“I’ll be here where I have nothing to worry about.” She frowned. “Not for a few more years, at least. You’re the one who needs protection now. You can give it back to me when you come home.”

  Touched by her concern and generosity, I accepted the rabbit’s foot, affixing it to the strap of my backpack.

  She watched me with a curious expression. “Aren’t you afraid the alpha will see it and ask where it came from?”

  I shrugged. “Nope. I’ll tell him I stole it. That’s what he trained me for, isn’t it? Anyway, what’s he gonna do? Send me home?”

  She grinned.

  I hugged her, reveling in her familiar sweet scent and warm embrace. “Thank you. Stay safe while we’re gone.”

  “You too. Make good choices.”

  I laughed at the advice I always gave her. “I will.”

  At least, I hoped my choices would be good.

  Mackiel and I retrieved the chalice from Aunt Sereana’s rooftop garden and met Rust and the alpha by the bikes. We then drove north on I5, exited onto Lakeview Blvd East, and made a couple of turns, staying just this side of the fracture as we parked in a large, mostly empty lot. The alpha was already off his Harley and marching toward a historic building with giant stained-glass windows and embellishments that made it look like an old-fashioned gothic church. It rested on the fracture, the blue border cradling the building. I wondered if the portal station also had an entrance on the Mondeine side.

  Rust shook rainwater out of his hair. The past two days had been sunny, but Seattle had a reputation to uphold. The sky had clouded up early this morning, and we’d emerged from the den into a downpour. It was only drizzling now, but the damage was done. Our waterproof jackets only covered our torsos and arms. Everything else was soaked through.

  My mentor leaned against his bike and folded his arms like he’d be there a while. Curious, I joined Rust as Mackiel parked beside my bike.

  “What are we waiting for?” I asked.

  “The alpha has to get some information about the portal station nearest to our destination,” he said.

  “We’re really teleporting?”

  He nodded.

  My mind still required clarification. “Making our bodies, molecules, atoms, or whatever disappear from one location to appear in another? That’s what we’ll be doing?” I asked.

  This time his nod came with the hint of a smile. “Somethin’ like that.”

  “Don’t laugh at me with your eyes,” I snapped. “It’s a perfectly reasonable question for someone who’s just learning that teleportation is a travel option.” Mackiel joined us, and I turned my attention to him. “You didn’t know about porting either, did you?”

  “No. I would have told you if I did.”

  “Which is why nobody told him,” Rust said. “The trouble you two would have gotten into had you known….” He shook his head. “Nobody wanted to go traipsin’ around the globe tryin’ to find you two.”

  I gave him my best innocent look before facing Mackiel. “He makes us sound like hellions.”

  Rust snorted. “Do you know how long it took us to find and dispose of all those damn shavin’ cream balloons?”

  Mackiel and I weren’t demons, but we weren’t exactly angels either. We weren’t trying to disobey the alpha’s orders; it was a matter of survival, really. But, the prospect of spending every day of our childhood stuck in the den threatened to snuff out our souls with boredom, so we’d occasionally snuck out. We’d found a corner store stocked with random treasures I’d only read about, and the various packages and products were fascinating. After eating our body weight in expired candy, we discovered balloons, and our lives changed forever. Or at least for that summer.

  The first time a balloon popped, we realized how much more fun it would be if they were full of something other than air. Something that exploded into a goopy mess. One experiment led to another, and the next thing I knew, we were sneaking balloons and shaving cream into the den. Since all the adults had duties and children were sequestered in the safe space, our supervision was minimal, leaving us plenty of time to fill the balloons and stash them around the den.

  Shifters were clean freaks. Something about the stigma of being half-animal made my people physically unable to leave filled balloons lying around. They had to pop them to dispose of them, and, well, chaos ensued. Dad and Rust had to know Mackiel and I were responsible, but since I used herbs to mask our scents, they couldn’t prove a damn thing. We didn’t entirely get away with it since the alpha had security cameras installed inside the den shortly after the fiasco, making it almost impossible for us to sneak out again. Almost, but we’d still managed.

  “Do you have any idea what he’s talking about?” I asked Mackiel, my tone sugary-sweet innocence.

  Mackiel shook his head, but a smile played on his lips. “No clue.”

  “Rust is really old,” I told Mackiel. “Ancient, even. His geriatric mind confuses details sometimes.”

  Rust’s eyes narrowed on me. “As I was sayin’, nobody told you about the portals because I had no desire to drag your asses back from China.”

  Wait, China was an option? Okay. Yeah, we would have attempted to use a portal. At least before Mackiel took the Bloodrite. Now, I’d be on my own if I left. That sucked, but at least my friend and I would have this adventure together.

  “Why are we taking a portal?” I asked.

  The look Rust gave me questioned my intelligence. “Why not? How else would we cross the ocean?”

  Trekking across the globe wasn’t my forte since I’d never been allowed further than an hour and a half drive away from the den, but I’d read books that mentioned other methods of travel. “I don’t know. Airplane? Ship? Submarine? Why did the alpha choose to travel by teleportation?”

  “A ship would take months and be both dangerous and expensive, and nobody travels by plane anymore.”

  “Why not?” Mackiel asked, chiming in before I could.

  “Well, fracturin’ the land complicated shit. Some airports ended up in Terra Fera, and some landed in Terra Victa. Made a mess of the whole system. Even if they hadn’t, could you imagine Mondeine and Tricari trapped together in a metal flying box? Someone would spout off, and it’d turn into a feckin’ blood bath. But that’s not the only reason. You know how magic isn’t only channeled through people and creatures?” Rust asked.

  I nodded while Mackiel asked, “What do you mean?”

  “Places and things can hold traces of magic. Take the artifact Chip stole, for example. Places like Loch Ness in Scotland also hold magic,” Rust explained.

  “Because of Nessie?” I asked. Mackiel didn’t seem to know what I was talking about, so I added, “The Lock Ness Monster.” At his continued blank expression, I sighed. “You really need to read more books.”

  “Visited Loch Ness once when I was younger,” Rust continued, ignoring us. “Didn’t see Nessie, but I smelled her. The magic was so thick in parts of that lake that I felt… charged. Had to hold my wolf side back.”

  “What does that have to do with airplanes?” I asked, confused.

  “When the mages fractured the land to separate the people, they pulled magic from items and places in Terra Victa. Some of that magic went into erectin’ the border, but the rest shot into Terra Fera, makin’ pockets of concentrated, unstable magic. Right after the war, an airplane packed with Mondeine flyin’ from Vegas to Chicago hit one of those pockets, and… well, nobody wanted to fly after that.”

  In true Rust fashion, he’d glossed over the best part, treating me like I was too young to hear the details. “Oh, come on,” I complained. “You can’t leave us hangin’ like that. What happened to the plane?”

  “Some things you don’t need to know,” he replied.

  “We’re not kids anymore,” I shot back.

  “That may be true, but you’re a long way from grown.”

  Exasperated, I threw my head back. “That doesn’t even make sense.”

  “Give it fifty years. It will.”

  “We don’t have fifty years, Rust. We’re traveling now. Don’t you think we should know what’s out there?”

  He considered the question for a moment before nodding. “I suppose preparin’ you is more important than protectin’ you at this point. Fine. Don’t say I didn’t warn ya. And don’t come cryin’ to me if you have nightmares. When that plane hit the pocket of magic, it mutated the travelers on board.”

  “Mutated?” The term caught me off guard. I understood the definition—changed in form or nature—but I couldn’t visualize how anyone could instantly be altered. Shifters were born or made through a bite. The process wasn’t instant, and it was painful from what I’d heard. But people who were bitten were infected with the animal DNA strain of their biter. Their animal sides were related like a parent and child. For a pocket of concentrated magic to alter a human… “Mutated how?”

  “They were transformed into hideous, deformed monsters. They grew fangs and claws, sprouted fur and scales, and grew additional arms and legs. Their humanity was stripped away. They lost all control and attacked each other like they were infected with rabies or some shit like that.”

  Okay. Now I couldn’t turn off the disturbing visuals. “How is that even possible?”

  Rust scratched at the whiskers covering his chin. “Who the hell knows? Change always carries consequences, sometimes good, sometimes bad. Those mages may have saved us from killin’ one another off by separatin’ us, but they broke somethin’ in the process.”

  Mackiel’s brow furrowed in thought. He opened and closed his mouth a few times before asking, “But how do you know what the people mutated into? Didn’t the plane crash?”

  “Oddly enough, no.” Rust leaned forward. “At the time, everyone speculated about why, but accordin’ to the flight recorder, auto-land kicked on.”

  “How do you know all of this?” I asked.

  “Happened right after the war ended, and we were still keepin’ an eye on shit, makin’ sure the Mondeine didn’t change their tune and attack. It was all over the news.”

  “And nobody thought to tell us?” Mackiel asked.

  Rust shrugged. “To what end? To scare you? There’s not shit you can do about it, and nobody in the pack has been affected. Why talk about it? Anyway, the travelers that survived the flight ripped apart the first responders who came to help them. The Peace Council had to send bounty hunters to take the monsters out. Whole situation was a nightmare.”

  “That’s awful,” I said on a breath.

  “A tragedy,” he agreed. “And not an isolated one. Two other planes hit magic pockets in different parts of the world, but they both crashed. Didn’t take long for the officials to figure out the pockets didn’t show up on radar and couldn’t be avoided. It was a mess. The Mondeine don’t like bein’ grounded. They blamed the mages who’d created the fractures, claimin’ they intended for this to happen. Almost restarted the war until a handful of scientists and mages teamed up and created the portals.”

  “Are the portals safe?” Mackiel asked.

  Rust chuckled. “Safer than flyin’.”

  “That answer does not instill confidence,” I pointed out.

  “Sure doesn’t.” Rust stared me down. “Tell me what you want here. Assurance or truth?”

  “Both.”

  He met my gaze. “You wanna be an adult, you gotta accept that you don’t get both.”

  My mentor’s answering grin didn’t quite reach his eyes. I looked him over, noting the bags under his eyes and worry lines across his forehead. In my excitement over the prospect of traveling, I hadn’t even considered how difficult this must be on him. Just yesterday afternoon, Janey had given birth to a healthy baby boy. Both mother and pup were doing well, but the delivery had been difficult. Janey had lost a lot of blood and required stitches since she wouldn’t be able to shift and heal for a few days yet.

  And, of course, Rust had carried as much of her pain load as he could through the process. He had to be as wiped out as she was, but no way in hell would he ever admit it.

  “I’m sorry, Rust,” I said, my excitement draining away.

  He eyed me curiously. “For what?”

  “For all of this. You shouldn’t be here. You should be at home with your mate and baby.”

  His shoulders straightened. “I don’t question the orders of my alpha, kid. You shouldn’t either.”

  But I did have questions. Lots of them. And I was sick to death of being left in the dark. “But why now?” I asked. “I’ve waited nineteen years to shift, and suddenly the alpha’s all about making it happen. Why?”

  “I’m sure he has his reasons.”

  That answer made me want to scream in frustration. I understood that none of my packmates could defy my father, but did they have to follow him with such blind devotion? Loyalty was one thing, but this? This was so much more.

  “Yeah, but I’m sure his reasons could have allowed you to spend at least a few days with your new pup.”

  His jaw ticked, and his eyes hardened. “That’s enough, Chip. Barkin’ up that tree won’t catch you anythin’. Let it go.”

  I wanted to rage and demand to know why Rust and the rest of the pack had placed my father on such a high pedestal they couldn’t even ask him questions, but I knew better than to push my mentor further than I already had.

  Mackiel’s strong hand landed on my shoulder, drawing my attention. When our gazes met, he gave me a slight shake of his head, silently telling me to drop it. My friend was only looking out for me, but his interference kind of made me want to punch him in the throat. Despite what he, Rust, or any of my father’s other minions thought, my point was valid, but I knew when to shut my mouth. I didn’t need to be shushed.

  “The alpha’s ready for us.” Rust hiked his pack over his shoulders. “Come on. Socotra awaits.”

  Mackiel must have sensed my irritation because he tried to catch my eye, but I ignored him and followed Rust to line up behind the alpha. In front of the line, an oak door swung open. An older gentleman leaned heavily on his cane and climbed the single step. As he moved, his human disguise distorted, revealing glimpses of tawny skin and pointed ears. What was he? Some sort of elf or tree folk? Washington's wild, lush forests had to be full of people who thrived in nature.

  An elbow nudged me in the side. “You okay?” Mackiel whispered.

  The concern on my friend’s face made me realize how ridiculous I was being. Mackiel had always treated me like a little sister he needed to protect. After four years apart, I’d hoped he’d grown out of that behavior, but he was a dominant wolf. Protection was part of who he was, ingrained in his DNA, and intertwined with every fiber of his being. I wasn’t even sure he could grow out of it.

  “I’m fine,” I said, and I was. “Just anxious. And a little worried.”

  Rust and my father had their heads together and were speaking in Irish. I’d picked up a few words over the years, but not nearly enough to follow their conversation. I wondered what they were discussing that they didn’t want us to overhear.

  “Worried?” Mackiel followed my gaze to Rust. “About him? Come on, Chip, you know better. You told me how he got his name.”

  Not exactly. I’d told Mackiel why Rust’s name was a perfect fit for the corrosive son-of-a-bitch whose sole purpose in life was to break me down. In my defense, that epiphany came after a particularly grueling training session. I’d been certain Rust was trying to kill me at the time.

  “He’ll be fine,” Mackiel assured me. “We all will. And I can do without this weather for a while. Rust said Socotra, but I haven’t the foggiest idea where that is. The Middle East is desert, though, right?” He held up a hand, allowing it to fill with raindrops. “Desert weather works for me.”

  “Still hate the rain, huh?” I asked.

  “Even more now that my days are usually spent out in it. Never thought I’d say this, but underground was better.”

  The line moved forward, and I realized there were only two people in front of our group now. A slight female who stood no higher than half my father’s height waited beside a blond boy who barely came to her hips. I tugged on Mackiel’s sleeve and discretely gestured toward the diminutive duo. “What do you think? Halflings?” I whispered.

  My friend looked at me like I was speaking a different language. “Uh… sure?”

  I sighed. “I thought you were studying the database.”

  “The animal section. I’m a hunter, Chip. All I need to know is which meat is edible and where to wound ’em without ruining any of the tasty parts.”

  “But don’t you want to know about the other people out there?” I asked.

  “Why?” He shrugged. “It’s not like we’re gonna invite them over for a party or anything. All the people I need to know live in the den or at the farm.”

  “You sound like them.” I nodded toward Rust and my father.

  “Like I enjoy the company of my pack and don’t plan on needing anyone else?”

  “But there could be really cool people out there that you’ll never know.”

  He frowned. “Still workin’ through that fear of missing out, huh?”

  “The world is massive. I will never understand why the pack is content to stay in our little corner of it.”

  Turning back to face forward, I focused on the boy. A bag strap slipped down his arm. As he adjusted it, his gaze snagged on my father, and his eyes grew wide as saucers. Whipping around to fully face the alpha, his mouth gaped open like a dead fish. Dad wasn’t tall, but he was built like a brick shithouse, broad, muscular, and immovable. Regardless, he must have seemed like a giant in the eyes of the miniature child. Something tumbled out of the boy’s hand, hitting the ground with a loud thwack, but he didn’t so much as blink.

  Hearing the sound, the woman spun around to find the boy’s attention locked on the alpha. Her cheeks flamed red, and concern flooded her eyes. “Sorry. Sorry,” she muttered, keeping her gaze lowered. Bowing at the waist, she picked up a wooden car and handed it to the boy. When he didn’t take it, she smacked it into his open hand and forced his fingers closed around it before spinning him around to face forward. “Stop staring, Kipp, and mind your own business.”

 

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