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Lychos
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Lychos
Book Three of the Lychos Cycle
Patti Larsen
Smashwords Edition
Copyright 2014 by Patti Larsen
Find out more about Patti Larsen at
http://www.pattilarsen.com/
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Purely Paranormal Press
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Smashwords Edition, License Notes
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Cover art (copyright) by Valerie Bellamy. All rights reserved.
www.dog-earbookdesign.com
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Edited by Annetta Ribken, freelance Goddess. You can find her at http://www.wordwebbing.com/
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Copy edits by Jennifer Wingard. Find her at
http://theindependentpen.com
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Chapter One
My legs ache, my whole body, really. I’ve been one tight, tense knot since leaving the train behind in the Northwest and stealing this family car. The long drive from southern Washington has given me nothing but time to think about what we’ve left behind—good friends, uncovered secrets—and about what’s to come. I crack open a window, allowing the cool Pennsylvanian night air, crisp with the promise of frost, to stir the heaviness inside. Heaviness matched by the weight in my heart, the burning need to reach this destination.
To reach Syd.
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 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, which usually happens to our kind, 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 Plower has caved to the pressure of the werenation, agreeing to hunt us down and deliver Sage and me 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. 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 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. But 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 decision to try to save him. 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—the werenation, the witches—he is not a threat and to call off the hunt.
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.
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 only 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 travel 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 of 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 Cain
e. 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 Plower 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 difficult, 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 thought 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 become 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're 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 into 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.
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Chapter Two
I slip from the driver’s seat and into the darkness, Sage padding out beside me on silent wolf feet. It’s late, well after 1AM, all the amorous lovers who might use this lookout long gone home. The trees part in the distance, a cliff giving an excellent view of the town below. I catch a whiff of Enforcer magic as Sage tucks close to me, huge head tall enough to reach my waist.
We move as one, quiet and stealthy, abandoning our ride for the edge of the trees. I know enough to stay hidden from prying Enforcer eyes as well as their magic, though we will have to time things perfectly if we expect to keep our arrival a secret for any length of time.
It feels odd to travel with Sage this way and yet not. How strange I feel more comfortable with him in this shape than I ever have with his human form. He’s very calm and seems to love being a wolf. At least, he tells me so every time I ask him in a moment of weakness and guilt.
It took me two days to accept he wasn’t losing his humanity, and another full one to embrace the fact he is more himself now than he has ever been. I have never believed in fate or destiny outside of the duty I must fulfill, but with Sage, I feel now he was born to be a wolf. I can only hope his poise and power can convince the councils and my people Sage is worthy of life. More, that he is a new creature who deserves to be respected and embraced.
This could all be over in a matter of minutes. I feel my heart begin to race as I look ahead, to success, before reining myself in. We are far from done, and though this plan might work, there is a very good chance it will also land us in the custody of the waiting Enforcers. Will they ask questions before attacking? It will depend on their orders. I didn’t exactly give Pender reason to trust me the last time we met. Enforcer Leader Tremere isn’t a terrible man, or a cruel one. But he follows orders. If Erica has decided we are too much of a problem to deal with, she might act impulsively.
Though I would feel very sorry for her, indeed, should anything bad happen to Sage or me on her watch. I am my own woman and far from a coward, but even I am afraid of Syd when she’s angry.
It’s hard not to let myself dream this might work, though, especially when we come to a halt inside the thin tree line and I look down over Wilding Springs. My gaze picks out Town Hall and the library inside, my heart constricting for the loss of Liam O’Dane and the birth of Syd’s son, Gabriel. I lift my head to glare at the Hilltop Hotel, the place of my first meeting with Syd and her family, the moment I realized there were witches who could be trusted and the freedom I longed for might not be just a far-off dream.
But when I look down again, I focus on one thing only. Not the white two-story with the big back yard bordering the small park. I’ll be there before long. No, instead I look south and west, to the edge of town and the darkness hiding the cavern where once a monster died.
Cesard, the Firbolg magician and his supernatural hitchhikers are long gone, though the vampire essence that possessed him now lives in Syd. But the c
avern which served as his prison remains, the ancient wards blocking elemental magic still firmly in place. Syd has sheltered it with energy, kept it hidden all these years, but only to those who aren’t aware of its existence.
It’s the perfect answer, if this works. Walking in is no good. The barrier of power the Enforcers have around Wilding Springs will alert them if anyone passes, and they’ll be on us before we can escape. But this way, if I can ride us through the veil to its depths, there is a chance the power I use will be swallowed by the suppressing wards of the cavern. There are no guarantees, but I don’t expect any. At the very least, if the Enforcers do feel me open the veil, they won’t know where I’ve gone and no amount of searching will discover us. That way, I don’t put the Hayle coven at risk. Yes, Syd’s magic and the power of the family might disguise our arrival behind the wards surrounding Syd’s house, but there’s no promise the Enforcers won’t feel Sage and me anyway. The cavern blocks all power, giving us at least a ray of hope to grasp. If we can make it there, smother our path, we can then simply make our way on foot to Syd.
Hopefully, if they feel our passing, the Enforcers will think it’s only Syd returning, though Pender is now aware I have access to the veil.
So many ifs and maybes, and yet this is our only viable option. I will not get caught, not now. Not when the end is so close at hand. I can almost taste Caine’s blood in my mouth, teeth clamping together at the thought of ripping out his throat. Of rescuing my grandfather and making sure he is firmly on his throne. And, if I’m forgiven, bowing to his need and retaking my place as wereprincess.
I can’t think of what will happen to Sage, even if he is allowed to live. But in my best case scenario, he will at least be alive.
Sage butts my hand with his head. I know you want to go home, he sends. He’s been in my mind, the devil, though I’m fine with it, oddly. But you can’t yet. His green eyes are dark in the moonless night.