Winter (Mist Riders Book 2) Read online

  WINTER

  Book 2 of Mist Riders

  (The Chronicles of Luna Mae)

  STELLA FITZSIMONS

  Winter

  Book 2 of Mist Riders

  ©2019 by Stella Fitzsimons

  https://sfitzsimons.wixsite.com/stellafitzsimons

  Facebook: Stella Fitzsimons

  Twitter: @plantationworld

  Newsletter: http://eepurl.com/w9Rcv

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. No part of this book may be shared or reproduced in any form, or by electronic, mechanical or other means, without permission in writing from the author.

  Contents

  _______________________

  About the book

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  CHAPTER 21

  CHAPTER 22

  CHAPTER 23

  CHAPTER 24

  CHAPTER 25

  Coming Soon: Silver Dust

  (MIST RIDERS #3)

  Books by Stella Fitzsimons

  Author Note

  About the book

  _____________________________________

  The final day will be a day of ice, not fire.

  When her ex-boyfriend goes missing, Luna will stop at nothing to find him—even if it means teaming with the Shadow Warrior she vowed never to see again.

  Desperate to know the truth, the reluctant companions uncover a scheme that threatens not just the life of the ex-boyfriend, but promises to unleash Horror, a being so cataclysmic that life on Earth as we know it hangs in the balance.

  CHAPTER 1

  ____________________________________

  The borgo was small enough to fit in my palm. Even at full maturity, borgos rarely grew much bigger than a teddy bear and this one was still a baby.

  Nanya squeaked when I gently touched her little white nose with a knuckle. I smiled into her big, dark eyes and played with her soft, pointy ears.

  “Here we are,” Gram said, setting down a tray of coconut cookies and tea. “I’ll miss this sweet little fluff baby so much,” she said. “Such an innocent soul.”

  Borgos were now rare in the Deep Down, as precious and dear as one’s own child. Petting them was therapeutic—their fur was so warm and soft like cotton candy. The legend was that once upon a time there were enough of the little fluffs to fill a small town, but now so few were born that each birth became celebrated. Looking into the eyes of a newborn Borgo was as soul touching and exalted as the discovery of a black pearl in the Arctic Ocean.

  Nanya was born prematurely and had little chance of survival unless an experienced witch would dedicate herself day and night to nursing the fragile preemie. Gram happily volunteered and three months later, baby borgo was strong enough for a return to the Deep Down.

  The baby fluff yawned in my palm. She wagged her short tail, made a low, playful growl, then leapt off my palm with blurring speed and landed on Gram’s Christmas tree.

  Her mouth snapped wide open as if her head had split in half, baring long, sharp teeth that clearly didn’t belong on such a tiny body.

  Green needles went flying as the borgo chewed on both tree and ornaments like a woodchipper, shredding them to pieces.

  I gasped. I knew borgos were far from the harmless creatures they appeared to be, yet to witness the sudden damage such a tiny one could cause left me stunned.

  “There, there,” Grandma scolded. With a wave of her hand, she released a pale spark of energy to immobilize the mischievous fluff. “You are quite the naughty girl,” Gram whispered, lifting Nanya out of the tree.

  “You have spoiled her, same as you did me,” I said, still in awe of the stark transformation that had taken place in front of my eyes.

  Sitting in the coziness of Gram’s living room had a calming effect. I’d been on the verge of hyperventilating since I boarded the plane to Portland after that awkward conversation with Winter at the airport.

  I remained defiant in his presence. I told him I would no longer be a part of the whole deadly madness of his bullshit rivalry with Chaos, but his words began to sink in on the airplane. The Immortals’ plan for world dominion, Düsternis’ deceit, the scheming certainty of Chaos. All of it. Could I even pretend to harbor an illusion of keeping my distance? Would I ever again be able to lead any semblance of a normal life?

  “You look depleted, my dear. I know that look, it’s the look of a witchling in need of phosphorus. There’s a new seafood place down on 12th Street. It’s charming, right on the water and they’re open on Christmas Day. I checked. They’re doing anything they can to bring in more business.”

  Grandma’s voice reached me as if from far away. I tried to smile. “Just tired, Gram,” I said as I picked up my cup of tea.

  “Oh, my weary little traveler, don’t you know you can’t hide things from your grandmother?”

  I knew. My grandma could sense my every mood, feel my every pain, whether it be physical or emotional. There was no one I loved more or trusted more. She looked older—the gray in her hair had started taking over, age spots stained her hands, and the wrinkles on her forehead pinched a permanent V between her benevolent eyebrows.

  I didn’t want to blame her about all I had learned. Yet, there was no way around the facts. We had opened our presents and had our traditional Christmas breakfast of eggs benedict, turkey sausage and gingerbread pancakes. Nanya decimating the tree ornaments had only added to the charm of a successful holiday morning.

  I sipped my tea, then put the cup down. “An Immortal told me he’s watched me since I was a child. Do you know anything about that, Gram?”

  All color left Grandma’s face as her eyes narrowed. A small sigh escaped her lips. “I hoped he would wait. I never thought he’d come back so soon.”

  “Come back? You knew about it all? You’re part of this?”

  “Sophie, I ask you to process this, slowly. There are no easy answers. My own understanding changed with time. I learned more along the way. This is not a man who left anything to chance.”

  “Why did you allow it? Why would my parents allow it?”

  Grandma put her hands together to stop them from shaking. “Your mother had no choice. Your father… the man you know as your father, he didn’t want anything to do with it. A month after they took you in, he left.”

  The world I knew melted around me. “What do you mean… took me in?”

  Gram closed her eyes. “When you were a baby, the Immortal, Winter, arrived at our door, holding you in his arms. He implored us to raise you as our own, to keep you safe.”

  My eyes watered. “I’m not your flesh and blood?”

  “Honey, love is beyond flesh. You could not be more of my heart since the moment I laid eyes on you. Your mother adored you to the moon and back. She’d have given her life for you and done it with a smile.”

  I turned to the window. Snow had fallen during the night, turning the backyard cotton white. In the distance the ocean was restless. Fishing vessels swayed in the gray blue waters. Everything felt somehow connected to the anguish in Gram’s voice.

  “And yet my mother is gone. Was what happened to her because of me?”

  “A child is never to blame for the things bad men do. I found you that day. Yo
u were hidden in the basement cloaked in your mother’s most powerful wards. Your mother had put up a hell of a fight. The place was a mess, but you were safe. That’s all she wanted. She won that day, Sophie. What happened to her was not a tragedy. It was a victory.”

  “I was four at the time… I should be able to remember it.”

  “Her protection was complete. She cloaked both your body and mind.”

  Grandma waivered. Tears gathered. My worst fears were confirmed. Mind cloaking often came at a cost. I was the reason my mother had been trapped inside her own mind. “Was it Winter who had come for me?”

  “Winter? No, child. He would not harm you. He was furious when he found out. Devastated, even. He tried everything to bring your mother back. He needed to know who was after you. Only she could tell him. I had to plead for him to relocate us so we could remain together. That’s when we came to Astoria and assumed these new identities. If he wanted you back, he could have easily taken you.”

  I took a breath to process. “So, we’re not from Oregon?”

  “You’re from Oregon. I’m from the tidal marshes of the Georgia coast.”

  Gram patted down the front of her dress, oddly calm, as if relieved to have finally set down the weight of her secrets.

  “I am from nowhere it seems. From nowhere and from no one,” I said. “Grandma, I love you, but I have been a curse to your family.”

  “Sophie, never forget that a curse is a spell of sorts,” Gram said with a reassuring pat on my knee. “And spells are the family business. You are as far from a curse as could be possible.”

  “Did Winter ever mention how and why he had taken an interest in me in the first place?”

  Grandma shook her head. “He barely spoke of it. All he would say is that he’d given an oath to your family to keep you safe.”

  Huh, the bastard knew my real family. Yet another lie.

  “Why this family? Why did he bring me to you?”

  “Because you were a lunar witch and he was acquainted with my great-great-great grandmother. They were on friendly terms and she owed him.”

  OMG. “You don’t mean they were… involved?”

  “Oh dear, no, nothing like that. Winter saved her from certain death when she was a captive of the Grand Magistrate and the Seventh Council. It wasn’t the first time he protected a lunar witch. He has always been sympathetic toward our kind. I don’t believe he would ever hurt a witch.”

  “You have too much faith in people.”

  Concern sparked in Gram’s eyes. “Has something happened?”

  “Yes, Gram, they have,” I said, trying not to come undone. “Things are happening. And I wish they would just stop. I have my own plans.”

  “Why don’t you tell me what happened?”

  Where to begin? “Have you heard of an Immortal named Chaos?”

  Gram considered the name for a few moments. “No, I can’t say that I have. I know very little about Immortals.”

  Consider yourself lucky, Gram.

  “Do you know what a Shadow Warrior is?”

  “Shadow Warriors?” Gram repeated. “What is this all about?”

  “Right. Well, this Chaos guy and Winter are Shadows, on top of expert assassins, which also means they have the ability to kill each other, despite being Immortals.” I chuckled as I realized the depths of my own ignorance. “I actually threw myself between them and saved Winter’s life. It was before I knew the truth about Winter’s deceit. In retrospect, I should have let Chaos take his head. All my problems would have been solved.”

  I quickly explained about Chaos, the morphs and how Winter had used me, leaving out the bits about me being a mist rider and the Immortals’ plan to take over the Deep Down and, eventually, the world. There was no reason to alarm her before I knew more myself. Grandma would turn eighty in spring. I wouldn’t drag her into this doomsday mess if I could help it.

  “I wish you’d have come to me,” she said pensively.

  “I had Faion by my side. Faion Trice. You know him, don’t you? He says you know his grandmother.”

  “Faion? Celia’s grandson? How did that come about?”

  I shrugged. “He’s a diviner. He knew I needed help.”

  Grandma searched for an appropriate response. This was too much information to dump on her all at once. Of course, she needed to process. Still, the silence became awkward as the seconds raced past. A gnawing suspicion grew that she might be keeping things from me even now.

  I gulped down the last of my tea. “Just how many magics are there in Astoria anyway?”

  “Sounds like you know all of them.”

  Life in Astoria had always been simple, peaceful, even idyllic. The most excitement the town had ever known was back in the eighties and early nineties when they filmed both Goonies and Free Willy here. And that had happened years before I was born.

  Astoria was just a quaint seaside town with a population of less than ten thousand. Among that population were two non-practicing lunar witches and two diviners who had long since left the Deep Down behind.

  This time, it was Gram who broke the silence. “I suppose you’ll be visiting your mother, then.”

  “Yes,” I said, feeling fatigued. “Tomorrow morning. With Faion.”

  It was hard to believe it had been three days since we arrived home. I hadn’t spoken to him at all during that time. I could use a bit of his restless energy and frenetic sense of humor.

  Gram’s shoulders hunched slightly as she sighed. “Will you take Nanya with you?” she said. “It’s time she rejoined her family.”

  I glanced at the tiny borgo asleep on the couch. “I don’t know,” I said. “That’s a terrifying little creature.”

  “You can’t be serious.”

  “I kind of am.”

  “You’re just being silly.” Gram said as she watched Nanya sleep. The little fluff’s breathing brought calm smiles to our faces.

  “I’ll get her home,” I promised.

  “Be careful along the way,” Gram said, her mood darkening.

  “Aren’t I always?” Not so long ago that would have rung true.

  Gram wiped her mouth with her hand and nodded. “You really should stay for New Year’s.” This was the fourth time she mentioned New Year’s. It had become a sad refrain.

  “Gram, you know I can’t. I have the apartment to clean. I have to pack, sell the furniture, turn in my keys, say my goodbyes to friends and get on a plane to Europe.”

  “I know, sweetie. It was just a grandmother’s wish. How about I visit you in San Diego instead? I could use a change of scenery.”

  I gathered up our cups to take to the kitchen. Halfway there, I stopped.

  “Would you trust Winter?” I turned back. “You know, if you were me?”

  Grandma’s voice came out weak, uncertain. “What does a forgotten old lady know? I guess I never really knew him well enough to judge.”

  “Just trust your gut,” I insisted.

  Grandma took her time, tapping her nails on her lap. “Yes, I think I would. I would trust him,” she said. “I’ve seen the worry in his eyes, and he is steadfast. Not many men are these days.”

  I did not possess the energy to describe for her all the various lies and manipulations orchestrated by her Mr. Steadfast over the previous months.

  “I’ll take some air,” I shouted from the kitchen. I would offer to help with the dirty dishes, but I knew Gram would turn me down anyway.

  I stepped out into a crisp winter breeze. I was taking a walk as much to allow Gram a chance to peer deep into her orb as I was to clear my head of all my fractured memories and unwanted destinies.

  It was Christmas in Astoria. Those were once charmed words. Step-by-step I tried to remember my town, my home, the heart at the center of the girl I had once been.

  CHAPTER 2

  ____________________________________

  Faion’s eyes widened as he took in the thundering twin waterfalls. On either side of the main falls, lesser stre
ams splashed over the basalt cliffs like a million sparkling tears running down the rocky, green plateau.

  In the river basin at the base stood a twenty-foot, diamond-shaped rock that remained dry despite its location at the roaring center of the perpetual onslaught of falling waters.

  This was the gate to the Deep Down.

  Magic filled the air, fortifying our etheric fields, warming our skin. We waded out through the river and into the hissing mist at the foot of the falls.

  I fought to control my own hissing current of magic. Its power was hard to resist so near the Deep Down, the primal source of witchcraft, sorcery and all things supernatural found on the planet. Efforts to suppress my impulses caused a deep physical ache and a gnawing mental anguish.

  Fighting to hold ourselves together, Faion and I tightened our fists and focused our intent. Nanya, on the other hand, seemed perfectly calm, having traveled through this gate not long ago. Her miniature head stuck out of my jacket pocket to watch our struggles with great curiosity.

  Faion gripped my hand, then placed his other hand flat on the dry rock face within the surrounding mist.

  “Succumb,” he ordered the gate.

  The magic word hissed in-and-out of our mouths, creating a chorus of echoes as we felt a feverish energy rising all around us.

  The ground shook under our feet as the falls suddenly enveloped us, cloaking us completely from the outside world. We were suddenly sucked into a silver crease of light that cut through the center of the rock.

  The rock crackled and slammed shut in a sudden whoosh. The falls were gone and with it the sun. Now we stood in a dark corridor—the deafening rush of the falls had been reduced to a distant hum or perhaps just an auditory memory from another world.

  Nanya squealed enthusiastically, racing up onto my shoulder.

  “Furby’s all jacked up for home,” Faion said.

  When he went to pet the Borgo, Nanya growled and bared a line of sharp, serrated teeth.

  Faion retrieved his hand. “Little diva’s crazy.”

  “That’s just her way of playing.”

  “Right. Bet she’s a real popular play date,” Faion said.