The Mating Season: Werewolves of Montana Book 6 (25 page)

Already she felt the strength leaving her limbs. Instinctively she knew if she remained, she would be forever lost.

Tristan clasped her hand, his mouth trembling. “Not an option. She could have passed through that gate prior to her body changing. Now, she cannot get through. She is neither flesh nor spirit, but turning to shadow. My only chance of saving her is to get her through the Dark Gate before sunset.”

Drust’s blue gaze flicked to Tristan. “Not a wise option. The Shadow Eaters gather at twilight at the Dark Gate. You don’t have much time if you are to take her. The gate’s location is always changing from one day to the next. But I know a way there for this day.”

“What are Shadow Eaters? They don’t sound good,” she asked.
Not that this is much better…

Tristan turned to her. “Cannibals. Consumers of flesh and guardians of the Dark Gate at night. At night in this world, the Dark Gate turns from the gate granting access to Tir Na-nog into the portal where the damned are forced to enter the Dark Lands. Hell.”

Nikita felt her stomach pitch and roll.

“Your flesh would be quite a delicacy, Tristan,” Drust pointed out. “If you dare risk it, and you’re caught, they will eat you alive. They can’t resist mortal flesh, and immortal flesh is like steak to a starving man.”

He gave him a level look. “Take the dragon’s scale.”

Tristan nodded and craned his neck skyward. “We may need it as a diversion. We have only a little time. The Shadow Eaters appear only at dusk.”

“Unless someone tells them.”

He cocked a dark eyebrow at his friend. “I gather you will not do so, and put your own spirit at forfeit, Drust. I will not tell if you do not.”

“Fine with me.”

Tristan lifted her into his arms. “We must hurry.”

Niki had never felt so weary in her life. Time seemed clouded here and yet the passage of the day was clearly marked by the sun traveling across the sky. It hung lower now, but Tristan assured her they were close to the gate.

Walking ahead of them, Drust entered a forest of stubby, twisted trees. The very ground beneath them seemed torn and dry and cracked, as if it was cursed.

And then she saw ahead a pool of water, only this one was a deep, clear blue, like a fresh water spring.

“The water changes at night,” Tristan murmured. “And when it comes time for a soul to pass through, the water turns to fire.”

Remind me to bring an extinguisher.
The thought did nothing to cheer her, or push aside the constant feeling of trepidation. Though no one else was at the spring, she sensed a presence.

Drust pressed on until they reached two trees that stretched almost to the sky. “The gate,” he announced.

As Tristan set her gently down on the ground, Drust turned and looked at them. “Before we do this, my old friend, allow me to help you find the one who did betray you, and killed Nikita and your child.”

“I am damn certain it was Mara, for she was jealous of Nikita. It is a delicate, diplomatic matter I shall have to handle myself. But thank you,” he told Drust.

Tristan waved a hand and the pool of water became like fire. “It is time, Nikita,” he said solemnly.

But instead of the relief she’d expected, the hairs on her nape saluted the air. Tristan released a low curse. They all turned at the crackling of branches underneath heavy footsteps.

Someone had indeed betrayed them, for stepping out from the trees were not two, but four Shadow Eaters. They turned avidly towards her, their whispers stinging her ears.

“It is far too soon for them to arrive. Someone alerted them to our presence.” Drust backed away.

“Mortal,” one whispered. “Flesh.
Fresh flesh
.”

It grinned, showing sharp rows of jagged teeth stained with old blood.

It headed straight for her.

Chapter 14

Even her worst nightmares could not compare to the horror of the keepers of the Dark Gate. Drawing on all her strength, she struggled to remain standing.

The Shadow Eaters were skeleton-thin, with skin like desiccated liver she’d once eaten, so thin she could see the ribcages and joints of their bones. Red eyed, they had serrated teeth and the foul stench emanating from them smelled like rotting flesh.

“Let me distract them with this,” Drust told Tristan, holding out the dragon’s scale.

The dragon boldly walked up to the first wraith. “Let us pass. We offer payment, and it is not the time of the Dark Gate to manifest itself as the gate to the Dark Lands.”

One took the diamond scale from Drust, turning it over. “It has power,” it trilled in a thin, nasal voice. “Such power, with the blood and living flesh still attached. We crave flesh.”

Another wraith looked at Drust with its cold, empty eye sockets. “For your payment, you may pass.”

The four wraiths examined the scale and began to argue over tasting it.

“Hurry,” Drust urged. “They’re distracted.”

But as they started for the pool, the wraiths looked up and hissed. “Not the rest of you. Only the dragon.”

Drust hesitated on the edge of the pond. “The girl, at least, goes with me. The scale is for us both.”

A wraith stretched out a long claw. “We shall take the wizard. He is immortal and holds much power. Very tasty.”

“Go,” Tristan yelled, and then he pushed Drust.

Light exploded before her eyes as the dragon entered the gate. As Tristan went to push her into the water, she struggled against him. “Not without you!”

“No! Go, Nikita, before they discover your mortality,” he hissed.

But she dug in her heels and then the wraiths surrounded them. One yanked Tristan backwards as another gripped her wrist. Gorge rose in her throat. She struggled against retching from the stench of the wraith.

Tristan conjured a knife and sliced his arm. The four Shadow Eaters stilled.

“My blood and my flesh hold immortal power. Take me,” Tristan roared.

The wraith holding Nikita captive released her as all four converged on Tristan. They pulled him downward, opening the red slits of their mouths.

And they began to devour him alive. Tristan screamed.

Heart beating like a war drum, she looked around for a weapon, for anything to draw them off. Panic made it difficult to breathe.
Think, think!

Flesh. They craved flesh. Searching the ground, she found the knife Tristan dropped.

This must work.

One Shadow Eater began to gnaw on Tristan’s arm. He struggled harder. And then his wild, tormented gaze met hers.

She felt an anguish and pain so deep, it was as if the Eaters consumed
her
alive, not Tristan. And then she knew he had suffered this before.

Many times.

No!

“Nikita.” Tristan’s voice was hoarse. “Do not give them what they crave, lest you release a beast. They will never forget the taste of mortal flesh, and will hunger for it all their days.”

But she could not stand by and wring her hands while this courageous wizard, who had done so much to aid her, was torn apart. Even if his body would mend, what about his spirit?

Danu, make my hand steady and my aim quick. Give me the courage to do this to save him.

Niki bit her lip to stifle the scream. The cut was swift, and on target. White-hot pain lanced her as she sliced off her pinkie. She ran toward the four wraiths. One straddled Tristan and was about to consume his face. Her wizard bellowed in agony as another began to tear into his leg with sharp, jagged teeth.

Then all four stopped at the scent of her blood, looked up and swiveled their heads toward her.

“Flesh. Sweet, living flesh,” one crooned.

Niki tossed her finger away. The wraiths, eager for the treat, rose off Tristan and raced after it. With her uninjured hand, she pulled him upward.

Silver blood streamed down his face. Half his nose was missing, his lips were torn and bloodied, and his earlobes were ribbons of flesh. He ran/limped with her toward the blue pool.

“Together,” he said. “Where you go, I go.”

“Together,” she told him. “Where you go, I go!”

They jumped into the pool, and water washed over her in a soothing blanket.

It did not burn, nor hurt. All she felt was the same whooshing sensation as when she’d fallen into the pond back at her ranch. But this time, she was not alone. Tristan kept a secure grip on her hand and the comfort of his touch grounded her.

When they landed, it was upon a soft bed of the greenest moss she’d ever seen. Niki blinked hard, woozy, but the pain of her finger had vanished. She felt stronger and healed.

She wriggled her fingers. All of them were on her left hand and all had turned back to flesh. Niki looked at her arms. They were normal skin tone. It was as if she’d never cut off her finger. Tristan too, had healed.

“How did this happen?” she asked.

“In the afterworld of Tir Na-nog, one is easily healed.”

But flickering in his eyes was the darkness she’d glimpsed before the Shadow Eaters descended on him. The memories could not be as easily healed.

“You should not have done that.”

The distant note back in his deep voice, Tristan looked as remote and forbidding as he had in the past. The Silver Wizard had returned, pushing aside the Tristan she had known who watched over her steps.

“I would not see them tear into you. Again.” She picked up his smooth, healed hand and kissed each knuckle. “I could not bear it. It was worth the agony of my pain to distract them.”

And then something inside him seemed to crumble, like stone walls collapsing on a sturdy tower.

“Ah, Nikita.” He sounded broken as he smoothed back her hair, kissing her now healed and restored finger. “My poor, brave Lupine. You gave yourself to save me. A blood debt that I cannot repay. An act that will have dire consequences in the future, I fear. You are a true warrior princess of old.”

She touched his healed mouth. “No. I’m Niki, a Lupine of this century. Not a warrior princess. But a Lupine who will not abide another’s suffering.”

Her voice went soft. “Especially yours.”

For a moment he stood there, rubbing his cheek against her hand, his eyes closed. Then he straightened and looked like the Silver Wizard once more. Tristan pointed to the forest.

“The entrance to my home is there.”

“Where is Drust?”

“He has gone ahead on his own journey. Come, my sweet.”

They walked a few yards before reaching the gate. The portal was more of a fairy gate, with mossy green tree limbs arced to form a long tunnel. A glowing yellow and green light pulsed at the end. Enchanted, she glanced down at the stepping stones that led to the light. Each one was framed in green with runes scratched upon the surface. The air smelled of pine and fragrant musk. Her wolf senses pricked with awareness, but no sense of danger loomed here.

Only a deep peace and dawning feel of excitement.

“It’s like coming home,” she marveled.

Tristan nodded, his mouth tight. “My home.”

But not hers. She belonged to the land of the living, and could not remain here for more than ten days with him, unless she drank the potion of the Blood Moonflower.

Clasping her hand, he walked with her to the gate. Warm, fragrant air washed over her as they traversed the stepping stones. There was no tugging sensation, nor the horror and panic she’d felt when she’d nearly been sucked down into the swamp waters in the Shadow Lands. Nothing but a feeling of utter peace and joy.

When they cleared the gate, she saw a stretch of golden meadow, and a distant forest. Birds sang as they flew overhead, and she saw a crystal clear stream cutting through the meadow.

Tristan turned to her, a soft smile on his handsome face. “Welcome home, my sweet.”

She had no memory of this place, yet her wolf senses tugged playfully, urging her to shift. “Can I turn into my wolf here?”

He nodded. “Lupines are granted a brief stay in Tir Na-nog, but only as wolf. I granted this to Kyle and Arianna when they needed to heal. But because we are here, in the magick of my home, you may assume whatever form you wish—Skin or Lupine.”

Niki poked his arm. “Shift with me. Let’s run!”

The change came over her swiftly, so fast she was barely aware of it. But unlike shifting to wolf on Earth, here her senses were already empowered. The grass smelled ripe and the air was pure and cool against her nose as she raced across the field.

Looking backward, she saw a silver wolf, large as a small pony, hot on her heels. Giving a joyous yip, she dodged and darted through the meadow, thrilling to the chase. Her instincts recognized the silver wolf as one who would never hurt her, for he was her mate.

Niki saw a translucent bubble floating on the wind and gave chase, her jaws snapping, her paws thudding hard against the ground. The bubble exploded, releasing a tiny sprite, who darted around her muzzle like a blue-green, blinking firefly.

“Welcome, Nikita,” it trilled.

“You talk?” she asked. “But you don’t bite, or do you?”