Sabrina settled more firmly onto the wolf’s back and closed her eyes. Meditation was something she’d done since she was a teenager. She found it helped her to tap into her higher self, the kernel of inner wisdom that easily got lost in the hustle and bustle of life. It also helped her focus her talents, both the tarot reading and the painting.
It had been weeks since she’d meditated. Not since she’d returned from her trip to North Dakota, and that just wasn’t like her at all. Well, there was no time like the present. Sabrina focused on the wolf beneath her and the one tattooed on her back. The wolf was her totem animal, her protector.
She took a deep breath and slowly released it. Her heartbeat slowed, and her body felt heavy. She’d never told anyone before, not even her granny, but sometimes when she meditated it felt as though she traveled to other places and dimensions and talked to the most interesting people. They were more vision quests than meditations, and they were both exhilarating and scary at the same time.
Was that why the evil entity had latched onto her? Had she inadvertently encouraged it or attracted it during one of her deep meditation sessions or one of her vision quests? The very idea made her feel slightly nauseous.
More than a little unsettled, she opened her eyes and started to slide from the wolf’s back. Before she’d moved more than an inch or two, the creature seemed to move beneath her, forcing her to grab his neck to keep from taking a tumble. Stretched out over his back, she clung to him using her arms and legs. “What the hell is going on?”
Laughter echoed around her, dark and ominous. She recognized it from her dreams. “Oh, shit.” The wolf raised his massive head, tilted it back and howled, the mournful sound bouncing off the ceiling and walls. Sabrina closed her eyes and buried her face against his neck, feeling the brush of his fur against her cheek.
Impossible. Yet it was happening.
In the background, music began to play. It was tinny and seemed to be coming from far away. It was music with no words, but the kind one immediately associated with carnival rides, especially carousels.
“This isn’t real.” She forced her eyes open and turned her head. Her apartment was spinning around her, or maybe she was the one spinning and not the apartment. “Stop,” she yelled, but there was no one to pay any attention to her.
She was forced to close her eyes as the blur of movement was making her stomach roil. Her temples throbbed and lights seemed to burst from behind her eyelids, making her wonder if she was having some kind of migraine-induced hallucination.
The muscles in her arms and legs trembled as she clung to the wolf. No longer inanimate wood, the creature was all muscle and sinew as it shifted beneath her. His long claws scraped over the wood floor as they spun wildly in place. He howled again, as though he didn’t like what was happening any more than she did.
Her fingers slipped and she yelled, grabbing on extra tight. This had to end soon, didn’t it? Her phone rang. It might as well have been five miles away rather than less than five feet. She couldn’t reach it and call for help.
She began to pray. To God, to her granny, to all the saints she could think of, but nothing made the spinning stop. Sabrina felt herself slip to one side and knew she couldn’t hang on any longer. She prayed she didn’t break any major bones when she hit the floor.
Giving into the inevitable, she forced her eyes open and tried to time her fall to coincide with a turn toward the sofa. Maybe she’d bypass the coffee table and land on the cushions. Or maybe she’d crash into the far wall or the bookcase instead.
She counted to five and let go, flinging herself to the side. The wolf howled as though he was in excruciating pain, but she couldn’t worry about him now. She smashed into the edge of the coffee table before rolling onto the sofa. Her head hit the arm of the sofa and she blinked as the world threatened to go black.
Mordecai prowled through the thick woods of the Cascade Mountains, moving swiftly from tree to tree, using them to mask his movements. He inhaled the fresh scent of damp earth and evergreen even though it stung his lungs and made his eyes burn. Too much time in Hades’ domain was changing him physically as well as mentally. He shrugged off the pain and inhaled again to remind himself of why he was doing what he was doing. He had a plan and nothing could stop him now. Neither Hades nor the Lady.
Each step he took was pure pleasure after spending so many centuries locked in stasis. He welcomed the stretch of his muscles and the crunch of the ground beneath his booted feet.
He’d enjoyed many pleasures since being released decades before. Food, drink, women, he’d had his fill of all of them, enjoying what had been taken from him so long ago. But his enjoyment had been tempered by the fact that his torment wasn’t over and wouldn’t be until the curse was broken for all of them once and for all.
What had the Lady been thinking to curse them as she had? He immediately dismissed the question as irrelevant. All that mattered was here and now.
He wound his way steadily through the woods, ignoring the silence that preceded him. All the animals fled as soon as they scented him, sensing the predator within. The stench of Hell clung to him, permeating his very pores.
A sardonic smile crossed his face. Brimstone and death—he should bottle it and see if it would sell.
He was getting closer to the Lady now. Could sense her presence just up ahead. He wondered why she didn’t flee from him as the animals had. Surely she knew Hades had sent him to destroy her. The Lady might have lost the battle with Hades, but she was anything but stupid. In fact, she was much more intelligent than the Greek god would ever be.
The path opened up before him, the tall redwoods parting to reveal a small glade with a tiny steam running alongside it. She was perched on a rock, staring into the water as it trickled and bubbled its way along. She was clad in a flowing gown of green, her feet bare. Her long hair cascaded down her back and pooled behind her on the rock. The colors were just as vibrant as he remembered—every shade of brown from light tan to rust. Her eyes would be blue, as pale as the sky on a summer’s day. She was the earth personified.
She slowly turned her head and watched him approach.
“Lady.” He gave her a mocking bow.
“Mordecai.” He shuddered at the sound of his name leaving her lips. He never thought he’d hear it again.
“You know why I am here?” Of course, she knew. The Lady was nobody’s fool.
“I know.” Her serene expression never wavered, and that pricked Mordecai’s temper. He manifested his sword from thin air and held it above his head. She glanced at it but otherwise gave no sign she was the least bit concerned. “There is no hurry, is there?”
He slowly lowered the sword back to his side and asked the one question that had tormented him for more than five thousand years. “Why?”
There was no need to explain any further. She knew he wanted to know why she’d cursed her warriors to a living death for all these years.
Sorrow radiated from her like a beacon, making his chest ache. He steeled himself against such emotion. “Ah, Mordecai, you always had such trouble with trust.”
She pushed off the rock and walked toward him, stopping a few feet in front of him. The grass beneath her feet seemed to rise to cushion her soles as they crossed it. The trees bent, their branches shading her from the rays of the setting sun. The wind gently caressed her skin and teased the thick strands of her hair.
He wanted to hate her but could not.
“Why? I could not bear for my loyal warriors to be locked in Hell where Hades’ demons could torment you for eternity.”
“We could have won.” That had always rankled him. She’d given up, not believing they could defeat Hades’ minions.