Chapter 1

Larry Witze spent the majority of his adult life as director of the Slave Sanctuary on the Chancellor’s Estate.

His passion, however, was reading.

He especially loved to read history books and had read enough of them to understand better than most how and why, centuries later, the world he knew had changed so much from the world of the past he read about.

He was fascinated by the wars of the past. Wars that grew larger with every discovery of new lands and new people and were eventually fought on a massive global scale with such devastating weaponry that death could strike with the guiltless touch born of long distance.

Back then, he’d read, it was commonly thought nuclear weapons, economic disaster, and widespread disease would be humanity’s downfall. Ironically, the fall, when it came, was not of human manufacture, but in the form of a natural disaster.

The people in those written-about bygone times fought a different type of war than the one Larry Witze and others were currently fighting. Now, the geographic scope was far smaller, death was more intimate, more hands-on. The weapons of Larry Witze’s time were less massively destructive, but war was now fought with additional armaments that were the fodder of myth, magic, legend, and fairy tales. The society before wasn’t faced with an enemy wielding a supernatural arsenal. Nor did they possess the allies Larry Witze did, capable of equally powerful supernatural weaponry.

Boundaries had been drawn. When West Caldera declared war on New Colorado over the rights to the Gulf Coast waterway, a motive for war as old as humanity itself had reared its ugly head.

Fortunately, two extraordinary young men, each with unique and special gifts, some known and some as yet undiscovered, had crossed Witze’s path. In them, and those like them, Witze realized, lay hope for tomorrow.

He couldn’t help but wonder what the history books would have to say about that. 1

Its tongue slipped inside Nick’s tunic, slithered over his pecs, teasing at his nipple before sliding up and inserting itself between his lips. Oily bitterness dripped down the back of his throat.

Nick didn’t want this.

Nick jolted awake.

Sitting up, he gulped in large breaths, trying desperately to vanquish the images his mind dredged up to invade his sleep. Something reached across his chest and pressed against his sternum, startling him enough he jerked away from the touch, gasping softly.

It slid across his jaw, leaving a wet, slimy trail over his cheek

“N’kky.” Todd’s voice was rough and slurred. Todd propped himself up on an elbow. Exhaling a loud, shaky breath, he stretched his other arm farther across Nick’s chest.

“Juss me. Stay. Shhh,” Todd mumbled, tightening his grip so he pulled Nick in closer against his chest, his lips soft on the back of Nick’s neck, and his warm breath on Nick’s skin as he talked. “What’s a matter?”

Todd’s words ran together and it took Nick a few seconds to work out what he’d said.

“I…a dream…Todd.” Nick turned so he could face his mate. “Nightmare. Really bad.”

Todd exhaled. “Another one?”

“What if the kelbit had a mate? There had to be more than one, right? What if it wants some sort of revenge?”

Todd squinted at him. The moon was barely a quarter full and set low in the sky. It was stuffy inside the wagon and still nice enough they often slept outside, though realistically, they probably only had a few more weeks before weather forced them inside every night. They were moving farther north every day.

Todd rubbed at his neck before wiping at his eyes and shook his head. “Huh?”

When Todd scooted away, Nick grabbed his arm. “Where are you going?”

Stopping, Todd turned and looked Nick up and down then reached out and brushed two fingers through Nick’s bangs. “I’m not going anywhere, just to the wagon.”

He only went as far as the water barrel and cups hanging off the back of the wagon. They always made sure to camp close to a stream or pond, somewhere they could get fresh water. They were far enough north that at this time of year, early fall, the streams and rivers cooled down at night and the water was pleasantly cold. The barrel was emptied and refilled nightly.

Opening the spout, Todd poured water into one of the tin cups and handed it off to Nick then sat beside him. “Here, drink this.”

Nick didn’t realize how thirsty he was until the cool water slipped down his throat. It tasted good and made him feel a bit better. He emptied the cup and held it against his knee, hands shaking.

“They reproduce somehow, right? What if the one we killed had a mate?”

“Why do you think that?” Todd filled a second cup of water for himself, downed half, and left the rest in the cup, setting it off to the side.