Chapter Two

“So, what are we gonna do now?”

“I’m thinkin’.”

“Well, can ya’ think a little faster? You and I both know it’s not gonna be long before Bogdi sends his henchmen out lookin’ for you.” There was a sadness in Mars’ voice, the same sorrow that was always there when he talked about the King – aka his father. It only fueled Willa’s anger, made her envision turning their bastard of a leader into a worm and feeding him to a crow.

“Yeah, well, Bogdi can bite my ass,” she spat. Making an about-face when her toes touched the wet sand where the sea water had just receded. Traipsing through the same deep grove she’d been trudging for nearly two hours, Willa growled, “He’s useless as tits on a boar hog.” Throwing her hands in the air and kicking a small pile of sand like it was a soccer ball, she added, her tone softer with her apology. “I’m sorry. I know he’s your dad, but dammit,” she ran her fingers through her long dark curls. “Why does he have to be such a lazy, good-for-nothing asshole?”

“Yeah, that about sums it up,” Mars huffed, not looking up, instead continuing to draw in the sand. “Who knows, maybe when I’m nearly a millennium old I’ll turn into an asshole too.”

“Never. You’ve got too good of a heart to be like him.”

“If you say so,” he snorted. “All I know is that if I didn’t look exactly like the pictures of him when he was younger, I’d swear I was adopted.”

It was an old conversation, one they’d had more times than Willa could count. Born nearly two months early, plagued with colic, breathing disorders and trouble maintaining his weight from the moment he opened his eyes, Mars was raised exclusively by his mother in a dingy old caravan his father set up on the outskirts of their village.

Bogdi saw his first-born son as a runt, a weakling, a child not worthy to be the Prince of their Clan and as such, went about having affairs and spreading his seed with any woman who was stupid enough to spread her legs. Thankfully, the gods had seen fit to give him only daughters. Women who went on to either renounce the Romani all together or mate outside their Clan.

Everyone still laughed behind the bastard’s back while making plans to challenge Mars for the throne before Bogdi was even cold in his grave but they were in for a big surprise. Mars was stronger than anyone imagined and had the patience, control and intelligence to outwit his opponent then strike true without warning when the time was right. Willow was waiting for the day her friend finally decided to use his power. She knew it was going to be an epic sight. 

Stopping next to Mars as he sat cross-legged sketching the spectacular sunset in the glistening white sand. Not only was he incredibly magical and a gentle soul with a giving heart, but Mars Garbori was also a talented artist, musician and poet. He was the yang to her yin, the patience to her impetuousness, and a better friend than she could’ve ever hoped for. The longer she pondered how to find the man from her visions, the clearer it became that she was going to have to go it alone. She could not and would not put Mars in danger. She loved him too much. He was the brother she’d never had, the only family she had left, and come hell or high water it would stay that way as long as she was still standing.

“Nice picture,” she commented, spinning on her toes and sitting down next to Mars. “You ever hear back from that art school you applied to?”

Taking the thin stick from the sand, holding it above his knee, Mars slowly shook his head, stopping after a second and staring right into her eyes. “Nice try, soră mai mica.” Dropping the stick, he turned on his bum until he was facing her and with a half grin, his grey eyes the color of hard steel, went on, “You’re not going anywhere without me.”

“W-what? M-me? W-what are you talking about?” Slapping her hand over her heart, she could feel her eyes widen as she stammered and stuttered with a serious case of word vomit. Unable to stop, giving Mars way too much ammunition, Willa curled her nose, frantically shook her head and continued digging her proverbial hole deeper. “Why would you think that? I never go anywhere without you. Why would I start now? I think you’ve…”

“Lost my mind?” Still looking her in the eye, he sat taller, pushing his shoulders back and getting a definite gleam of defiance that sucked the breath right out of Willa’s lungs. Tapping his temple with the tip of his index finger, Mars’ voice was low and rumbly as he continued, “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were just like Bogdi.”

Holding up his hand as she opened her mouth to disagree, Mars went on, “But I know better.” Letting his hand fall to his lap, he nodded, “However, that doesn’t keep me from wanting to scream when you try to ‘protect’ me.” Willa could hear the air quotes in his tone which didn’t bode well for her as he kept talking. “I don’t need you or anyone shielding me from a fight.” His voice got louder and more vehement with every syllable. “I will be the King someday. I am Bogdi’s son whether I like it or not. I have the bloodline, the magic and the strength to take on all comers.” He leaned forward, his eyes so dark, she could barely see his pupils as he added with a growl, “So, tell me what you’re planning. Please don’t make me dig it out of your mind.”

Admiration, love, and true affection for her best friend soothed Willa’s frazzled nerves. Laying her hands over his, she smiled. “Okay, I give. Sorry for being a butthead. I just can’t help it. I love ya. I hate what Bogdi did to you…does to you.” Squeezing his fingers with hers, she sighed before going on, “He’s a dick and a bully, and I can still see him kicking the shit outta you when we were little. I can hear him making fun of you when you refused to pick people’s pockets and run the scams on the Boardwalk.”

Lifting her hand, it was Willa’s turn to tap her temple as she continued, “I know here that you can kick his ass, reduce him to a pile of ash with a snap of your fingers or send him straight to Hell without passing Go and collecting two-hundred-dollars, but here,” she laid her hand over her heart. “You’re still that thin, little boy with dark curls, pink cheeks and soft eyes who no matter how many times he got knocked down would jump back up. I still remember the day I kicked Damien’s ass for tripping you while we were playing softball.”

Grabbing his hands again, picking them up and holding them tight, she sniffled, barely holding back her tears. “There will never come a day that I won’t stand up for you and protect you. Pure souls like yours are hard to find and even harder to keep.”

Smiling and shaking his head, Mars’ grin grew to a full-blown smile as he snickered, “I know how you feel. I’ll always have your back too.” Pulling his hands from hers, his expression turned to a frown, “And for that reason, there’s no way I’m letting you go look for your dream man on your own.”

“But…”

“No, buts,” Mars interrupted. “Just shut up and listen. You don’t know who he is, where he is or if he’s dangerous.”

The heated silence before them stretched on as Willa refused to look away from Mars’ determined stare. There was no way she would yield to him. Sure, he was older, the heir to the Romani throne and packed some serious mystical power, but she knew she could take him in a fight, and would… but only if she absolutely had to.

The sounds of the rising tide, the feel of the cool night air, and the tension between her and her friend all culminated within Willa as she felt it growing within Mars. Magic popped and crackled in the air between them. The deep, stormy grey of his eyes began to churn and swirl like the funnel cloud of an impending tornado.

Directing the mini fireworks flashing before her eyes towards Mars’, Willa planned to give her bestie a little shock to make him blink and declare herself the winner of their standoff, but as usual, Fate had other plans. Pain, like fiery iron pokers, shot through her extremities. Pounding, like the sound of the huge kettledrums in her favorite oratorio, beat at the backs of her eyes as something akin to steel bands wrapped around her heart, tightening with every beat.

Struggling to breathe, she reached for Mars, trying to answer his shouted questions of, “What is wrong? Don’t you dare die on me. Willa! Damn you, Willa answer me,” as her vision dimmed to a single pinpoint of light.

Agonized roars tore through her mind. The sound of clanging chains and deadly claws tearing at stone joined the cacophony as the image of the man burst into view. She could see the darts lining his spine, a macabre decoration filled with powerful herbs.

Spinning in circles, first one way and then the other, the man ripped at his own skin, struggling to remove the barbs while the tranquilizers they contained attacked his central nervous system. Falling to his knees, beating his head against the ground, Willa heard the voices the same time that he did, their fear at his condition and the need to save him from himself heavy in their tone.

“This is all I can do until I can examine him.” The female’s voice was thin, little more than a whisper.

“I just can’t believe he’s back after three hundred years. Only Heaven knows what he’s been through.” Anger and pity filled the male’s voice as a second male growled, “Not Heaven. That kinda suffering can only come from Hell.”