Dangerously Charming (19 page)

Jenna jerked her head up to look at him, surprised by the bleak tone in his voice.

“I don't understand,” she said.

He gave one of those minute shrugs again and turned his back on her to walk over to the chest against the far wall, tension visible in the set of his shoulders. The chest creaked open and he knelt there silently for a moment, rummaging around its interior before pulling out a small packet of what might have been herbs, a wide-bottomed glass flask, and a sharp-looking knife.

Jenna could feel her eyes widen as he placed everything on the floor in front of the little stove and gestured for her to take a seat on the cushion he put down next to it. A whispered command to the tiny orange salamander woke it from its doze, and it turned in circles rapidly until its heat flared into renewed life.

“What's all that for?” she asked, settling onto the cushion. Her changing center of gravity was hard to get used to, and she almost tipped over and slid right back off. It wasn't so much that the physical differences were dramatic, but that her body barely felt like itself anymore. She assumed it was easier for the average expectant mother, since the changes were more gradual, but she still wasn't quite sure how they did it. She'd find out for herself soon enough. Too soon, in fact.

“I told Mikhail that I was no longer able to use the universal energy to heal, and that is quite true.” His lips compressed into a thin line momentarily, before he gathered himself
together and went on. “However, I do have a few other limited options at my disposal.”

He placed the flask on top of the stove, a flat thin pottery disk sandwiched between it and the direct, albeit subtle heat generated by the salamander. It peeked up at Gregori, a small forked tongue darting out as if to taste the air, surprising intelligence in its glowing yellow eyes, before giving a minute sneeze and retreating to its spot underneath.

“Sorry, Ziva,” Gregori said, bending down so he was at the same height as the fiery orange creature. “I know the herbs tickle your nose. Don't worry; this won't take long.”

“His name is Ziva?” Jenna said. She hadn't realized it even had a name. “And what are the herbs for?”

“Her name,” Gregori said absently, tapping a minute portion of a powdery substance into the flask and adding a splash of water from the kettle sitting next to his hand. He swirled the mixture together and then popped a cork into the top, so the flask slowly began to fill with a misty vapor the color of a blue jay's feathers.

“Right, sorry.
Her
name.” Jenna wasn't sure how you were supposed to be able to tell a male salamander from a female one, and wasn't about to ask. “It's pretty.”

“The word translates to ‘living' or ‘alive,' near enough,” Gregori said. “Which a salamander certainly is.” He turned back to face her, his visage revealing nothing of the thoughts behind it. “As for the herbs, I've thought of something that might help, if you're willing to trust me.”

Was she? She trusted Mick, and Mick clearly trusted his brother. Besides, she was so far out of her depth, she might as well be in the Bermuda Triangle. “What are we talking about here?”

“Did Mikhail happen to mention anything about my mother?” Gregori asked, flipping his long dark ponytail over his shoulder to keep it away from the stove.

“Um, he said she was a powerful shamaness,” Jenna replied. “But to be honest, I'm not quite sure what that means.”

Gregori gave a brief laugh, his tan face brightening. “Yes, well, where my mother is concerned, I am not sure anyone
really
knew what that meant. She pushed the boundaries well past what the term normally encompassed.”

He took the flask off the heat and set it aside for a moment while he continued, “A shamaness can be many things. It is the female term for a shaman, who is generally considered to be a priest or spiritual leader of some kind, or a medicine man, or both. They are often believed to be able to heal and predict the future. Sometimes they do magical work. My mother was all that and more.”

“She sounds impressive.”

Gregori snorted. “She was scary as hell, to be honest. Not that she meant to be. Iduyan was gentle with the sick, kind to the beasts of the forest, and a wise leader. She was also so far along her spiritual path, she had left most of her humanity behind her well before I was born. I have always suspected that I was an unwelcome surprise from her dalliance with Jarilo; children are messy and emotional and hard to control, none of which are conducive to a spiritual practice. Certainly no man, god or Human, ever tempted her to take such a chance again, that I know of.”

“Huh. It doesn't sound like she was likely to be a warm, fuzzy mom.”

“Hardly.” Gregori shook his head. “Don't get me wrong—in many ways, she was a fabulous parent. She taught me many things, not the least of which were many techniques of healing and meditation, and also helped me to hone my bond with the universal energy she worked with so well. But I quickly learned to be silent and stay out from underfoot when she was busy with more important things.”

“More important than her own child?”

“You have to realize that by this time, my mother had become a great spiritual leader. A select group of disciples had gathered around her, creating a small but dedicated community, all of them with powerful abilities of their own. She
spent most of her time either teaching or off on her own meditating or speaking with the spirits. It wasn't that I was unimportant; merely that her work was so much
more
. What she achieved was unparalleled in Human history.”

“Sort of like being raised by Gandhi, I guess,” Jenna said, feeling sorry for him. Her family life was starting to look positively normal, compared to the stories he and his brother told her.

“Gandhi crossed with Einstein and mixed with Merlin,” Gregori said with a small smile. “Please do not think I am complaining in any way. It was a great gift to be born to such a woman and raised in that community. But we are straying from the point, I fear.”

Jenna stared at the flask dubiously. “Right. That.”

“As you say: that.” He tapped the side of the flask and the smoke inside slowly started to transmute from blue into a dark indigo, and from that to a lighter lavender color. “Much of what my mother did might be considered by some to be a form of magic, although she despised that label. I still carry some of the remedies and elixirs she made so long ago, and none of them have ever lost their potency, from what I can tell. I use them infrequently, since I have no way of replacing or re-creating them, but this mixture could prove effective in slowing your baby's growth, at least temporarily.”

Jenna's eyes widened. She wasn't sure which part of this impressed her more—the fact that he might be able to help her control her bizarre situation or the fact that he was willing to use up some of his precious, irreplaceable supply of remedies handed down from his mother in order to do it.

“Could?” she asked doubtfully. “You don't sound very certain.”

“This particular elixir was designed to return a body to its rightful rhythms,” Gregori said. “It was purposely made to work on a wide variety of conditions; whether or not it will do so in this case remains to be seen. Additionally, even if it does work, I have no idea how long the effects will last.
Normally, it would remedy the issue and the problem would stay fixed. But it was created for use on the other side of the doorway. Here you will be fighting the energies of the Otherworld, and I am not certain there is any potion made that can do that for long.”

“Oh.” None of that sounded terribly encouraging. “Are there any negative side effects I should worry about?”

One slim shoulder rose and fell. “I suspect it will do either what you wish, or nothing at all. But there are no guarantees.”

When are there ever?
“Okay,” she said. “Let's do this.”

“Very well.” Gregori took the now-cooled flask and pulled out the cork rapidly. In almost the same moment, he used the knife to prick his finger so that three precise drops of blood fell into the mixture. Instantly, the lavender mist turned green, then pink, then condensed into a ball, so that when he tipped the flask over, a single pink pellet, about the size of a large vitamin, lay in the palm of his hand.

“Ow,” Jenna said. And, “Ew. That has your blood in it.”

Gregori sighed, clearly unimpressed by her squeamishness. “A shaman activates a medicine with his or her own vital energy. Normally, that could be done by channeling the universal energy, but since I can no longer access that source, the fastest and easiest alternative was a bit of my own essence. Believe me, three drops of blood is nothing.”

For a moment, his eyes were bleak, lost in the past, and Jenna remembered what little Babs and Mick had told her about what the evil Baba Yaga, Brenna, had done. That made this small gesture mean even more, and she certainly wasn't going to waste it.

“Right,” she said, holding out her hand. “Do I just swallow it?”

He nodded, and she took a deep breath then tossed it back. He handed her a pottery cup full of water to wash it down with.

“Hey! That tickles!” Jenna tried not to giggle as the feathery feeling went from her mouth, down her throat, then settled
into her stomach, where it buzzed and fizzed for a moment before settling down to a small but discernible hum.

“Does it?” Gregori raised one feathery eyebrow, looking pleased. “That means it is working. Or at least, it is doing something. To be honest, I thought there was only about a fifty–fifty chance of even that. Excellent.”

“How will we know if it is working?” she asked, smiling back at him, glad that his sacrifice hadn't been in vain, and hoping that maybe this tiny bit of healing work would make him feel less broken.

He nodded in the direction of her belly. “I suspect we'll be able to tell one way or the other when you wake up in the morning. With any luck, you will still look much as you do now.”

Behind her back, Jenna crossed her fingers.

*   *   *

SINCE
it was the whole reason for seeking him out in the first place, Jenna and Gregori spent the rest of the morning going over her grandmother's notebooks and journals, while Gregori tried to remember if he'd ever heard mention of a magical key that might possibly be helpful, and Jenna tried not to worry about Mick.

They hadn't made any particular progress, and they were surrounded by crumbs from the simple bread and cheese he'd served her along with numerous cups of strong black tea. Jenna put her hands against her back and pressed hard, feeling the strain of sitting on an unyielding cushion on top of a barely harder floor. Her eyes ached from trying to read in the dim light, and the inside of her mouth tasted like tannin and sawdust.

Gregori rose to his feet with grace, making her feel even crankier, and put out one golden brown hand to help her up. “Why don't we go outside and stretch our legs. The mind often works better with a little exercise for the body.”

“I know what you mean,” Jenna said, squinting a little as she walked outside into the bright light. “I do kickboxing,
and I often figure out the solution to some problem I've been stuck on when I practice.”

The hint of a smile made Gregori's face even more handsome than usual, and for the first time Jenna could see a slight resemblance between him and his brother.

“Ah, kickboxing. I have seen some interesting exhibitions, although I haven't done much of it myself. Would you be interested in showing me some of your moves?”

“Well, we'll have to be careful because of the baby, but I don't think the pregnancy has thrown off my balance too much yet,” Jenna said. She was happy to do something that didn't involve thinking about her issues for a while. “Let's see what you can do.”

They sparred for a while, in a kind of slow motion, and then when he asked, Jenna demonstrated how she'd taken down the men who had attacked her. Suddenly, Mick galloped up and jumped off his horse, growling at his brother and standing protectively in front of Jenna. His hair had already begun to take on a greenish tint, and his eyes sparked yellow.

“For the love of God,” Jenna said with some exasperation. “Will you cut that out? We were just fooling around.”

“Oh,” Mick said, standing down and taking a couple of steps away from them both. “Of course you were. I just saw him attacking you and thought—”

“Yeah, I know. Thank you for that, but you know Gregori would never hurt me.”

“No, he wouldn't,” Gregori said, raising one feathery black eyebrow. “But I think you left out part of your story. A very important part, I would say.”

OVER
dinner, Day told his brother about the strange new abilities he'd been developing, with Jenna chiming in occasionally with her own, usually snarky, observations as she ate more than the other two put together.

Apparently, the baby's fast growth was making her even hungrier than usual for a pregnant woman. Luckily, Day had come across some edible (and nonsentient) critters on his way back, so they had something that resembled a cross between a chicken and a chartreuse pigeon roasting on a spit out in front of the hut. He'd brought home a string of the ugly things slung across the back of his horse, and all that was left was a pile of hollow bones and some sharp-edged feathers. Gregori had contributed a salad of ferns, thistles, and dried grasses, which had tasted surprisingly good, despite its weedy appearance.

“That is a strange tale,” Gregori was saying, wiping his hands neatly on a square of rough cloth. “Glowing eyes and green hair. How very curious.”

Jenna snorted indelicately at his choice of words, but didn't say anything.

“Have you shown any signs of any new abilities or odd changes?” Day asked. Part of him hoped the answer would be yes, since then he wouldn't be alone in this unsettling transformation, but on the other hand, then it would just be one more problem to add to the list of things he'd done.

Gregori shook his head. “Nothing like that, no. And I saw Alexei before he returned to the other side of the doorway and I headed here, and he didn't mention anything unusual either. Although he might not have; he wasn't very talkative.”

Day's food sat in his stomach like a boulder. Alexei wasn't exactly chatty, but he could tell from the way Gregori said it that their middle brother was having as much trouble adjusting as the others.

“Maybe this is because I got the largest amount of the Water,” he said, his lips twisting. “Or maybe it is just some kind of punishment.”

“I doubt it,” Gregori suggested mildly. “I think you are punishing yourself enough. It hardly requires any outside intervention from the gods in addition.”

Jenna nodded in agreement, putting down the last of the bird she'd been gnawing on. Gregori passed her his piece of cloth wordlessly, almost managing to hide his small smile. She had grease spread over much of her face and both hands. Day thought it was a remarkably good look for her, all things considered. Of course, he thought she looked good no matter what, as much as he tried not to acknowledge it.

“Do you know anything else about the Leshy?” she asked Gregori. “Any old lore that might help us figure out what's happening to Mick and how to stop it?”

“Why would you want to stop it?” Gregori said. “I'm actually a little jealous that my brother has this new and fascinating gift.”

Day rolled his eyes. “More of a curse than a gift,” he said. “I don't seem to have any control over it at all, and it scares
Jenna.” He hated that part most of all. It wasn't as though they were
together
or anything, or even likely to see each other after this adventure was over. But for some reason, the thought of her being afraid of him stung worse than anything else. “That's the last thing I want to do.”

“I know you aren't doing it on purpose,” she said. “And really, I'm trying not to let it frighten me. It's just that I grew up with all these horror stories about the faeries and other Paranormal people.”

Day grimaced. “I know. And here you are, knee deep in your personal nightmare. Maybe I should leave. I'm sure Gregori can help you figure things out, and he can guide you through the Otherworld as well as I can. Maybe better.”

Jenna and Gregori exchanged glances.

“If that is your wish, Jenna, I would certainly be willing to help. Although I do believe this task belongs to my brother. Especially if Barbara said it did. I have rarely known her to be wrong.”

Jenna put one hand gently on Day's arm, sending tingles through the rest of his body.

“No,” she said. “I don't want you to go. Please stay. We're in this together, aren't we?”

Day tried not to show how ridiculously pleased he was by her answer, so his voice was a little gruff when he said, “If you say so. By the way, you just got grease stains on my shirt.”

She grinned at him. “I know. That's what you get for threatening to abandon me, dude.”

He grinned back, not even knowing why, except that it was hard to resist Jenna when she smiled.

*   *   *

DAY
sipped dubiously at the black sludge his brother called tea and grimaced. There were many reasons he preferred living on the other side of the doorway, and a decent cup of coffee first thing in the morning was one of them. From where he sat at the low table, he could see Jenna sleeping across the
room, the growing mound of her belly clear under its covering of blanket, her pale face framed by a fall of dark silky hair. Day tried to tell himself that she wasn't any more beautiful than all the other women he'd ever met, but he knew, at least in his eyes, it was a lie.

He glanced toward the doorway, its curtain slung back across a hook to let in the light and air. Gregori had gone out an hour before to meditate—or at least to attempt to; his brother had admitted with some reluctance that he hadn't been able to manage it successfully since they were tortured, although he refused to stop trying.

Day had stood outside and watched Gregori for a while, sitting cross-legged on a large rock by the edge of the turbid lake, completely still except for his slow breathing. Finally, Day had given up and gone back inside. He wasn't sure how you were supposed to be able to tell the difference between someone who was meditating and someone who was only trying to—they looked exactly the same to him.

So instead, he sat on a low stool and watched Jenna sleep. Probably not an improvement as far as his mental state was concerned, but at least the scenery was better.

Suddenly, Day heard a loud splash, followed by the sound of bare feet hitting the ground rapidly. A moment later, Gregori burst into the hut, his face intent with the alertness of a natural warrior preparing to go into battle. He grabbed a curved sword from where it hung on the wall, tossing its fellow toward Day, who caught it effortlessly with one hand as he rose from the table. Day's abandoned teacup rolled onto the floor with a thud.

“What's going on?” Jenna asked, struggling to untangle herself from the woven embrace of her blanket as she sat up. “Why do you two have swords?”

“Yes,” Day asked. “Why do we?” He headed toward the door without waiting for the answer.

“There is a gigantic beast rising from the lake and coming toward the hut,” Gregori said, as if he'd just told them the
neighbors were coming for breakfast. “We should probably stop it before it gets here.”

“Do you think Zilya sent it?” Day asked, pushing his feet into his boots and peering outside. Nothing but morning mist and empty ground.

“I wouldn't be surprised,” Gregori said. “I've been here for some time and there has never been anything in that lake except the occasional fish and one seemingly depressed otter.” He shook his head. “I told you I never liked that faery.”

“I'm coming too,” Jenna said, pulling on her own boots. She and Day had both slept in their clothes, since they'd packed only one change each, and there had been no room for niceties like pajamas. (Not that Day owned such a thing, but he hadn't felt it necessary to mention that.)

“No.” Both brothers spoke in unison, and she glared at them equally. Outside, the ground shook and a muffled roar reverberated through the air.

“Jenna, think of the baby,” Day said. “Please stay in here, where it is safe. Gregori and I can handle this.”

He could see her waffling, torn between wanting to stand up for herself and the need to protect her unborn child.

“If we need help, we will yell,” Gregori reassured her. “At which point, feel free to throw the teapot at it. It makes dreadful tea anyway.”

Jenna gave him a reluctant smile and the two men ducked out through the low doorway. For Day, it seemed almost like old times, and he felt a grin of his own spreading across his face as he and Gregori raced toward the lake.

They didn't have to go far before they came upon the monster. Its huge green-and-yellow-striped form rose at least ten feet above them, still dripping acrid water and draped with noxious crimson weeds from the shoreline. Jagged teeth gnashed at the air in front of them and clawed arms waved closer and closer, menacing them as it clomped its ponderous way in their direction. Its large tail, tipped with venomous spikes, slithered behind it, whipping to and fro as though it
had a mind of its own and intended to attack them too. Since this was the Otherworld, Day knew that was entirely possible.

Luckily, it appeared to be as stupid as it was large, and while it was certainly dangerous, its movements were slow and its reactions instinctive rather than the planned attack of a more cunning creature. It took Day and Gregori working in unison less than five minutes, dancing and weaving around it, hacking and slashing at its leathery hide until they finally wore it out and killed it.

Triumphant, albeit covered with yellow-tinged blood, they returned to the hut to tell Jenna the good news.

But when Day ducked back into the hut, the place was empty. Jenna was gone.“Shit,” Day said. “Jenna?” But she clearly wasn't there. Her bedroll was empty, and there was no sign of her. He'd told her to stay there because he'd assumed it was safe. Apparently he'd been wrong. Again.

“I don't think she left voluntarily,” Gregori said, pointing at faint signs on the floor. “These look like drag marks to me.”

When they ran outside, Day saw that the scuffed spots continued in the dirt in front of the hut, leading off into the direction opposite the one they'd just come from.

“Son of a bitch,” he said. “No wonder the creature wasn't more threatening; it was just supposed to be a distraction.”

“One that worked,” Gregori said, a touch grimly. “While we were off bouncing our swords against its tough hide, someone or a number of someones grabbed your girlfriend.”

They took off running toward where it looked as though Jenna had been taken. “She's not my girlfriend,” Day growled, his own voice sounding strange and hoarse to his ears. “And if they've harmed one hair on her head, they're going to pay, whoever they are.”

He and Gregori sprinted down a barely discernible trail, pushing aside lavender ferns and tall silvery grasses until they came upon a small break in the underbrush. Jenna was surrounded by a bunch of weedy little creatures like the ones who had attacked her before. She had clearly been putting up
a fight. More than one of her kidnappers was bleeding, and a couple of them had limbs that bent at angles it was unlikely even a Paranormal designer had in mind. But their superior numbers had gained them the upper hand, and a disheveled Jenna was fighting like a wild woman as two of the things held on to one arm each, attempting to hold her still enough for a third to put a bronze medallion over her head.

“Jenna!” Day yelled, and changed in midstep, feeling his spine crackle and expand while greenish fur crept down to cover his arms and hands, and probably other surfaces he couldn't see. Ignoring his brother's startled look, Day charged the huddle of creatures and tossed them around like so many rag dolls, a part of him rejoicing in the sound of their screams. Thankfully, there was enough of his rational brain left to bring him to a halt once the last one still capable of movement had run off.

Jenna stared at him with an expression that could easily be read as mixed relief and trepidation, and Gregori, his face as impassive as always, said in an awed voice, “My brother, are you aware that you are presently taking the form of a rather large and distinctly emerald-hued bear? Not that it isn't an improvement on your usual excessive good looks, but could you perhaps change back to what we laughingly refer to as normal? I believe you are alarming poor Jenna.”

“Not nearly as much as being hauled off by that bunch of undersized ninjas did,” Jenna said, although she gazed at Day with wide eyes and a cautious gaze. “What the hell was that thing they were trying to put on me?”

She bent down to pick up the medallion, which had been dropped into the dirt and left behind by her erstwhile captors, and Gregori shouted, “No! Don't touch it!”

Jenna backed away from the piece, still staring at Day. “Here I was thinking that I was Snow White, and it turns out that the story was
Beauty and the Beast
,” she said faintly. Then she passed out, crumpling to the ground in a heap.

*   *   *

JENNA
woke up back inside the now-familiar confines of the wooden hut to see Mick packing up their few belongings and Gregori sitting at the table examining the medallion with a fascinated expression. A small scroll and a pot of ink sat at his elbow, and a smudge of black ink adorned his wide nose. Mick was back to his usual gorgeous blond self, with nary a hint of green anywhere, and she noticed, as she watched them unobserved for the moment, that despite a few bruises, both men looked more cheerful than at any time she'd ever seen them.