Their magics twined through their pressed bodies, gathering into a white light to stream from Zander’s hand, much like what had streamed from Rae into the sword when Zander had healed her. On impulse, Rae reached out and grasped the hilt of the sword, feeling the silver hot against her palm.
The light swelled, overwhelming the room’s fluorescents and the weak daylight coming through the rain-streaked window. Rae realized that the light was also going into Carson, flooding him until his skin glowed. Carson started, but he clenched his jaw and held Vivian’s hand tighter, as though determined to protect her through this weirdness.
The light surged until Rae had to close her eyes. At the same time, Vivian jerked. The machines began to beep like crazy.
Rae forced her eyes open, the light still filling the room. Carson sprang to his feet, though he didn’t let go of Vivian’s hand. “You’re hurting her. Stop!”
Zander either didn’t hear him or he couldn’t obey. He closed both hands over Vivian’s arm, his chant growing louder, its rumble vibrating the room. At the same time the sword let out a rich note that swirled around Rae and drilled straight into her head, like a high-pitched bell. The sound rolled on and on, growing louder until Rae wanted to scream with it.
Vivian gasped. Her eyes flew open, her pale face flushing as blood rushed into it. The monitors went ballistic and Carson’s hand clamped down on Vivian’s. Running feet sounded in the hall, the nurses charging in to see what was happening.
“Carson?” Vivian looked at her husband in confusion. Her voice was weak, scratched, dry. “Who the hell are they?”
She scowled and motioned with her eyes to Zander, who had sat up, his white braids hanging, green and blue beads glinting. Also to Rae, who stood behind him, dressed in a man’s shirt and sweatpants—all Miles could find for her on the boat—clutching an ancient sword.
The nurses burst in and started shouting. Vivian clung to Carson’s hand and Eoin got to his feet.
Rae turned from them all and drew the Sword of the Guardian.
It came out shining, whole, and unblemished, weighing heavily in her hand. The runes glowed, the sword rang once, as though with laughter, and then it quieted.
Zander’s hand closed over Rae’s on the hilt. “Well, look at that.” His voice was weak and he had to lean on Rae to remain upright.
The others in the room were completely ignoring them in the chaos around Vivian’s bed. Vivian’s voice grew stronger as she demanded Carson to tell her if he was all right and what had happened.
“I guess it took both of us together, Little Wolf,” Zander said. He nipped her ear . . . and then he passed out.
* * *
Tiger had managed to capture one of the ferals. Zander found this out after Eoin’s son Colin drove Zander, Rae, and Eoin back to the Montana Shiftertown from the airstrip where they’d landed from Seattle. Zander stumbled out of the pickup at Eoin’s house, exhausted and hoping he and Rae could return to the lake resort—alone.
Sean Morrissey greeted them on the porch. “Hello to you,” he said, his Irish accent going broad. “Guess what we have in the backyard?”
The feral Lupine trussed up in chains near the fire pit was coherent, made that way by fear. Zander guessed fear of Tiger, who stood stoically near him, his arms folded, watching the feral with his intensely focused golden eyes.
Other Shifters from Eoin’s Shiftertown—the clan leaders, the trackers—had gathered to listen, looking grim.
“Tell them what you told us,” Sean prompted the feral.
“You’re all dead,” the feral said. Zander supposed that at one time he’d said this in a defiant tone but his defiance had now been replaced by pure terror. “If you join them, they might be merciful.”
Rae stood next to Zander, the sword’s hilt poking him in the arm. Ever since the thing had been fixed, it had been humming faintly, just a little beyond hearing, bent on driving Zander crazy. Maybe they could break it again.
He still didn’t know exactly how the sword had gone back together. His healing magic had flowed through himself, Rae, Carson, and Vivien, and the sword had joined in. Lots of Goddess magic, pain, suffering, hope, fear, and a shit-ton of love had been swirling around that room. Carson was human, but Shifters had human in them, left over from the faraway days when Fae had messed with genetics and magic to create a man-beast. Maybe the latent humanness in Zander and Rae had touched Carson and Vivien, lending them their Shifter strength.
Or some shit like that. It was hard to tell with Goddess magic. He and Sean should discuss it when they discussed everything else they needed to talk about.
“Join who?” Zander asked the feral sternly.
Sean answered for him. “The Fae. Don’t make him say it.” He shook his head in disgust. “He starts this paean of praise that’s surely sickening, especially coming from the mouth of a Shifter.”
“They have saved me,” the feral said.
Zander, who’d spent most of his life full of messed-up magic, easily recognized it in someone else. “He’s been spelled. Brainwashed. Have you all been?” he asked the feral.
The feral nodded. “They will return, with the Battle Beasts, and destroy all in their path, as they sweep to victory in their most glorious—”
“All right, shut it,” Sean growled. He turned to Eoin. “Basically, the Fae have found a way to enslave un-Collared Shifters, either making them go feral or searching for ones who are already feral—I’m not clear on which. Dylan already knows all this. He asked me to bring this guy to you, Eoin, so you’d understand.”
“Shit,” Zander said. “If they’re already working on manipulating Shifters through their Collars, and now they’ve found a way to ensorcell un-Collared Shifters, that’s going to mean . . .”
“A second Shifter-Fae war,” Eoin speculated glumly. “Well, we knew it was only a matter of time.”
Rae looked worried, her hand stealing to Zander’s. The Shifters had won their freedom from the Fae a thousand and more years ago after a long and terrible struggle.
The tales of Shifter captivity had been passed down through the generations—horror stories of Shifters forced to fight other Shifters as well as Fae warriors, to be cut down by the hundreds. Female Shifters had been forced to create cubs to replace them; packs, prides, and clans had been separated; mates killed as soon as the mate bond formed; experiments performed to create different and stronger kinds of Shifters. What the humans had done to Shifters paled in comparison to what the Fae shits had done.