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Shifter Mate Magic: Ice Age Shifters Book 1 Page 6
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A powerful wave of magic flowed over the truck and through Trevor. Reality wavered, and suddenly, he felt like he’d walked into a tuxedo affair buck naked, with everyone giving him the once over. The real world snapped back in time for him to hear Jackie gasp and curse. He’d forgotten to warn her about the border effect. He’d also forgotten to tell her his aunt’s instructions.
“Jackie, we have to ask for sanctuary.” He downshifted again, then spoke loud and clear. “I am Trevor Hammond, and I ask the Kotoyeesinay glade for sanctuary.”
She cleared her throat. “I am Jacqueline Breton, and I ask the Kotoyeesinay glade for sanctuary for me and my unborn daughter. And for Trevor.”
He couldn’t tell if their words had an effect. The road narrowed around a hairpin turn that took them around a thirty-foot-high boulder.
“Uhm, I think that rock just waved at you.” She sounded dubious.
“Could be. A couple of the rock giants take shifts as sentinels.” Another hairpin turn, this time in the opposite direction. He remembered this part of the road because it seemed to defy real-world geometry. He’d found it best not to think about it, and just go with the flow.
They passed through a time-weathered formation that looked like a rough-hewn gouge in the mountainside. Suddenly, they were in a valley that spread down and out before them like a sculpted ocean of boulders surrounded by green and purple wildflowers. The town of Kotoyeesinay nestled in among tall trees in the far end, looking cozy and sleepy in the afternoon sun.
“That’s amazing,” breathed Jackie.
Trevor eased up on the accelerator. “We should be safe—”
The truck jerked like a bucking bronco. He tightened his grip on the twisting steering wheel and fought to stay on the road. Another jerk, this time with the sound of tearing metal.
Jackie peered into her big side mirror. “Fucking hell! It’s Roehm’s Jeep. They just harpooned my motorcycle and pulled it off the back of your truck.”
Trevor punched the accelerator. The engine roared in response, and the scenery almost blurred. In front of them, the road seemed to widen and lengthen, as if to give him room for a race.
“Those morons just ran over…” She rolled down the window and twisted in her seat to look back, then turned to look at him. “Er, I think a dragon just scooped up the Jeep like an eagle taking a rabbit.” She shook her head. “If I’m not hallucinating.”
“You aren’t.” He let the truck slow as he pointed up ahead, where the motorcycle dangled from the Jeep clutched in the bronze-colored dragon’s talons. “The glade takes security very seriously.”
He slowed to an even more sedate pace as several more metallic-hued dragons rose and flew over them. He expected the others from Roehm’s gang were about to get a similar welcome.
“I hope dragons are bulletproof. Roehm likes to shoot things.”
The road curved and inclined gently to the northwest, toward the town. “He’s a real piece of work, isn’t he?” Trevor stole several quick glances at Jackie’s profile as she stared straight ahead, toward the decorated wrought-iron arch over the road that spelled out the name of the town in ornate letters. She looked scared and worried. “You’re not alone. I’ll be with you the whole time.” He poured every ounce of resolve he possessed into his words. No matter what happened, his place was by her side.
She glanced at him, startled, then shook her head. “It’s still weird that you know what I’m thinking.” She smiled briefly. “But I like it.”
Once past the welcoming arch, he slowed to the speed limit as Glade Road became the town’s main thoroughfare. “No point in going to Shepherd’s garage now, I guess. How about we head straight for Town Hall?” He pointed toward the three-story building that rose above the town’s roofline.
“Yes. Let’s get this over with.” She blew out a noisy breath. “I don’t want anyone else hurt because of me.”
Trevor ached to hold her, to tell her what she meant to him, but he didn’t think she’d believe him. They might be temporarily safe from their immediate pursuers, but they weren’t even close to being out of the woods. And in a golden elf glade, the woods could be deadly.
Well, so could he. He’d promised her not to do something stupid and get himself killed, but he damn sure intended to protect her with everything he had, because she was everything to him.
5
Jackie felt like she was back in college, when she’d had to present her undergraduate capstone term paper to a pair of bored professors. This time, however, she was in the asphalt parking lot outside the Kotoyeesinay town hall, speaking before a hastily assembled town council of six, seated behind a folding conference table. A magic-infused, twenty-foot-long ground tarp served as a witness box. Anyone standing on it could be heard far and wide, even when whispering. She and Trevor stood together in a defensive magic circle of chalk near the tarp’s north edge.
Jackie probably would have fainted dead away by now if it hadn’t been for Trevor. The moment they’d left his truck, he’d swallowed her in a long, tension-draining bear hug. After her quick visit to the town hall’s bathrooms and drinking fountains, he’d kept her close as they explained the events that brought them to ask for sanctuary.
She’d be lying if she said she hadn’t enjoyed being near him, or him initiating contact as often as he did. He was the only anchor she had in a reality gone seriously askew. Kotoyeesinay looked like any of the mountain towns she’d passed through during her escape, with ordinary streets and a normal mix of architecture. Its denizens were anything but.
The six council members sat at the eight-foot table. Behind them stood a small red-and-silver, two-legged dragon with bat-like wings, and a dark-skinned centaur male who made Clydesdales look like ponies. It was hard not to stare. They were all right out of the fantasy stories she’d devoured as a child, and better than anything movie special-effects artists could dream up. She didn’t even recognize half of the species in the gathering onlookers.
The meeting was outside because neither the motorcycle-mounted coyotes nor Roehm’s pissed-off pride were willing to leave their vehicles unguarded around the other group. The coyotes, especially the females, laughed at the pride’s post-apocalyptic vehicles and insulted the virility of the felines, who snarled vile insults back. A pair of Roehm’s lynx enforcers flatly refused to leave their vehicle altogether, once they saw the red dragon. Jackie couldn’t blame them since the roof of their jeep still had a gaping tear from where a dragon had clawed off the harpoon gun.
A slim, dazzlingly beautiful golden elf female stood in the center behind the council table. Her clothing seemed to be made of living red-leaf ferns and mosses. An intricate tiara of carved wood held her brass-green hair away from her delicate features. Her eyes said she was far, far older than the teenager she resembled. She watched with apparent disinterest as Roehm and one of the coyote women strode up to the ground tarp from their respective sides.
Two translucent creatures in ghostly armor lowered very real and sharp scimitars to prevent Roehm and the woman from stepping onto the tarp.
The golden elf gestured toward the woman. “We will hear Alpha Zarabitta’s petition first.” More elven magic carried her soft voice right to Jackie’s ear, as if she stood within a few feet. That didn’t startle Jackie nearly as much as the fact that the coyotes’ leader was a confident, muscled, and curvy female. Both Jackie’s ex-lover Barry and Roehm had insisted no male shifter would ever accept a female as alpha. Of course, they’d proven time and again to be liars.
Zarabitta blew Roehm a smart-ass kiss as she stepped forward. Roehm’s lip twisted sourly, but he dropped back a few paces. He could pretend to follow the rules of others when it suited him.
Jackie’s back spasmed with tension. She wished she could sit, but then she’d never see anything. Trevor stepped behind her and pulled her gently against him, wordlessly urging her to relax. His arms wrapped around her, and she allowed herself the comfort of his presence. She didn’t know how it was possi
ble, but she was falling for a man she’d only met the day before. That he was also a shifter didn’t seem to matter anymore. He was a good bear and an honorable, sexy man.
Zarabitta gave a respectful short bow toward the council. “I give thanks to Guivre Gul-Vert and the council for our guest pass into the glade.” Her powerful alto voice had depth and a hint of smoky-bar rasp. “I’ll get straight to the point. Yesterday, with no provocation whatsoever, that bear”—Zarabitta pointed accusingly at her and Trevor—“jumped two of my pack behind Otto’s in Cheyenne and left them for dead. We spotted him this morning in Laramie and followed him here.”
Jackie took an outraged breath to object but stopped when Trevor tightened his arms around her. “Wait,” he whispered. His warm breath in her ear sent a delicious thrill through her. Honestly, her body picked the worst times to take up its own agenda.
“And what do you want with him now?” asked the golden elf.
Zarabitta put her hands on her hips. “Blood for blood. Our training barn.”
Jackie didn’t like the sound of that. She remembered schoolyard fights, and how bullies had preyed on the weaker kids. Trevor’s bear was impressive, but even he couldn’t take on a whole pack.
A handsome lavender-skinned male fairy with sharp features and flashing amethyst eyes stepped out from behind the table. His clothes of draped velvet and lace made him seem frivolous, but the thin wand in his hand belied that. Even from twenty feet away, Jackie could feel the magical power emanating from it. “Consent for a geas spell of truth-speaking?”
Zarabitta frowned. “Yeah, as long as you don’t go fishing for stuff that’s none of your business. But I wasn’t at Otto’s.”
The male with the wand paused and looked toward Guivre, who tilted her head slightly. “Are the injured parties with you now, that we may hear their tale?”
Zarabitta nodded, then turned toward the motorcycles and whistled loudly enough to make Jackie wince. “Wiley! Cody! Get your asses front and center.”
Jackie rarely wished she was taller, but this was one of those times. She couldn’t see anything over the heads of the swelling crowd that had stopped to watch the proceedings. Sounds of a commotion arose from near the motorcycles. Jackie twisted in Trevor’s arms to give him a questioning look. He shrugged and shook his head.
Finally, after long minutes, the crowd parted, and three vest-wearing coyote shifters half-dragged, half-carried Wiley and the other shifter who’d come onto her at the truck stop into view. They shoved them onto the tarp.
Zarabitta stomped toward them. Jackie couldn’t see her face, but her stiff shoulders and fisted hands didn’t bode well for Wiley or Cody.
“This is your third strike, assholes,” Zarabitta bit out. “If you don’t tell me right fucking now why you were running and what really happened yesterday, I will feed you to the wyvern myself.” She pointed a thumb toward the red-and-silver reptile behind the council table. The red dragon… wyvern tested the air with a snake-like forked tongue, then snorted wetly.
Wiley hung his head and said nothing. Cody crossed his arms and jutted out his chin. “It’s too late. Dad’s already reported you to the Shifter Tribunal.” He sneered and spat within inches of Zarabitta’s dusty boots. “Bitches belong in the den with the pups. You ain’t even mated.”
Zarabitta shook her head. “Your dad has ruined you.” She nodded, and two of the coyote shifters latched onto Cody’s arms. “You’re out, Cody. You and your father are exiled for good.” A wave of unknown shifter magic passed by Jackie. Cody shuddered hard from head to toe, and the color drained from his face. He whined a curse.
The two grim-faced coyotes dragged Cody away, ignoring his angry protests and threats.
Zarabitta turned to Wiley. “You have a hard choice to make, son, and not much time.” She tilted her chin toward the direction Cody had gone. “He’s your only litter mate, but he and your dad are mean drunks. You go with them, you’ll either be their meal ticket, or you’ll become them.” She pointed a thumb toward the Kotoyeesinay council. “Tell us all the truth, and you can stay. You’ll be on shit patrol for a while, ’cause you fucked up big time, but you’ve got a good heart.”
Zarabitta backed up two steps and stood, arms crossed. The only sound was the afternoon breeze through the aspen trees and the pounding of Jackie’s heart.
Wiley looked up at Zarabitta, then shot a glance at Jackie before casting his eyes down again. He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Cody was drunk. We wanted to party with that woman, ’cause we thought she was a prostitute. She ran like prey. We chased. Her bear mate knocked us around and commanded us to shift back to human, then left with her. Dad found us in the alley and beat the shit out of us for being pansies.” Wiley seemed to shrink in on himself. “When we caught scent of the bear again, Dad got the idea to send us all off on the chase, while he told the Tribunal you and the pack went rogue. He’s gonna declare himself alpha, with Cody as his second.” His glance flickered toward where Cody could still be heard shouting. “Cody said we had to run, or the elves would make us into pets like that red dragon.”
The wyvern raised its long, sinuous neck and extended its wings. “I am a wyvern, you cretin.” Its refined, upper-crust British accent held deep outrage. “I am no one’s pet.”
Jackie rubbed her arms where the sibilant hiss under the words raised atavistic goosebumps across her skin.
Zarabitta turned and bowed toward the wyvern. “My apologies, Scholar of the Skies. Wiley has shit for brains, but he meant no offense.”
The wyvern’s wings folded, and then it relaxed with a disgruntled “harrumph.” Jackie bit her lip to keep from laughing.
Zarabitta crossed to the center of the tarp and nodded to Jackie and Trevor, then turned and bowed to the council. “I withdraw my request for custody of the bear shifter named Trevor Hammond. We further acknowledge a debt of succor and defense to both him and his future mate, that they may pass on to their immediate offspring.”
A murmur arose from the crowd, and all eyes turned toward her and Trevor. She didn’t have a clue what to say, but thankfully, Trevor did. “No harm done. The debt is acknowledged, and the proposed recompense is accepted.” He tightened his arms around her and whispered in her ear. “I’ll explain later.”
Zarabitta nodded, then turned again to the council. “With your permission, we’d like to ride out.” From near the motorcycles, Cody’s howl changed from human to pure coyote. Zarabitta’s eyes rolled. “Seems I have den cleaning to do.”
The beautiful golden elf nodded. “Farewell, Alpha Leader. Follow the right will-o-the-wisp, and your road will be straight and true.”
Zarabitta bowed again, then strode purposefully toward Wiley and the other coyote, who fell in behind her as she passed. They were swallowed by the crowd as Zarabitta shouted, “Someone tie that moron’s muzzle shut!”
From the far side of the tarp, Roehm and five of his pride watched the action. They looked like extras in a low-budget post-apocalyptic movie. Roehm fixed Jackie with a confident, malevolent stare that promised a slow and painful death. Her first instinct was to hunch into a submissive posture and look away, but Trevor’s strong arms and his deep, throaty rumbling behind her gave her the courage to stand up straight and look Roehm right in the eye. A frown crossed his face, before he smoothed his expression. He put one toe on the tarp and looked at the golden elf female. “Is it my turn?” His tone bordered on insolent.
At Guivre’s nod, the ghostly guard’s scimitar in front of Roehm rose. He headed straight for the middle of the tarp, as if taking center stage. His metal-studded leather jacket tightened as his arms and chest bulged. At well over six feet and heavily muscled, he radiated prime alpha dominance and barely contained berserker rage. The power beat against her temple, like it wanted into her brain. She put her hands protectively over her belly.
Guivre yawned.
The council members tittered and covered their mouths to hide their smiles. The lavender fairy smirked. The centau
r outright laughed. Jackie only just stopped her jaw from dropping.
Roehm’s veneer of civility cracked. He pointed an accusing finger at Jackie. “That human skank stole stuff from me and my pride. She slit the throat of her owner… uh, landlord and stole his motorcycle. She has to pay. Hand her over, and no one gets hurt.”
Guivre tilted her head, almost bird-like. “Have you an invitation?”
Roehm sneered. “I don’t need an invitation. I have a crew.” He pointed a thumb toward his pride members, all enforcers, but kept his eyes trained on the golden elf. “Give ’em a taste, boys. Shift!”
Jackie felt Roehm’s shifter magic command and instinctively covered her stomach with her arms. In the past, the command to shift had given her a powerful cramp, as if her baby was trying to obey, but this time, the magic slid on by her like an errant breeze. Behind her, the deep growl vibrating Trevor’s chest soothed her.
The enforcers stayed human. They looked at one another, surprised, as if the command had slid by them, too. Roehm spared them a fast glance, then did a double take. “Shift!” he ordered and punched out even harder with his alpha power. Nothing happened.
“I’m sorry,” said Guivre coolly, “but we don’t allow uninvited gatecrashers to operate significant magic in our town.” She didn’t sound the least bit apologetic.
Before anyone could react, Roehm pulled out a huge handgun and aimed it straight at Jackie’s chest. “Then I’ll just kill her now and take back what she stole.”
Trevor shoved her behind him and let out an inhumanly loud growl. She wrapped her arms around his waist, willing him to listen. “Stay human. He wants you outside our circle. The bullets are animal poison.”
“Pendragor, if you would be so kind?” Guivre sounded like she was asking someone to pour tea.
Jackie felt rather than saw the power of the wand that the amethyst-eyed fairy had wielded earlier. Roehm yowled in pain. She peeked around Trevor in time to see a puddle of molten metal burning a hole in the tarp. Roehm stumbled away toward the far edge, holding his charred hand to his chest, yowling. He fumbled at his neckline.