Race tried to hold back his gasp but didn’t quite manage. Holy shit.
“Now,” Scarlata turned, her wings disappearing once again, “let’s see if we can fix you.”
Mara took the folletta’s outstretched hand automatically, still trying to process the fact that this woman had wings.
Amazingly beautiful pink wings that made Mara want to smile. She vaguely remembered reading stories as a child about the enu and the fata.
“Have a seat, Mara. Sal and I are going to do a little preliminary examination and then we’ll see if we can break that spell.”
“Nothing to worry about.” The little half-goat man jumped onto the seat next to hers. “Those damn Mal won’t get the best of us.”
Realizing she still held the whiteboard, she looked behind her for Race, who was undoing Arin from his carrier while Selvans watched. The god had a strange look on his face, almost sad.
Are you sure this will work?
She wasn’t sure how much more disappointment she could take. If this didn’t work, she would have to accept that nothing would. That she’d be without her voice forever.
Tears began to well, but Scarlata scowled down at her and she blinked them back.
“None of that now,” the woman said with enough steel in her voice that Mara’s back straightened in response. “I have no doubt this will work. And neither will you.”
Mara felt as if she should say yes ma’am and snap out a salute. And marveled that she still had a sense of humor.
“All right then,” the little goat-legged man said. “Let’s get this show on the road.”
Mara frowned and Sal patted her hand. “Just a figure of speech. Although you might want to hold on to the table. This could sting a little.”
With a quick motion, Sal slapped one hand around her neck and Mara’s vision went black as pain rushed through her.
From somewhere far away, she heard Race shout, calling her name. He sounded frantic but she couldn’t open her eyes and there was no way she could call out to him.
She lost all sense of time in the dark void that enveloped her so when Sal finally removed his hand and she could see again, it took her several seconds to regain her bearings.
As she blinked her vision back into focus, the first thing she saw was Race’s face directly in front of her, wearing an expression she’d never seen on him before.
Fear.
She reached for him automatically but he’d already grabbed her and pulled her against him.
“What the fuck was that?”
His voice had dropped to a growl that would’ve made anyone else cower on the ground. Sal barely paid any attention to Race as he turned to Scarlata. Mara followed Sal’s gaze and registered the woman’s extremely pissed-off expression.
“That bastard.” Scarlata sounded just as furious as Race. “Selvans, he’s been fucking around with the Mal again.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Race demanded.
Still holding the baby, Selvans walked over to join the little group. “I was afraid of that.” The god turned to her and gave another one of those apologetic smiles. “It seems Veive is working with the Mal.”
Mara shook her head. The name didn’t ring a bell but Race stiffened against her. “He laid the spell?”
Sal gave a disgusted sigh. “He had a hand in it. Shit. I was hoping the rumors were wrong.”
As if he’d read her mind, Race asked, “What rumors?”
“That there are lines being drawn.”
Race went silent, as if he understood what Selvans had said. Since she didn’t, she raised her hands.
“What lines?”
No one answered her right away and she wasn’t sure if it was because they didn’t understand her or they didn’t have an answer.
Finally, after everyone had exchanged glances, Sal looked her straight in the eyes. “Sweetheart, the bastard who helped cast that spell on you was Veive, God of Revenge. And the bastard apparently has aligned himself with the Mal for the upcoming power struggle. Otherwise known as war. Shit.” Sal turned to shake his head at Selvans. “Who else do you think they’ve got?”
Selvans sighed. “I have no idea. But,” he gave Mara a weary-looking smile, “that’s a conversation for another day. Right now, we need to make good on our promise to Mara. Race, take Arin into the front room.”
Race wanted to argue. She could tell by the way he held so still and the stiffness of his jaw.
Lifting her hand to stroke her fingers against his cheek, she waited until he looked at her. Then she signed, “I’ll be okay.”
It took him at least thirty seconds to comply and the look he shot Sal could have sliced through wood. But when he took Arin from Selvans, he kept his gaze downcast.
Selvans didn’t say anything, just patted his shoulder as he walked out. “You too, Justin. Take Tina. And don’t let him come back in here until I tell you.”
As soon as the other man nodded and left, Selvans sat at the table next to Mara.
“Now, sweetheart, I’m not going to lie to you. This is probably going to hurt like hell. And there’s a good possibility Veive is going to know we broke his spell. He may even be able to trace you, at least until the spell dissipates. I’ve got this place pretty well shielded but there’s always a possibility.”
She reached for the whiteboard.
Do you think I should?
“I think if you’re going to do it, now’s the time, this is the place and we’re your best shot.”
Then let’s do it.
Selvans nodded, his expression becoming a study in seriousness. “Sal, Scarlata, hold her down. And don’t let go.”
Chapter Seven
Race couldn’t hear a damn thing coming from the kitchen and he knew someone had thrown up a sound barrier.
Which made him crazy.
“Hey, man. I think the little guy would appreciate being able to breathe a little better.”
Shit. Race immediately loosened the arms around Arin, who stared up at him with wide eyes. If the kid could talk, he’d definitely be telling Race to get a grip. Just not around him.
“So you’re versipellis.” Justin sat across from him, the baby in his arms asleep. “Haven’t had too many here.”
“And what exactly is this place?”
Race decided if he couldn’t be with Mara, he’d at least get some answers.
“Sanctuary,” Justin said. “For those Etruscans who need it.”
“Are they in danger?”
“Some have been, yes. Some just find it easier to live here. Away from people who might not be as…tolerant of what they are.”
“And what are you?”
Justin smiled. “Just a guy in love with a girl who has wings.”
Race figured there was a little more to the story but didn’t pursue it. Instead he forced himself to tend to Arin, get the kid out of the bulky snowsuit so he could at least have some range of motion.
“So, you and Mara. More than just friends?”
He answered without thought. “Yeah.”
“And she’s on board with that?”
He fucking hoped so. “Yeah.”
“And the guy who had this spell laid on her, righteous prick, huh?”
“You could say that. If he wasn’t dead already, I’d kill him again. Slower.”
“Dude. I like you. So, this whole baby thing. Weird, right? I mean,” Justin looked down at the bundle in his arms with a smile Race could only call goofy, “I can’t imagine my life without her but before she was born, I couldn’t imagine how the hell life was going to work with her in it.”