Wickedly Wonderful (Baba Yaga, #2)

Although she was going to enjoy watching Marcus’s face when he got his first taste of the magical elixir.

She handed him the bottle, carefully licking the last tiny bit of moisture off of her lips.

“Wow,” he said, staring at her. “You look better already. You’re practically glowing.”

“They don’t call it the Water of Life and Death for nothing,” she said, laughing at his expression. “Go on. Just a little sip.”

Marcus narrowed his eyes, but he took the bottle from her, holding it as if it were a bomb that might explode. Warily, he tipped it back so a couple of drops flowed into his mouth. For a moment, he just sat there, then amazement rolled over his face, like the sun coming out after a storm.

“Holy crap,” he said, breathing deeply without wincing. As she watched, most of his wounds scabbed over and disappeared. A healthy color replaced the clammy paleness of his skin, and for just a second, a golden glow seemed to cover the surface of his hazel eyes. “That’s some stuff.”

Beka took the bottle back and carefully recorked it, placing it back in its box like the treasure it was. “Magic,” she said. “Gotta love it.”

“I’m starting to,” Marcus said, not looking at her as he put the car back in gear and steered them back onto the highway. He was silent for a moment. Processing, she thought. Then he said hesitantly, “Beka, would the Water cure my father’s cancer?”

She was afraid he’d think of that.

“It would,” she said, hating the words that had to come next. “But I can’t give it to him.”

There was another pause, and he didn’t speak again until they were pulling off the road into a parking spot near the beach. “Why not?” he asked.

“It’s against the rules to use the Water of Life and Death to cure Human illness,” she explained. “Otherwise a Baba would be tempted to use it all the time, and there isn’t very much of it. How could we choose who to save and who not to? So it is simply forbidden.”

Marcus stopped the car again and stared at her. “But you gave it to me anyway.”

She blushed. “There’s an exception for a Baba’s mate, on the rare occasions when one is Human,” she said, not meeting his eyes. “I was sort of hoping it would be covered under that. Because we, uh, you know.” She could feel the heat in her face climbing to reach her ears. “If the Queen is pleased with me when this is all over with, she’ll probably allow it. If she’s not, I’ll be in so much trouble, it probably won’t matter.”

“I see,” Marcus said. He got out of the car without another word. She couldn’t tell if that meant he’d simply accepted her explanation, or if he was angry with her because she’d refused to heal his father. And she didn’t have time to worry about it, because night was falling and suddenly she could see Chewie on the beach, leading the King of the Selkies and the Queen of the Mer, along with a number of their people.





TWENTY-SEVEN




THEY WALKED OUT of the sea by the dozens; they must have transformed out behind the rocks that bordered the beach. A few of the adults stayed where the water was about chest high, holding babies too young to change their forms under the water where they could still breathe. It was an eerie sight; the very old and the very young and their silent friends and family supporting them if they were too ill to walk on their own. No one made a sound, and in the waning dusk it was as if the beach was some strange twilight place between the worlds.

The few regular folks who had lingered on the sands all packed up in a hurry and left, shaken and uncomfortable without knowing why. But Beka knew; she could see death in some of those waiting eyes, and prayed that she had not come too late.

The King of the Selkies and the Queen of the Mer held themselves very straight and proud as Beka and Marcus approached. Behind them, their guards shifted slightly at the sight of a stranger, but a gesture from the King made them settle into an alert but relaxed stance. Chewie bounded up to Beka, spraying gritty sand and woofing an enthusiastic greeting.

“Nice job, Chewie,” she said, patting him on the head in gratitude. “How did the other half of your task go?”

She held her breath and crossed her fingers on the hand not holding on to the box. She wasn’t sure what she would do if the Queen of the Otherworld had refused her request; there was no way Beka could simply let all those children die. It was a Baba Yaga’s duty to protect the young, but it was more than that. Those young lives were so precious, so rare in a community that bore fewer and fewer children every year. Beka knew she would trade anything so save them. Even her own life, if that was what it took.