Tarnished Legacy: Shifter Paranormal Romance (Soul Dance Book 2) Read online

  That section brought him to the end of the book, so he closed its cracked leather binding. Rising to his knees, he piled it and the others back inside Michael’s trunk and secured the lid. Hours had passed while he dug through the books. Where was Tairin? Had she returned? His magic had recovered somewhat, and he sent a thread zinging outward in search of her energy. While he was at it, he looked for Michael.

  Neither was anywhere close. Alarm drove him to his feet. Michael was probably with the other elders. They could take care of themselves, but Tairin was by herself…

  She’s a wolf. And she has stronger magic than any Romani. She’ll be fine.

  His words made sense, but they didn’t mitigate his fears for her. Elliott headed outside, intent on saddling Flame and hunting for Tairin. She might not need him, but he needed her. The insight rocked him to his bones. Once he’d kicked the door to his feelings open, longing for Tairin spilled through him. He’d always cared about her, but he was a master at shunting his own emotions aside.

  No more. He’d find her and tell her how important she was to him. That he was falling in love with her and wanted to join his life to hers.

  He tossed a blanket over Flame’s back, following it with his saddle.

  The boy tending the horses rose from a hay bale and trotted to Elliott as he mounted up. “They’re none of ’em back yet.” The boy sounded uncertain. “You thinking there’s trouble? Should I round up the women and wagons and get us moving down the road?”

  Elliott stared hard at the young man, impressed by his courage. He was clearly frightened, but he’d already assimilated the lesson that men took care of women. “Alert everyone that we might be pulling out before the end of today, but don’t leave yet,” Elliott said tersely. “We need a plan of where we’re going, and right now, we don’t have one.”

  “I’ll make sure everyone is ready.” The lad took off running for the far end of the circle of wagons.

  Tairin gave the wolf its head. They ran through shadowed hills looming above the busy, convoluted tangle of Munich’s streets. She didn’t have to warn her bondmate to skirt small farms and other places they might run into a disgruntled farmer with a shotgun.

  After its “I told you so” about Elliott’s unexpected reaction to their transformation and its disclosures about her father, the wolf had been uncharacteristically silent. Tairin was grateful because it offered her an opportunity to think about the tall Romani. Many of the men were players, moving from one willing woman to the next, but not Elliott. If he’d had dalliances, he’d kept them brief and private. In truth, she’d viewed him as married to his magic. A concept she understood.

  The sun moved higher in the sky, and she was about to suggest they head back to the rundown castle where she’d left her clothes when a hint of Rom magic reached her hypersensitive lupine nose. What were Romani doing all the way out here? She lifted her snout, sorting scents. When she identified Michael and Stewart, she was certain it was the group of elders.

  Had they taken to the hills to weave some arcane brand of magic?

  “We should see what they’re about,” her wolf said.

  “Spying on them feels wrong,” she retorted.

  “How is it any different from what you were doing outside Michael’s wagon last night?”

  If she’d been human, it would’ve taken effort not to laugh. Her wonderfully pragmatic wolf had thrown her hypocrisy in her face. “It’s not,” she replied. “Just don’t get us caught.”

  “Elliott caught you last night. I’d say that turned out pretty well,” the wolf observed archly.

  She thought about saying she had no idea how last night would turn out, but held her tongue. She wanted Elliott, probably more than was good for her, but a Rom and a shifter had no future together. Her parents were living proof of that, and she didn’t plan to repeat their mistakes. The expression of awe on Elliott’s face once she’d shifted filled her mind, and her resolve weakened.

  Tairin shoved the dilemma aside, grateful she didn’t have to solve it right now. She’d end up doing the right thing, whatever it might be—even if she left pieces of her heart along the way.

  The wolf picked a path parallel to the group of Romani men, following them to a deserted cottage at the edge of a meadow. Sharp escarpments rose on two sides behind the stone structure, and a rushing creek burbled not far from it. The wolf shinnied beneath a bramble thicket on its belly, selecting a vantage point that gave them a clear view of the cottage. She watched the group of elders shuffle over the lintel and into what had likely been a sheepherder’s cottage. From the smell of things, the place had been deserted for many years.

  Romani magic swirled around the little house—obfuscation spells designed to keep words spoken within from anyone else’s ears. Tairin carved a small, unobtrusive opening. What was the point of putting herself at risk if she couldn’t hear what the men had to say?

  “We need consensus,” Michael thundered. “I wasn’t about to have our shouting match continue where my people could hear and worry themselves sick. We’re leaders for our people. That means we provide clear direction as free from dissension as possible.”

  “You just didn’t care for our assessment,” a man whose voice she didn’t recognize cut in.

  “Indeed. Half of us wish to take our chances traveling back toward Egypt. Our reasons for leaving the Middle East evaporated a hundred years ago,” another voice said.

  “Ye’ll never make it.” Stewart’s brogue was unmistakable, his tone flat. “Too many countries and too many borders to cross. Once the Rom were welcome everywhere, not anymore. Winter will make travel difficult too.”

  “We can’t wait until spring,” the first man said in a more reasonable tone. “I’ve thought this through. Clearly, we all wouldn’t leave together. Maybe we could stagger the caravans by a week or two. And some of us could take a more northerly route through Poland.”

  “Another bad idea,” Michael said. “Anywhere there are Germans, we’ll run into the same hatred that’s driving us out of Germany’s cities.”

  “I refuse to believe our kind will die out at the hands of the Reich,” another voice said. “As leader for my caravan, I’ve made my decision. I’m leaving. Wish me luck.”

  “We’re leaving with him,” the first man who’d spoken said. “No point remaining all the way out here a moment longer. There’s serious work to be done before my caravan is ready to depart.”

  Amid a spate of muttered apologies, the cottage door that was hanging half off its hinges opened, and seven of the twelve men filed out. After a hurried exchange of wishes for good fortune, open fires, and wind at their backs, the group got on their horses and took off at a lope for town.

  Sadness rose, making Tairin’s heart hurt.

  “Romani killed your mother,” the wolf reminded her.

  “Yes, but they’re also the closest thing I have to family.”

  If she’d been in her human body, she’d have blinked back tears as frustration vied with anger and shame. She should hate the Rom for what they’d done to her mother, but she couldn’t find it in herself to hang onto her outrage.

  “They’ve only become your family because they have no idea what you are,” the wolf retorted.

  No one would ever come out on top in this conversation, so she didn’t pursue it. The wolf had an uncanny way of cutting to the heart of things. While its observations were often uncomfortable, it didn’t make them any less true.

  Tairin cleared her mind, preparing to continue listening in on Michael, Stewart, and the other three men. She thought about who had left and decided Keenan and Alex were inside. She didn’t know the last man’s name. A tall, rangy blond, his long hair was turning gray, and he spoke German with a strong, Romanian accent.

  “What’ll it be?” Michael sounded defeated. Tairin could almost imagine his shoulders slumping. See his dark eyes pinched with worry. Like many Rom, he was dark and swarthy with a thickly built body and legs bowed from long years on horseback.


  “We canna verra well move all five of our caravans together,” Stewart said. “As ’tis, we attract notice.”

  “Should we sell the horses and buy automobiles?” Keenan asked in his gravelly voice. Michael’s twin, he was leader to his own caravan.

  “I wish I knew,” Michael replied. “Before we left, I tasked our strongest women with looking into the future.”

  “If Elliott failed, surely they will as well,” Stewart muttered. He’d kept to his native kilts, and his red hair always hung to his knees in a series of tight braids.

  “There are checkpoints at every border,” Keenan said. “Whether they stop us and tear our wagons apart or our cars, I’m not sure it makes much difference.”

  “We have waited too long as it is.” The man she couldn’t name spoke up. “If you recall, my counsel was that we should leave many months ago.”

  “Aye, Valentin. I do remember that,” Stewart said. “’Tis sorry I am I dinna heed that advice and move my caravan back to Scotland.”

  At least now I know his name, she thought.

  “We can’t live in the past.” Weariness rode beneath Michael’s words. “What will each of you do with your caravans? Will you go to ground here or flee?”

  Tairin’s attention shifted to the pounding of hooves closing fast, but still at least a quarter mile distant. Before she could direct her magic in that direction to see who was coming, her wolf said, “It’s Elliott and his mellow stallion that likes us.”

  “Did he track the men—or us?”

  “Does it matter?” the wolf replied.

  “Yes. If he came looking for us, we need to meet him far enough from the cottage the others don’t see him cozying up with a wolf.”

  Lupine whuffling that passed for laughter rolled through her mind, and the wolf backed out from under the bramble thicket and loped downhill, toward Elliott and his galloping horse.

  Chapter 7

  Elliott urged Flame to move faster. He’d come across the seven Rom elders on their way back to the wagons, and they’d told him where to find Michael. No one had said anything about seeing a wolf, and Elliott hadn’t asked. He’d been tracking both Tairin and Michael when he ran into the tight knot of men with faces serious enough to curdle new milk.

  It couldn’t be accidental she’d traveled so close to the men’s track. A grin played about Elliott’s mouth. Apparently eavesdropping came naturally to her. The men crossed her path had probably been happenstance, but once they did, it piqued her curiosity and she ran with it.

  Flame whinnied and reared, tossing his head. Elliott sent soothing magic into the stallion’s mind while he raked the countryside with his gaze, trying to figure out what had spooked his mount. A short, gruff bark sent him catapulting off his horse. He stopped long enough to hobble a nervous Flame with magic and took off running toward the sound. It had to be Tairin. Her energy was thick here, and Flame had no doubt sensed the wolf.

  Elliott threw his magic wide open. Tairin’s unique feel pulled him like a magnet. He ducked into a copse of trees, delighted when he saw the wolf, tongue lolling, tail pluming, breath steaming in the chill air. He halted abruptly. If she’d been in her human body, he’d have wrapped her in his arms.

  No reason not to now.

  He sank into a crouch and held out his arms. Like she’d done earlier in the underground grotto, she came to him and leaned into his touch while he buried his hands in her fur, inhaling her clean, wild scent.

  “I was worried about you when you didn’t return. Checked the grotto and found your clothes, but you hadn’t been there.” He kept his voice low. He didn’t sense any other people about, but it paid to be safe.

  “I would have been back long since. Actually, I was on my way to retrieve my clothes when the elders trooped by us.”

  “And you got curious, huh?” He riffled her fur.

  “I figured we—” she stressed the last word “—needed all the information we could lay our hands on. So yes, I stayed to listen.”

  “I got a rundown from the men heading back to their respective caravans,” Elliott said. “Did Michael and Stewart and the ones left here come to any decisions?”

  “They hadn’t when my wolf sensed you. We thought it best to intercept you before you got close enough one of them might have seen you talking with us.”

  Elliott furrowed his brow in thought. “Too bad your clothes are so far away. We could both show up at the cottage and join in the discussion.”

  “No point wishing for the impossible. You need to go right now and talk with them. Once they know about the vampires, it will change everything.”

  “Maybe.” Elliott wasn’t so sure about that. The Rom had enough to worry about without fighting a war they might not see as theirs.

  “But it is their war. Sorry. I was inside your head just now.”

  “No need to apologize. How is it their war?”

  “Vampires are strengthening the SS. By that token, they’re allied with the Reich. The Nazis hate us. We’re part of whom they’ve targeted for destruction—”

  Elliott stroked the soft fur on her muzzle. “You can stop. I understand. The friend of my enemy is also my enemy.”

  She nudged him with her nose. “Right, even if it is a perversion of the original quote. Now hurry. It didn’t seem to me that Michael and the other elders would be there much longer.”

  “Where will you be?”

  “I’ll wait for you in your grotto. I’m tired, so I’ll try to sleep once I’m dressed.”

  Elliott didn’t think about it before he bent and kissed the tip of the wolf’s nose. The wolf licked him effusively before jerking its head away. “Get moving.”

  “I will. No time now, but we need to talk about what I found in the lore books about shifters and Rom.”

  “What?” Her mind voice took on a closed off aspect, and Elliott kicked himself for opening an important topic when he didn’t have time to finish it.

  He reached for her head again, but she jerked away. “Tairin, sweetheart. It isn’t anything bad at all. More like an urban myth that grew with the telling. Long ago two half-breed Rom produced a devil child. To be on the safe side, the elders forbade Rom from mating outside the blood. That’s all.” He hesitated. “Don’t you see? There’s no reason we can’t care about each other. None at all.”

  The wolf whined softly. “There’s more.”

  “Of course there is, but I just hit the important points. I’ll tell you everything, plus I read up on vampires too. As soon as I get to the grotto, you’ll know exactly what I do.”

  “Promise?”

  “On all the gods’ blood.” Elliott invoked an old Romani saying.

  “We like blood,” the wolf chimed in. “Now get moving.”

  When he bent and hugged the wolf this time, it didn’t wriggle away from his embrace. Elliott took it as a good sign. “See you soon,” he said. “Both of you.”

  He dismantled the enchantment around Flame as he ran to the stallion and vaulted onto his back. Elliott didn’t realize how close he’d been to the cottage until he felt Rom magic pulsate. If he hadn’t been sensitive to its particular feel and scent—cloves mixed with cut grass—he’d have ridden right by the solid, stone cottage that looked as if it had been built at least a hundred years ago.

  A staunch leap moved him to the ground, and he directed Flame to wait with the small group of mounts milling behind the cottage, partially obscured by the same spell that locked the house away from prying eyes.

  He pushed through a door that had long since lacked hardware to lock it and walked into a single room running the length and breadth of the structure. It was cold inside, but no one had bothered to light the blackened hearth. Probably because smoke would have been impossible to mask.

  “I had a feeling ye’d turn up.” Stewart trained his shrewd, dark eyes on Elliott.

  “Och aye.” Elliott aped the other man’s brogue. “I’m a sucker for lost causes, though I have reason to believe ours is n
ot yet completely beyond salvage.” He joined the men’s rough circle and crouched to be on a level with the others. “We have another problem.”

  “Yes?” Michael raised one eyebrow. “Something that supersedes escaping the eye of the Reich?”

  “They’re entwined. Last night, Tairin and I snuck into Dachau and poisoned food for at least fifty SS officers and trainees. They’ll be dead by nightfall or shortly thereafter.”

  “You took a woman with you?” A shocked look blossomed on Valentin’s high cheekboned face. He looked like the Mongols who’d been his ancestors with sharp features, straight blond hair going gray, and eyes so dark the pupil wasn’t visible.

  “Hear me out.” Elliott continued without waiting for permission. “On our way back, we got off the road to avoid a truck convoy. Fell magic battered us, so we followed its taint to see what we faced.”

  “Mayhap Tairin’s a woman,” Stewart cut in, “but she’s a damned brave one.”

  Elliott felt pleased by the compliment aimed at the woman he was falling hard for. “Indeed she is. We came across a nest of vampires. They’re trading power for Nazi blood. Probably why the Reich rose so quickly, and no one has been able to make much in the way of inroads into their powerbase.”

  A sharp intake of breath rattled through Michael’s teeth. He hooked one hand into the sign against evil. “How many?”

  “Twelve vampires. Ten males and two females. Each of them had paired with an SS officer.”

  “Fucking and feeding, eh?” Keenan tried to sound casual, but his tone revealed how troubled he was.

  “Fucking and feeding,” Elliott agreed, “but not in that order. The blood sharing came first, then sex.” He turned his attention toward Michael. “I returned to your wagon and spent time with the lore books. We can kill them, but it won’t be easy.”

  “Is that a battle we even want to take on?” Michael looked briefly at each man in turn. “It may be all we can manage to either flee or hide.”

  Stewart sifted his hands through his braids. They made little clicking noises from the beads woven in with the hair. “I doona see where we have much choice.” His words came slowly, as if each one cost him.