Tarnished Beginnings: Historical Shifter Fantasy (Soul Dance Book 1) Page 8

  Chapter 13

  Tairin opened her eyes to the night sky. Her head pounded and throbbed, and nausea made her gut clench from the pain.

  “You’re awake!” Relief streamed from the wolf. “I tried and tried to reach you, but you were sunk so deep, I couldn’t rouse you.”

  Groaning, she rolled onto her side and vomited bile from her empty stomach. The spasms stole her breath and made her lightheaded. Lying flat wasn’t helping. Tairin gathered her knees beneath her and straightened her upper body. Her head spun crazily, and she waited for it to settle before trying to stand. Her sack was gone, but the men had left the clothes on her back.

  “Small things,” she muttered, gagging at the bitter taste coating her mouth and tongue.

  Tairin staggered upright and made her way to the nearest stream. It wasn’t far, not more than twenty steps. Once there, she bent and splashed water on her face, swishing it around her mouth. When she probed with her fingers, she found a huge lump at the base of her skull. It was so big, she was surprised the blow hadn’t killed her.

  “Did you see what happened after I blacked out?” she asked.

  “Of course.”

  “Why didn’t they kill me?”

  “They would have raped you, but I intervened.” The wolf growled, low and menacing until it reverberated through her.

  Tairin dropped her aching head into her hands and sluiced more water over herself. “I don’t see bodies. What’d you do?”

  “Separated enough to hover above you as you lay in the dirt. It scared the hell out of them, and they ran like cowardly puppies, invoking Allah’s protection.” Another snarl. “If I’d been able to speak, I’d have told them Allah wouldn’t go out of His way to spit on such as them.”

  “You can do that? Take your form while I still have mine?” Tairin rocked back on her heels. Her headache had moved from impossible to harsh but livable.

  “Not fully, but I can cast an outline of myself. If they’d challenged the vision, they’d have been able to punch their hands right through me.”

  “What happens to your magic when I’m unconscious?”

  “It’s diluted. I can do a few things, like project that image of myself to try to protect you, but not much else.”

  “What would you have done if I’d died?” Tairin felt torn. Part of her selfishly wanted the wolf to follow her into death, but another more sensible part hoped it would keep on living. Find a bondmate worthy of it, not someone like her who knew nothing and was mostly a liability.

  “It didn’t come anywhere close to that,” the wolf snapped off the words. “Do not talk of dying. It tempts fate in bad ways.”

  The distant howl of wolves rang from the south and was immediately answered from the other three directions. Tairin rubbed the back of her head gingerly. The lump was still there, but it seemed to be growing smaller.

  “It is smaller,” the wolf said gruffly. “I’m helping you heal yourself so we can get moving. You’ll miss the things in that bag, but not having it will make our lives easier.”

  Tairin smiled grimly. Nothing left to lose. It did simplify things. A lot. One thing was certain. A woman on her own would have a hard go—of everything. Should she keep to her original plan and head for Alexandria, hoping one of the temples would offer her a place to live in exchange for work?

  The most logical solution for her would be as a servant in a Romani caravan. She understood their ways and their traditions. That might work for a short time, but eventually word of a missing female about her age would leak out. Someone would scan her with magic, discover her secrets, and she’d have to leave. Better not to put down roots in one more place, only to have them ripped out from under her.

  She hunted for her earlier sadness, but couldn’t find it. Not exactly. Mostly, she felt empty inside. As if she’d been stripped of everything and kicked aside, left for worthless.

  The wolves howled again. It had to be past midnight judging from the position of the moon and stars. “Should we shift?” she asked the wolf. The thought of eating made her stomach knot up, but maybe the wolf was hungry and would welcome the chance to hunt.

  “You must be more healed before we shift.”

  “Why? So my injuries don’t weaken you?”

  “Not at all,” the wolf replied. “I want to make certain you’re feeling more yourself. This is new magic for you. You’re still exploring how you and it fit together. You should be stronger before we shift again.”

  She pushed herself to think, to figure out what to do next. Fear rode just beneath the surface. Daylight would increase the chance of discovery, of people, none of whom cared if she lived or died.

  “If we could locate a safe spot, one where we could wait out the next day or two, would you like that?” The wolf’s voice was gentle.

  Tairin nodded numbly. It seemed like too much to ask for, though. “Does someplace like that even exist?”

  “I believe so. This delta is riddled with caves. People have lived here for a very long time. I will lend you my senses so you can smell the remains of fires and settlements.”

  The same mind-bending alteration she’d experienced last time the wolf opened its nose and ears to her shot from her feet to her head. Her skull throbbed, but not much worse than it had before. Multicolored lights flashed, and her nostrils flared at an array of scents. Rich loam. Crushed vegetation. Rodents busy hunting for food. Fish splashing as they ran from predators, intent on catching them.

  She lurched upright from where she’d knelt next to the water, her senses on full alert. Because she wasn’t used to tracking with her nose, she wasted time on several false starts before she picked up the undeniable scent of a place humans had gathered. The scents were faded, faint, which meant people no longer lived there. Had the smells been stronger, she’d have run the other way. People meant trouble, and she didn’t want any more confrontations.

  The last one was my own fault.

  Yeah well, I learned something. Compassion is an indulgence and a dead end street.

  The hours of moving had helped her headache. It was almost gone when she clawed her way through a rubble pile next to a tiny creek almost lost in a tumble of vegetation. Exultation raced through her when she slithered through the hole she’d made into an underground dwelling. No one had been here for a long time, but it was dry and unlikely to be discovered.

  To be on the safe side, she pushed dirt to cover the hole she’d come through. Did she have enough magic to summon a light?

  I don’t need one. I’m safe. For now.

  “Excellent choice,” the wolf said.

  Tairin crawled into a corner and propped herself against a wall. Shutting her eyes, she blanked her mind, not wanting to relive anything about the last few hours. Not the poor little boy, or the men who’d robbed her. If it hadn’t been for the wolf, she’d have lost a whole lot more than her possessions. She’d have been raped and maybe even murdered.

  Daylight came and went twice—filtering through thin places in the dirt she’d shoved over the hole—before she felt ready to do anything but hide. She and the wolf had come out for water and to hunt, but never for very long. Night had fallen a few hours ago, and she leaned against the spot she’d claimed when she first found the cave.

  “This isn’t any kind of life,” she told the wolf.

  “No, but you had to decide that. Me telling you wouldn’t have worked.”

  “I’ll live a long time, right?”

  “Yes, you will.”

  “This isn’t a workable world for me as a human. Let’s take your form and wait out fifty years or so. It’s possible things might improve for a woman by herself if we wait things out.”

  “We can take my form,” the wolf spoke slowly, thoughtfully, “but that’s too long a time. If you remain in my body too long, you’ll never find your own again.”

  “Fine. So we can shift every few years for a short while. Just to test the waters. If nothing’s gotten better, back to wolves we go.”


  The more she talked about it, the more feasible it felt. No more hiding in shadows. No more cringing every time someone looked at her. No more smothering her kindheartedness over someone like the little boy who was being beaten.

  “Easy to say now,” the wolf cautioned. “Harder to do. The longer you’re a wolf, the less you’ll want to be human again, and the impetus for the shift must come from you, not me.”

  “What is it you’re not saying?” She leaned forward and wrapped her arms around her knees.

  “You must promise me you won’t abandon your human parts.”

  “What if I don’t?”

  “Then I shall request to be released from our bond.”

  The wolf’s response felt like a kick in her guts. “You’d leave me? Over me wanting to be a wolf?”

  “Stop reacting and start listening.” The wolf’s voice was stern. “What I said was you had to give me your word you’d not relinquish your humanity. Can you do that? Only a few days ago, it was precious to you.”

  Tairin unclasped her arms and slumped against the wall. “Yes, I can do that. Why is it so important? Important enough you’d sever our bond.”

  “Shifter law is quite clear. A human cannot take on the animal’s form indefinitely. It alters the natural order of things and will eventually impact all shifters adversely.”

  The wolf sounded as if it was quoting from memorized lessons. “Do something for me, please.”

  “If it’s within my power.”

  “While we’re in your body, tell me more about shifters. I know next to nothing.”

  “I will try. The longer we’re wolves, though, the less time we’ll spend talking about esoteric topics. They don’t come easily to the animal part of our shared nature.”

  “It’s a fair answer.”

  “I will do the best I can.”

  “That’s all I can ask for.”

  Wolf song rose outside the cave dwelling. Tairin took it as an omen she’d chosen the right path. She sent magic spiraling wide. No one was about, so she crawled out the grotto where she’d sheltered.

  “Ready when you are,” she told the wolf.

  “Remember your promise.”

  “I will.”

  “Then I’m ready. Call the shift magic.”

  Tairin slipped out of her skirt and tunic, hanging them over a nearby bush. Maybe a passing woman could use them. She visualized the wolf and felt the change take her, relieved to have found a way out of the cruel and arbitrary world of men. Not forever, but for now.

  Once she had fur and fangs and claws, she broke into an easy lope, heading for the nearest group of wolves. They might chase her away, but they might not.

  “Let’s tell them we’re on our way.” The wolf stopped and tossed its muzzle back to howl.

  Other wolves howled back, and Tairin ran to meet them.

  You’ve reached the end of Tarnished Beginnings, the prequel to the Soul Dance series. The next book, Tarnished Legacy, jumps forward two hundred years. Tairin welched on her promise and spent half that time as a wolf. By the time her wolf forced her to shift, she almost couldn’t find her human body, and she’d forgotten how to talk. A sample of Tarnished Legacy follows. It’s novel (as opposed to novella) length and is available on every e-vendor site and in paperback. For more information and buy links, check out the book’s page on my website. https://www.anngimpel.com/?portfolio=tarnished-legacy-soul-dance-book-two

  About the Author

  Ann Gimpel is a USA Today bestselling author. A lifelong aficionado of the unusual, she began writing speculative fiction a few years ago. Since then her short fiction has appeared in a number of webzines, magazines, and anthologies. Her longer books run the gamut from urban fantasy to paranormal romance to science fiction. Once upon a time, she nurtured clients. Now she nurtures dark, gritty fantasy stories that push hard against reality. When she’s not writing, she’s in the backcountry getting down and dirty with her camera. She’s published more than 50 books to date, with several more planned for 2017 and beyond. A husband, grown children, grandchildren, and wolf hybrids round out her family.

  Keep up with her at www.anngimpel.com or http://anngimpel.blogspot.com

  If you enjoyed what you read, get in line for special offers and pre-release special reads. Newsletter Signup!

  Tarnished Legacy, Book Description

  Germany, 1940

  Half Romani, Tairin’s no stranger to hiding her mixed blood from gypsy caravans. What she can’t hide is her perpetual youth, courtesy of her shifter heritage. Every few years, she drops out of sight, resurfacing in a new country to join a caravan where no one knows her. She’s overstayed her welcome where she is, but Germany is at war, and travel has become all but impossible for everyone targeted by the Reich.

  Elliott’s clairvoyance is strong, even for a Romani. Seer for all the caravans in Germany, he catches Tairin eavesdropping outside their leader’s wagon one night. He should turn her in, but it would mean her execution, and he can’t bring himself to do that. Instead, he interrogates her. Her magic is different, but he can’t figure out quite what she is.

  Any association between Romani and shifters is forbidden, and Tairin shields herself from Elliott’s probing. She should leave right now, tonight. It would be easy enough. Shift to her wolf form and run, keeping out of hunters’ gunsights. She’s on the edge of flight when Elliott suggests a covert task to prove her loyalty. Tairin agrees immediately, kicking herself for being weak where he’s concerned. Shifters and Romani have no future together. Zero. Zilch.

  She should be smart about this and vanish into the night—before he discovers what she is and destroys her.

  Prologue

  January 1940

  Munich, Germany

  Elliott Brend moved his hands in a circular pattern over three lit candles, the stench of wax made from sheep fat sharp in his nostrils. Patterns danced like mad creatures on the walls of his grotto, and he chanted faster to bring his casting to life.

  Darkness swirled, surrounding him. The candles guttered and died, their wicks drowning in pools of grease. Elliott bolted to his feet, hands extended, still working the spell he’d summoned. Fear thickened his tongue, but he couldn’t stop now. Partially cast spells would make it possible for the demon he’d apparently conjured to drag him back to Hell with it. Usually this casting brought visions, not an actual entity.

  The temperature in the grotto plummeted until ice crystals formed in the air. Wind wailed, thin and menacing. Shudders racked him.

  “Why have you freed me? Not that I’m complaining, mind you.” The words echoed around Elliott, chilling him further. “Speak, human. While you still can.”

  Elliott tried. Instead of words, a breathy croak emerged. He swallowed around his dry-as-dust throat. “F-future,” he stammered. “What will happen? Many of the Rom have been captured.”

  Unholy laughter drove into Elliott’s brain like overheated nails. It took all his self-control not to clap his hands over his ears, but if he did that, he’d be lost. His spell would falter, as would his tenuous hold on the demon. He’d be damned if he’d cede the upper hand to it.

  Who am I kidding? It already has all the power it needs.

  “You scarcely require me for future-telling,” the disembodied voice said. At least the profane laughter had stopped. After the briefest pause, it added, “Flee while you can. Or the Rom will die out—here and elsewhere.”

  “Why do you care?” The words tore out of Elliott before he could stop himself.

  “About your people? I don’t, but magical energy will keep me on this side of Hell. Along with death. Fear helps too.” A low, menacing chuckle punctuated the demon’s words. “It’s a perfect mix. You can blame the Nazis for my freedom. They provided an ideal medium. Coupled with your drawing spell, it allowed me to pierce the veil.”

  Elliott gathered power, letting it surge through him. The demon may have ridden in on the coattails of his earlier spell, but he couldn’t allow it to remain. Too m
uch evil was running unchecked as it was. Sparks crackled from his fingertips, burning him until his flesh smoked. The incantation, a surefire way to banish Hell’s minions, crashed to the rotting wooden floor in a shower of glowing embers.

  “Don’t waste your magic, human.”

  “It’s not a waste to return you to your proper place,” Elliott snarled, wishing he could see the fucking thing.

  “Try that last trick again, and you’re a dead man.”

  Elliott sucked in a frustrated breath. He’d suspected the Rom were in serious danger. Signs they’d soon be targeted en masse, right along with the Jews, were impossible to ignore. All he’d sought this night was corroboration—and now he had it. He changed the cadence and timbre of his chant, hoping for an end to his spell, the hideous cold, and the abomination that scared the shit out of him. All he wanted now was for it to leave since returning it to Hell was beyond his ability.

  “I am not leaving yet,” the voice informed him. “You have no power over me, but you’ve already figured that out. Evil has risen. Rampant. Ubiquitous. As I noted earlier, it feeds me, right along with your magic.”

  Elliott clamped his jaws together to stop his teeth from chattering. What had he loosed on the world? “You must return at some point.” He infused compulsion into his words. “If not today, or tomorrow, then surely soon. The dynamic balance between worlds will fail if you remain on Earth.”

  Laughter again. This time, it was even more loathsome and obnoxious.

  “You haven’t been paying attention, human. That dynamic balance? It’s on its way out.” Still laughing, the thing’s foul presence receded.