Spirited Legacy (Lost Library) (33 page)

So the remainder of the process had been experimenting with increasing the amount of magic she took, always remaining conservative. They could certainly have finished the process much sooner, but everyone was happy the process had proceeded as smoothly as possible.

Lizzie had expected to meet an awake and alert Sarah when they’d finished. But Harry had called a halt long before she’d gained consciousness. Lizzie was confused that they would leave her in that state.

“Why are we stopping?” she asked worriedly.

Harry explained, “I think she’s fine now. We won’t know for sure until she wakes up, but she’s no longer in a coma. She’s currently in a restorative sleep, much like the very deep sleep you were in when you overused your magic.”

“You’re sure?” It seemed so anti-climactic. Sarah seemed much the same to her.

“I’m sure,” Harry assured her. And Harry was the expert.

So Lizzie had a few quiet words with Sarah privately, because she felt she should, and she’d left. She and John had more than earned the few weeks’ vacation that she’d pushed Harrington to give her. The dragons were staying, so security wasn’t an issue. Lachlan was even discussing a long-term contract that would keep a few dragons on site running security for the Library indefinitely. Lizzie suspected that had more to do with Heike and Ewan than with any desire Lachlan had to provide such a service. But it meant John had no commitment to Harrington that couldn’t be fulfilled long-distance. And, seriously, Lizzie had earned a little time with her wolf.

Just before she left, she took Harrington aside to discuss Matylda.

“We know her body is behind the wall.” Lizzie sighed. “Is there anything we can do for her? Provide her with a burial, maybe?”

“I had a little chat with Matylda,” Harrington said.

Lizzie looked at him incredulously. “When did that happen?”

“As soon as you found her. Late that night, when you were recovering. We talked about a possible burial. But you’re right, we can’t move her.” Harrington had hidden depths.

Lizzie wasn’t sure how he still surprised her. She should know by now to expect the unexpected.

“Is she okay with staying there?” She was all alone. It seemed wrong to leave her body in that tiny room. Lizzie looked down at the sapphire on her finger, a gift from Matylda.

“She is, because leaving her there means she can stay with the Library. No one knows how long she’ll be with us. But she does want to spend her time in the Library. And while it’s not certain that her physical remains tie her there, it’s the only reasonable conclusion at this time.” After a small hesitation, he said, “She also wants to spend more time with you. She’s certain you’re related, though she didn’t explain why.”

“Can you tell her I’m coming back?” Lizzie frowned, twisting the sapphire ring on her right hand. “Tell her I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to say goodbye.”

Harrington nodded solemnly. “I will.”

Chapter 40

O
n the flight home, John seemed to be traveling especially well. Lizzie didn’t comment, because to do so seemed to point out all the times he
didn’t
. So she just enjoyed her shared time with him. Harrington had splurged on a private plane for them, well—an IPPC plane—and they were flying home from London as the only two passengers.

When she’d taken the two weeks away from her internship, she’d simply told Harrington, “I deserve it after this mess, and I have family business to take care of.”

That was the understatement of the year. She could just envision how that first scene would play out.

Mom, Dad. I’m moving in with my boyfriend of a few weeks. And we’re sort of common law married. Exciting, right?
She’d never be that flippant, but if only she could be. Then the disappointed looks wouldn’t be so bad.

She turned to John. Before she could even begin, he said, “You look terrified.” He looked at her again then he modified his conclusion. “Or very worried, at least. What’s up?”

She probably smelled like stress. She still wasn’t sure how okay she was with the fact that her boyfriend could smell her emotions. No, not her boyfriend, her mate. She smiled. It felt good to say mate, even in her head, and mean it.

Damn. She probably smelled like nervous sweat.
Ew. How was that ever sexy?
But he swore that she smelled like heaven to him, and her emotions were just a tiny little overlay to the sweetness that was her. He really was a wonderful man. She smiled.

She shook her head. Mom and Dad. “My parents. I have no idea how to tell them I’m moving in with my boyfriend of a few weeks. A few weeks of crazily intense relationship-building, granted. But still only a few weeks.” John’s laugh interrupted her. “What?”

“Intense relationship-building? That’s what you call your life-threatening activities over the last several weeks?” John looked a little doubtful but amused.

“We’ve spent more time together than I can possibly imagine any normal couple managing in such a short time. What would you call it?” Lizzie wasn’t sure it mattered. Once she started down this path, disclosing her magic to her parents wasn’t far behind. And then they’d have to talk about who the skeleton in the closet was.

“Dating?” he said hopefully.

“Huh?”

“You asked what I’d call whatever it is that we’ve done over the last several weeks. I say we call it dating.” And he grinned.

Easy enough for him. His people knew about her, and they knew that she was a spell caster.
Good lord.
How was she supposed to break the whole, my-boyfriend’s-a-Lycan thing to her parents?

“I’m opting for radio silence. We don’t speak of it—any of it. I cannot tell my parents you’re Lycan. Or that I’m a spell caster.” Just saying it out loud to John made all the blood leave her head.

She chewed her lip while she waited for him to respond. He touched her lip with his thumb. She wanted to bite the pad of his thumb. What was it about him that made her want to bite, and scream, and yank his hair, and wrap her legs around him, and—she sighed. They were on a plane for goodness sakes.

And she lost her amorous glow when she heard his reply. “You’re being dishonest,” John pointed out gently.

She frowned at his words.

Seeing her look, he said, “You’re stressed out about your parents. If I had to guess, primarily because you’re considering being dishonest. Not something you’re comfortable with when it comes to people you love. Granted, it’s an omission, but still—it’s dishonest.” He paused, looking intently at her. “Tell them the truth.”

“That their little girl has magic and is dating a werewolf?’ She frowned even harder. “You’re not helping.”

“Be serious. You sit down and discuss the family tree. Someone, somewhere, is holding out on you. And your parents, for that matter. Magic can sometimes be finicky about where it lands. Hitting every generation, then skipping two. And someone failed in their duty by not informing your parents of their heritage.” He cocked his head. “You could even do a little genealogy research beforehand. It’s almost certain you’re related to the Kovar family. Maybe approach them with the guilty ancestor’s name in hand.”

“That is a good point. Not that I’m looking to blame them, but someone bound my magic. And someone should have released it. I’ll think about it some more.” She peeked up at him covertly. “But just to check, I can tell them about you?”

“I recommend it. You never know how they might be affected by our positions. And if they take it poorly—we just have them institutionalized.” His face looked bland. She was pretty sure he was kidding.

“You’re kidding, right? You
cannot
send my parents to a psych ward because they flip out over werewolves. Anyone would flip out.” She stopped and listened to herself. Speaking of insanity, this was an insane conversation. And it led nowhere good. “Okay. I’ll work on a plan to tell them. After we meet the pack.”

Epilogue

T
hey’d been back in Austin for only a few hours. Just long enough to unpack enough necessities from their bags for the night and think about sitting down for a few minutes. They discussed heading out to meet the pack, but decided they both needed a day to recover. And prepare. They agreed they’d head out early in the morning the day after tomorrow.

Lizzie had just crawled into bed, deciding she might give in to jet lag and take a nap—or not, she thought of John with a grin—when she’d felt the crinkle of paper under her pillow. She didn’t think anything of it, until the paper was in her hand and she’d read it three times.

If you act like a pretentious, self-important bitch, then we’ll treat you like one. Watch your back, little girl.

Reading the note one more time, Lizzie couldn’t help but think it might be real. It was basically a threat on her life. She huffed out a pent up breath of air. Or was it?
Shit.
They’d been in her house. She felt nauseous, her stomach churning with uncertainty.
In her home.
Strangers had been in her home.

John needed to know about this. Right now.

“John,” Lizzie called as she walked through the house. It was a stupid note. It could mean anything or nothing. But something about the note Lizzie gripped in her fingers made her sick. A feeling pushed at her, like someone was out there—somewhere in the world—hating her, wishing her ill. The vitriol of the author’s feelings seemed to have soaked into the paper. Because the words alone really weren’t that bad. Right? She was too tired for this shit.

“John,” she called a little more loudly. John had exceptional hearing. And she could feel the edge of panic in her voice. He would certainly have responded if he heard her. Where was he? He’d gotten a call from his uncle on the drive home from the airport. The conversation had been a little mysterious, and he hadn’t wanted to discuss it right then. Later, he’d said. Was he speaking with his uncle on the phone again?

Lizzie walked through the living room, heart thudding. He should have responded. Something was wrong. And then movement from the backyard caught her eye. Two wolves, crouched low, standing at opposite corners of the yard. The first was the familiar mottled grey, black, and white of John. The other…Lizzie swallowed reflexively. The other was a massive black wolf. Bigger than John.

The first coherent thought Lizzie had was a flashback to the conversation they’d had on the plane about masking scent and scent voids. John would have known if a stranger had been in her home. The note, and now, the strange wolf—had the wolf’s scent been masked? Could there be another wolf that John didn’t know about? That’s what had happened in Freiburg. It was the unexpected appearance of two wolves that had given John’s enemies a temporary edge.

She wasn’t sure if she had time, but she needed to know if the black wolf had brought reinforcements. She took a breath, and brought herself back to the present and away from the edge of panic. She yanked her magic to her, did some rapid calculations, improvised, braced herself against the nearest wall, and then—she exhaled. She imagined that breath slowly spreading snowflakes, small pieces of her sensing ward, across the entirety of the house. It was a massive cast, and she wasn’t sure if it was diffuse enough or delivered with enough care to prevent a correspondingly large repercussion.

She was so immersed in the cast and its results, she only vaguely recognized how incredible it was that the cast functioned as she intended—and she was uninjured in the process.

There was only the one wolf, the one facing John in her backyard. He was covered in spell caster magic, but there was no spell caster present. Leaning against the wall, her mind trying to process what exactly she’d just done—that she’d cast a huge sensing ward and it had worked—it took her a moment before she was able to move. Dammit. John was facing that massive wolf in the yard alone; she didn’t have time to dither.

She lifted her hand and inspected the mild tremor. Not good, but good enough—if she hurried. Walking with calm deliberation, mentally pushing herself to slow her breathing and her pounding heart, she went to the hall closet. After a brief search, she pulled out the .357 Magnum she’d recently acquired. She’d never been much for guns, but she was discovering that in this new life she’d entered—things change.

***The End***

Glossary of Some Things Magical

Alpha:
Titular head of
a group of Lycan. The level of authority and function of an Alpha varies by pack with some Alphas acting as politicians, others as military commanders. The Texas pack is less traditional and is governed by both a council and an Alpha. Idaho’s Alpha governs more as a benevolent dictator utilizing a military-like structure.

Enforcer:
A traditional role in a Lycan pack. Similar to a bodyguard, enforcers are frequently used as both protection and status symbols by Alphas when traveling on foreign pack soil. The Texas Pack enforcers were assigned to protect the Alpha foremost, then the Council of Elders, both within pack boundaries and abroad.

Ghost:
Remnant energy, left after a magic-user dies. Also described as the energy that persists beyond the existence of the living physical body. Occurs only in rare cases. It is believed that energy assumes an ability to think and act consciously.

Healer:
A type of magic-user whose talents allow them to magically heal. Healing abilities vary between individuals, but the most common abilities found are helping injuries to heal faster. Healing illness is a very rare talent. They are the only talent group to have commonly held ethical guidelines by which most abide, crossing cultural and geographic boundaries.

Inter-Pack Policing Cooperative or IPPC:
A cross-territorial
policing organization created initially by cooperating Lycan packs and joined by members of several other talent groups, including spell casters, and healers.

Lost Library:
Located within an historic house in Prague, formerly the Kovar family home. The Library contains the greatest known collection of spelled books. Historically, it was controlled by one or more powerful spell caster families, most recently the Kovar family. Possession of the Library and the secret of its location was lost over a hundred years ago.