A Dangerous Legacy Pt. 14

©Nora Quick 2013

Three hours later I was in my guest room, a suite in the east wing of the hotel we'd apparently commandeered, and I knew the matching suite in the west wing probably held Malachai. My pack was littered about the room but I had denied entrance to Val or any of the council and their packs. Diego seemed aware of the tension but was blissfully staring out the window at the Alps, whining in excitement over the snow.

After fainting, I had come to on a couch and my pack had kept everyone else at bay. After that Malachai had joined me and the Council and they went over everything they knew.

In short, if anyone does change the past, no one would be aware of it. Say, for example, if someone went back and saved JFK, the world would be vastly different but no one would ever know about all the conspiracy theories. The only way to know if anyone had changed the past was to go directly to the moment they did. A clever and powerful witch or sorcerer would put u a ward to confuse and hide the change, but whoever was doing this completely blocked everyone else. A long ago Queen had known this. Now they all confessed, but Malachai and a former Queen had once called a similar truce, and with the aid of the Council and three sorcerers chosen as Malachai's strongest, they had set the wards in place. A complex system of assurances had been created from that meeting, magic threaded through time to prevent major changes.

"There are lines of fate," Malachai had explained. "They are clear lines tracing history and predicting future what-ifs. There are even lines that connect unrelated past events if a current event may link them," he had said in a rich baritone.

"Those are the lines we travel on," Val hurriedly explained.

Shin-Zan, the only one dressed like he had never left his original century, actually turned out to be the only Council member who seemed fully adapted to the present. "Imagine," he said, translating, "that you are in a cab in New York. If the cab follows only green lights, it determines a path, yes?" He waited for her nod. "Now, watching the cab one might be able to look at all the lights and figure out timing patterns or guess at sensor delays, and plot out the end spot of the cab, right? What is going on is that long ago, a group of us agreed we couldn't change the lights and set up wards to stop it. Now someone has gone back and changed the lights, and set up a wall around each one so we cannot see just how it was changed or who did it."

I had finally understood then. "And we are all the passengers in the cab, and with all the normal twists and turns of the drive we don't notice any changes."

Now we had all retreated to our separate rooms ostensibly to rest and then enjoy a late supper. I was too wound up. Malachai had given me a look when we left suggesting a private discussion but I was too shaken.

Someone from the future was changing the past. How did we know it was the future? But alas, no one had a satisfactory explanation for that question I had raised. Time travel was a fucking headache, and I began to wish I had taken many more physics classes back in college.

"You should eat, love," Julian said with concern.

"You did faint, at least have something to drink, not beer or wine," Pierre cautioned.

"Anna would you like to step outside?" Andre asked.

I turned to the alpha and realized he understood. I needed quiet and cool air, not hot drinks and a barrage of questions. "Yes, I would. Diego?"

He woofed and jumped down from the chair he'd been standing on.

Liv brought me a heavy shawl I had earlier conjured up and helped me wrap it around my shoulders. Andre opened the balcony door and my familiar and I stepped through.

It was cold here, and despite the vast amount of snow it reminded me of winter in Chicago, their air so impossibly dry and cold, filling ones lungs with every pull like miraculously frozen plasma. It was always a strange sensation given how humid the rest of the year could be, and it made me wonder about this region in summer, how many peaks retained a snow cap. And that made me think about time.

"I am feeling grossly over my h-head," I said, shivering in the cold air.

Andre came up behind me and wrapped his arms around me. He had been smart enough to grab a coat, but werewolves did run hot and he readily shared his body heat with me. I leaned back and enjoyed it as Diego wound around our legs, whining slightly in curiosity and mingled fear of the mountains.

"I have always hated traveling in time. Sigrid used to make us do it. I hated it."

"Why?"

He kissed my temple and pulled me closer. "I hate it because the past holds memories, good r bad, that should remain memories. The future holds promise and wonder. And these things should be left to be what they are."

"And it also seems," I added, "that some fools seem bent on changing the memories and promises. But why?"

I thought of Shin-Zan's car. Perhaps someone had changed the past in order to affect the future..or the present...or the future AND the present. My head began to hurt again.

"I would suggest we order dinner, eat, and then let us help you relax. There's nothing more we can do tonight."

"And you poor wolves are starving, I know." I turned in his arms and looked up into his warm hazel eyes. "Sorry to delay dinner."

He half-smiled, showing a rare flash of dimple. "We are creatures of great appetites, my sweet. I am sure after dinner there will be other needs."

I laughed even as my body heated with the oppress of his and those words. "Our world is being gutted and rehabbed without our knowledge, great power being used to do so, and we don't know yet to what end, and you want to talk about getting laid?"

He kissed my nose and lightly nipped at it as he drew his face back a few inches. "My queen, if you ever refer to what we do as 'getting laid' again I promise you I will make you very sorry and ensure you will never do so again. And tomorrow the hard discussions and investigations begin. You need to be relaxed, and making love relaxes you."

I was sorely tempted suddenly, to call it getting laid just to see what punishment he had in mind. But simultaneously I could tell there had been a true hard edge of anger behind the word, and I didn't want to make him actually angry at me.

"You talk too much," I finally said softly and pulled his lips down to mine.

It seemed I was doomed to travel to exotic locales and never get to truly enjoy them. I supposed that was the life of royalty, and even as I thought it my mind rejected it. A sudden thought occurred to me: what if I was not truly the queen? What if that was a changed light in the path of time? I looked around the room and suddenly felt a sharp pang in my chest. Then I never would have met my loves. I would not be in a position to free the wolves.

Must I question everything now?

I fended off questions as we finished our dinner. I hadn't even noticed what it was, eating mechanically. Something was behind a curtain in my mind, as if it were a memory that had fallen into the pile of all memories to be sorted, and forgotten. Niggling at me I kept trying to work it free. Perhaps it was a realization, a memory of a previous timeline.

"Pierre, I wish to walk around the hotel. I need some time to think, Would you accompany me?" I asked as soon as the food was gone.

Pierre looked to Andre who nodded almost imperceptivity and rose. "Certainly. I will meet you back here in five minutes."

He left the orange, cream, and taupe sitting room for our room. The suite had three bedrooms, one of which we decided to use as a private meeting room, and the sitting room with attached dining area. Done in those colors like the shades of a melting creamsicle it strangely worked. The fireplace was huge, like something that should have been in a horror film, but flagstone softened the affect ad made it warm. On the far wall floor-to-ceiling windows showed the snow-capped night winds. In the morning I knew it would explode with sunshine.

The entire room was made to make you feel relaxed, but it wasn't working for me. With a wave of magic I changed my clothes to something more casual, but still highly stylish. I knew that counted for a lot with most withes, and probably sorcerers. I wore good, sturdy, but tight dark jeans from Victoria Beckham and a cute Betsey Johnson wrap sweater in the same green as my eyes over a simple white t-shirt. I added some simple earrings and boots with just a three-inch heel, and ignored the curious looks of my pack.

Val was wrong. I could use my wolves as advisors, they were just what I needed. I had Julian the spy, Pierre the soldier, and Andre the mastermind. Right now I could have argued that any would be my best councilor, most likely all three.

But for some reason I thought war was coming, and I needed someone who understood war from a command center as well as in the trenches. I needed a warrior with centuries experience. And as he emerged from our room dressed in dark jeans and an equally dark shirt, his black hair loose to his collar and his blue eyes shining, I knew that night it was Pierre that I needed most of all.

We walked quietly through the resort, which disturbingly reminded me of the Overlook hotel near Estes Park, or as most people knew it, The Shining hotel. Yet it had a warm feeling, which I knew from a childhood trip with cousins, the real hotel didn't even quite manage.

I guessed it was that Swiss resorts were serious business. Someone amongst Malachai or the Council had bought out the hotel, but had it been open for business it would have been bustling. There was a world class spa, three amazing restaurants, one of them a five star steakhouse the other four star breakfast and lunch places, and the skiing was excellent. We strolled the halls and passed pasteboards advertising snowmobile excursions, a hot springs winter hike, and even an overnight snowmobiling trek halfway up the nearest peak that including singing folk songs over a camp fire.

There was something sweet and touching about it. Humans...it was funny that in such a short time I thought of myself as not one. No, I realized, I had never felt that I was. Something inside of me must have known my heritage was much stranger. But once I had considered humans aliens, myself a relic among them, but now I worried about them.

Someone was rending the fabric of time, and it was terrifying to know the past had been changed without notice from us. Right at that moment I tried to think of all the events of history I knew in my heart to be true, and wondered how many were not. With the Butterfly Effect how many humans were dead that should not be and vice versa?

"Anna, you're squeezing my hand really tight," Pierre said with the slightest trace of bare humor.

I stopped and smiled, staring at him so perfectly pitched against the backdrop of a midnight velvet sky and those dramatic white mountains dancing with the clouds. I reached up and stroked his face. "You truly are beautiful." He was, they were. But before I met my wolves I had never said those words to a man.

He smiled and it was sweetly bashful, the lightest hint of a blush filled his cheeks even as sensual awareness yawned and awoke eagerly in his eyes. The combination of sensual man and innocent boy was an amazing feat for such a seasoned warrior, and truly irresistible to any woman alive.

I kissed him slowly, and felt love between us. His tongue slid past my lips and filled my senses, the taste of him smoky and almost sweet, making me think of Kansas City barbecue dry rub, but beneath that tangy curiosity it was all Pierre.

He gently pushed me back into one of the jutting beams that broke up the softly rounded floor-to-ceiling windows. The very slight chill at my back from the night air pressing against the windows contrasted with the intense warmth emanating from my lover.

I wanted more, greedily I knew. I was such a spoiled bitch, I thought with a smile against his lips. If the men weren't willing in the smallest way, then I would allow myself guilt. Now was not the time, not when he pressed his impressive erection against me. I spread my legs and pulled him closer, my fingers twining into his silky inky-black hair.

The world disappeared, all my worries melted away. There was something in Pierre that could always do that. There was joy in his soul. Despite all the terrible things he had done and seen in his long life, despite all the horrors he had endured, there was pure and unending joy in his soul. Whenever I was around him, if I was able to let him fill my focus, become my world for a moment as he was just then, that joy spilled over into me.

I wanted him with a spear of passion, wanted to lose myself to him, to escape the dark void of the world and jump into the sun. Pierre groaned slightly at the acquiescence of my body. His large hand slid up to cup my breast and I ground against him, hungry and needy. When his thumb stroked across my nipples, on the t-shirt and bra between our sin, I whimpered.

"This hardly seems the time."

We broke apart feeing guilty like children only to find Val smiling indulgently at us. I barely resisted the urge to wipe my mouth even as I fought to get my breathing under control.

"Val...what are you doing out here?" I looked around for his pack but saw none. "Alone?"

"I think I went walking for the same reason you started." He said companionably. He'd changed into jeans, old, worn combat boots, and a Hawaiian shirt. I guess he didn't just wear those on Thunder Island. The orange, teal, and red pattern favored his coloring, pale gold skin and hazel eyes brightening as a result. He matched the décor neatly, paler orange and red reflecting the dramatic suites.

"And just why is that?" I asked, guarded, even as Pierre subtly moved away and watched me for my answer to that question.

"Something is wrong, but I can't put my finger on it."

He'd nailed it. The thought had occurred to me that there was something from the unaltered timeline reaching out to me, something without form. It teased at me, a niggling thought that made its very existence almost persistently known, but the tree that would grow from the anonymous seed was indistinct.

"There is something bothering me but I cannot say what it is."

Val's eyes flicked to Pierre. "Do you know this sensation as well?" But Pierre just shook his head.

"I do," a soft voice said and we all turned to see one of Malachai's dragons approach.

She eyed Pierre warily and I remembered that wolves had spent centuries killing off dragons as she scooted over to stand on the opposite side of me and Val. She wasn't overly tall, just slightly above average, and built slim yet strong, a physique that made me think of Linda Hamilton in Terminator 2: Judgment Day. It was shown off in a stretchy spandex black tank top and faded combat fatigue cargo pants, but the boots she wore were obviously expensive yet comfortable looking.

Her skin had a slight tinge to the paleness that was blue-green, but beneath his spiky modern funky cu black hair with long bangs her eyes were true yellow, a warm color, and luminous.

She smiled at me showing sharp teeth and I couldn't help but shiver. Pierre growled but my hand on his arm stilled him.

"Dragons can travel through time on our own," she explained. Her voice had an almost Korean accent to it though she looked like she might have had some Mongolian way back in her family. "I know you're new around here," she added, and she sounded friendly.

"So those of us who can traverse time all feel something off. How do we find out what it is?"

She looked around and I swear her nearly angled ears wiggled, swiveling almost like an animal. "I am Francine, by the way. And I have proposed an idea to Malachai but he refuses to hear it through."

"And what is that?" Val asked dryly.

"If a sorcerer or witch travels to the future the wards keep them immaterial." She turned to me and smiled indulgently without a trace of patronizing. "It makes so they can't take something like a sports score or lottery results back. But dragons are exempt from the wards."

Val turned to me and sighed regretfully. "When the wards were created no one knew dragons could traverse time."

Francine grinned again. "And so I and my sister can go forward. I believe that once we reach the moment in time when someone from the future left to change the past we will feel it. Perhaps this niggling thought will come to fruition. We could bring the spirit of you witches and sorcerers with us to watch, but dragons can stop the event."

"Why doesn't Malachai want to do this?"

Her eyes iced over for a moment but it was an ancient look I knew well: the eyes of a jealous woman looking upon what she thought as the other woman. Of course I found Malachai attractive, any sane woman would, but with wolves and witches I was surrounded by beauty and not tempted.

"Malachai I convinced it is a child sired by him and mothered by you. The only way to stop this interference might be to kill this child, and he will not allow it."

Val nodded as I shivered. Pierre put his arm around me and drew me close and I slung an arm around his waist, grateful for the warmth. "Francine is right, Anna," Val said reluctantly. "A child of the king and queen of magic would unite both sides and perhaps bring harmony and balance and an end to all war. Such a chance cannot be wasted."

That niggling feeling became a sudden scream in my head and I reached out for it but suddenly it went silent. Frustrated I shook my head, wincing. "Damn it! That seems to be the right course, I can sense it, but I don't know why. Should I speak to Mlalachai?"

"No!" Francine and Pierre both said in unison. They glanced at each other and for a moment they had a look of empathy, of two people fearing being cuckolds, and I sighed.

"Guys, if Malachai and I were to ever have a child it could be conceived in magic or by science. We need not have sex or love or any of that. Francine, I am sure Malachai loves you and much as I love Pierre here."

She winced and for a moment the ancient and powerful dragon looked lie a hurt little girl. "He's not quite like you. I love him so much but he likes his freedom. He takes other lovers, but he doesn't love the. Yet it still hurts."

I sent an apologetic glance to Val. "Witches do the same, I have seen. But not this one. Love is too precious to ignore, take for granted, or abuse. Trust and love are interwoven and I believe to betray one is to betray them both." Squeezing Pierre I felt him calm but only fractionally. "I have already told my wolves I know I will someday have to bear a child by a witch but I will use science."

Neither of the companions looked comforted, and Val was looking at me with an unreadable expression, likely trying to figure out the impact of what I had just said.

"Francine, Val, I would like you to both think this over. Val, speak to the others on the Council. Pierre, let's continue walking."

Francine nodded and walked away while Val watched as I led Pierre off, heading towards the center stairwell of the hotel. When we were around the gentle bend he slowed.

"Anna, what the hell is going on?"

"I don't know. Pierre, if this was war and you were fighting an enemy that you couldn't identify and didn't know their motives, how would you flush them out?"

He thought for a moment, his beautiful face changing from one of questioning optimism to fierce concentration. "I don't know how much I can help you. I've been in such situations but nothing like this."

"Tell me."

He led me to a bench by the window and we sat facing each other, one knee each touching. "I was back with the French. My days free from Alessandra were numbered, and I suspected. So we went to Algeria when the terrorism began there. At first we thought it was for independence, but in those days no one knew who they were or what they want. We only knew people were dying, and so we went.