Revenant (22 page)

Can I risk not?

And what is this trauma she spoke of? Something I must endure, survive. Whatever it is, I can face it. As long as I have Sage at my side. I stroke his fur again. I will save him. There has to be a way. And this train ride, then another, linked to another, will take me where I need to go.

To her. To Syd. She will save him.

The sun rises in the east, lighting the sky of the eighth day. And I choose Sage. For now. But Cicero Caine and his little pack can watch their backs. Because I will return to my homeland. I will free my grandfather. And if I’m too late, I will avenge him in blood and fire.

###

Now, for the first chapter

in the final book of the Hayle Coven Universe

Lychos Cycle

 

Lychos

The small car smells of cat urine and spoiled milk. I ignore the stench, absorbed instead in the feeling of witch magic pulsing from the tree line before me. A secluded lane more often visited by young lovers offers shelter as I block off my magic even further, just in case.

The big, black wolf shifts beside me, whining softly as his tongue makes a noisy journey across his chops. My fingers find the crescent shape of white fur on his shoulder and dig in. Sage loves it when I scratch the scar, moaning his lupine happiness at the attention, though he is as intent as I am.

I haven’t lost him. His mind remains intact, despite his transformation. We’ve come so far, he and I, the young, normal man I loved first bitten by a werewolf, made a revenant hated and feared by my people. I watched him, in our journey to find a cure to his condition, turn slowly from human to werewolf, without a trace of the tainted darkness that is the revenant’s trademark. The very reason my people’s werelaws demand his death.

Sage turns to meet my eyes, his still the beautiful sea-green, though with the shape and depth of a wolf’s. I can see the man he is inside him still, though I was certain his humanity would be gone forever. When he finally shifted into wereshape in the hills of southern California, just a few days ago, he felt perfect to me, more perfect than any werewolf I’ve ever met. The Hensley coven leader, Tallah, had surmised he is, rather than a soulless monster to be despised and dispatched, instead the next evolution of the werenation.

I can’t help but agree with her. Though we have been unable to reverse his transformation from full wolf back to human, the typical loss of self to animal that usually occurs to us hasn’t happened to my darling Sage. I feared that was the case, that I would lose him even when I fought so hard to keep him with me. Gave up everything I loved and the duty and honor my family demanded of me, to save him. It didn’t seem fair we’d come so far only for Sage to devolve into the intelligence of a common wolf. Yes, they are brilliant, but they are animals.

My body reacts by scrunching low as I feel an Enforcer’s power slip over our hiding place. The guardians of the North American Witch Council have been hunting us since we arrived on the continent. Like her European counterpart, Erica Ployer has caved to the pressure of the werenation, agreeing to hunt us down and deliver us to the less-than-tender mercies of my fellow werewolves. So far, we’ve managed to elude them, thanks to dear friends and a lot of luck and I won’t allow them to capture us now we’re so close to ending this.

At least the Enforcers can’t see us physically, nor magically, but the impulse to try to hide is too ingrained for me to stop. Sage pants softly next to me, almost cheerful in his demeanor, like this is fun for him.

He always had an odd sense of humor, and even more so now he’s a wolf.

Wilding Springs lies beyond the trees. I originally resisted coming here—a place that feels more like home than the palace in Ukraine—in the need to keep my dear friend, Sydlynn Hayle, and her coven out of my mess. She’d been trying ever since Sage and I escaped from the clutches of my people to track me down. At least, she had been. Her touch went silent when Sage and I landed in North America, and I haven’t heard from her since.

When I first thought Sage was a revenant, I did my best to keep my friends from becoming embroiled in this disaster, to protect them from my decisions to try to save Sage. I have no idea what’s become of Tallah and her family after the coven leader so openly protected us. Nor of my Steam Union friend, Piers Southway. The last I saw of him, he was unconscious, still in the wreck of the SUV he used to carry Sage and I to freedom. I can’t think of them now, though the temptation to wallow in my worry is great.

The worst part is, I now know Sage is no danger to anyone, that he is, in fact, much more than any other werewolf could hope to be. All of this hurt and heartache could have been avoided had I only known in the beginning. Now, I need help to convince the powers that be he is not a threat and to call off the hunt for us.

Sage needs to be safe so I can go home and save my grandfather from execution.

The wolf shifts beside me, leaning in to swipe the side of my face with his tongue. He must feel my anxiety, smell it, because his mind reaches for mine, the barest touch so as not to trigger any power the patrolling Enforcers might pick up on.

We can’t sit here all night
. Sage’s voice is calm, composed, the practical tone of a wolf. My own chuffs her satisfaction at his words.
Any ideas?
 

I’ve assessed and discarded at least a dozen since I pulled in and parked here only fifteen minutes ago. It’s been a long journey from California to Pennsylvania and I’m glad to be almost done with it. I need rest—we both do—and anger grinds my teeth together, frustration that the witches in black robes watching over Wilding Springs are keeping me from my destination.

We could just call her out here
, Sage sends.
Syd would come in a heartbeat
.

Alerting the Enforcers we’re here
, I send, scratching his mane with absent fingers. My lower lip hurts from chewing on it, eyes narrowed as I grip the steering wheel with my free hand so tightly my palm cramps. Every scenario I’ve come up with puts the coven in harm’s way. If I can get to Syd and tell her what’s happened, find some neutral ground to talk to Femke Svennson, the leader of the European Council, I might be able to diffuse this enough to get Sage a pass so we can go back to Ukraine and make sure my grandfather is safe.

I’ve been warned to stay away until the time is right, whatever that means. The odd young woman I met in California, Zoe Helios, claims to be an Oracle, to see the future. She warned me against returning too soon, that doing so would mean the permanent enslavement of my people. But according to Piers, Oleksander is under arrest, his execution imminent, all thanks to his support of me after I became a fugitive.

For all I know, Oleksander is already dead. But I refuse to believe it. Regardless my grandfather’s state, I will go home and ensure the throne of the werenation never serves as a seat for the revenant pretender, Cicero Caine. I shudder at the thought of the huge Californian pack leader taking his place where my grandfather should rightfully sit. I can only hope the werenation rejects him as a candidate, and that the gathering of the packs takes far longer than I need to sort out this mess with Sage.

We could just go to the council leader here
, Sage sends.
We both know I’m not a danger to anyone
.

I shake my head.
Not an option
, I send. Erica Ployer might be a Hayle witch, but I’ve never trusted her. Syd’s the only one strong enough to keep the peace for any length of time. And she can be very persuasive. Not to mention she’s saved the Universe who knew how many times. The magic races owe her.

I owe her.

Another pass of power makes me snarl. Syd can’t be home. If she was, she’d be out here, giving these Enforcers grief. I’ve seen her do it in the past, back when her mother, Miriam, was Council Leader and under the control of the Brotherhood.

Thinking of them makes me even angrier and I need to focus. But it’s hard, knowing they are behind this wretched mess, if only by association. Though I have no proof of our guesses and suppositions, the general consensus among my friends is that Caine and his pack are the creation of Liander Belaisle, the leader of the fallen Brotherhood of sorcerers and that his protégé, Rupe, has been trying to recreate what his master made.

New werewolves, the first in centuries. Not since the Black Souls made us have weres been created. Only those born to our lineage are permitted to live. Our bite is viral, infectious, but only to humans, normals. Which leads us full circle to Sage and the reason we’re on the run.

I glance sideways at him, hating that my mind always takes this turnabout. The endless cyclical stirring of though leads me from my grandfather to Caine to the Brotherhood and, finally, to Sage and his safety. I’m meant to be werequeen one day, but I can barely keep one wolf safe.

I figure we have a few options
, Sage sends.
We can turn ourselves in
.

After all we’ve been through? We both snort together. Not going to happen.

We can call for Syd
. Again, not a choice I’m willing to risk, unless it’s absolutely last resort.

We can try to sneak in
, Sage sends.

Past all that magic. I sigh and rub my arms with both hands, the thin jacket I stole from the back seat of our liberated car barely enough to keep the September evening chill from my skin.
We might as well just give in
, I send.
They’ll be on us the moment we try to cross
.

Even if you take us through the veil?
Sage’s eyes are so wise, I get lost in them a moment before shaking my head.

Can’t
, I send, bitterly disappointed by the fact.
We’ve tried all along, remember? For whatever reason, I can cut into it, but not through it
.

Sage’s muzzle dips, forehead pushing against my shoulder.
I think I figured out why
. His nose is cold and wet, but I don’t flinch from the touch on my hand.
Remember when you took us to California? When we were being attacked by the hunters?
 

I do. It was our only successful jump. Without help, that is. Our first dive into the veil left us stranded in the dark, rubbery membrane between planes. Thankfully a drach had been close by and rescued us. Otherwise I’m certain we would have been lost there forever.

You used me to complete the trip
, he sends. My head snaps up as he goes on.
I could feel the drain on my energy, felt you with me. I’m right, aren’t I?
 

My mouth hangs open a moment before I grasp his furry face in my hands and kiss his snout.
Brilliant
, I send.
Why didn’t I think of that?
 

I can only guess it’s because we were both stressed and tired
, Sage sends, practicality tinted with humor.
Can’t blame us for forgetting
.

Me, he means. He’s so kind, even now.

My wolf reaches for his and finds only Sage. Of course. He’s fully integrated, unlike me. When Syd freed my people from the controls of the Black Soul sorcerers who created us, she also freed our magic. But I’ve always felt a disconnect, as though there are parts of my power I can’t yet access. Sage doesn’t have that flaw.

More to consider when this is all over and I have time to think.

Can we do it?
Sage’s magic is ready and willing, a deep and powerful river of deliciousness I wish I could dive in and never emerge from.

I think so
. My wolf barks an affirmative. With the boost of his magic, with both of us tied to the demon power Syd claims allows us access to the veil, I’m sure we can make it through.

That still doesn’t solve our problem.
They’ll feel us use our magic
, I send.

Sage bobs his head.
That’s the only downfall
, he sends.
So any way we look at it, we’re going to get caught
. He sighs, the hot puff of his breath on my cheek as he licks me.
If only there were some way to hide the power we use
.

The image of a dark and quiet cavern enters my mind, a gasp of air pulling me around to hug Sage close to me. His wolf body quivers as he catches my excitement and when I pull back to grin at him, his tongue lolls out of the side of his mouth in a wolf grin.

You
, I send,
are a genius
.

***

About the Author

Everything you need to know about me is in this one statement: I’ve wanted to be a writer since I was a little girl, and now I’m doing it. How cool is that, being able to follow your dream and make it reality? I’ve tried everything from university to college, graduating the second with a journalism diploma (I sucked at telling real stories), was in an all-girl improv troupe for five glorious years (if you’ve never tried it, I highly recommend making things up as you go along as often as possible). I’ve even been in a Celtic girl band (some of our stuff is on YouTube!) and was an independent film maker. My life has been one creative thing after another—all leading me here, to writing books for a living.