Brigadoon to Whitewater

**Emma’s POV**
Seeing Burke last night was one of the worst moments of my life. I was in a flashback… remembering his slimy touch on my body, and the pain, and the feelings of helplessness…

I had finally found my breath and voice, telling Peter who it was outside. It makes me feel warm inside remembering how he entrusted me to Jess and went out to find that scumbag.

Jess had led me upstairs to the room I was sharing with Peter. I used the en-suite and changed into one of his t-shirts and clean knickers.

Back in the bedroom I sat on the bed and looked at Jess. I hadn’t really looked at her before, as every time she had come to see me it was to do tests or check how my healing was progressing.

Jess is a stunning woman. I felt very dowdy next to her. Where Felicia was like a Nordic princess, all blonde hair and blue eyes, Jess is an Amazonian, with black hair, brown eyes, and skin the colour of cappuccino. She sort of looks a bit like Fel, I think to myself.

When I looked inside I could see a link, a thread touching her, but it wasn’t the same as the one that touched the boys.

‘Hi,’ I said shyly. ‘Can I ask you something personal?’

She looked at me for a moment, something I didn’t recognise flashed through her eyes. ‘Sure, you can ask,’ she responded.

‘So….’ I desperately try to work out how to ask my question, without sounding offensive. ‘Errr… you aren’t part of the pack, but you are family?’

There is a relieved chuckle. ‘I wondered what the hell you were going to ask,’ she said. ‘I am Peter and Fel’s half-sister, and I am more pack affiliated than part of the pack.’

‘Oh cool… Wait, I thought werewolves didn’t mess around.’

Jess stared at me; I never knew eyes the colour of chocolates could be colder than the arctic.

‘Sorry,’ I blushed. ‘I am still learning about werewolves and their customs, I apologise if what I said was offensive, that wasn’t what I meant.’

Her gaze fixed me for a few seconds more, then she sighed.

‘Maman and Robert met before he met Julia. For her he was the love of her life, for him not so much. I am the eldest. And I should apologise as well, I wasn’t brought up with werewolves and had to learn it much later aussi. I will help you if I can.’ She smiles at me, her eyes defrosted.

It will be nice to have a friend I thought to myself. I don’t want to cause any more offense tonight, so no more personal questions…

‘So why does Peter keep calling those guys who attacked me familiars?’ I asked. ‘I thought they were just humans, although they did keep making dog references.’

Again I got a funny look from Jess. ‘You really are naïve,’ she told me. ‘The men who attacked are human, but they have a blood pact with one they call master or mistress, making them familiars.’

‘Blood pact,’ I whispered. ‘Like magic? And like vampires?’ My heart had begun to race. I fucking hate vampires, always have, even when they were imaginary. Other people had a monster under the bed waiting to get them… me I had a fucking vampire.

‘Yes, ma cherie,’ she replied. ‘Like magic, and most likely a vampire, although a few other creatures use blood pacts too.’

My blood thundered in my ears… I feel like I will never sleep again, my childhood monsters are real, and they are after me.
…
I have no idea how I managed to doze off, possibly Jess slipped me something in the herbal tea she gave me to calm me down. I woke at some point in the night to realise that Peter had returned. His presence was enough to make me feel safe, and I had drifted off into a deeper slumber.

I hadn’t wanted to wake, but I had, and waking up in Peter’s arms nearly made it all worthwhile. We cuddled gently, he stroked my hair and kissed me as he explained the events of the previous night, and that they had captured Hare.

Then it was up and at them. Breakfast was heart-breaking when I discovered no brown sauce for my bacon… That is definitely something that I will have to find out how to get imported if Peter wants me living here full time.

That leads up to now, and me on the back of a horse, for the first time in twenty-five years. Surrounded by a pack of wolves, three other horses and two others in human form.

The horse I am riding is a beautiful chestnut mare, with a white streak down her nose, and three white socks. I am pleased that she is a calm creature, I don’t want to embarrass myself by falling off.

Hare is tied up over the back of a black horse, and Jess is on another chestnut one. The baggage horse looks like a shire horse, huge, mainly black with a white nose and four white socks.

We head off out of town, and once we have exited it the wolves lead the way down a narrow path, which certainly wouldn’t have taken a wheeled vehicle.

I settle into the steady gait of my ride, swaying along in time with her steps. It feels like we are going for hours, my bum is numb in the saddle. I wonder if they have service stations and toilets. I scan the empty landscape for the umpteenth time and spot some massive arches in the distance. They are almost glowing in the mid-morning sun.

We get closer and closer, and I realise that we are headed for the arches.

‘Jess,’ I say, indicating the pillars. ‘What are they and why are we heading to them?’

‘Those are the local gates,’ she responds. ‘It is like a magic railway network… you go through a gate to somewhere else; the keystones tell you the location. If we rode to Whitewater it would take several weeks, and we would also need to board a boat. By gateway we will be in the packhouse before night.’

‘So let me get this straight… We are going to travel by magic doorway? Bloody hell, is that safe?’

‘Yes and yes,’ she replies with a laugh. ‘The gate system has been in place for over 1500 years, and no one has ever had an accident while using it.’

‘Always a first time.’ I mutter under my breath, but I am impressed. We could do with these in the human realm.

The gates are huge, and I feel insignificant beside them. Up close it looks like they are made of quartz, the same as the lights. Maybe quartz is a magic conductor I think to myself. The air in the gates shimmers like a heat haze, and although I can see the ground on the other side I have no problem in believing that that is not where my steps will land.

It is quite freaky when I watch Braon run through ahead of us and just vanish. Then I am walking my horse through and the landscape is completely different. Greener and more temperate, and there is a big languid river. Then we are ushered through a second gate and there is a forest too. I feel like I am dreaming, landscapes are not meant to change like that.

We travel on, crossing the river and entering the forest. Even if Peter hadn’t linked me when we entered the packlands I could tell, I felt like the forest itself was welcoming me home, and the strands of the pack were getting brighter as we got closer, and massive conglomeration of light.

A few hundred yards in a guard dressed only in loose cotton trousers stepped from the forest to challenge us. I held my breath waiting for the ‘Halt who goes there’ from fairytales.

His eyes narrowed at me and Hare. ‘Who are you human to enter our lands, and who is the familiar?’

Shit I think, where have Peter or Barlas got to.

‘Hi there,’ I reply, hoping this is the right thing to say. ‘I am Emma, and I am your Luna.’

The guard laughs at me. ‘Yeah right, go back from where you came from. We don’t need your kind round here.’

Wow, prejudice much, I think. That is just species-ist.

Jess starts moving her horse alongside me, as the guard approaches, and grabs my leg.

‘What the hell’ I exclaim, as the guard is knocked off his feet and barrelled to the ground by a growling Braon.

*Mine, my mate* Braon is growling through the pack-link. *I will rip out the throat of the next man to touch her… MINE.*

Four more guards emerge from the woods all ready for battle. The wolves in our party format around me, ready to defend.

Shit this is going sideways fast.

Suddenly Braon transforms into a very naked Peter. He punches the guard under him once then stands, looking like some kind of demi-god.

‘I am back’ he roars, I can feel his aura rolling out over the men in front of him and out over the landscape.

The guards all bow deeply, take a submissive pose.

‘Sorry Alpha,’ one of the new arrivals says. ‘We were not expecting you.’

‘Yet here I am. Send a runner to the packhouse. We are back with my mate.’

The men look shocked. Casting dismissive glances at me when Peter looks away. Then one of them shifts and runs off into the woods.

Another passes Peter some cotton trousers. He dresses, and mounts up behind me, urging the horse onward down the path.

Despite Peter’s warm arms around me, a sick feeling settles in the pit of my stomach. I don’t think this is going to be a fairy-tale homecoming.