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Embrace the Wind Page 2
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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 sp
elled 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.
Here was the poorest section of the city, where Invictus often preyed on prostitutes and drug addicts, usually drinking them to death. Drugs in his realm had become as much of a problem as they were in the U.S., especially with the introduction of cocaine into the Nine Realms.
Every major city seemed to have an area like this one, full of druggies, women working for their abusive pimps, and the homeless.
Three vehicles had crashed, one of them torched by laughing bystanders. At least a hundred Realm-folk were enthralled by the wind, most of them either fist-fighting with each other or breaking the windows of nearby stores and offices. The rest were too drunk to do much moving around.
A golden glow lit up the north end of the club strip. As he drew within a hundred yards, he saw that the gold light surrounded a beautiful fae woman. And there she was, the scourge of the Nine Realms: Margetta.
His instincts had been dead on: the Ancient Fae had come to Swanicott.
Several Invictus pairs were already feeding on a group of drunken trolls, draining them. And the Realm-folk in the area, enthralled by the wind, seemed oblivious to the presence of the vicious wraiths and their bonded mates or to Margetta.
As he drew closer still, what he saw next distressed him more than anything else he’d seen. Several wraith youths were under the spell of a powerful Invictus wraith, the kind that could help create the dreaded pairs. The young wraiths had probably snuck away from Wraith Island to have some fun on the mainland, not understanding how quickly Margetta and her troops could enslave wraiths to do their bidding. In truth, these innocent wraiths were as much victims as the Realm-folk with which they forged the heinous bond.
Margetta was training her forces well.
Needing to keep his hands free in order to do battle, he used telepathy to contact his Communication Center. Hey, Marian, you there?
Yes, Mastyr, came back at him quickly.
We’ve got a bad situation on the ground. He told her about Margetta, the number of Realm-folk in the area, and the looting. And I’m also watching three wraith youths turning Realm-folk into bonded pairs as we speak. Zane looked into the night sky. Contact Chase and see if he can get any closer. I was able to use my battle energy to break through Margetta’s spell.
Will do.
He waited until Marian’s telepathic voice flowed through his head once more. Chase says he’s a half mile away but he can’t move past the barrier. He wants to know if he should try his battle frequency.
Tell him yes.
He hovered in the air, waiting, but his mind filled with sudden fury at what he saw. He’d lost so many Realm-folk from Invictus depredations, including his wife. And now Margetta had just turned up the heat.
Marian returned. Chase said he tried his battle energy but nothing happened. The resistance remained.
So Zane was on his own. Okay. Let Chase know that I’m going in right now. Maybe I can do something to break up the spell.
Marian pathed, Chase will want to know exactly where to move in should the spell give way. What’s your location?
He gave the major cross-streets.
Got it. Now, go get ‘em, Mastyr.
Ramping up his battle energy, Zane knew what he needed to do. He levitated, extending himself facedown, then angled to fly straight at an enthralled wraith youth engaged in forging an Invictus bond with one of the female trolls. The wraith was draining some of his blood into what looked like a beer can, probably now empty. It was an inelegant approach, but Zane knew it would get the job done. All the wraith had to do was extract some of the troll’s blood, add it to the can, and blend the both together. Each would take a few sips of the combined blood and the bond would forge quickly. Within moments, the Invictus bond would be complete.
The simplicity of the process had been one reason the number of wraith-pairs continued to advance steadily.
When he got close, he flipped in the air and slammed his feet into the back of the male wraith. The troll flopped sideways, falling to the ground, but the momentum of his strike forced the wraith headlong into a bonded shifter and another wraith.
And the battle was on.
He erected his blue battle shield and let heavy pulses of his hand-frequency fly at the enemy. The already bonded wraith fell, the shifter with him, both dead.
He turned around and saw three incoming wraith-pairs. He gathered his energy and in a new set of quick pulses fired at each of the wraiths in turn.
Red streaks of energy came back at him, swift and heavy. But he wasn’t a mastyr for nothing and his shield held so that the wraith frequencies ricocheted off harmlessly.
The pairs surrounded him, trying to gain the advantage. He spun swiftly as he fought since his back was unprotected.
A wraith went down and as usually happened, the bonded mate fell at the same time.
Managing two pairs was easier, but the street was very open. It was hard to keep from taking a hit with no other Guardsmen to protect his vulnerable backside.
But he moved fast and at times flew straight up, disrupting the enemy’s game plan.
The second wraith went down, his female shifter mate with him. Knowing that Margetta was nearby and that the chaos wind still blew, he battled hard to bring the last pair down.
At the same time, he heard shouting, breaking glass, and loud whoops that had more to do with looting than anything else.
When he dropped the last wraith, he turned toward the wind and a terrible sight met his eyes: At least a dozen wraith pairs headed straight for him and he had no backup in sight.
And Margetta’s wind still kept his Guardsmen at bay.
~
Olivia didn’t want this to be on her, but something had gone wrong at Britchett Falls that she didn’t understand. Where were the rest of the Guardsmen? Zane was strong, but he could hardly battle so many Invictus pairs by himself.
She sensed he’d communicated telepathically with someone, maybe gaining an understanding of the situation. But she hadn’t been privy to the conversation. Though she had a number of powers, intercepting telepathy wasn’t one of them.
As much as she didn’t want to get involved, or even to show herself to Mastyr Zane, she couldn’t remain by and let him perish. She had to turn wolf and do what she could to rescue him. But would she reach him in time? Though her ‘ghost’ was with Zane, her body was still in Barker’s Bend a hundred-and-fifty miles away.
She withdrew from her tracking position so that now she was once more consciously on her porch. She never shifted in public and wasn’t sure if her cloak would hold so she ran through the house to the backyard. Extending her arms, she let her shifting vibration flow. The moon was on the horizon, full and beautiful, and a howl left her throat.
The fur on the back of her hands and on her chest and lower abdomen began to spread, absorbing her clothes and transforming her. The experience of becoming wolf was erotic and thrilling. As her hands became thick padded paws and her shoulders grew in mass, she slowly lowered herself to the lawn.
Already, her nose sniffed out the different scents, separating them like a very fine comb. Because Zane had been at the bar so recently, his grassy scent rose to the forefront.
She could sense him as well, feeling with every shifter bone in her body exactly where he was and that he was still alive; he’d been captured in Britchett Falls and was being moved to a different location. And whoever had him was moving fast.
>
She had to get to Zane, to protect him, to save him if she could.
Once completely transformed, she leaped over the fence of her yard, but didn’t land on the street. Instead, power flowed through her as never before and she remained bounding in the air for at least a half mile.
She’d traveled Swanicott many times in shifter form, but not like this, with a vibration taking her over, giving her distance and tremendous speed.
She finally landed with a strong slam of paws to earth, then another massive bound. She flew above the treetops, this time extending farther than a mile as she sailed through the air.
In that way, she began to gather up the miles quickly, so that even the wind couldn’t touch her. Her bounds lengthened, until they were two miles long and faster than a Harley gathering speed.
On she ran, her entire being fixed on Zane’s location from moment to moment. His captors were moving incredibly fast, which probably meant that Margetta had control of him and somehow was using her power to whisk him to another part of the realm. Very few in the Nine Realms could move at that speed. Zane could; Olivia as well. But wherever the Ancient Fae was taking him in Swanicott would be akin to a stronghold.
Olivia sensed the moment Zane was spirited across the Arundel Mountains.
She’d also reached the mountain range and bounded from one clear spot of forest, to a gathering of boulders, to a shallow valley, to another forest clearing and on and on until she was on the western slopes. She kept moving, especially when she felt that Zane’s position finally grew static. Now that Margetta had control of him, Olivia could only imagine what the Ancient Fae intended to do next.
Extending her senses, she could feel that he’d been taken to a rugged coastal area where few farms and no towns to speak of existed: Angler’s Cliff.
She raced along, knowing that the lengthening of each bound and the speed she traveled was beyond what any shifter in the Nine Realms could do. Or even vampires since she’d covered two hundred miles in barely twenty minutes. She’d moved like the wind.
For a brief moment, though, her heart sank. She’d been different her entire life and it seemed even in the Nine Realms, she wouldn’t be normal either.