Chapter 15
15
Morgan studied the two men—well, one man and one wolf—in front of her while she stroked the sleeping pup’s fur. The steady rise and fall of his sides felt calming as she willed him to heal. He was just a pup with his whole life ahead of him.
No one should have to suffer like he did because of a homicidal maniac, although she couldn’t ultimately say it wasn’t a demon. With a slight frown, she chewed her lower lip, debating whether to bring it up.
“Morgan?”
She met Rafael’s gaze and pressed her lips together, trying not to smile at his narrowed gaze. “I can’t have any secrets, can I?”
He slowly shook his head. “Nope. What is it? I sense your indecision.”
She exhaled and glanced at Lucan before returning to Rafael’s mercurial gaze, watching with wonder as he changed into his human form. “That is so cool to watch.”
She shook her head, refocusing her thoughts. “Back to your question, though. I’m not sure what to say. During the healing, I thought I sensed demon spoor, but before I could pinpoint where it was, it disappeared, and all I sensed was Fae. I hate not being able to use my powers more efficiently. How can I save my sister if I can’t even use them to help us with a simple healing?”
Lucan chuckled. “I don’t think I would call what you did for Kahlúa a simple healing. By all rights, the pup should be dead, but you saved him. Not me. Not Rafael. You . So, before you start beating yourself up, accept the win and grow from it. That was the first lesson I had to learn after I was converted. I was alone and had no clue how to be an upstanding vampire. Hell,” he chuckled again. “If we’re telling truths here, I’m still winging it.”
He turned his mercurial gaze to Rafael. “I’m certain you have felt the same over the centuries?”
Rafael nodded. “Not only was I cursed into the body of a werewolf by a crazy Fae seeking both vengeance and world domination, but I also was given added boluses of God only knows what by a human psychopath. So no, Morgan, you aren’t alone in any of this. I think every Immortal wolf has gone and is maybe still going through the same emotions you are. I know this is clichéd, but time really does heal all wounds.”
His rigid stance seemed to relax. “I no longer hate Fer-Diorich for what he did. He gave me an amazing life. My only regret was that I held on to my fear of revealing my ability to return to my human form to my brothers. As you saw, it was needless and a waste of energy I could have put forth elsewhere.”
She raised one eyebrow. “Like where?”
His gaze darkened and almost looked blue in the room’s fading light. He slowly leaned toward her, carefully avoiding the wolf in her lap, and pressed his lips to hers. “I could have been looking for you, mi pequeno.”
A warmth flooded her body and singed her cheeks, but her heart soared, the motion dizzying. Her gaze anchored to his. She smiled, unable to look away.
“Ugh, I think I’m going to throw up,” Lucan muttered.
Morgan’s laughter filled the room, washing away the fear and worry that had lain heavy since finding the ravaged body of Kahlúa. She patted the vampire’s arm. “I will remind you of your words when you discover someone you care for.”
Do you? Rafael asked through their mental link. Care for me?
Her gaze snapped back to him. This is a discussion for when we are alone.
Needing to change the subject, she ran her hand over the wolf’s abdomen to make sure he was healing from the inside out. “Some of my new Fae powers are truly amazing. I love being able to visualize inside a body instead of having to take him or her to the hospital for the appropriate scan. Doctors and veterinarians seem to have their own time schedule instead of the patients’.”
“Is he healed enough for me to return him to the den?” Lucan asked. “I’m certain his pack—and mother—are all quite worried about him.”
“They are,” Rafael said. “I can feel their fear beating at me.”
Morgan frowned, trying to sense what he did. “I don’t feel anything. How is it that you can?”
Rafael gave her a crooked grin. “Cursed werewolf.”
She rolled her eyes. “Well, duh. That was a stupid question. She studied the wolf, noting his steady breathing and relaxed sleep. “He seems to be doing very well. His insides have already knitted together, thanks to desperation-tinged magic.”
Glancing at the mantle clock, she reached into her bag and pulled out three syringes. Filling one with another dose of the sedative, she readied the second with a blend of antibiotics and the third with a pain medicine.
She handed them to Lucan. “You must give him the sedative in two hours and the antibiotics thirty minutes later. Otherwise, it’s just watching and waiting. If he seems to be in a lot of pain, give him half of the pain medication and then another six hours after that.”
Lucan took the syringes and carefully put them in his shirt pocket. “What are signs I need to watch for?”
“Give him the pain medication only if he is agitated, and by agitated, I mean really agitated. The last thing he needs is to move too much and undo the internal healing. If he seems to be struggling to breathe, develops a fever, starts vomiting, or has diarrhea, reach out to Rafael, and we will go straight to the den for another healing.”
She laid her hand on the animal’s soft fur, unable to stop the worry about his recovery. “This isn’t going to be easy for him or us, I’m afraid. Whoever did this wanted to send a direct message and could have injected a poison, planted a spell to keep him from completely healing, or any other number of horrible things. All we can do is watch him and keep him comfortable.”
She pulled back her hand and stood, brushing off any dirt from her pants, but her gaze never left Kahlúa’s prone body. “I will do another healing session tomorrow…maybe a couple more just to ensure we didn’t miss anything.”
Lucan carefully scooped up the pup’s body, cradling him like a sleeping child against his chest. “Rafael, can you get the door for me?” he asked, already moving toward the front entryway. “If anything changes, I’ll holler.”
She watched as he walked across the yard and disappeared into the dense shadows hiding the individual trees. Rafael moved behind her, resting his hands on her shoulders, gently massaging them. The back-and-forth motion of his thumbs calmed her nerves.
“They will be fine. Kahlúa is strong and wants to live. If something else should arise, we will defeat it as well. Together, we will get through anything.”
She leaned back against his chest, the warmth from his body pouring into hers, chilled from the night air. He kissed the top of her head, and the warmth turned into a tingle. Closing her eyes, she laid her head back and let him nuzzle her neck. “What are we doing, Rafael? Where is this going?”
He turned her around, his hands cupping her face, but the indecision in his eyes worried her. She pulled away, realizing he wasn’t ready for this. For her. Maybe she wasn’t ready either. Placing her hands over his, she slowly drew them from her face and cradled them between her palms. Her thumb slowly moved back and forth over his.
“Maybe,” she whispered, “just maybe we both need to take a step back instead of jumping in without thinking things through. I know I like you—a lot, but I never thought I wanted a relationship.”
“Because of the curse.”
She nodded. “Yes. I didn’t want to pour my heart and soul into someone and then so cruelly be ripped away. It wouldn’t be fair to him… It wouldn’t be fair to you .”
“Life isn’t fair, pequeno. Life just is. We will make it what we want and enjoy our time with one another. It is all we can do.”
“True, but we need to concentrate on the upcoming battle. Managing a relationship wouldn’t be very smart. We must focus on finding Bres and stopping him from helping Fer-Diorich cross over early. We knew that dratted Fae would escape on Samhain. It’s what we’ve been preparing for. Having him strike at us sooner isn’t something I want to deal with, and neither do the other Immortals. We must stop Bres.”
“We need to find him first. If Ceridwen and Cernunnos can’t locate him, we’re in for a long chase.”
She frowned. “How do you know they haven’t? Have they contacted you?”
“No. That’s just battle strategy talking. If they had discovered any location for us to check on, we would have heard from them by now. As it is, all we can do is sit and wait.” He gave her his crooked smile, which was totally adorable. “And I think everyone, including you, knows how well I sit and wait.”
She laughed. “You don’t—at all.” Squeezing his hands and pressing them to her collarbone, she raised on her tiptoes and kissed his soft lips. “This is not a rejection, Rafael. I think you know I adore you. You were… unexpected . I just don’t think pursuing whatever this is growing between us right now is in either of our best interests.”
“While you may be right, mi tesoro, we will be discussing this the moment that damned Fae is locked up for good, and the curse nullified.”
While her heart fought the idea of waiting, her mind lingered over the endearment. My treasure . She could only hope whatever was growing between them was strong enough to get them through the upcoming fight. Somehow, they had to find a Celtic-Fomorian god, capture him, and then stop his boss, who just happened to be one of the most powerful Fae mankind has ever known.
She stared past him, her gaze lingering over the darkness inside the tree line. Night had fallen fast, signaling the turning season. She ran her hands over her upper arms, the night’s chill sinking through her skin and settling into her bones. At least, she hoped it was natural. The alternative wasn’t a good omen.
The tiny hairs on her neck rose, and she knew they were no longer alone. We have company ,” she whispered through their mental path and sidestepped closer to Rafael’s muscular body. Not so much for his protection but more for joining strengths. They were so much more together than apart.
I feel him, too. Let him come to us . He pulled her closer, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and staring at her as if neither had a care in the world except for the other.
A slight puff of sulfur wafted toward them, then morphed into the more pleasurable scents of cinnamon and, strangely, frankincense. The air turned heavy, then wheezed as if squeezing out a large breath. A figure shimmered at the forest’s edge, solidifying and turning into a familiar figure.
Morgan smiled. “Zhivko,” she said in her usual tone, all worry evaporating. “You’ve returned.” A brief image of his brother’s death flickered in her mind, erasing all easiness. She hated giving people bad news, but telling a demon his brother was dead would never be on her top ten list of favorite things to do. From some of her mother’s stories, demons were notoriously ill-tempered and hair-triggered. Anything could set them off.
Yet…she had not witnessed that the first time they had met—just the opposite. Zhivko listened with mostly an open mind and hadn’t ripped them into tiny pieces, so maybe there was hope he wouldn’t this time, either. Although… Her thoughts turned to her twin sister. If someone killed her, she would never rest until the person responsible had suffered a horrific death.
She reached up and laced her fingers through Rafael’s, still gripping her shoulder, as they waited for the demon to approach. Zhivko’s silver gaze moved around the clearing and settled on them as he slowly advanced, stopping a few feet from them. His chiseled body stood as stiff and still as a statue, and the odor of brimstone grew stronger.
Rafael nodded at him in greeting and didn’t waste any time. “We have news of Dago.”
The demon tilted his head forward, his black hair flowing over his shoulder like a sheet of water. He lifted his gaze to hers. “My lady.” She smiled but blinked back her unshed tears, refusing to cry. Her body ignored the silent plea, and a tear slid down her cheek.
With one finger, Zhivko reached for it, letting the salty tear settle on the end of one finger, his gaze never leaving it until it soaked into his skin. “So, you found my brother.” His gaze lifted to her. “He is no more.” He stated in a flat tone.
“Yes and no. Dago’s current form is gone, but before he disappeared, he said his soul was still intact,” Rafael explained.
“Start at the beginning and tell me everything you witnessed,” Zhivko demanded.
Morgan inhaled with a nod, told him they had gone to her store to get medicine for an injured wolf, and discovered Dago, his ravaged body dying on her storeroom floor. “He was there to warn us that Fer-Diorich is more powerful than we knew and that he could breach the veil before Samhain.”
She pulled away from Rafael and laid her hand on Zhivko’s crossed arms, feeling the strong jerk of his muscle under her touch. “Your brother returned to Dark World with his soul. I’m assuming that means his normal body will regenerate there, and he can return once he’s healed?”
She smiled at his confused expression. “I have many Fae ancestors and paid attention to Morrigan and Nemain’s’ stories growing up. It was an assumption on my part, but Dago was so insistent we tell you about his soul, I assumed demons are like Fae.”
“I see much of your grandmother in you, my lady. Yes, when a demon’s soul is still alive, his normal demon body will regenerate over time. Our king and his new bride will be able to aid in his healing. I will send word to Lucien, and he will find Dago. It has been a long time since I’ve been home, but I hear there are others in his court who will also be able to help, especially a new metal mage mated to the king’s head enforcer. It is told her magic liberated the kingdom from the deranged queen not long ago. It’s an awe-inspiring feat, I might add. The queen was…formidable.”
The light blue flame in the center of his eyes faded to silver. “Thank you for your help in finding him. Now, I will return the favor and aid you as much as possible. Even though my body may be trapped in the Unseelie Court, I can still do a few things in your mortal realm—go places and eavesdrop where you cannot. First, you will need all the help you can get in finding the traitor, Bres.”
Rafael stepped closer, resting his hands on her shoulders with a gentle squeeze. “There is something we must do before starting on this wild goose chase—unless you already know where we need to look. With the information Dago gave us, we must report to my brethren and Morgan’s sister so they can be better prepared for any surprise.”
Zhivko nodded. “I will meet you in the caves.”
Rafael frowned. “They’re warded.”
The demon smiled. “I know,” he said and disappeared.
Morgan glanced at Rafael. “Should we be worried about that?”
“Not if we get there first and diffuse the situation. Makari will not be happy if someone breaches our home and threatens the pack’s safety.”
She snickered. “I love how all of you refer to yourselves as wolves first. It’s always pack this, pack that.”
“Truth be told, it’s easier. We’ve, well, they’ve been cursed for so long, it’s only natural for them to think first as a wolf. I stayed in that form almost as long and think that way.”
“You have also been cursed, Rafael. Don’t deny that fact.” Morgan hurried through the house and into the cave tunnel but didn’t slow down. Her feet raced over the uneven and sometimes slick rocks as they neared the entrance to the wolves’ part of the cavern. The soft yellow light from Fáelán’s library poured through the open doorway, warm and inviting.
Once inside, they glanced around, but no one was there. “Strange,” she muttered. “Someone is always in here.”
“Not when something is wrong,” Rafael said, grabbing her arm and pulling her back into the hall. As they hurried past each room, a glance inside showed all were empty.
Racing into the front room, the front door stood open, and it wasn’t difficult to hear the snarls from outside. The subtle waft of sulfur-laced cinnamon blended with the bonfire that the Immortals kept lit.
She jokingly called it their powwow place because everyone seemed to gravitate there when one or more needed to talk or strategize, which happened more often since Fer-Diorich’s first attack.
Running outside, they jerked to a stop. Zhivko stood in the middle of a ring of snarling werewolves. Standing tall, he was stoically impressive while he waited for their arrival, his arms crossed over his heavily muscled chest.
His silver gaze found theirs with a slow smirk. “Most beings, after living for centuries, evolve in their knowledge and intellect. I guess werewolves must be different. No matter how often I told them why I was here, they wouldn’t believe me.”
He jerked his thumb toward a growling black wolf on his right. “Especially this one. I don’t think he would trust his own mother.”
Rafael tried to stifle his laughter, knowing Makari would not appreciate it at all. “Truthfully, his mother is part of the reason he’s cursed. Not only did she willingly give the Dark Fae her blood, but she also told him where he could find Makari and his sons.”
Zhivko scowled. “And I thought demon mothers were bad.” He threw a glance at the snarling black wolf. “I am sorry for what you have been through—for what all of you have suffered. That damned Fae has created chaos and havoc in so many lives. I swear to you, I am here, as here as I can be, to help stop him.”
The Immortals’ brother and self-appointed guardian, Torin, moved closer, stepping between the demon and Morgan. “He speaks the truth?” he asked her over his shoulder.
Fáelán turned to them. “It seems things have progressed without our knowledge.” He turned to the demon and slowly extended his paw. “We welcome any help. I am Fáelán MacGlinn. The man and sometimes brown wolf is Torin O’Roark—our guardian against humans and their technology. The black wolf who is very resistant to backing off and is always the first and most ferocious in battle is Makari Ivashchenko. And you are?”
Zhivko glanced at Makari and gave the wolf a single nod. “Good to know who I would want by my side should it come to a battle. His silver gaze flipped back to Fáelán. “My name is Zhivko. I have resided in the Unseelie Court for several centuries with a group of select warriors who have broken off from the king. We joined with others who have done the same in the Seelie Court, sort of like the Fae secret police. We have been trying to track an unknown entity who will try to breach the barrier between the worlds, which happens at Samhain. He will be the one to help Fer-Diorich escape.”
He rolled back his shoulders and stood straighter, his gaze meeting Morgan’s. Even with the space between them, she felt his sorrow and pain beating at her, the scent of cinnamon filling her nostrils, but no expression showed on his stony face. “My brother, Dago, recently gave his life to deliver a message to Morgan about the upcoming battle.”
All eyes turned to her, and she nodded. “He did. I won’t go into details, but it was horrible.” Her voice cracked, and Rafael’s hand covered the small of her back, giving her peace and strength. “Dago told us Fer-Diorich’s army is much larger than we realized, and his power has grown immense. He can now breach the veil before the appointed day and will be coming after me and Gwyn, most likely the day before Samhain, but it could be even sooner.”
Her words were like lighting the fuse to a bomb as voices and growls erupted around them.