Page 32 of Awakening Storm

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Aidan paid specialattention as the porthole closed, the final snippet of the bubble disappearing into the scepter. Perhaps possessing the staff was the key to getting out.

He marked the terrain as he did in the ancient days in Scotland, noting a stand of three misshapen rocks on his left and tall sickly tree on his right. In the distance, there seemed to be city. He glanced at Theodora, who stood in the path of everything else, demanding his attention. Where was Rhianna? He tried to see around the sorceress.

“This is home sweet home from now on. Check in with the locals; they’ll give you the rundown. You’ll find them—and Rhianna—there.” She pointed the scepter in the direction of the buildings. “Now, spill, Guardian. I believe you have something to tell me.”

He stretched to his full height and crossed his arms. “I don’t see her.”

She shrugged. “She’s around. Quit stalling.”

“Okay. According to Custos”—he adopted a mysterious tone and offered a lopsided smile—“zinc is the most important mineral in the world. It even keeps your skin looking young. You should try it.”

She bared her teeth. “You lovesick fool. You traded your life for nothing. Nothing!” With her bare hands, she hurled a ball of energy at him that hit him square in the chest. The shot would have knocked out an average human. Good thing he was immortal, with great strength, stamina, and powers. He merely dropped to one knee, caught his breath, and then stood to face her once more.

The look on her face was priceless as she realized he was not going to respond the way normal men did. Her face reddened, enraged, and she rose into the air. Then, as if considering the matter, a wicked laugh peeled from her lips. “Actually, this is going to be most entertaining.” She laughed again and disappeared.

Letting go of the tension holding him together, he doubled over in a coughing fit. Damn, that hurt. He rubbed his chest. Theodora got off on seeing people suffer, so he’d held it together to spite her. He straightened his spine and rotated his shoulders, still feeling the effect of hit.

He examined his surroundings with trepidation. Everything was gray and monochrome, totally devoid of color. There was no sunshine, either. Instead the sky was covered in a layer of clouds that seemed to suck the color out of everything.

He focused on the buildings along the horizon. He didn’t see any cars or traffic, although he had not really expected to. Actually, he didn’t even see any people, which was strange. Everything was still, dusty, and desolate.

Determined to find Rhianna and then a way out of here, he trekked toward the city. He passed a copse of trees and then shrubs, but they were dead, comprised of only brittle, gray leaves.

His boots stirred up dry, sooty earth as he walked. The ground appeared to be made of volcanic rock. Abruptly, he froze. His eagle could fly to the city. Then a nerve-racking fear sliced through him. What if he couldn’t change in this world? What if it didn’t work and resulted in the crippling of limbs? He’d heard of alternate universes where the rules were different. Where powers didn’t necessarily translate. There was a great deal he didn’t know about Riam.

He ran a hand through his hair and cupped the base of his neck, weighing his options.

A glimpse of the very beginning of his time as a Guardian flashed through his mind, when he’d first learned of his shape-shifting powers and had tested them. The control had been something he’d had to grow into and learn over time. He imagined that in a new place there would be new rules. Would he have to start all over again?

Summoning his eagle, he focused on the change. His wings materialized agonizingly slow, and a twinge of nerves invaded his stomach. The restructuring of muscle and bone was painful, in a way like overstretching, pulling to the point of coming undone. He bit down on his lip. His mouth filled with the bitter, coppery taste of blood as his talons formed and his head morphed.

After a minute or so, the shift was complete. Shit, he hoped it was easier to change back to his human form. Yet, even with his concern, a thrill zinged through him as he took flight.

He soared a couple of miles and approached two gas stations, one on each side of the road. The signs above them were nondescript—Hills Gas on one side and Falcons on the other. The closer he got, the more his feathers stood on the back of his neck. Still, there was no one in sight.

How was he going to find Rhianna? Would she have entered the world in the same spot as he had? Had she passed by this place, too? Could she be inside, waiting?

The thought of what she must be feeling tore at his heart. As if she hadn’t already experienced enough shock at learning who—and what—he was . . .

Something scuttled and scraped against the bricks of the Falcon station, or so it sounded like. He circled back toward the noise. Whatever it was he couldn’t see. He veered right to get another angle. Something was there.

A strange sound echoed from afar, reminding him of something he’d heard on television once: a metal door opening on a sinking submarine.

Below him, people started running into the streets, brandishing weapons, swords, poles, sticks, pitchforks, whatever they could find, it seemed. The violence and gore of ancient combat unfolded quickly. Again, he was reminded of his youth. Long ago he’d brandished such weapons, but it had been for a noble cause, to save his lands from being overtaken. He wondered what the reason was behind this fighting.

Aidan glanced to his left, and then he understood. The sound he had heard must have been the signal to fight. It was a sick game. The question was, what were the rules?

He flew the length of the city and then back, his gaze sweeping the crowd, looking for Rhianna. The place looked like a war zone in the Middle East with dilapidated buildings and clutter along the streets. As he came around the Falcon station once more, he saw her.

A man pushed her into the street. “Fight. Fight,” he yelled, instructing her to join in the fray.

She turned as a sword descended on the man next to her, slicing off his weapon hand. “Dillon!” she screamed.

The name seemed vaguely familiar. Then he recalled Rhianna had said it while recording on her GoPro. He must be one of her colleagues from the ship. Theodora had captured them all?Damn.

Aidan dove toward Rhianna, trying to keep her back, even as the stranger grabbed hold of her arm. “Believe me, he’ll want to die.”