Embrace the Wind (2 page)

And how they suffered.

He kept looking her direction while revving his bike, but she knew he couldn’t see her. She wore her cloaking frequency, or at least that’s what she called it. She couldn’t remember exactly when she’d discovered she could hide herself from the world around her, but that day had given her some of the first peace she’d known in her twenty-seven years.

Growing up in a small New England town, and constantly sprouting fur, had been a difficult experience. The Nine Realms had only become known to the States three decades prior, around which time some damn Realm shifter had shown up, taken her mother for a joy ride, and Olivia had been the result.

She hadn’t truly understood how different she was until it was time to attend public school.

She’d been so excited at first because she wanted to be with other kids, have lots of friends. And though some of the children had quickly gotten past her fur, most of their parents were horrified by her half-breed DNA and prevented the attachments. She essentially grew up without friends and as the years advanced, the taunts became increasingly cruel.

She’d lived a very isolated life in Maine and as a teen, boyfriends had been few and far between. She would have moved to Swanicott sooner, but by her early twenties, her mother had been diagnosed with cancer. Olivia had stuck with her for years, taking care of her for a long time until finally her beloved parent had left the earth.

Nine months ago, Olivia had finally made the leap and moved to Swanicott Realm.

She’d hoped her new life in a land full of shifters would be different. But she’d lived so long in isolation, she found it hard to reach out to others, even to her own kind. She still didn’t have a true friend, someone she hung out with. But then life had mostly taught her to be wary of others so she held back. That she had special abilities even by Realm standards hadn’t helped her to jump into Swanicott society.

The problem had always been that just about any strong emotion brought out her wolf. She glanced down at her fingers. The moment Zane had arrived at the Elf Lords Hideaway and because of her powerful attraction to him, she’d sprouted silvery gray fur across the backs of both hands, long enough to cover the first set of knuckles.

She’d also sprouted a thick fur ruff that ran from the opposite ends of her collarbone and extended in a V down her chest to frame her cleavage. When she was completely unclothed, a similar line of fur ran from one hip bone to the other. What remained of her trimmed pubic hair matched the fur, even though she was otherwise a very blond woman.

She wondered what Mastyr Zane would think of her markings.

Ah, Zane.

He looked hot as hell sitting on his cherry red bike.

He had his long leather coat folded up and strapped to the back, which gave her a solid view of his broad shoulders. He wore snug black leather pants and hip boots, as all the Guardsmen did. Although in Zane’s case, a long row of silver skulls ran the entire outer seam of each boot. A diamond stud winked on his left earlobe and more often than she cared to admit, she’d imagined taking that lobe in her mouth and feeling the stud against her tongue.

But if the diamond wasn’t enough, he had a sexy tattoo along the right side of his neck that weakened her knees: a dagger and three red drops of blood.

Zane was all man.

He was good-looking as well, with clear blue eyes, strong, arched brows, and a tough jawline frequently covered in an attractive scruff. He had long black Guardsman hair that he wore in a woven clasp, very traditional for the Realm’s premier fighting force. All the Guardsmen grew their hair out and she loved the look.

He was a tall, muscular man and the shifter part of her could look at him for hours.

As Zane revved his bike again, she sat down on the front porch of her home, preparing herself to make use of yet another strange power she possessed. In addition to cloaking herself, she could track along with Zane wherever he went in the realm, without ever leaving her house. She called the power ‘ghosting’, because she felt like a spirit when she made use of it, traveling with Zane completely apart from her corporeal self.

As he took off, the rumble of his bike blasted the small, two-lane street.

She followed along, ghosting with him as though living inside his mind, seeing everything that he saw and hearing every sound that hit his eardrums.

The forest opened up to a level but rocky stretch of land, the road narrowing to a single-lane. Much of Swanicott was in a rough state, something she also loved about this realm, from the rugged beaches to the tall mountains.

Zane slowed, taking an even narrower side path, no doubt because he enjoyed the challenge of navigating a more difficult trail.

Though she remained cloaked on the porch, she traveled on and on with him, her heart beating hard in her chest.

She loved this part of the journey, with Maris Luna off his right shoulder, as well as a cliff that dropped sharply to the beach fifty feet below. On his left, a grassy incline led to a ridge and more mixed forest, some of the trees in autumn splendor and the pines majestic and dark green. Huge gray boulders jutted everywhere.

All the while, the ocean glittered beneath a large moon.

She didn’t know how it was possible, but she saw everything through her ghosting vision as though the world was lit in a warm glow. Of course, her shifter vision was similar so that when she took on her wolf form and ran, she could see the land around her in the same way. Her human vision was less useful, night being just plain dark.

The narrow trail had lots of dips and rises, twists and turns, but Zane took it at top speed. She sensed his excitement, which ramped up her own.

She followed a number of Realm blogs that kept her informed about all aspects of Zane’s life, including his love of motorcycles. When she moved to Swanicott, she’d read everything written about him.

She knew that Zane was still sad about having lost his wife. His grief explained a lot about his behavior as did his constant concern for the safety of his people. The problem was that Olivia knew something about Zane’s wife that troubled her deeply. She just didn’t know when or if she should ever tell the Mastyr of Swanicott the truth since this wasn’t her information to share.

Contrary to the evidence of so much blood left behind in Zane’s home, Emily hadn’t died in an Invictus attack. Instead, she was alive and well, living in the small town of Freeport, Maine, where Olivia had grown up, and had done so for the past five years. She owned a thriving art gallery and was building a solid reputation as a landscape artist.

Before Olivia had come to Swanicott, she’d happened on the gallery and using her cell had snapped a few photos, including several of the artist herself. Only later, after cruising the Realm internet had she discovered the identity of the woman: Zane’s wife, Emily.

Olivia knew all about the bloody kitchen floor, which had led her to conclude that the woman had faked her own death, left Swanicott, and started a new life in the U.S. But why she had abandoned a man of Zane’s character and worth made no sense at all. Olivia thought him one of the finest men she’d ever known. He was physically powerful, held strong values, and was completely devoted to serving his realm.

What else could a woman possibly need?

Suddenly, Zane began to slow, then came to a halt, his muscular legs spread wide to keep the heavy bike balanced and upright.

She wondered if he sensed an Invictus presence in the vicinity. But when he reached into his pants pocket, she realized his phone was ringing.

Before he answered, however, he turned to look behind him, then slowly took in the entire landscape all the way to his right. Olivia saw the same three-sixty view as he carefully scanned the terrain. He was out in the open and exposed. But at least he’d be able to see anyone coming since there was no place on this cliff-top path to hide.

~

Zane pulled out his cell. Marian was on the line, the woman who headed up his Communication Center.

“Hey, short stuff.”

She giggled. “I’m a troll. I’m supposed to be short. Tell me something I don’t know.” She was good-natured, but she also knew how to crack the whip when necessary.

“Aw, you know I love to hear you laugh. So, what’s the word?” He tried to be upbeat. But when Marian called, he knew he wouldn’t be uncorking a bottle of champagne anytime soon.

“Sorry, chief, but we’ve got a chaos wind in Britchett Falls.”

Damn. The chaos winds were the latest curse in his realm and usually meant a world of hurt for the Realm-folk involved. They’d started up the day after he’d returned from Ashleaf Realm, about a month ago. The winds were a phenomenon that lived up to the name he’d given it, creating chaos wherever it showed up. The troubling nature of the wind resulted in a kind of mania that allowed the wraith-pairs to move in and hurt a lot of innocent Realm-folk. He wasn’t sure where they came from, but he suspected the worst; Margetta was making a play for his realm.

He repressed a sigh. “Where are we at? Is Chase or Sawyer on this?” His two lieutenants kept the Guard moving where they needed to be throughout the night.

“Chase is already at Britchett Falls, but he wants you over there, ASAP. He has his Guard force ready to do battle, but this time it seems that the wind is preventing his troops from getting into the city.”

Great. A new nightmare.

“And where’s Sawyer?”

“All the way south at Helm’s Watch.”

“I’m on my way to Britchett Falls. And I want another twenty Guardsmen heading there now.”

“Already sent the orders.”

“You called for twenty?” He laughed to himself at her audacity. Twenty was spot on, exactly the number he would have called for.

“Sure did,” she responded. “I know you, Mastyr, or would you have ordered anything different?”

“You know, you’re getting a swelled head.”

She giggled again. “But I was right.”

“I’m going to tell that shifter you’re dating to take you down a peg or two.”

“Hey, you butt out of my affairs. The last time you said anything to him, he trembled for days.”

Zane threw his head back, roaring his laughter. “I’d like to see any shifter trembling for even a minute, let alone days.”

“Get moving, vampire.”

Zane chuckled as he slid his cell back into his pocket. But his amusement died quickly. Damnit, he’d have to fly, which meant leaving his bike in the nearby woods. He might as well put a sign on it:
Take all the parts you want, you cheap-ass, forest pricks.

The gremlins in any realm thought thievery the highest form of art as well as an honorable mode of existence.

He muttered a few curse words.

The forest wasn’t far away. He rode for another hundred yards and found an animal trail heading toward the woods. He took the path, grumbling, but it would be worse to leave his almost-brand-new Valkyrie out in the open. The forest offered at least some protection, however meager.

He shouldn’t have bought a red bike, either. The color was like a beacon to any Realm person looking for a quick steal.

Ah, well. He didn’t really have a choice.

He drove up and a down a few low hills and shallow ravines. He parked the bike beneath a gold-leafed ash, one brilliant moment of autumn splendor.

He unpacked his leather Guard coat and slipped it on. The sleeveless but well-padded coat buttoned in the front. He wore a thick weapons belt over it, which was angled like a sash. He’d had the strap modified to support three small, thin daggers. They’d saved his life more than once.

He sighed as he took one last look at the Valkyrie. He had little hope it would be in one piece when he returned.

Then he took to the skies.

He flew faster than all other Realm-folk because of his heightened mastyr power.

He left the southern end of a long inlet that gave Swanicott a kidney-bean shape. He flew over Maris Luna and the western portion of Wraith Island for at least twenty miles, then another stretch of ocean. His built-in vampire guidance kept him on track. All he had to do was picture the end point and his internal navigation kicked into high gear. It never led him astray.

He quickly passed over miles of rough, rocky ground punctuated with strips of forest and dozens of hamlets. Every farm he saw had been cultivated from centuries of hard labor, with rocks cleared from the soil by the wagon full. It was no wonder most of the homes and fences were made of the same stones.

As he neared one of the larger towns, he noted that his Shifter Brigade was working the surrounding land, also hunting for Invictus signs. Two shifters were battling one of the vicious bonded wraith-pairs. If he hadn’t been headed to Britchett Falls, he would have stopped to help if needed. Shifters were fierce warriors, given to fighting almost as naturally as Zane was.

Instead, he shot past them, rising higher into the air. The closer he drew to Britchett Falls, the northernmost city in his realm, the more his anxiety grew. The Invictus had always been more active in his realm than any other. But in the past couple of weeks, he’d noticed an increased amount of wraith-pair attacks, usually as part of the chaos winds.

Because his troops couldn’t get past the wind to do battle, Zane finally faced the hard fact that Margetta had to be in his realm.

As he flew over the three main high-rise buildings of Britchett Falls, he passed the center of the city. At the same time, he felt a resistance to forward movement and slowed to levitate in place. This was what Chase must have encountered. At the same time, he caught Margetta’s sickly sweet smell. She was no doubt the cause not just of the wind, but what felt like a spelled boundary to the area.

He moved forward slowly and kept pushing against the spell. When he couldn’t move any farther, he finally wound up his battle frequency and let it fly in a blue arc of power. He watched small bursts of fireworks and a rippling of red waves fly through the air. Testing the spell, he found his power had disrupted it and he began to fly in the direction of the chaos wind.

He picked up speed and was soon traveling above the two-mile-long strip of clubs that started with several excellent high-end musical venues and ended with a few down-and-out joints near adjacent, rundown buildings.