Two Mates for a Magistrate (2 page)

Aarika slipped through the tiny opening and out on the ledge.

Together, they jumped down, landing on their feet with no difficulty—Dietrich because of the abilities inherited from his father, Aarika with the help of her own magic.

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Dietrich intended to take them out the way he’d come, but the path was no longer clear. There seemed to be more guards than ever now. They could still climb over the walls, and if they managed to leave the central area of the town and head into the wild, they’d be home free.

They headed toward the outer edge of the courtyard, but froze in their tracks when they heard a shout coming from behind them. “The witch! The witch has escaped!”

Abandoning all caution, they lunged forward. Dietrich helped Aarika over the wall, and they landed safely on the other side, only to find themselves facing a new obstacle. The guards alerted by the shout from inside were now coming in tremendous number toward the prisons.

Aarika swooned, a testament of her injury, and Dietrich’s concern increased. He’d underestimated the seriousness of the attack on his mother. He managed to catch her before she fell, and she regained her balance. Dietrich kept his eye on her as they made their way up the road and away from the prisons. He’d have liked to go faster, but in these circumstances, he could hardly rush his mother.

Their luck ran out when a dozen or so gathered humans spotted them. “There!” a man said. “It’s the witch.”

Panic swelled inside Dietrich. He began to run, his mother straight behind him. If only they could reach the river, it might keep the humans from following them.

The plan didn’t work out as they’d intended. The main road toward the river was cut off by more townspeople and the two of them were forced to cut through a side alley and jump into the thicket. They slipped and scratched their skin as they ran, but at last, the river Moselle was in view.

With the humans trailing behind them, Dietrich and his mother jumped in the water and began to swim. He felt strength flow back into her with each moment spent in the life-giving liquid. When they
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reached the other side and climbed on the opposite bank, she looked much better than before.

Aarika hugged him tightly. “Oh, my sweet, brave child. You should have never risked your life for me. Promise me you won’t do anything so rash ever again.”

Dietrich hugged her back. He couldn’t imagine an existence without her by his side. “I can’t,” he said.

The moment broke when they spotted the humans on the other side of the Moselle. “Come on, baby. We have to get out of here.”

Dietrich followed after his mother as they disappeared into the darkness, leaving behind their old life and the irrational anger of the Trier witch hunters.

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Ghostly hands reached out to him, holding him captive. The laughter of screeching voices filled his ears, choking him. Wolfram tried to escape, but darkness surrounded him. The only thing he could see was death, the torn corpses of his men mocking him. “You won’t ever be rid of us,” the ghosts said. “You cannot escape.”

In front of him, a large shadow loomed. The figure of a huge wolf emerged, its eyes burning coals of feral insanity, its fangs dripping with the venom of the virus. Its voice sounded in Wolfram’s head, as clear as day. “You cannot escape,” it repeated.

Wolfram tried to gather his strength, but his muscles froze and his powers refused to obey. The wolf lunged forward. It was so close now its putrid stink filled Wolfram’s nostrils. He thought any moment now, he’d fall and die under the razor-sharp fangs.

A voice reached out to him. “My Lord!” it said.”My Lord!

Wolfram!”

Wolfram recognized it as belonging to Klaus, his best, no, his only friend in the world. He clung to Klaus’s words, and the wolf in front of him seemed to hesitate. At last, the darkness began to dissipate, and Wolfram opened his eyes to the familiar sight of his quarters and his friend’s concerned face.

“Are you all right, My Lord?” Klaus asked.

Wolfram nodded. He hated displaying weakness, but he trusted Klaus to not speak of his ever-present nightmares. They never went away, no matter what he did, but he’d managed to keep his sanity and
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his position as Magistrate just the same. Or at least, he’d done so until seven years back, when he’d been forced to face the lost souls of Timber Lake.

The dead ferals had gathered in the ghost town and demanded justice. Wolfram had managed to defeat them, just barely. But now, the nightmares grew worse with each passing day, his spirit still haunted and tainted by what he’d seen and done. If this went on for much longer, Wolfram would lose his mind.

Klaus offered him a glass of water, and Wolfram took it, gladly gulping down the liquid. It helped somewhat, and once he finished drinking it, he felt a little bit more like himself. “I’m fine, Klaus,” he managed to say at last. “You know I’m restless in my sleep.”

They never spoke of his night terrors—it was something they held between them in silence, following the agreement that the Magistrate should always be the rock of their people, not a child afraid of the dark.

Klaus helped him lean against the pillows and pushed away the quilt. “Lay down. It’ll pass.”

Klaus lay on the bed next to him, holding Wolfram close. The man’s heat felt comfortable, even if Wolfram had never managed to truly love the other man. They were friends, best friends. Once, they’d even been lovers, although they’d stopped when Klaus began to show signs of discomfort. Something between them didn’t quite click. A wall separated them, the same thing that made Klaus address him by
My Lord
and not his given name.

Wolfram blamed himself, and allowed Klaus his privacy. In spite of Klaus’s continuous diligence and dedication, Wolfram couldn’t melt the ice in his heart, the same ice that gave him the ability to keep on living and skirting insanity for so many centuries.

He felt even guiltier when Klaus took his hand and kissed it.

“Rest, My Lord. You need it.”

Klaus got up and made his way out. Wolfram watched the other man with a heavy heart. His mind still whirled with glum thoughts. At
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this rate, he’d alienate Klaus completely and lose his only anchor in the world.

No, the Magistrate couldn’t afford to think like this. He had a duty to his people. He needed to preserve his strength and focus on it. He closed his eyes, and forced himself to rest.

He must have fallen asleep because when he came to, the first thing he saw was the rays of the sun filter through the curtains of his bedroom. A shrill noise filled his ears, and Wolfram identified it as the sound that rose him from his slumber. Groaning, he picked up his cell phone. Clearly, he’d overslept, but the extra hours of rest didn’t put him in a better mood, not given his wake-up call. He hoped nothing bad had happened. Usually, whenever someone dialed his private number, it didn’t bring good news.

The caller ID held the name Dr. Andrew Blunt. Surprised, Wolfram accepted the incoming call. “Hello, Doctor,” he greeted the human.

“Hello, My Lord. I’ll get right to the point. My son and I believe we’ve reached a breakthrough in the study of the virus.”

Wolfram’s heart began to beat faster. Could it be? Could Andrew Blunt have managed what all their people failed to do? “I see,” he said as calmly as possible. “Can you tell me a bit more?”

“Well, it’s still experimental,” Andrew said, “but we’re optimistic it will lead us on the right path.”

“Very good, Doctor. I’ll be right there, and you can explain once I reach the compound.”

They said their good-byes, and then Wolfram disconnected the call. Wolfram got out of bed and rushed to get dressed. Every second was precious. Wolfram had never found his mate, and he accepted it as a punishment for failing his people. That didn’t mean others should be punished for his mistakes. Now more than ever, he needed to find out what exactly what Andrew’s discoveries implied. Perhaps Doctor Blunt would be the key to a new age in spirit wolf history.

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* * * *

Meanwhile, Trier, Germany

Dietrich breathed in deeply, the light wind ruffling his hair and carrying the smell of the river. It was the first time he’d come to Trier in almost half a millennium. He didn’t know why he did so now. It could have been nostalgia, tiredness, or just the fact that, in the end, this was the only place he’d ever called home.

Just the week before, he’d marked two hundred years from his mother’s death in the calendar. She’d lived more than humanly possible, more than she would have wanted. Even after all these years, he still experienced moments of grief and guilt when he realized she’d hung on for so long, withstanding the pain of the separation from her husband, just so that she could be by Dietrich’s side.

Lost in his thoughts, Dietrich wandered on the streets aimlessly.

Each corner reminded him of something, a distant memory from his past here. A shiver went through him when he recalled their desperate dash through the little town and their swim through the river and to safety. The images were so vivid, even after all this time. It had been the beginning of their new life, a life spent on the run, hiding from shadows, moving to a new place every year or so, whenever Aarika deemed it necessary. By the end, Dietrich thought paranoia had driven her. He’d never once seen, in all his years of existence, the creatures who had slain his father. He’d intended to find them and take revenge, but all his searching had been in vain. Perhaps they’d have come to him, if only he opened himself to the beast within. But now more than ever, Dietrich feared what would happen if he did so. The restlessness of his wolf increased with each passing day, and it was only the magic he’d learned from his mother that allowed him to keep it leashed.

Dietrich shook himself, pushing back the glum thoughts. He should never have come here. It just made things worse instead of
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fixing them. Perhaps he should return to Tibet. The monks there had helped him before, when he’d been lost and desperate.

Just as he considered this new course of action, Dietrich felt something, an odd attraction reach out. It called out to the instincts of the beast, fighting the veil of magic that held them back. Any other time, Dietrich might have been able to control it, but now, he couldn’t have done it to save his life.

He kept on walking, until he reached a sort of construction site. It seemed like the workers erected a new hospital of sorts, although only the skeleton had been put up so far. Dietrich scanned the area for anything that might have triggered this instinct. His eyes fell on a masculine silhouette, high up on the beams. With his keen eyesight, Dietrich could take in all the exquisite features even from this distance. Sweat shone on a strong, naked, masculine torso, muscles flexing as the man worked on securing the building. The human’s close-cropped blond hair spoke of a distinctive Arian heritage.

Dietrich inherited a mixed look, since his father had been French, but not so with this man. Alas, the sun prevented Dietrich from seeing his face.

A shout sounded above him, and Dietrich had the time to jump back before a heavy beam hit the spot where he’d just been. Still, the sudden motion made him lose his balance, an odd thing given that he’d never been caught off guard in his life. Alarmed yells filled the entire area, with every human rushing to check on him. Their distress was entirely justifiable, given the size of the thing that had fallen from above. Even someone like him would have been severely injured, not to mention a frail human.

A heavy hand helped him up, and Dietrich looked up to see the man from before. The bluest eyes in existence scanned him with concern. “Are you all right?” the man asked in German.

“Fine, thank you,” Dietrich replied. His voice sounded weird to his own ears. He hadn’t spoken his native tongue in many years now.

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The man didn’t look convinced. Dietrich gripped his hand, and the moment their skin made contact, electricity sizzled over his skin. He started, almost breaking free of the human’s hold, but the stranger held on. Dietrich caught a flash of arousal in the other man’s eyes, and his senses were invaded with the distinctive scent of desire. It would seem their attraction went both ways.

“Are you sure?” he asked Dietrich. “You seem a bit dazed.”

Dietrich wanted to laugh. Of course he was dazed, but not because of any fallen beam. The man’s presence felt intoxicating, and Dietrich’s hand itched to touch all that delicious skin.

He didn’t reply, and the human must have taken it as agreement.

Much to Dietrich’s dismay, someone tossed the gorgeous hunk a shirt.

“Come on,” the human said as he covered himself. “Let’s get you a drink.”

As they headed away from the accident site, the perfect specimen of manhood spoke again. “I’m Fritz Bauer. What’s your name?”

At last, Dietrich regained his abilities to speak, probably what Fritz had intended in the first place. “Dietrich Dupont. Pleased to meet you.”

Fritz offered him a smile that revealed teeth almost too white to be real. “Likewise.” He gestured toward an improvised bench and miraculously retrieved two beers from somewhere. He offered one to Dietrich and opened the other for himself. Dietrich did the same and took a sip out of his bottle. He hid a grimace at the taste of the low-alcohol brew. Of course, a competent worker would not drink at his workplace.

They sat together on the bench, sipping their beers in silence. “So, I haven’t seen you around,” Fritz said at last. “New in town?”

“Not really,” Dietrich answered, not sure why he even told Fritz this. “I used to live here when I was a kid. It’s the first time I’ve been here since then.” Never mind that his childhood days were four centuries back.