisfied with their answers. “She has chosen well. Now, do not pull away from my touch. We must travel to your mate.”
Colored lights flickered much the same as they had on the beach right before he and Heath had found themselves in Heléna’s bedroom, and Owen fought the rising panic. Caught in the eye of a tornado, winds swirled around them without disturbing the papers and books on the library’s desk or a hair on his head. Heath’s face paled.
The vortex stopped, revealing a dimly lit cavern. Romána no longer stood with them, her slight form ramrod straight as she faced them from across the high-ceilinged chamber. In the center of the room stood a cloaked figure with scraggly shoulder-length hair. Patchy black scars stretched from his sunken cheeks to his neck. Piercing black eyes met Owen’s, and he stumbled backward at the hatred and contempt emanating from them.
A gasp drew both their attention to another presence in the far corner. Clad in a bathrobe, Heléna stepped out of the shadows. “Heath. Owen. What are you doing here? Go back to where you came from. I can’t protect you.”
“You can, and you will, daughter.” Romána’s authoritative voice echoed off the walls.
A grating cackle filled the empty space, and the cloaked man slowly let his eerie gaze shift around the room, seeming to settle on the old woman, then Heléna, and finally back on Owen and Heath. “The girl is weak. She will choose to protect her matriarch. Or
try
. Her powers are no match for mine.” Bolts of lightning shot down from the ceiling to the floor, setting off vibrations and a low rumbling like thunder. “She will fail as she always does.”
Owen reached out to the wall to steady himself as the earth trembled beneath his feet. The smell of ozone burned his nose and throat. Recognition registered, and a mix of rage and fear flooded his veins. “You caused the storms that shorted out the plane’s engine and caused the gash on Heléna’s forehead.”
Another cackling laugh issued from the gnarled old man. “And this time you will all die, except the girl. She’s easily influenced and will make an interesting plaything.”
“You will not harm them, Kazmer.” Romána lifted her clenched fist in the air, chanting in a language Owen couldn’t understand. A bluish wisp wove its way from her hand to Heath and him, encircling them in a misty haze.
As hard as he tried, Owen couldn’t force his feet to carry him to Heléna. The mist seemed to trap him. If the old woman had the power to freeze him, why didn’t she do the same to Kazmer? Why didn’t she send Heléna to safety? What was she waiting for?
Shifting into a cloud of black smoke, the demon hissed at her and swept toward Heléna. He reformed into a mirror image of Heath in front of her. What was this creature that he could change his appearance in the blink of an eye? The real Heath growled, unable to move if Owen’s own seized muscles were any indication.
The imposter ran his fingertips along her jaw, sending more fury and another dose of alarm for Heléna’s safety shooting through Owen. “You are no longer innocent. You allowed them to take your virginity for pleasure. Do you feel dirty and used? Come rule the Black Triad with me. I can make you strong and give you the powers you dream of having.” His shape morphed again, this time his Irish appearance far too familiar. “Which form do you prefer? Ah, but they have both rejected you, haven’t they? I can become whichever you want, whenever I want. You don’t need to choose them. Perhaps I’ll allow them to return to the island instead of wasting my powers on worthless humans.”
Owen struggled to deny Kazmer’s accusation. Only a rough snarl came out in defense.
I didn’t use you, Heléna. There was nothing dirty about what we did.
“Listen to your heart, daughter. It knows the truth.” Romána’s white hair glowed silver, lighting the chamber and revealing the shifter’s real shape. “Only true mates may enter the Macska home while the protection spell secures its boundaries. Do not forsake Owen and Heath because doubt lingers. They will prove themselves worthy and faithful if you allow them the opportunity.”