Page 51 of Father of the Wolf

“How do you know?”

“You had your eyes closed. We caused quite a power surge.”

“What do you mean, ‘a power surge’?”

“First, the lights flickered. Then they brightened to almost blinding. I think they went out at least once. They noticed.”

“Oh.”

“Is it so bad for them to know we were together?” he asked, sounding endearingly uncertain.

“No. Not bad. I just don’t want them to think I jump into bed with every man I meet.” This had happened so suddenly that it left her feeling a bit off balance. Athair felt so “right” pressed against her that she could never regret having made love to him, but as the rest of the world began to intrude, she couldn’t help but wonder what their being together this once would mean.

“You don’t, do you?” He arched a brow.

“Nope, that’s not my style. It’s been ages since I even had a date.” And nearly five years since she’d been with a man. And that time hadn’t been very good. The jerk had insisted the lights be out, so he wouldn’t see her scars. After that, she couldn’t think of any reason to show her body to anyone else. Yet somehow, Athair was different.

“It has been many years for me also. Many centuries, in fact.”

“Just how old are you? Though, I probably don’t want to know.”

“Seven hundred and twenty, last June.”

She slapped her hands against her cheeks in mock surprise. “Ewww! You’re way old!”

“But well preserved,” he said with a wink and a leer. He reached over to bite her bare hip.

“Hey! None of that.” She slapped at him playfully. “You’re old enough to know better. We need to get up. I have to lock the house, check on Granny, and—”

“She’s fine. I just asked Rath to secure the house. He said Sgrios is here now.”

“Where is everyone going to sleep?” She’d forgotten they could communicate silently. The talent really could simplify life.

“Sgrios is on the back porch and Dàn is on Ella’s sofa. Steve and the others are in the living room. All are quite comfortable.”

“Is Steve, okay?”

“Rath said that Steve called them ‘all right guys.’ That must mean he’s doing well.”

“I guess so.” She couldn’t think of any other objections, so she decided to simply accept the moment and cuddle up to Athair’s warmth. She snuggled down into the blankets and allowed her hands to more boldly explore Athair’s beautiful, hard, seven-hundred-and-twenty-year-old body, which led to more interesting diversions once he assured her, he would try to control the magic to prevent any more blinking lights.

That gave her a chance to learn just how good his control could be.

* * *

Dàn focused every ounce of his being, but still he felt the stutter of his power as it surged and fluxed at irregular intervals. Hours ago, Ella had turned down the lights and gone to bed. She left a book of meditation techniques, which included both modern and ancient forms, and a hand written addition describing meditation that had aided adolescents of the clans during the development of their powers. Dàn combined several as he sat in what Ella and the book called the lotus position and used a form of self-hypnosis.

He pictured himself on a beach with the tide washing over him. The regular waves lulled him with comfort as he closed out everything but the sensation. The cool splash of each wave caressed his legs. The warm night breeze brushed over his face and ruffled his hair. The healing moonlight soothed and embraced his battered flesh.

Dàn felt his powers gradually assume the rhythm of the ocean. Steady. Constant.

Still, he maintained the meditation for several more hours. None of the others had realized just how unbalanced he’d been. How much danger he had placed them all in. The guilt washed through him with another uncertain stutter. He had wanted the Keeper’s help, no matter the risk. But even she hadn’t been able to provide that for which he searched. She had no answers for his questions. No comfort for his fears. All she could do was offer to help him search the records in hopes the information was among the most ancient writings. For now, that would have to be enough.

Reluctantly, Dàn opened his eyes—and blinked them several times in surprise.

He sat not in Ella’s study, but at the beach. In the surf. Soaked and naked. Hmm? How had that happened? Where was he? How would he get back?

He closed his eyes again and extended his senses. Briny ocean air confirmed that this was not a lake. The sound of a car told him of local populations. People. His unnaturally sharp ears heard a group of them talking and joking farther down the beach. “Virginia Beach,” one woman thought or said. Sometimes it was hard to tell the difference over a long distance.

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