mythean arcana 06 - master of fate Read online

  “But it’s getting stronger, isn’t it? Whatever is wrong with the portal is warping.”

  “Portal? How do you know it’s a portal?” The university hadn’t given him any details.

  “Long story.” Her tone was dark.

  “Shit’s getting worse here. I think I ought to hear it if we’re going up against it.” Even he could feel the unnatural magic vibrating on the air. It had an oily, evil quality that made the wulver part of his soul shiver. This was becoming more than just the quick and easy fix he’d anticipated. “If we’re to get any closer, we’ll have to walk or ski. We canna do that tonight.”

  Aurora rubbed her arms, her teeth chattering. “Good. Let’s get out of here before the magic reaches any farther and kills your snowmobile too. We’ll come back when the sun is up.”

  He nodded. “We’ll tow your machine back.” He bent down to grab the handlebars so he could push it back toward his. As soon as he put some force on it, the metal screeched. The machine crumbled, metal twisted and broken. He jumped back. “Bluidy hell!”

  “Oh crap!” Aurora stumbled back.

  Mouse turned to smoke, a weird familiar’s trick he hadn’t seen in centuries. Her ghostly black form flowed toward the broken pile of metal to investigate. He’d forgotten the protective maneuver that familiars sometimes used when they didn’t want to be hurt by anything on earth.

  He moved forward and kicked some of the broken metal with his boot. All the pieces of the snowmobile were there, but each was a tangled mess edged with rust.

  “Strong magic,” Aurora said.

  “Too strong. And new. This hasn’t happened before.” It gave him chills. “Let’s head back.”

  He leaned down and pulled Mouse’s fluffy harness from the pile of rubble. It was streaked with rust, but at least it was fine. It was clearly too harmless for the magic to have affected it. As he turned to walk to the machine he’d left a dozen yards back, his step stuttered briefly. They’d have to share the snowmobile. A cold sweat broke out on his skin underneath his jacket, but he picked up the pace.

  He stopped near the machine and kicked it. Thud. The machine stayed standing.

  Damn.

  He didn’t want to walk, but part of him almost hoped they’d be forced to.

  He attached Mouse’s harness to the front of the seat and said, “You can sit in front of me.”

  At least that way, he’d be more in control. She couldn’t reach around him with her hands and touch him. Warily, he watched her climb on. Mouse followed. The machine looked a whole lot smaller with them on it.

  He braced himself, then swung his leg over the seat. The heat of her body hit him first, though he wasn’t touching her. Then her familiar scent. Sweet and clean. Had he not been sitting, it would have sent him to his knees. He did his damnedest to keep an inch of space between them, but the incline of the seat prevented it. His heart thundered in his chest, almost deafening him.

  He hadn’t touched anyone in three hundred years. How many times had he longed to touch her just once more?

  A second later, she was nestled between his thighs. The heat of her burned him, a fiery pain that made his cock harden and his stomach turn.

  He sucked in a harsh breath.

  Focus.

  It took everything he had to ignore her. Even then, he failed. With a grimace, he reached around her and clutched the handlebars. The machine roared to life. They set off across the snow, the force of their momentum pushing her back against his chest. Memories of his torture assailed him, making a cold sweat break out on his brow.

  How the hell was he going to endure the remaining miles?

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Western Scotland

  1660

  The bark of the big oak bit into Aurora’s hands as she held on to the big branch. Her darned skirt kept catching on the smaller branches. If she was going to keep sitting in this tree, she really would have to convince her mother to let her wear breeches.

  Mouse meowed a quiet warning and Aurora’s attention snapped back to the ground. There he was. The one she’d been waiting for.

  “Good eyes, Mouse,” she whispered. She conjured a fish for her familiar and put it on the tree limb upon which Mouse sat. Mouse leaned down to devour it. They’d been sitting up here for two hours waiting to see if the man would return, as he had every day for the past week.

  He was approaching her, weaving between the large oaks that separated them, his brown woolen cloak falling from his broad shoulders. He had to be at least six feet tall and so handsome. Easily the handsomest man she’d ever seen. Aurora imagined he was probably a few years older than she.

  He was close enough now that she could make out his eerie silver eyes. They scanned the forest as though looking for something, the same as every other day. What was he looking for? She scooted behind the cover of the leaves so that he couldn’t see her and inspected him more closely.

  His dark hair was a shiny mass that flowed back from his beautiful face. She couldn’t get over how handsome he was. And he was a Mythean like her.

  Not that that meant much. Bitterness jabbed her. Mytheans wanted to kill her kind as much as mortals did. But oh, how she wished she could speak to him. A friend. She loved her mother and was elated that she was pregnant—soon Aurora would have a sibling—but she was seventeen. She wanted to meet someone her own age.

  “It’s been long enough, I think,” he said. “You can come out now.”

  She gasped, then slapped a hand over her mouth. Mouse perked up her ears and peered down.

  He had never spoken before. Was he speaking to her?

  “Aye, you in the tree. Come on down,” he said.

  Oh, this was not good. It was one thing to gaze upon him from afar and have fantasies; it was another thing entirely to actually speak to him. Her mother had made it very clear what would happen if they were discovered to be soulceresses.

  Burning.

  And Aurora believed her. She had more than enough proof. It was not a good time to be a soulceress—or even a poor mortal woman that the stupid mortals thought to be a witch.

  “All right, if you will no’ come down, then I’ll come up,” the man said. He swept the brown cloak back off his shoulders and reached for the lowest branch. Aurora had to use a bit of magic to boost herself up, but he didn’t.

  She crowded back against the trunk as he began to climb with strong, sure movements.

  Her heart pounded in her ears as she watched him come closer. Mouse hissed and the sound snapped Aurora out of her fear. She had Mouse to protect, along with her mother and unborn sibling. If he got too close, he’d feel her soul leach the power from his. He’d know what she was, and then she’d be in trouble.

  She reached a hand toward him and shot magic from her palm. It tore him away from the tree and sucked him up into the air to dangle above the ground in front of her.

  “What the bluidy hell?” He couldn’t move except for his mouth.

  “Why do you come here?” she demanded, fear fighting with her delight at finally talking to him.

  His gaze snapped to where she sat a few feet above him on her branch. “To see you, of course.”

  “Me?”

  “Of course. I felt the magic. You’re Mythean.”

  “So what if I am?”

  “Let me down first and then we can talk.”

  “No’ until you tell me why you care that I’m Mythean.”

  “I wanted to meet one of my own kind.”

  Aurora was desperate to believe him. That he just wanted to be friends and not that he was planning to report her existence and location to anyone who might want to burn her at the stake—which was everyone. She longed for a friend her own age. And he wasn’t just a potential friend. He was a boy. A handsome one.

  “How am I supposed to believe you?” she said.

  “I’ve known you were here a whole week and have no’ told anyone who might want to harm you.”

  “Harm me? So you know what I am?”

  “A soulceress is my guess. I’ve felt you drawing on my soul every time I’ve come here.”

  She paused. It was probably true. And no one had come to the cottage she shared with her mother, demanding to know if they were consorting with the devil. And gods, she wanted to believe him so badly. “Yet you continue to come back?”

  “As I said, I wanted to meet you.”

  “And all week you’ve known I’ve been in this tree but have no’ said anything?”

  “I saw you climb up the first day. But I dinna want to frighten you. I wanted you to come to me.”

  “Why?” Why did he care so much that she not be afraid?

  “Because I know what it’s like to be a Mythean, hiding from my own kind and mortals alike. But today I realized that you never were going to say anything, so I did.” Sincerity radiated from him.

  And he was right. She wouldn’t ever have said anything. And what did he mean, he knew what it was like to be a Mythean hiding from everyone?

  Her resistance broke. “All right. I’ll let you down. But then you’ll have to come with me somewhere.”

  He didn’t hesitate. “All right.”

  She breathed a sigh of relief and slowly lowered him to the ground. If she was going to try this… this friendship, she wanted it to be on her turf where she was safe. She climbed to the ground to join him.

  “You’re quite short, aren’t you?” He grinned.

  “You’re too tall.” She looked him up and down. He was at least six feet tall and likely around twenty years old.

  “I’ll only grow taller,” he said.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Felix.”

  “I’m Aurora. You really doona mind that I drain your power?” Everyone hated soulceresses. But he di
dn’t seem to.

  “Nay. I doona need it normally. Almost everything I do can be handled physically, without magic.”

  Her gaze traced over his tall form and broad shoulders. He was all power. He was right—he could handle anything that came at him even without using his powers.

  “Can you aetherwalk?” she asked. Mouse sidled up and pressed herself against Aurora’s legs.

  “Aye.”

  She held out her hand and he grasped it immediately. A shiver streaked across her skin at his touch. She’d never touched a boy before. In truth, she’d never touched anyone but her mother. “Follow me, then.”

  She closed her eyes and focused on the abandoned city, on its great stone walls and towering buildings, and aetherwalked them there. He followed along with his own power. She could have simply aetherwalked them both, but it would have taken too much power and she liked to conserve.

  It was necessary to conserve.

  When she opened her eyes, they stood atop the tallest stone building in the abandoned city. It sat atop an enormous glacier. White snow stretched out in all directions around the city. The chill in the air sent a shiver across her skin.

  “Where are we?” he asked, his voice awed. She appreciated it. Exploring ancient cities was one of the best things to do, in her mind, and this was her favorite one. Not only that, this city was vital to her.

  “It’s the only known soulceress city. It’s been abandoned for a long, long time.” She gazed down at the roofs and winding streets, fascinated. Mouse walked to the edge and peered over.

  “Tell me about it.”

  She turned to him, delighted that he shared her interest. And pleased, because he should know of this place. He should know what would happen to her if he revealed her identity and location to any of the Mytheans and mortals who were now wracked by fear of witches.

  Her mother had told her the story dozens of times. “Two thousand years ago, when Iceland—that’s where we are, by the way—was uninhabited, soulceresses built this city. They wanted a place as far away from other Mytheans as they could get.”

  “So they picked the middle of a glacier?”

  “Aye. It was safest. Most Mytheans revile us. They doona like that we drain their power.” She glanced at him to see what his expression might tell her.

  He just grinned.

  “You really doona care that I do?” She just couldn’t wrap her mind around it.

  “No’ really. I have plenty that I canna really use, and I just regenerate it anyway. And it’s no’ like you can control it, can you?”

  She shook her head. That was the crux of it. She couldn’t control it. No soulceress could. They drained the power of others whether they wanted to or not. And he understood that. “What do you mean, you canna really use your power?”

  “I’ll tell you in a moment. I want to hear the end of your story.”

  “All right.”

  “Let’s sit.” He sat on the parapet of the building. Though there was no snow on the roof because of the protective magic still enveloping this place, he spread out his cloak for her to sit upon.

  Something warm fizzed in her chest as she sat.

  “So what happened to the soulceresses?” he asked.

  “They lived here happily for centuries. Because they could aetherwalk to anywhere on earth, the remoteness of this place protected them but dinna bind them. They’d used their power to fuel this place and its protective charms. But then the Vikings came. Eventually Mytheans followed. This place is invisible to mortals, but not to Mytheans. Many of the soulceresses were killed by Mytheans who hated them. The few that remained abandoned it.” Her throat tightened at the thought. Once, this whole place had been filled with people like her. She could have had friends. A huge family like the mortals did. Instead, they’d all been slaughtered. She sniffled.

  “That’s terrible.” He reached for her hand and squeezed.

  Her heart pounded. She felt the intended comfort in the gesture, but more as well. She blinked back the tears that mercifully did not fall and said, “That’s what will happen to me if you tell anyone that my mother and I live in that forest. We’ve been running for years, ever since mortal fear of witches became so great. It’s near hysteria now, getting worse every year. Mytheans have joined in too. Mother and I have heard that they’re capturing soulceresses and killing them. They’ve been so successful that there are probably only a couple dozen of us left.”

  Fierce protectiveness arose in Felix. “I will no’ tell anyone.”

  He would protect her with his life. Ever since he’d seen her a week ago, he’d known she was important to him. The wolf in his soul had recognized her. He hadn’t ever believed in fated mates the way the rest of his clan did, but he wasn’t full wulver. He’d thought it wouldn’t happen for him.

  Then he’d seen her—so beautiful, all golden and bright as she walked through the forest. But that hadn’t been what had drawn him. It had been the feeling of belonging, of rightness, that he’d felt around her.

  He’d started believing in mates then. He’d come back to the forest every day, hoping she’d approach him. He’d felt that she was a soulceress right away. Of course she’d be wary of other Mytheans approaching her. Now she was worried that he might put her in danger? Never.

  His hand tightened on hers. He cursed inwardly and loosened his grip. She was so much smaller and more delicate than he was. He’d have to be careful not to hurt her with his strength.

  “You’ve lived in the woods for several years?” he asked. He and his mother had just arrived.

  “Aye. For three years. But my mother is growing worried. Witch hunts are becoming more common and we’re even hearing stories of soulceresses being captured in Edinburgh.” Her voice turned bitter. “No’ that there are many of us left.”

  He had nothing good to say in response. He wanted to make her feel better, but had no idea how.

  “What are you?” she asked.

  He tensed. His mixed blood hadn’t always been a good thing. He didn’t like sharing it. But she’d trusted him. He could trust her.

  “I’m part wulver, part timewalker.”

  “Wulver? Like a wolf?”

  “You have no’ heard of wulvers?”

  “I’ve no’ heard much of anything. My mother and I have no’ spent much time around other Mytheans.”

  “Wulvers are men with the spirit of the wolf inside them. There’s only one clan of us and a full-blood can shift into the shape of the wolf. They live in the Shetland Islands.” The thought of his homeland, windswept and beautiful in the middle of the North Sea, was bittersweet.

  “They? But no’ you? You’re one of them.”

  “I used to live amongst the clan. No longer. Wulvers doona like mixed-bloods. My father was wulver, my mother a timewalker. I doona shift. My wolf is a shadow. My soul is torn between two species. As long as my father was alive, the clan tolerated us there. When my father was lost at sea during a fishing expedition, my mother and I were expelled from the clan. We came here. I want to go out on my own, but I canna leave her yet. She’s no’ handling his death well.”

  Her worried gaze searched his. “When did this happen?”

  “Last month.”

  Her hand tightened on his. “You lost your father just recently?”

  He nodded, his throat tightening. Embarrassed, he tried to force the feeling away. He was a man—tears had no place with him.

  “And it’s just you and your mother? As it’s just me and mine?”

  “Now? Aye. See—we have something in common.”

  “I suppose. My mother is pregnant. I never knew my father. This baby’s father is in the New World. I’ve never met him. My mother met him while traveling. But I canna wait until the child is born.”

  Another thing they had in common. “I have a half brother from my father—Malcolm—but he’s far older. We were very close, until he was expelled from the clan when they learned he’s half warlock.”

  “A warlock?” Her voice held the awe and nerves that anyone’s would at the mention of warlocks. They were immensely powerful, but also dangerous. Warlocks, known as oath breakers, were masters of destruction. They specialized in tearing apart spells and were capable of the greatest magic, but they paid a great price for it. “Is that why you doona mind that I’m a soulceress? Because your brother’s species is almost as despised as mine?”