Date: 2021-02-05 05:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Paranormal; Urban Fantasy; Vampires; Magic; Fae
Description: Opal, snakes, and supernatural beings. In Outback Australia, there’s more than one thing that’ll kill you…and it’s not entirely human. Deep in the harsh and unforgiving Australian Outback lies the sleepy opal mining town of Solace. Frequently bypassed by all but the desperate, there’s nothing spectacular about it…on the surface. Solace is a haven for supernatural outcasts. A witch runs the general store, a vampire cuts and polishes opal, the mechanic is a werewolf, a fae is the local layabout, and an elemental works the mine. Everyone has a past, and the Exiles of Solace are no exception. But

Outback Spirit

Australian Supernatural - Book One

Nicole R. Taylor

Outback Spirit (Australian Supernatural - Book One) by Nicole R. Taylor

Copyright © 2020-21 by Nicole R. Taylor

All rights reserved.

This book is written in British/AU English.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

www.nicolertaylorwrites.com

Cover Design: Covers by Juan

Edited by: Silvia Curry

Contents

Author Note

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

Other Books in the Australian Supernatural Series…

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AUTHOR NOTE

The author would like to acknowledge the Traditional Custodians of country throughout Australia and their connections to land, sea and community. She pays her deepest respect to the elders past and present and extends that respect to all Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples today.

All representations of Indigenous Australians are used fictitiously and neither represent persons who live or have died.

For more information on Reconciliation in Australia, please visit:

https://www.reconciliation.org.au/what-is-reconciliation/

Chapter 1

It was five kilometres outside of a small town in outback Australia, when Eloise Hart’s 2005 Fiat Ducato motorhome broke down.

The engine sputtered, the whole van shuddered—dislodging several piles of clothing and kitchen necessities that spilled out over the floor—then steam began to billow from underneath the bonnet.

Pulling off to the side of the road, she killed the engine. She swore and thumped the steering wheel in frustration. Just her luck.

Overhead, the sky was a brilliant blue without a trace clouds. Either side of the black bitumen was red dirt—the kind of red that reminded her of rust—and patchy green and brown scrub twisted with barbed spinifex grass. The odd squat tree dotted here and there, and a few low hills rose gently from the lonely landscape.

Jumping out the van, she shielded her eyes against the glare of the sun and looked up and down the lonely stretch of highway. There was no sign of life in either direction. No cars, no caravans, no road trains—enormous trucks with three or more trailers that wove up and down the isolated highways.

The only thing that greeted her was the small rectangular slice of shade cast by a large green road sign. It read, ‘Solace - 5kms,’ and underneath that, it said, ‘Lightning Ridge - 224kms’.

Opening the hood, Eloise peered at the engine, which had seemed to stop smoking. She knew how to check the oil, the radiator, the battery, and fill the thingy that squirted water onto the windscreen, but that was it. Whatever was wrong was a frustrating mystery.

It could be worse, she thought. At least there’s life five Ks up the road. But what kind of life was another story entirely.

Eloise slammed the hood closed, the hot metal scalding her palms. She’d have to keep driving, fire or no fire, until she reached Solace. Hopefully, it’d live up to its name.

Before she could turn, a bush rustled, frightening the life out of her, and a kangaroo leapt out of the scrub. It stood up on its legs and peered at her with big brown eyes.

Eloise froze, staring at the animal in fascination. Its scruffy brown fur, big ears, and long tail were iconic, but she never tired of seeing them in the wild. An understanding seemed to pass between them, and her fingers twitched, the simple crossing of paths speaking to the thing she’d hidden inside her.

The spirits knew. They always did.

A long moment passed, then the kangaroo let out a snort. It bounded away, jumping across the red dirt until it disappeared in the distance, leaving Eloise standing beside the road, alone with her steaming van and boatload of problems.

The horizon shimmered, the highway leading into a mirage that sparkled like a rainbow-coloured oil slick on water. It was an omen, but it was the only way open to her.

Piece of shit, she thought, kicking the front tyre for good measure.

Climbing back into the driver’s seat, she turned the key in the ignition and began the slow limp into Solace, outback New South Wales.

Eloise watched in frustration as the mechanic tinkered under the hood of her van. Swatting away several persistent blowflies, her scowl only deepened as the guy muttered to himself.

The mechanic was a middle-aged man with salt and pepper hair, grease-stained hands, and a fluro yellow polo shirt that’d seen better days…much like the arse crack of a town she now found herself in.

Solace turned out to be nothing but a two-horse town made up of a handful of mismatched buildings and a squat water tower with a matching windmill. There was a pub with cracked and faded tables outside nestled underneath a large gum tree, a general store—named The Outpost—with a lonely red postbox out the front, an opal buyer who had signs outside saying ‘opal bought and sold’, and the garage, with its twin petrol bowers, where she now stood. The whole place was patched with rusted corrugated iron; even the water tank had seen better days. At least the main road was sealed.

There wasn’t much going for it and Eloise knew if her van hadn’t broken down, she would’ve kept driving.

The garage smelled like dirt and oil, but the concrete made the place cooler than standing in the radiant heat outside. Every available space was littered with various tools and spare parts, and the yard outside was in much the same state of disarray. It seemed like they repurposed everything out here, but logic told her that they had to since the town was so remote. It was a long way to go to get some bread and milk.

The man hummed and ahhed, his wrench tapping against various parts of the engine. It seemed like he had all the time in the world.

“Well?” she asked when she couldn’t take it any longer. “Can you fix it?”

“Well…” The man straightened up and wiped his hands on his shirt. “What you have here is a blown head gasket.”

Her eyebrows rose. Was that even a thing?

“That smoke was from leaking coolant,” he went on. “You can drive it, but you won’t get far before the whole thing goes, then it’s one problem after the other. Out here…” He clucked his tongue and shrugged.

The outback was an unforgiving place, and it seemed one turn too many had led Eloise the farthest away from civilisation she’d ever been. Not that it was a bad thing—she liked to avoid people as much as she could—but there was a line and right now, she was on the other side of the ‘do not go’ zone.

“Can you replace it?” she asked, dreading how much it was going to cost. “The gasket?”

The mechanic shrugged. “Na, yeah… It depends.”

“On?”

“How much time do you have?” He sighed and glanced out of the garage. “These vans aren’t that common out here, you see. They don’t like taking anything other than what was made for ‘em. I’ll have to order the parts from the big smoke. Could take a while.”

Eloise’s heart sank. If she decided to leave and find a mechanic in a bigger town, there was the chance she’d do more damage to the engine or breakdown somewhere even more remote. Being lost in the outback, unprepared, was trouble.

She had no choice. “How much?”

The mechanic screwed up his face, the wrinkles in his forehead deepening. “Oh, it’s probably a good two to three grand.”

Eloise felt her expression fall and grew dizzy, and it wasn’t from the heat. “Two to three…”

“It’s the labour, see,” the man went on. “Sorry to say, replacing a head gasket ain’t easy.”

Her hands began to shake. She didn’t have that kind of money to slap down on repairs. Well, she did, but it was all the money she had in the world. The logistics of waiting who knew how many weeks for the van to be fixed made her head spin.

“Is there somewhere I can park until it comes?” She glanced at the van and wrung her hands. “It’s my home, you see… I was travelling… And… It’s my home.”

The mechanic’s expression softened.

“I’ll pay,” she went on. “I don’t need much. I have solar panels…” Tears threatened, but there was no way she was going to cry in front of a stranger, least of all, a mechanic. They had a reputation for overcharging clueless women, didn’t they? Three thousand might become four if she wasn’t careful.

The man nodded. “There’s a spot out back,” he said. “It won’t hurt to drive her around there.”

The relief Eloise felt in that moment almost made her knees buckle. “Are you sure? How much?”

“Nothing, darlin’. The repairs are going to cost you more than enough.”

She fought back tears and the mechanic pulled out a stained handkerchief. He went to offer it to her but thought better of it and shoved it back where it came from.

“The name’s Wally,” he said. “Wally O’Brian.” Thankfully, he didn’t reach out for a handshake.

“Eloise.”

He led her outside and pointed to the large yard at the rear of the garage. The ground was nothing but hard red dirt and scrub, but there were several trees that created a bit of natural shade. It was almost big enough for her entire van to fit under.

“You can back up there,” Wally said, pointing to the trees. “There’s a tap here at the back of the garage, but it’s bore water. Good for washing, but not drinking.”

Bore water was ground water pulled from underground water tables through bore holes. It was full of dirt and other impurities, but in the outback, any liquid was precious. She supposed she’d have to get bottled stuff from the store. It was another cost that began to eat away at her already taxed anxiety.

“You settle yourself in, darlin’,” Wally told her. “I’ll come see you when I get that part sorted. Let you know the damage.”

“Thanks.”

“If you’re looking for some grub, head over to the pub. Most of the locals eat there every night. It’s good tucker.”

Eloise nodded, but she was still thinking about her bank balance.

Wally let her be, and she hopped into her van and started the engine. Head over to the pub? Maybe that wasn’t such a great idea. People, questions, handshakes.

Touching someone was the last thing she wanted to do.

The tip of Kyne Brady’s pick tinkled against the wall of rock as it struck potch.

Scratching at the wall, he uncovered the first glimpse of the seam of opal he’d been trailing over the past week. It stood out from the claystone layer like shining obsidian. He was on the black for sure this time.

Dropping the pick, he placed his hands on the wall and closed his eyes.

He wasn’t that far underground, but his claim was remote and away from the noise of Solace and the highway beyond. All that lingered out here was him and the spirits.

The Earth spoke to him, whispering its secrets, and he followed the echoes as they led him towards the glittering stone deep within the clay. The opal seam split through the layer and deeper into the wall, spreading out like tree roots. There was colour there, and a lot of it.

Glancing down at his pick, Kyne sighed. He was going to need something bigger.

Heading back down the tunnel, he found the drive and hopped up onto the ladder to the surface. Taking one rung at a time, the wobbly metal bashed against the rock face as he climbed the twenty-four feet back to the surface.

He’d dubbed his claim, Black Hole, not after the space sucking anomalies in outer space but after the rare black opal that Solace was known for. A single ounce was worth thousands in the open market, and the more colour that shone through the black, the more it was worth.

The midday sun was blazing when he reached topside. Six months out of the year it was too hot to mine, but all bets were off during the other six. Today was unseasonably warm, which always meant something was in the air.

For Kyne, that something was opal. Finally.

Casting a wary look around, he double and triple-checked the locks and traps Vera had made him. If he was onto black, then he had to be careful. He secured the grate over the drive and bumped the toe of his steel-capped boot against it. Electricity crackled.

Ratters hadn’t bothered him for quite some time, but he knew they were still out there, waiting and watching. The thieves would come in the middle of the night, break into mines, and dig out any opal they could find, often rendering the places they destroyed dangerous. They’d dig out columns of rock, making the roof unstable, but they didn’t care—all they wanted was the opal.

Miners could go entire seasons without finding any trace, let alone colour, and to have some bastard nick it before it could come out of the wall was a kick in the guts.

Kyne didn’t have to worry. If someone ventured into Black Hole Mine, it’d live up to its name—that’s if they managed to find it in the first place.

He tossed his hard hat into the tray of his ute and jumped into the driver’s seat. Putting on his hat—a dusty, black cowboy number he was rarely without—he revved the engine and peeled away from his claim, leaving a cloud of red dust in his wake.

Solace was just as sleepy as it’d been since he last saw it. Nothing had changed, but it rarely did this far from civilisation.

Pulling up outside the garage, he spotted Wally sitting inside. The old dog had his glasses on, squinting at his ancient, duct-taped laptop. Shaking his head, Kyne got out and went inside.

“Hey, Wally,” he said, tipping the brim of his hat.

Wally lifted his head from his ancient laptop. “G’day, mate. Ain’t you a sight for sore eyes. I almost forgot what your mug looked like.”

“I’ve caught a scent,” he told the old mechanic.

Wally snapped the lid of the laptop closed. “About time. I was starting to think you’d died down that hole.”

Kyne wiped his brow. “Something’s changed. I can hear—”

The mechanic coughed loudly and shook his head. That’s when Kyne noticed the white van parked out behind the shop. He could see it through the window, the sun shining off the exterior.

“Blown head gasket,” Wally said with a shake of his head. “A Fiat. One of them motorhomes.”

Kyne didn’t have to ask. A blown gasket was bad enough, but the nearest Fiat service centre was a thousand kilometres away. At least. It also meant an outsider was here.

“Came in this morning,” Wally explained. “Poor girl. I think she’s living hand-to-mouth out of that thing. The whole van has certainly had its fair share of knocks.”

Kyne wasn’t listening. If there was one thing he disliked more than ratters, it was outsiders.

“It doesn’t matter,” he told Wally. “I’m just stopping by to see if you have a jackhammer. Mine carked it a few days back.”

“Finally broke the old thing, eh?” Wally stood and crossed the garage. “I’ve got one you can use. Glad to lend it now that you’ve got your,” he waved his hands in the air, “mojo back.”

Kyne clapped his hand on the old guy’s shoulder. “I’m on the black, Wally. A good piece, too.”

“You don’t say?” He took off his glasses. “Hardy will be jumping for joy.”

Kyne pressed his finger to his lips. “Not a word.”

Wally snorted and polished his glasses on his greasy shirt. “You going to see Vera before you go?” Kyne’s expression faded into a scowl. “I’ll take that as a no.”

“I’m just here for the jackhammer,” Kyne told him.

“She could do with your help, you know.”

“Nothing happens here. She’s doing just fine.”

Wally glanced at the van out back.

“What?” Kyne asked.

“I’ve got a feeling…”

“About?”

“A feeling, Kyne.”

He snorted and looked out the window at the motorhome. Whoever this woman was, she was nowhere in sight. If she was something to worry about, Kyne would’ve already felt it, sight unseen.

“Talk to Vera about it,” he told the mechanic. “I’ve got opal to dig.”

“Elementals,” he heard Wally mutter as he went off to find the jackhammer. “More temperamental than a bloody bull ant.”

“No more than an old dog on a full moon.”

Chapter 2

The sun was setting in a burst of orange and red when Eloise emerged from her van.

She paused, watching the colours as they stretched across the outback, turning the dust into a mirage of liquid flame. The first stars were beginning to emerge as pinpoints of white light, and the brightest were the planets. Tonight, it was Venus that chased the sunset. Mars hung next to the crescent moon, flashing a dull shade of red.

A red planet. Red dust.

Eloise shivered and looked towards the road. She could see the pub across the street. It was lit up with yellowish bulbs and the sound of music ebbed out into the stillness. Beside her, the garage was dark. Wally must have gone out.

Her stomach gurgled, but she hesitated. There was food in the little twelve-volt fridge in her van and instant noodles in the cupboard, but after the day she’d had it just didn’t sound appetising.

Locking the van, she made her way towards the pub, her scuffed combat boots making no sound on the powdery red dirt. She didn’t bother looking for traffic when she came to the road; she simply stepped out onto the bitumen, the silence eerie.

The moment her right boot came into contact with the white line in the centre of the highway, a tremor rippled up her leg and into her body.

Eloise stood there as confusion settled in. In all her travels, she’d never felt anything like it. She’d climbed mountains, swum in bottomless lagoons, waded through the surf at the northern and southern most tips of the country, slept under the stars, and walked barefoot in ancient forests. All searching for an answer to a question she was beginning to think had none.

What was she?

Looking up at the pub, she huddled into her grey tartan shirt, pulling the collar back up over her shoulders. The air was warm, but she suddenly felt cold. It was nothing, just her imagination. Stress. Yeah, that’s it. Stress.

Determined to ignore her uneasiness, she kept walking but came to a stop just outside the ring of light surrounding the pub.

Should she go in? Her anxiety began to rear its ugly head, taunting her with a barrage of home truths. Why try when one accidental touch will make them hate you? Why try when they’ll just forget you?

Eloise snorted and shook her head. It wasn’t like she was staying here. A couple of weeks and she’d be gone. Broke, but gone.

A low, moaning sound echoed from behind the pub, then someone swore, and the corrugated iron nailed onto the walls rattled as something heavy bashed against it.

Edging around the corner of the building, Eloise hesitated when she caught sight of a man on the ground, slumped against the wall, naked. Completely and utterly naked.

At first, she didn’t know what to do. Leaves were stuck in his ratty blond hair and sweat and dirt smeared his skin. He had to be near her age, somewhere in his twenties. Lean, tanned, muscles, the whole bit…but he was naked.

Eloise stared at him and wrinkled her nose as the man looked up at her.

His blue eyes narrowed. “What?”

“You’re naked,” she replied.

He lifted his hands, exposing more than she wanted to see and smirked. “So?”

“Indecent exposure is against the law, you know.”

The man sat up and gestured to the dark expanse of nothing. “Who you gunna call, sweetheart?”

Before she could retort, he slumped back against the wall and was out like a light. He definitely had issues.

Sighing, she went inside the pub.

The sound of some classic Aussie rock song washed over her as she pushed the door open.

A huge man stood behind the bar with a tea towel thrown over one shoulder. He was broad-shouldered and built, with short greying hair and a matching handlebar moustache. He wore a faded blue T-shirt underneath a blue and white flannel shirt with rolled sleeves.

Immediately, Eloise felt intimidated and almost backed out the door, but the man looked up and smiled. The gesture made his whole face soften and she let the door close behind her.

“G’day,” he said, waving her over.

The bar was made of corrugated iron and patched up wood. The top was lined with various mats promoting beer companies—bright green Victoria Bitter, yellow XXXX Gold, maroon Carton Draught—and looked sticky to the touch. Stools made of natural polished wood spread out across the front, and the rest of the room was dotted with mismatched tables and chairs. It looked more like someone’s kitchen from the 1980s than a pub.

A door behind the bar led out to a kitchen where the smell of cooking wafted out, mingling with the pungent scent of stale beer.

As Eloise moved towards the bar, she caught the eye of a man sitting on a stool at the far end, who was nursing a pint and a bowl of hot chips.

He didn’t seem to be much older than she was—mid-twenties—but he had a strange aura about him that made her pause. His eyes were a slate grey, his skin unblemished, and his shoulder-length, dreadlocked hair was so black, it almost appeared midnight blue beneath the artificial lights.

He smirked at her and shoved a chip into his mouth.

“You must be Eloise,” the beefy man behind the bar said. “I’m Blue, the owner of this fine establishment.”

Did everyone already know who she was? She supposed it was a small town. If her van breaking down was the biggest news of the day, then they had problems.

“Blue?”

“They call me that because I used to have flaming red hair,” he replied with a chuckle.

“Oh…”

“Can I get you anything to drink?”

“Uh, there’s a naked man outside,” she told him.

“Ah, that’d be Drew,” Blue said with a sigh, taking the tea towel off his shoulder. “Boy’s got problems, but he’s harmless.”

Her eyebrows rose. “I was actually hoping for some food.”

“Ah, yes. Dinner is on at six. One flat fee, dish of the day, all the sides you can handle.” She glanced at the clock behind the counter; it was a quarter to six. “You want a drink while you wait? First one’s on the house.”

“Sure…”

Blue didn’t wait for her order, he picked up a pint glass and pulled a beer from the tap. “So, you’ll be staying with us for a few weeks, eh? There ain’t much going for a young’un out here, I’m afraid.”

“I don’t mind,” she told him. “I prefer the quiet.”

He put the beer down in front of her. “Well, you’re going to get a lot of that out here.”

She thought about her financial predicament. If she was going to ask anyone about earning some extra cash, it’d be the local publican. “Is there any work around here?” she asked. “Labour, bar work, kitchen hand…”

Blue shrugged. “The place takes care of itself.”

“But there are a heap of mines out here, right? I can shift rock.”

He gave her a look that said she was either mad or simply didn’t understand what she was asking.

She glanced at the man sitting at the bar, but he was enthralled with his bowl of hot chips. “What? Head gaskets don’t pay for themselves.”

“Mining is backbreaking work,” Blue told her. “Besides, most miners don’t like taking on outsiders. They’re a secretive lot. There’s a lot of money in opal, and they’ll guard their claims with a shotgun in hand. It’s no place for a woman with no experience.”

“Oh, experience,” she drawled. “Here I was thinking it was just because I have a pair of tits.”

The man at the end of the bar laughed, his grey eyes sparkling with amusement.

Eloise’s cheeks heated and she jerked away from the bar. “This was a mistake. I’m sorry to waste your time.”

“Now hold up there,” Blue began, but she wasn’t listening.

Mortified, Eloise turned only to come face to face with a woman with long, flaming, curly red hair. Brilliant green eyes stared at her and she almost fell backwards.

“Don’t listen to those dimwits,” the woman said, her accent unmistakably Irish. “They don’t know their mouths from their arseholes. Their balls certainly don’t house extra brain cells, either.”

Eloise stared, her anxiety rising. It was so long since she had a friend—or a conversation lasting longer than two minutes—that she wasn’t sure how to ‘people’ anymore.

“You’re the woman with the motorhome,” the newcomer said. “Aren’t you?”

“Of course, she is,” the man with the chips called out. “There isn’t any other new face here.”

She scowled and looked over Eloise’s shoulder. “Oh, shut your gob, Finn.” To Eloise, she said, “The sound of his voice makes me want to throw up on a daily basis.”

Finn snorted and turned back to his beer.

“Eloise, isn’t it?” the woman asked. “I’m Vera. Wally told me to look out for you. With the exception of Finn and his sour attitude, we do like to help each other in Solace.” She picked up Eloise’s beer from the bar. “Come and sit with me.”

It didn’t seem like she had much choice, so she slid into a chair opposite Vera. She was already beginning to envy her ease and confidence…along with her fashion sense.

Vera wore a flowing khaki peasant blouse with cream-coloured embroidery around the edges, short denim cutoffs, Blundstone boots, and about a million silver rings. Some glittered with different stones, but most were unadorned and bent into different shapes—a triangle, a circle, points—and underneath, Eloise spied some tattoos etched along each long finger.

Vera didn’t seem to notice her staring. She just leaned close like she was about to tell her some scandalous secret. “Since you’ll be here for a while, let me tell you about Solace,” she began. “Blue, you know. He’s owned the pub for thirty years.” She shot a filthy look at Finn. “Finn… There’s no love lost there. Who else…? There’s Hardy, the opal buyer. Cuts and polishes the most beautiful stones you’ve ever seen. Definitely go into his shop and see. You know Wally, of course. There’s a few miners who come and go—Kyne, Trapper, Gunno, Nigel. Most of them live out on their claims or in the dugouts. A rough bunch, but mostly good blokes.”

“Dugouts?”

“Houses made out of old mines,” Vera explained. “It gets so hot in the summer and the only place that’s bearable is underground. They’re pretty solid homes. Painted walls, polished floors, electricity, and plumbing, all at a constant twenty-four degrees Celsius. Best air-conditioning around.”

“What do you do?” Eloise asked. “It seems to be a man’s world out here.”

“It is, isn’t it?” Vera sighed. “I run the Outpost. Someone’s gotta keep these gobshites watered and fed with more than beer and chicken parmigiana.”

“I heard that,” Blue called out.

“We have all kinds of stuff at the shop,” she went on, ignoring the publican. “We double as the post office, bank, hardware store, chemist, supermarket, newsagent, and anything else you can think of. If you need it, I’ve got it. If I don’t, I can get it.”

“She’s also the local fortune teller,” Finn called out. “She can tell your future by looking at the wrinkles on your arse cheeks.”

Vera scowled and let out a lengthy sigh.

“Finn, give it a rest, mate,” Blue growled. “We don’t need that in here. Not tonight.”

Eloise snuck a glance at Finn, wondering what his problem was. She’d obviously stepped into some toxic dynamic between him and Vera. She wondered what it was. Maybe they used to be romantic and it’d turned sour.

“He is telling the truth, though,” Vera said. “Not about the arse cheeks, but I have experience with palmistry…tarot, too.”

As if an Irish woman living in the middle of the Australian outback, running a general store wasn’t unusual enough, she had to throw in fortune telling, too.

“Here, I can read yours.” Vera reached out for her hand and Eloise jerked away so sharply she almost tipped her chair backwards.

For what felt like an eternity, everyone stared at her as she pulled her hands into the sleeves of her shirt.

Embarrassment flooded her cheeks and she felt tears of frustration begin to cloud her vision.

“I’m sorry,” she muttered. “I’m—” She rose and began to tremble. “I’m sorry.”

“El—” Vera began, but she was out the door before she could finish.

Vera stared after Eloise in shock.

“That was unexpected,” she said.

“So much for Wally’s feeling,” Finn drawled, turning back to his chips.

“You’re supposed to know these things,” Blue said. “Didn’t you get a vision?”

“How can I get a vision if I can’t touch her?” Vera asked with a scowl.

“I’m a mere mortal,” he replied. “I don’t know how any of this stuff works.”

Of course, he didn’t. Blue was a regular human, but Vera was a witch. A witch without a coven, but a witch, nonetheless. Her magic should’ve told her if Wally’s ‘feeling’ had any merit, and she’d gotten a faint vibe that might be something. Without touching her, it was just an educated guess at best.

“Maybe she melts people from the inside out,” Finn declared. “If you turned into a glob of melted flesh, I’d be sad, Vera.”

Wally chose that moment to walk in. “I just saw Eloise fly out of here and disappear up the road,” he said. “What did you do?”

“Nothing,” Vera snapped. “Nothing at all.”

“You tried to touch her,” Finn drawled like she’d committed the ultimate crime.

“I didn’t see you doing anything but sneer at her,” Vera cried. “I thought fae were supposed to be empathetic creatures.”

“We don’t like to lie,” he drawled. “It has nothing to do with caring. I’d like to see you try to have an optimistic outlook when you’ve spent a thousand years as a withered husk.” He picked up another hot chip and screwed up his nose. “Great. Now my chips are cold. I loathe cold chips.”

Blue sighed and snatched the bowl off the bar. “I’ll reheat them.”

“Don’t bother. The microwave makes them all rubbery.”

“Stop complaining. I’ll stick them in the fryer.”

As they continued to argue about fried slices of potato, Vera frowned, her thoughts firmly on the outsider Eloise.

“She must be an Exile,” she mused. “There’s no other reason for her to be here.”

“It could be a coincidence,” Wally said, beginning to doubt himself. “They do happen. That road out there is open to anyone. There’s nothing there to stop them from rolling in and rolling out.”

“Supernaturals don’t come here unless they’re driven to,” the witch told him. “If you had a feeling, it’s worth investigating. We can’t be too careful.”

“She’s driving around in a motorhome,” Wally murmured, his brow creasing. “Travelling on her own.”

“It’s a bit far to come for sightseeing,” Finn drawled. “Especially alone…especially considering what we’re sitting on top of.”

Vera frowned, remembering how Eloise had pulled away. It felt like she was afraid of being touched, not the other way around. There was something about her, something she was doing everything in her power to hide.

“She’s squashed it down so much, it’s barely detectable,” she mused. “Whatever it is, she’s either unaware or—”

“Or it’s dangerous,” Finn snapped. “We’ve got enough of that already.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Vera told him, trying to hold her temper. “She’s here until Wally can fix her van. We should use that time to get to know her.”

“Since when did the witch become the leader?” Finn asked with a roll of his eyes.

“Since Kyne decided to live full-time down his black hole,” Vera drawled. “He’s too busy sulking to care about the seal, so someone has to take charge.”

“Be nice about it, will ya?” Wally stated. “I get the feeling she’s all alone.”

Outside, the sun had set.

Eloise walked along the road into the shadows, unafraid of whatever was lurking in the darkness. Snakes, lizards, dingoes…she didn’t care a single iota. One bite of her and they’d be toast anyway. What use was it to worry?

Past the Outpost, she discovered a massive boab tree growing amongst the scrub. Its base was swollen and the top narrow, giving it the appearance of a bottle with branches growing out of the neck. It was unusual and beautiful, the moonlit outline a strange spectre in the darkness.

As she approached, a dark figure ducked out from behind the bloated trunk. She yelped and stumbled back a step—it was a man.

“Oh, pardon me, miss,” the stranger said in an earthy accent. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

She blinked as he stepped into the moonlight. He was an Indigenous man, young, dark-skinned, with curly brownish-black hair that touched his shoulders. Hazel eyes stared at her from underneath impossibly long lashes and she blushed. It seemed as if he could see right through her, even in the dark.

Her gaze flicked to the boab tree behind him. “I didn’t see you there.”

“I’m called Coen,” he told her. “The boab is a good place to rest.”

“I’m Eloise,” she said, her voice wavering.

“You’re the woman with the van.”

She shook her head and scoffed, “Word travels fast around here.”

“I saw you this morning. The marlu, he show me.”

“Marlu?” She didn’t understand what he meant.

“The kangaroo.” When he saw the look on her face, he laughed. “The spirits are strong. This place is full of the magic of the Dreaming.”

Her interest ignited and she took a step closer. “The Dreaming?” she asked. “I’ve heard of it, but what is it?”

“The Dreaming is the beginning of the world,” Coen told her. “But it is also the past, present, and future. It is the ancient time where spirits and animals were full of magic.” He swept a hand across the sky and the stars seemed to glimmer all the brighter. “There is this world and the world beyond, where magical things happen. The spirits speak through the sky and the animals.”

A shiver ran down her spine as she recalled the image of the mountain that lived in her dreams. “Who are the spirits?”

“Ancestors,” he told her. “Animals, creatures.” He pointed to the sky again. “Those that come from above, sealed below.”

“How do you know these things?”

Coen beamed. “I’ve been many places. Faraway places. Places where mobs speak many different words. I travel the Dreaming.”

She didn’t understand how she felt it, but she could sense magic around him—tingling, shaking, vibrating, warmth. In all her travels, she’d never found anyone like him. Her heart leapt and she stepped closer.

“How?” she asked. “Can you find answers there?”

“Maybe.” He shrugged. “Depends on what you ask.”

Her throat tightened. How could she ask the one thing she desperately wanted to know? Where could she find the truth?

“I don’t know where to go,” she said, hardly understanding why she was opening up to a stranger, in the dark and the middle of the outback, no less.

“Make paths by walking.” Coen pointed to the scrub. “Walk and you’ll find your mob.”

“Is it really that simple?”

“You already walkabout.” He laughed, a long, comical cackle that split his sides, then he backed away, melting into the shadows.

“Wait!” she called, but he didn’t reply. “Coen?”

It made no difference how loud she called. Like a spirit, he’d disappeared into the ether.

Chapter 3

Eloise dreamed about the mountain again that night.

It rose high above her, the outline of the black magma-infused peak dull against the midnight blue sky. The air was still, the usual noisy nocturnal animals of the outback silent in the dark.

As she stood there, her heart hammered so loudly in her ears, she was sure the ghosts could hear it. They were out there, lingering just out of view, in this world or the next, she was never sure.

But they were there. Calling.

The distinct sound of stone against stone echoed in the distance. It knocked three times. Knock, knock, knock.

Eloise woke with a start.

A knock sounded at the sliding door of her van and she swore. It must have filtered into her dreams.

She peered behind the curtain and saw a man lingering outside. What was it with all the guys in this place?

Rubbing her eyes, she slipped out of bed and padded the three steps to the sliding door. She slid it open, the metal whizzing over the runners, and squinted out into the early morning sun.

“Hey,” he said. “Sorry to wake you.”

Eloise sniffed and looked him over. He seemed to be in his early thirties and a rugged sort of handsome. Chiseled jaw with a coat of stubble, longish, wavy brown hair that was tied back in a low man bun, bright hazel eyes. He had the whole outback stockman vibe going with his dusty jeans, boots, and khaki shirt that was open at the collar. He was pale though, like he’d never seen more than five minutes’ worth of sun in his whole life. It was a juxtaposition if she ever saw one.

“Can I help you?” she asked, now blindingly aware she was wearing her purple unicorn pyjamas and was lacking a bra. Scratch the bit about the bra, she thought. Guys are into that kind of thing.

“I’m Hardy,” the man said. He pointed over his shoulder towards the road. “I’m the opal buyer.”

She blinked. “Okay…”

“Blue said you were looking for work,” he added. “I might have something for you, if you’re interested.”

“How much does it pay?”

Hardy laughed, flashing his perfect, white teeth. Eloise was beginning to see there were two types of people who lived in Solace—old dusty men or oddly beautiful young people. The ratio of women to men was alarmingly low, though.

“You’ll go far in a place like this with that attitude,” he told her. “But you have to be prepared to negotiate. Miners will try to squeeze every last cent out of you.”

“What are we talking here? Minimum wage? Is there a finder’s fee?”

Hardy shook his head and laughed. “Maybe you want to get dressed first, eh? I’ll wait for you in the shop. Hop on over when you’re ready. I ain’t going nowhere.”

Eloise looked down at her faded unicorn T-shirt and shrugged. “Cool.”

Hardy gave her a wave and walked away, disappearing around the corner of the garage.

There was nothing else going for her, so Eloise dressed, pulling on a pair of denim shorts, a T-shirt, and her boots. Locking the van, she ventured out into the heat of the morning and went over to Hardy’s shop, curious to see what this mysterious job entailed.

A bell tinkled as she opened the door and a relieving blast of cool air hit her in the face. Closing out the heat behind her, Hardy emerged from a door behind a glass counter that ran the entire width of the shop. There were seats to one side and some posters and framed photographs on the wall, but there wasn’t much else to see.

“Couldn’t keep away, huh?” Hardy asked as she peered into the display cases under the counter.

She smiled and looked at the array of polished opal. They glittered with various colour combinations and shapes, but it was the price tags that made her eyes water.

“How’s Solace treating you?” Hardy prodded when she didn’t reply.

Eloise thought about the pub and grimaced. After she’d left, she’d met Coen, which had been another strange encounter, but it had left her feeling so dreamy and whimsical that she’d sat outside under the stars eating her instant noodles, contemplating the meaning of her existence like she never had before.

“I met a man last night,” she began. “An Aboriginal man.”

“Ah, that’d be Coen. He’s on a walkabout.”

Coen had said something along those lines, but he’d disappeared before she could ask him anything else.

Eloise frowned. “Walkabout?”

“It’s a spiritual journey where the Aboriginal people return to their traditional way of life. To live off the land and connect to it as their ancestors had.”

To Eloise, it sounded peaceful. People caused her so many problems, and she was so tangled in the anguish over her abilities, it sounded like a good way to figure out who and what she was.

“There aren’t many places a man like Coen can settle in this modern world,” Hardy mused.

Eloise frowned.

“Oh, it’s nothing bad,” he told her. “Now, come out back. I want to show you what unpolished opal looks like.”

A little frustrated at the way he’d brushed her off, Eloise followed Hardy out into his workshop. She supposed he couldn’t blame him. Racial divide was a delicate topic even she wasn’t sure she was qualified to speak on, being a white woman and all. Maybe if she saw Coen again, she could ask.

“What’s the job exactly?” She was having visions of cleaning and attending the shop front but couldn’t see the need for it. Trade was at a roaring standstill.

“You’ll see,” he replied. “Have a little patience.”

Out back, Hardy’s workshop took up most of the floor space. There was a complicated set up of tables and sinks with lathes and grinding wheels. It was an intimidating array of machines, all of which seemed overkill for a little stone, but when he showed her what rough opal looked like, she began to understand.

He opened a plastic ziplock bag that was full of stones and dropped a shard into her hands. She noted that he made sure not to touch her, but she wasn’t sure if she was grateful or embarrassed. Either way, the non-contact was welcomed.

The rough opal was nothing like the gems on display out in the shop. It looked like muddy and milky shards of rock that glittered a little when tilted towards the light. Bits of sandstone and other junk was still attached, hiding the treasure that may or may not lie underneath. No wonder Hardy needed ten million different lathes and saw bits.

“This is some seam opal that’s mined around Solace,” he began. “But there’s many kinds of opal, all differentiated by colour and composition. There’s boulder opal, fossilised opal, crystal opal, fire opal, white, black, matrix, pineapple clusters…” He waved a hand. “I could go on all day about all the differences, but the one we see the most here is white and black seam opal.”

Eloise wondered how many times Hardy could say opal before the word lost all meaning.

“Opal is formed when water and silica mix and seep down into the earth, settling in natural faults and voids. As the water evaporates over millions of years, it leaves behind a silica deposit. You get your different opals depending on what’s down there in the ground and where the silica forms.”

“What makes black ones?”

“Iron oxide and carbon.”

“Carbon?”

“There used to be an ancient forest here millions of years ago,” Hardy told her. “Also, rivers and lakes, and even ancient coral reefs. Miners have found plenty of opalised fossils—coral pipes, shells, plants, dinosaur bones.”

Eloise was hooked. Her imagination began to conjure images of glittering spiral shells and skeletons of extinct beasts.

“I recognise that look on your face,” he said.

“What look?”

“The same one Icarus had when he got too close to the sun.” He sighed and shook his head. “It’s driven many to the brink. The lure of opal is worse than gold. It’s the colour you see… Opal fever.”

“Is it worth that much?” Eloise asked. “I mean, they can’t mine it just because it’s pretty to look at.”

“Oh, it’s the money for sure. The rarest opal can fetch twenty thousand a carat.”

Her mouth fell open. “Twenty thousand dollars?”

Hardy chuckled. “One good seam can make a miner a millionaire overnight.”

“I’m beginning to understand what the fuss is all about.” She’d been amazed at how it formed around ancient bones, not the money, but cash was a necessary evil.

Reminded about her broken head gasket again, she sighed.

“How do people find them?” she asked. “How do they know where to look?”

Hardy laughed and picked up the plastic ziplock bag full of creamy-coloured stones. “You can’t learn all there is about opals in a day,” he told her. “Let’s begin at the start before you bury yourself underground, shall we?”

“So…you buy raw opal from miners and then polish it?”

Hardy nodded. “Once they’re shaped and polished, I sell them on to collectors and jewellers all over the world.” He pulled a chair over to the table, where a magnifying glass was clamped to a stand, and gestured for her to sit. Then he picked up a small, thin, metal post that had an opal stuck to the end and held it out to her. “Look.”

Sitting, Eloise plucked the post from his fingers and held it underneath the magnifying glass. She tilted the stone, watching the light play across the surface. Flashes of colour ignited—blues, greens, and purples—shining like iridescent flame. Comparing it to the piece of raw opal he’d given her, she immediately saw the difference.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Hardy asked. “No two stones are alike. How could something so precious and wondrous be created? Nature is pure magic.”

Eloise tensed and leaned back from the magnifying glass. Nature was cruel and unforgiving. There was nothing magical about it.

The opal was beautiful and rare, but people had gone mad searching for it. They’d lost all their money, their families…they’d gone mad searching for this little thing she held in her hands. A glittering stone that held no magic.

In the end, money fixed nothing. Just her van. It didn’t fix who she was.

“So, what do you want me to do?” she asked, setting down both pieces of opal. “I can’t see that you need any help.”

“I want to teach you how to cut and polish,” he replied.

She frowned. “But I’m only here until my van gets fixed…”

“I know, but I need help polishing potch.”

“Potch?”

“Colourless opal,” he explained. “It’s worthless on the open market, but I polish it up and give it to Indigenous artist collectives. They make pretty souvenirs for tourists in the bigger towns and it helps the locals. That’s where you come in. I can’t keep up with the demand.”

“But you give it away for free…”

Hardy laughed. “Don’t think too hard about it, Eloise. I look like a hero and you get money to pay Wally. We all win.”

She grimaced and looked at the bag of opal. It would be kind of exciting…and there was air-conditioning.

The bell on the door rang and someone came into the shop. Hardy leaned back to see who it was and his expression became troubled.

He sighed. “Hang out here for a bit and think on it, eh?” he told her. “I’ll be right back.”

Glancing after him, Eloise’s frown deepened. The trust these people were giving her was worrying. They knew nothing about her and her them. After so many years of isolation, it conflicted her to no end. She wanted to open up and be a part of something, but it could all be over with one innocent touch.

Standing, she looked over the saws and ran her fingertips over the grinding wheels. Yes, she decided. She’d do it.

“Holy shit on a stick!”

Hearing Hardy’s excited voice, Eloise turned towards the door. Peering around the corner, she saw him holding up a piece of opal, but her gaze moved straight past it to the man who stood on the other side of the counter.

He was another ruggedly handsome male, with a dirt-stained face, black cowboy hat that hid shaggy, almost black hair, a checkered shirt, and muscled torso. But as his blue eyes met hers, his expression turned sour and he snatched back the opal from Hardy.

“Who’s that?” the man demanded.

She gasped and darted back into the workshop, his anger biting into her like a slap on her cheek. The same vibration she’d felt on the road last night trembled up her legs and into her heart.

Magic. It had to be magic.

Biting her bottom lip, she peeked back through the door.

Kyne parked his ute out the front of Hardy’s shop and snatched up the bag of opal from where it lay on the passenger seat.

After a long day and night down Black Hole Mine, he’d finally jackhammered out the first vein of black out of the wall. Glorious colour had fallen out of the sandstone and into his hands, and the feel of it against his skin had been electrifying.

For the first time in months, he’d felt his power begin to surface. The opal spoke to him, leading his hand towards the heart of the seam, but his bucket was full.

Picking out the best pieces—black with flashes of green, blue, and red—he’d slipped them safely into a plastic ziplock bag ready to take to Hardy.

The shop was empty when he walked in, but it almost always was. Not many people came to Solace, and those who did rarely stayed for more than an hour or two.

As Hardy emerged from his workshop, Kyne set the parcel on the counter.

“Got something you might like,” he told the buyer. “Finally got that black.”

Hardy picked up the ziplock bag and his eyes widened. “Holy shit on a stick!”

Kyne shook his head. As Hardy was pawing through the opal, he looked up and saw a woman staring at him from inside the workshop—a little mousey thing with big eyes.

“Who’s that?” he snapped.

She ducked out of sight at his sharp tone and Hardy glared at him.

“That’s Eloise,” Hardy told him. “I just hired her.”

He snorted and raised his eyebrows. “To do what? Suck on her neck?”

“That’s not fair, Kyne,” he said. “Keep that up, and I’ll have to take you down a peg or two.”

“Why is she here?” he hissed.

“That’s what we’re figuring out,” Hardy murmured. “Someone’s gotta be proactive around here.”

“I can’t hold everyone’s hand all the time. I have my own living to make, you know.”

The buyer rolled his eyes. “I thought finding some opal might have calmed you down a bit, but I see your anger issues are still centre stage.”

“Watch yourself, vampire.”

Hardy chuckled. “You and I both know you’re no match for me, even with your powers…which are still beyond your reach, no matter how much black you dig out of that hole.”

Kyne’s scowl deepened. “Do you want the opal or not?”

“Nah…yeah. Give us a look.” Hardy pulled up a chair behind the counter and tipped the opal out onto a mat. Pressing a jeweller’s loupe to his eye, he squinted through the magnifying glass. Turning the opal this way and that, he umm-ed and ahh-ed, making a show of inspecting Kyne’s haul. “You’ve got some big pieces here. Let me see…” He sorted the stones into three different groups. “How much do you want for it?”

“A hundred and fifty,” Kyne stated.

“A hundred and fifty K?” Hardy snorted. “You really think I’m that rich?”

“I know you are, and you know I’m low-balling.” He had the skills to tell which opal was the best, even before it was polished—hell, he knew even before it came out of the wall. If Hardy played his cards right, he’d get twice that much on the open market, especially for black.

“Want to get out of Solace that badly, huh?”

“Tough love ain’t going to help me, mate,” Kyne said, glancing over the vampire’s shoulder to the workshop. He could sense the woman lurking. She was uneasy, confused even, but he was beginning to see why Wally had a feeling.

“Come back to civilisation a bit more, eh?” Hardy asked, looking up, still pressing his loupe against his right eye like he was trying to see the imperfections in Kyne’s face.

“Why?”

“Isolation makes you angry. Not to mention paranoid. Paranoia is bad for a man digging on his own…and you shouldn’t be flying solo, Kyne, not right now.”

“I have no choice,” he said. “Not when I’m on the black.”

“I’d come with you, but…” Hardy turned towards the workshop.

“No,” Kyne said, “not in a million years.”

“Why? Because she’s a woman?” The vampire snorted and set his loupe down. “She’s already made it clear she’s as capable as any man. Blue said she fired up at him.”

“It has nothing to do with gender,” Kyne said with a roll of his eyes. “It’s everything to do with the colour in the wall.”

Hardy sighed. “All the more reason to spend more time in town, eh?”

“You going to buy or not? I’ve got shit to do.”

He sighed and began to put the opal back into the ziplock bag. “One hundred.”

“One fifty.”

“One ten.”

“One fifty.”

“One thirty.”

“One fifty.”

Hardy chuckled and snatched up the opal before Kyne could take it back. “Fine. One fifty. Transfer will be done today.”

“Was that so hard?”

“As hard as it is for you to say thank you.”

Kyne snorted and tipped the brim of his hat. “Nice doing business with you.”

Chapter 4

Vera leaned around the corner of the garage and watched the door of Hardy’s shop.

Behind her, she could hear Drew fussing with the lock on Eloise’s van. He cursed and she turned to scold him. He was taking far too long.

“I thought you knew how to break into stuff,” she complained.

“Why would I know how?” Drew asked with a scowl.

“You’re a criminal, aren’t you?” She pouted. “Reformed, I hope.”

“You’re such a good influence.” He rolled his eyes. “Can’t you just touch the van to get your vision?”

“It doesn’t work like that. I’d rather touch her directly, but that isn’t going to happen any time soon.”

Drew snorted. “You do realise how dodgy that sounds, right?”

“Just because your mind’s in the gutter.”

He turned his back on her and continued working on the sliding door, jamming a screwdriver into the gap.

“Careful,” Vera said. “Don’t damage the paint.”

“Step off,” Drew muttered. “I know what I’m doing.”

She grimaced and looked back towards Hardy’s shop. Eloise could come back at any moment and find them. How would they explain this?

“What were you doing behind the pub naked?” Vera asked. “Were you running again?”

Drew grunted, not answering either question.

“I took you in on the provisor that you’d stop tempting fate, Drew.”

“I didn’t do anything,” he complained, turning to face her. “I have to shift, Vera. I can’t help it.”

Drew wasn’t bound to the moon like Wally, but she knew if he left it too long, he could spontaneously shift. Usually it wouldn’t be a problem, but with Eloise around, they couldn’t risk him transforming in front of her. At least not until they knew who she was…and if she was a threat.

Vera pursed her lips and nodded. “Just hurry up with that door, will you?”

He grunted and wiggled the screwdriver. A moment later, the door popped open and he let out a triumphant yelp. “Got the bastard.”

“Let me see.”

Drew slid the door open and Vera ducked inside. There wasn’t much to see, but the little motorhome was fully fitted for off-grid living.

There was a small, separate shower and toilet, a little kitchenette with a sink and gas cooktop, a fold-away table, a queen-sized bed at the rear, and loads of cupboards and hidey-holes for storage.

“This is pretty cool,” Vera said with an appreciative nod. “Living light on four wheels. I dig it.”

Drew leaned against the side of the van. “Yeah, well, start feeling up her stuff ‘cos I ain’t getting caught here with you.”

Vera looked around, wondering where Eloise would keep her personal keepsakes—sentimental items like jewellery, photographs, books, or even a journal. Clothes and cooking utensils didn’t cut the mustard.

Leaning over the bed, she lifted the pillow and found a carefully folded set of unicorn pyjamas. Cute, but not personal enough.

The overhead cupboards came next, then under the kitchen counter, and even the front glovebox. If Eloise had anything worth finding, it was carefully hidden…or maybe she didn’t have anything at all. No memories. No reminders.

Frowning, she decided to lift the mattress.

“Yes,” she cried, finding a small brown notebook hiding underneath. “Pay dirt.”

The moment her fingers touched the cover, her vision blacked out and an image slammed into her. Her magic wrapped around it and pulled it into her mind’s eye.

A mountain of pitch-black volcanic boulders rising out of a brilliant green forest and piercing the bluest sky she’d ever seen. A figure looking down on her. A hand reaching out to grasp hers. Three knocks in the darkness. Knock, knock, knock.

Vera gasped, wrenching her hand back from the notebook, and let the mattress fall back into place.

“What did you see?” Drew asked, hopping up into the motorhome.

“A…mountain.” She shook her head. Her thoughts were buzzing and her magic crackled as she recalled the black rock.

“A mountain? What the bloody hell does a mountain have to do with anything?”

“I don’t know…”

Drew waited a moment. “So? Is she an Exile or not?”

A clang echoed inside the garage and Wally’s head appeared in the window.

“Uh oh. I’m outta here,” Drew declared, then legged it across the yard and into the scrub, leaping over the spiky tufts of spinifex grass.

Wally barged out of the garage and stormed over to the van. Looking inside at Vera, he scowled. “And what in blue blazes do you think you’re doing?”

“Uh…” Vera began, “canvassing for clues?”

“This isn’t the way to earn her trust.” The mechanic ran a thumb along the edge of the door. “Lucky for you, that boy didn’t do any damage.”

“Wally, don’t be mad,” she said, fluttering her eyelashes. “We have to know sooner rather than later.”

“And who’s fault is that? You’re lucky Kyne isn’t here.”

Vera snorted and hopped out of the van. “Well, he isn’t, and I’m sick of hearing about him.”

Wally closed the sliding door and sighed. “Go on, get outta here before Eloise comes back.”

Vera huffed and stalked away, her mind full of more questions than answers.

Eloise pushed open the door of the opal shop and stepped out into the afternoon sun.

Hardy had begun teaching her the finer mechanics of cutting potch, but her mind was still on the miner. What was his name? Kyne. Total hottie, but man, what a douche.

She hadn’t heard much of what they’d said, but it wasn’t good. In the end, Hardy had bought himself an expensive parcel of black opal—apparently, it was a huge deal—and had set about teaching her the basics of grinding out imperfections before going off to fawn over the new stones.

She’d spent most of the day at the array of diamond grinding wheels, experimenting with cutting different shapes. The goal was to make the stones as big as possible, all while grinding off the imperfections. Her fingers were raw and wobbly from the constant stream of water running over her work, but Hardy said it was to stop the opal from burning or cracking—the grinder created a lot of heat.

There was a reason he’d given her potch to work with. Opal was softer than she’d expected and the slightest touch against the grinder was a battle of wills…and power. Practice was the only thing that was going to stop her from accidentally grinding away a whole stone.

He seemed satisfied with her work and promised to teach her the next step—polishing—tomorrow.

Looking up the road, Eloise decided she’d gathered enough courage to venture into the Outpost. Last night hadn’t been her finest hour. Awkward was her middle name, after all. Eloise Awkward-Mind-Eraser Hart, at your service.

Vera was sitting on the verandah when she approached.

“Did I see you come out of Hardy’s just now?” the Irishwoman asked, not saying hello.

Eloise nodded. “Yeah. He kind of offered me a job.”

“Kind of?” Vera laughed. “How does one kind of offer someone a job?”

She shrugged. “He wants me to polish potch.”

“Ahh, for his pet project. The man has stamina, but he does too much.”

Eloise bit her tongue, wondering how many men the redhead had been through. She certainly implied it.

“Listen, about last night…” Eloise swatted away a persistent fly. “I’m sorry, it’s just…” She waved another fly away. “I didn’t mean…”

Vera smiled at her. “Don’t mention it. Finn should be the one doing the apologising. His toxic commentary has enraged the best of us.”

Eloise suspected Vera was just trying to be nice by skirting around her unwillingness to be touched, but she was determined not to let her anxiety drive her away, not this time. It was only her second day here.

“You always seem to apologise for him. Were you together?”

Vera laughed and shook her head. “God, no.”

“Hardy?”

“No…but I wouldn’t mind.”

Eloise waved away another fly, noticing that they seemed to give Vera a wide berth and go straight for her instead. She swatted at the annoying bugs and spat as one tried to fly into her mouth.

“Annoying little things, aren’t they?” Vera asked.

“Why aren’t they bothering you?”

“Vanilla.” She fished in her pocket and took out a small, clear atomiser filled with a yellowish liquid. “It’s my own special blend, all natural. You want to try some?”

She didn’t see the harm in it. “Sure.”

“Stand back. Arms out.” Vera held up the atomiser as Eloise assumed the position and spritzed the sweet-smelling liquid over her. “There. Now they won’t want a bar of you.”

As promised, the flies began to dodge her, searching other prey to annoy to death.

“It’s a miracle,” she said.

“Hardly,” Vera told her. “Just nature’s craziness.” She nodded towards the door. “Are you looking to do some shopping?”

“Maybe. Just seeing the sights for now.”

“Well, you’ve pretty much seen all Solace has to offer in one glance.” Vera laughed and opened the door. “Come on in.”

When they walked in, Drew was sitting behind the counter flipping through a magazine. He smirked at Eloise. “I was wondering when I’d see you again.”

“Luckily for me, you’re fully clothed,” she retorted.

Vera snorted, covering her mouth with her hand. When she’d composed herself, she asked, “Are you looking for anything in particular? We’ve got a bit of everything.”

“Not really. I just wanted to check it out.”

“Well, let me give you the grand tour.”

Vera took her on the round-trip, past the fruit and veg crates at the front, the fridges and freezers on one side, the grocery aisles in the middle, then hardware and miscellaneous goods on the other side. The post office and banking facilities were situated at the front counter, as well as a rack of postcards and packing materials. There was even a small shelf of souvenirs and cheap sunglasses by the counter, and one of those freezers with the sliding tops that was full of ice-cream. A storeroom was at the rear and a set of stairs led to a basement area, which she explained was a section of old opal mine that she’d converted to a small apartment after buying the place.

Eloise was impressed as they walked the length of one of the aisles. Vera had a good set up. It was bright and rather clean for the outback—red dirt got into everything out here.

“It’s a good set up,” Vera told her. “I’m not a millionaire, but I do a decent trade. This is the only place to get food for a hundred kilometres. With Wally and his garage, and Blue and the pub, we’ve got the place covered.”

Eloise opened her mouth to reply, but the roar of engines vibrated outside. She turned to the windows just as a convoy of motorcycles slowed in front of the Outpost. They pulled up in a long formation on the side of the road, a dozen leather and denim-clad men revving their engines.

They were unmistakably bikies—big, hulking men with insignia on their vests and jackets. There was nothing exciting or romantic about them.

“Get out of here,” Vera snapped at Drew before striding towards the front of the shop. “Watch the back, they’ll be on it.”

Eloise looked over her shoulder as Drew sprinted down the aisle, then disappeared into the storeroom.

“Who are these guys?” she asked as two of the men got off their motorcycles.

“Go down the aisle,” Vera hissed. “Stay quiet.”

Eloise gritted her teeth but did as she was told, not wanting to get involved in whatever shakedown was about to happen.

The door opened and heavy boots thudded on the floor as the men barged in.

Her breath caught as she felt something change in the air. It was similar to the sensation she’d sensed around Coen and the others, even on the road outside, but they were cold.

The door closed with a bang and they looked around the store. Eloise tensed, lingering beside the breakfast cereal. Think small thoughts. Think small thoughts.

“We’re looking for Drew,” the bigger man growled. “Be a good girl and tell us where that rat is hiding.”

When Vera didn’t answer straight away, he shoved over the postcard display, the metal rack falling to the floor with a clatter. Cards scattered everywhere, sliding underneath the shelves. Then he picked up a bottle of tomato sauce from the nearest shelf and dropped it.

Red sauce splattered, coating the postcards and linoleum, and splintered glass fanned out around the drop zone.

“Give it a rest!” Vera exclaimed. “I’ve got nothing to do with whatever you’ve got going on with Drew.”

“Where is he?” the first man growled. “We know he’s been here. I can smell him.”

“He came in yesterday,” she bluffed. “Bought some grog, then left.”

“Bullshit.”

Eloise eyed the second man, her gaze falling to the insignia on his vest. White writing wrapped around an image of a howling wolf…no, it was a dingo. Their little biker gang was called the Dust Dogs.

She wanted to laugh at the irony but knew better than to make a sound. There wasn’t much going on for a criminal gang out here, but these men seemed to be more into thuggery than anything else—turf wars and robbery. If she did anything to provoke them, they’d likely force Vera to crack open the till.

“Who’s that?” the first man demanded, pointing to Eloise.

“No one,” Vera replied. “She’s just passing through. A traveller.” Then she muttered something to him that Eloise couldn’t make out.

The man whistled and his mate turned down the aisle, striding towards Eloise.

Damn it.

The man stared at her, his bulky frame looming. She didn’t dare break eye contact.

Suddenly, he barked at her like a dog, making her flinch. He laughed and stepped closer.

She hissed. “Once more step and—”

“And you’ll what, little girl?” he demanded.

Eloise gathered her courage, narrowed her eyes, and held up her hand, hoping her gut feeling was right. “I’ll give you a lobotomy, that’s what.”

“She’s nobody,” the man called, eyeing her suspiciously. “Never seen her before.”

“You tell Drew we know he’s hiding around here,” the first man snarled at Vera. “It’s only a matter of time before we hunt him down and get back what’s ours. You tell him.”

Vera nodded, her eyes wide as something silent passed between her and the bikie.

Waving at his mate, the man growled, “Let’s get out of this shithole.”

The man snarled at Eloise one last time before he backed away, joining the other man as they left the shop.

Outside, the Dust Dogs brought their engines to life, revving the beasts in a show of macho intimidation. The windows rattled and Eloise stuck her fingers in her ears. They began to howl and bark, making rude gestures at the Outpost before they rolled out, kicking up a cloud of dust as they went.

Drew didn’t show his face until the sound of the convoy had long faded. He slunk out of the storeroom, betraying he hadn’t gone far, and returned to the front of the store.

Eloise followed, watching him closely as her hands trembled. She wasn’t used to confrontation and was feeling a little woozy. What was next? A Molotov through the front window? After seeing that display, she wouldn’t be surprised.

“You lied to me,” Vera hissed at Drew.

“I didn’t lie…” he fired back, “I left a few things out. There’s a difference.”

She picked up a potato and hurled it at him with an angry cry. Drew ducked and it slammed into the wall behind him.

Eloise sighed and began to pick up postcards, separating the clean ones from the tomato sauce. There was definitely something askew about this place. The evidence was mounting, but the case was still unknown.

“Get out!” Vera shrieked. “Get out and don’t come back until you’ve sorted out your shit! I’ve had enough!”

Drew ducked another potato and swore loudly before storming out. He slammed the door behind him, the glass rattling.

“Sorry,” Vera said, kneeling beside Eloise. “I’m so bloody embarrassed.” She picked up postcards, her anger palpable.

“Don’t worry about it,” Eloise told her. “It’s not your fault.”

“I knew he had a troubled past, but I thought I was doing a good thing. Give him a leg up, you know? But those guys…”

“You tried to do a good thing for him. Not many people care.”

Vera glanced at her. “Sounds like you know about it.”

Eloise shrugged. “I’ve travelled a lot. People are the same wherever you go.”

“You travel in your van?”

“Yeah.”

“All the time?”

“For a couple of years now.”

“What about your family? Are they okay with you driving around on your own?”

“I can take care of myself,” Eloise replied.

“I’m sure you can.” Vera glanced at the door. “You seem to know how to handle yourself.”

“I hate to buy into stereotypes, but as a solo female traveller, I have to.”

Vera gestured for Eloise to help her lift the postcard stand and they heaved it upright. “Well, there’s more to you than meets the eye.”

“I was adopted as a baby,” she admitted, hardly understanding why she was opening up to Vera of all people. “I always knew I was, my parents never sugarcoated it. I guess it made an impression on me.”

“I bet. What about your real parents?”

“I was told they died, but that’s all I know.”

“What about your adoptive parents?”

She shrugged. “We don’t talk.”

“Oh… I’m sorry.”

“What about your family? It’s a long way from Ireland.”

“They’re dead,” Vera stated.

Eloise’s cheeks heated. “Oh, I…”

Vera laughed and shook her head. “Welcome to the sad orphan’s club. There’s a lot of that around here. Mining is a lonely business…as lonely as the outback itself. It doesn’t leave a lot of time for romance, let alone families.” She ducked behind the counter and dumped the ruined postcards into the bin. “I guess that’s why I like it here. It’s a simple life. Usually.”

Eloise looked out the windows at the empty road and wondered if it really was that simple. It seemed Drew’s problems was going to suck everyone in Solace into the whirlpool around a plughole leading to a showdown with the Dust Dogs. She wondered what he’d stolen.

“Don’t worry about them,” Vera told her. “They won’t bother you. Drew will work it out.” She seemed sure of it…despite the potatoes she’d thrown at him.

The door opened and Hardy appeared out of thin air, his gaze flickering between the two women. He seemed startled to find Eloise there, but it was so fleeting she began to think she’d misunderstood.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Vera replied. “They just wanted to ask a few questions.”

Eloise raised her eyebrows but said nothing.

Hardy looked at her. “You okay, Eloise?”

“Sure. No problems.”

“I’m so sorry you got caught up in all of that,” Vera said, wiping tomato sauce on her denim shorts. “Especially since I waxed poetic about Solace.”

“Like I said,” she replied, “people are the same wherever you go.”

They were silent for a little too long for Eloise’s liking and old anxieties began to rise. So far, they were the nicest people she’d ever met, and that was saying something. It didn’t take much for anyone to hit a high score.

“Well then,” she said, sliding open the ice cream freezer. She picked out a Pine Lime Splice—vanilla ice cream with an icy pine lime shell on a stick—and held it up. “I’ll take one of these for the road.”

Chapter 5

Hardy looked over Eloise’s shoulder as she ground a piece of potch into an oval.

She hadn’t taken the skin off her fingertips on the wheel so far, and her shapes were pretty accurate for a beginner.

He leaned back against the counter and supervised her cutting, thinking back on what happened the day before.

After Eloise had left the Outpost, Vera admitted what she and Drew had done while he was in the shop with Eloise. They’d broken into Eloise’s van so the witch could trigger her vision, but what she ended up seeing was peculiar to say the least. A black mountain, a figure, and three knocks.

Then Vera had sprayed her with a potion that’d been masked in her famous vanilla fly repellant. ‘A little something to loosen her tongue,’ she’d told him. Despite her magic, Eloise still seemed to be tightlipped, though Vera had found out that she was adopted after her birth parents had died and wasn’t on good terms with her adoptive parents.

Two clues that didn’t seem to add up to anything.

“How’s this?” she asked, holding up the potch she’d been working on.

He held out his hand and she dropped the stone onto his palm, careful not to touch him. A third clue.

Inspecting her work, Hardy nodded. “Good. It’s a nice shape, few marks from the grinder… This’ll polish up well. You’ve got a natural talent.” Perhaps a fourth clue.

“I’m not sure about that.”

“I am,” he told her. “Tell me, how long have you travelled in that motorhome for?”

She shrugged. “A few years.”

“You must have seen parts of this country few others have.”

“I guess so.” She deflected his questioning easily and he knew it was a well-practiced tactic. “What about you? Have you always been around opal?”

Hardy smiled. He couldn’t exactly tell her the real story behind his journey to Australia, not yet.

“I came to this country from Britain when I was a boy,” he explained. “I moved around a lot until I settled in the outback. Working underground didn’t suit me, but I was interested in opal more than gold. You can shape and polish it, revealing more than anything you could smelt with gold. The income is more stable than mining.”

“And safer, I bet.”

Hardy laughed. “Sure is.”

Whatever had happened with the Dust Dogs yesterday had emboldened her enough to give her the courage to cut out from behind her hard, outer shell. Vera had told him she’d stood up to one of the bikers, but the witch hadn’t heard whatever she’d said to the guy to get him to back down.

Hardy wished he’d been there—he should’ve heard the motorcycles with his enhanced senses, but he’d been too engrossed with the black opal Kyne had brought in. Miners got opal fever, but so did the polishers. Uncovering the hidden flecks of colour was a thrill he never seemed to tire of.

“Well,” he added, “better get back to it. I’ve got a bucket of black you can have a go at later.”

Her eyes widened. “Black?”

“The potch I cut off the stuff Kyne brought in. Give you a bit of variety.”

Her expression soured. “He seems a bit…abrasive.”

“Don’t worry about him. He’s grumpy, but he’s a good guy under it all. Miners like him get their back up when they’re on a good thing underground.”

“So, he’s paranoid someone will find his claim?”

“Sure. Ratters prowl the scrub all the time.”

“Ratters?” Eloise asked.

“Thieves,” Hardy explained. “They’d rather nick stuff than do the hard yards themselves.”

“Seriously?” She scowled. “People really go into other people’s mines and dig out opal?”

“I wish I was pulling your leg, but unfortunately, I’m not.” He opened the drawer behind him and took out the ziplock bag containing the black offcuts. “Here. Give this a crack, eh?”

As Eloise selected a nice-looking bit of black potch, he sat beside her and watched as she began to grind the edges. Every so often she’d glance at him looking for guidance, but she didn’t need any. Her instincts guided her with a precision he’d rarely seen.

A fifth clue.

Eloise was an elemental, he was sure of it. It just seemed she had no idea, even though she understood she was different.

He wanted to help her, but he knew nothing of her kind—not to mention telling her he was a vampire would be a step too far. She seemed like a good person. Interesting, though reserved. Intelligent, yet unsure.

There was only one person who could give her the answers she needed.

It was time to convince Kyne to come back to Solace.

When the sun set in the remote outback, the only light came from the moon.

The landscape disappeared into pitch-black, the kilometres of scrub and low-rising hills vanished, and another world awoke. Nocturnal creatures came out to forage and explore—lizards, snakes, bandicoots, and dingo packs—though all sound seemed to cease unless a breeze rose.

Kyne was sitting by his campfire when he saw a pair of yellow headlights approach through the scrub.

Groaning, he leaned back in his camp chair and picked up his rifle. If it was a ratter, they would’ve turned off their lights. Most likely, it was Hardy coming to stick his cold, dead nose where it didn’t belong.

The car’s engine hummed, disturbing the tranquility, and as it pulled up next to Kyne’s camp, he saw it was Hardy’s beat up 4WD Jeep.

He didn’t bother getting up to greet the buyer as he hopped out and stepped into the firelight.

Hardy glanced at the rifle in Kyne’s lap. “Problems?”

He sipped at his beer but didn’t let go of the gun. “Are there?”

“Only if there isn’t a beer in that Esky for me, mate.”

Kyne shrugged and set the rifle down on the ground. “Help yourself.”

Hardy opened the cooler and took out a can, sitting on a rock beside the campfire. A log popped, sending a billow of sparks towards the sky where the Milky Way glittered, millions and millions of stars shining in the vacuum of space.

They sat in silence for a while, drinking and watching the flames flicker as they devoured the wood. Whatever the vampire wanted, it had nothing to do with opal, but Kyne wasn’t about to send him away. It wouldn’t take much for Hardy to snap him in half if it came to blows.

“There’s several things I’d like to bring to your attention,” Hardy began.

“Should I be taking minutes?” Kyne drawled.

“Hilarious.”

“What is it, Hardy?” he asked. “I know driving thirty minutes on dirt tracks in the pitch-black is a piece of cake for a vampire, but even so—”

“The Dust Dogs finally came looking for Drew.”

Kyne snorted. “I warned Vera about taking him in. Whatever trouble he’s gotten into with the Dogs will become Solace’s. It doesn’t matter if our hands are clean.”

Hardy snorted.

“What?”

“You said ‘our’.”

“So?”

“They trashed Vera’s shop.”

“Define the level of ‘trash’.”

Hardy sighed and looked to the darkness surrounding Kyne’s camp.

“I just want to be left alone.”

“That’s the thing, Kyne… You’re in this just as much as the rest of us. You can’t just decide not to care about the seal.”

Kyne ground his teeth and stared into the fire. How was he supposed to find his powers when he kept getting interrupted?

“I don’t remember putting my hand up to be the leader of the Exiles, Hardy. I never wanted it.”

“Which makes you the perfect person for the job.”

“Reluctant leaders get killed first. Besides, I’m in no position to lead anything.” His powers had abandoned him, and his head wasn’t screwed on straight. The only place he’d lead those people to, was disaster.

“You’re the only person the fae will listen to,” Hardy went on. “Things between Vera and Finn are hanging by a thread. The Dust Dogs are coming back. And then there’s Eloise…”

Kyne looked up and scowled. “That stray you took in?”

Hardy nodded. “I think she’s an elemental.”

“Excuse me?” Kyne sat up straight and eyeballed the vampire. “Bullshit. If she was, I would’ve sensed it.”

“Would you, though? You just said it yourself. Your powers—”

“Shut up.”

Hardly curled his lip and looked over the miner. “This attitude of yours is getting old, you know. Everyone has problems.”

“Not everyone is as old as you.”

Hardy ignored him. “Vera sprayed her with one of her potions. Fly repellant.”

“This ought to be good.”

“Adopted, no knowledge of her birth parents, on bad terms with her adoptive parents, has been travelling in that motorhome for several years. She’s searching for something.”

“Answers,” Kyne muttered. Just like everyone else.

“Vera said she couldn’t get anything else out of her. It was like she was unknowingly fighting against the potion.”

“So, she was adopted. I don’t see how that makes her an elemental.”

“You haven’t seen how she handles opal, Kyne. It’s like…” He paused and held out his hands, his face screwed up as he searched for the right words. “She knows exactly where to cut.”

“It’s just beginner’s luck.”

“No. It’s more than that. No one picks up opal and gets it right the first time. No one.”

“It means nothing.”

“Stop being dismissive, Kyne. You don’t even know her.”

He rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair, regretting the day he’d found that bloody seal underneath Solace. He just wanted some peace and quiet.

“I don’t think she realises what she is,” Hardy murmured, “or what else resides in this world. She knows something is different about her, something supernatural. I feel like she wants to understand but doesn’t know how to ask for help.”

“Can you blame her?” Kyne asked with a snort. “It’s not like she can be honest about the things she can do…which are still unknown, by the way.”

“That’s why we need to help her.”

“What’s this ‘we’ business?” He tossed his empty beer can into the cooler. “If you’re so worried, why don’t you help her?”

“I’m a vampire, Kyne. Maybe we should ease her into it. Go with someone she’ll bond with.”

“Bond?” Kyne laughed. “You want me to bond with her?”

“It’s not a euphemism. If she’s an elemental, then who better?”

“Providing she’s one and actually wants help.”

At that moment, a dark shape burst out of the darkness and leapt over the campfire. The kangaroo landed in front of Kyne, knocking him backwards off his chair. He was on his feet in a flash but stilled when another shape approached the ring of light.

Hardy started to laugh as the kangaroo bounded away. “Coen, you’re a sneaky bugger, aren’t you?”

Kyne scowled. “What are you doing here?”

Coen chuckled, his eyes flashing. “Marlu brought me. Blame him.”

Hardy glanced at Kyne, who shrugged and righted his chair again. Coen followed spirits during the night, only appearing when he decided he was ready to talk to someone, which wasn’t often.

“I see Min Min,” he told them, squatting by the fire. He held out his hands, warming them. “They led me this way.”

The Min Min were unexplained lights that haunted the darkness of the outback. They often led the unsuspecting on lengthy chases into the wilderness or followed and harassed travellers. When challenged, they vanished without a trace…or so the stories went. Kyne spent a lot of time out here on his own but had never seen them. Mostly they were signs of remote human habitation, but on the odd occasion they were something else entirely. What, was anyone’s guess.

“I thought you said you were chasing the kangaroo?” he asked.

“I was. Marlu chase the Min Min.”

Hardy chuckled and shook his head. “Never a dull moment, eh?”

Coen grinned. “They want me to come here.”

“Not you, too,” Kyne said with a groan.

“That’s right,” Hardy mused. “You spoke to Eloise last night.”

This was news to Kyne. He looked at the young Aboriginal man in a new light. Coen was on a walkabout and didn’t come close to town unless he wanted something, which was rare—the land gave him everything he needed to survive—but speaking to outsiders was rarer still.

“She’s looking for her mob,” he told them. “She’s on a walkabout without even realising it.” He held up his hand and swept it across the sky. “I see.”

“Have the ancestors spoken?” Hardy asked.

“The land calls her,” Coen told them. “The marlu found her on the road by her broken van.”

The vampire stilled. “She’s drawn to Solace like the rest of us?”

Coen shrugged, but Kyne wasn’t so sure. It was true that supernaturals gravitated to Solace, though it was still unclear if it was because of the seal. Even without it, he knew this land was full of ancient magic. That’s why the fae had set up their camp outside of the town—their power faded without access to external magic. Others like Vera and Wally found community amongst other magical beings when they had no other place to turn.

But was Eloise an elemental? If she was…

The poor woman, Kyne thought. Her questions were only going to be answered with more heartache.

“She walks her path without knowing,” Coen said, looking dreamily up at the stars. “She carries a burden on her heart. She can fly but won’t open her wings.” He stood and stamped his bare foot on the fire, sending a chaotic tornado of sparks spiralling upwards.

“Watch your feet, mate.” Kyne stood, ready to push him out of the fire in case he fell into it.

Coen laughed and thumped his heel on the ground. “Tough as old boots.”

“What do you mean fly?” Hardy asked.

“Fly like Bunjil. He turned himself into an eagle to watch over the land.”

“Never heard of him,” Kyne said.

“He lives in the south by the sea.”

“Fair enough.” Kyne picked up a stick and began fixing the mess Coen had made of the fire. Coen meant ‘thunder’ in his mob’s language, and he certainly knew how to make a big noise when he decided he wanted to be heard. Unfortunately, his current wisdom was lost on the opal miner.

Hardy, however, was deep in thought. His expression was all scrunched up, his strong hand closing around his beer can until it’d crumpled inwards.

“It’s not a coincidence her van broke down here,” the vampire finally said.

Coen chuckled and looked up at the stars. “Jupiter is Bunjil’s campfire, like ours. He watches us like you watch below.” He put his hands on the ground.

“I have no idea what you’re on about,” Kyne grumbled.

“I think he’s trying to say Eloise is like Bunjil,” Hardy told him. “She creates nature but hasn’t learned how to fly. She watches us, like we watch what lays below Solace.”

In other words, an elemental who wasn’t aware of her true powers…but was suspicious of everyone around her.

Kyne glared at Coen. If the guy would stop chasing bloody kangaroos in the dark, it’d solve most of his problems—the major one being the constant interruptions he seemed to be suffering lately.

Hardy looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “Now will you come back to Solace?”

He sat back in his camp chair and reached for another beer. “Looks like I don’t have a choice.”

Chapter 6

Eloise dragged her pen across the page of her journal.

She sat on the step of her motorhome, half in and out of the side door. Digging her bare feet into the warm dirt, she absently drew, thinking about the last three days. An exploding engine, a lonely town, opals, stars, ‘interesting’ people, and a biker gang.

Snorting, she kept sketching. The clump of ink on the page looked more and more like the mountain from her dreams. The mountain she’d never been to…at least, she thought she’d never been there. The more she saw it, the more familiar it became, and the dream became confused with reality.

The early morning sun crept towards her little patch of shade, illuminating the red dirt behind Wally’s garage. The old mechanic was tinkering inside, and every so often she heard his tools ring out as he dropped them onto the concrete.

Last night he let her know that the replacement part would arrive in two weeks—back ordered with the manufacturer, apparently. It seemed like an eternity. She wondered what a head gasket looked like, but couldn’t picture it.

Eloise was deep in thought, her pen gouging a hole in her journal, when a shadow fell over her bare legs.

She jerked backwards and snapped her journal closed. Looking up, she saw it was the miner from Hardy’s.

“Didn’t mean to frighten you,” he said gruffly.

He wore a black cowboy hat that shaded his eyes, and his rough stubble and dirt-encrusted jeans made him look like he just rolled out of his mine. Literally.

Her gaze ran over him and she sighed. “No, no… I just… I didn’t see you.”

“I’m Kyne.”

She waited, but he said nothing else. “And?”

“Hardy said you were after some work. That you were interested in opal.”

She set her journal down on the step. “What kind of work?”

Kyne looked down at her bare legs. “Moving mined rock. Hard work, but I’ll pay.”

Her eyebrows rose. “You really want me to go out to your super-secret mine and help you dig out rare opal?”

“Hardy vouched for you.”

Eloise couldn’t help the dumfounded expression that formed on her face. A hardcore miner was asking a woman to help him haul rock? Either he was in touch with his feminine side, or something else was going on.

“If you think you can take me out into the middle of nowhere and cut me up into little pieces, you’ve got a screw loose,” she told him. “I know how to protect myself.”

Kyne smiled for the first time and his whole demeanour changed. He seemed almost…nice.

“I only do that to ratters,” he said.

“You really have problems with that?” she wondered. “There doesn’t seem to be anyone around to be a thief.”

“You’d be surprised.”

She bit her bottom lip and thought about what it would be like to go underground and see opal in its natural habitat.

“So, there’s more of that black you brought in the other day?” she asked.

Kyne nodded. “I want to get it all out before word gets around. There’s only so much I can do on my own.” He frowned and shuffled his weight from foot to foot. “It’ll only be for a couple of days, but you’d have to stay out there with me.”

“In the outback?”

He tipped his hat. “Do you like tents?” The look on her face must have been something else because he began to sell it hard. “It’s quiet and there are stars as far as the eye can see.” And snakes, ants, lizards, and a shovel to dig a hole to poop in. “No distractions. Simple food, simple living. The hard work is worth seeing the opal in the wall.”

Eloise thought about Coen and what he’d said about the Dreaming. The spirits, they speak through the sky and the animals. Could she’d find them out there? Maybe they were already speaking to her but she wasn’t in the right place to hear them.

“I’ll give you ten percent of whatever I find while you’re there,” he added.

Eloise’s heart skipped a beat. He’d just sold a parcel of black to Hardy for a hundred and fifty K. Ten percent was…fifteen grand. More than enough to cover the repairs on her van and then some. Paired with her savings and her low cost of living, it was a year’s worth of expenses. It was also more money than she’d ever had in the one place at the same time.

Provided that Kyne had more opal waiting for him in that mine of his…

She looked up at him. “What do I need?”

“Jeans, something warm for the night, thick socks, and steel-capped boots. Vera will have some if you don’t.”

“Is that all?”

“I’ll take care of the rest.”

“Okay.” She stood and dusted off her hands, finding he was half a head taller than her. He seemed proud, a little brusk, and a whole lotta mysterious.

“I have to get supplies,” Kyne told her. “Meet me at the Outpost when you’re ready.”

Vera was behind the counter when Kyne walked into the Outpost.

“Well, here’s a sight for sore eyes,” she drawled.

She put the lollipop she’d been sucking on back into her mouth a little too suggestively for his liking. The witch had tried—and failed—to get into his pants from the day she’d moved to Solace.

“Just here for some supplies,” he said, ignoring her.

“Got a list? Or is it stored in that pea-sized brain of yours?”

“I knew I should’ve gotten you that copy of How to Win Friends and Influence People for your birthday. You sorely need it.”

“Ditto.” She crunched her lollipop and tossed the stick into the bin. “What’s cooking, handsome? I know Hardy went out to see you at that hole of yours last night.”

Kyne sighed and glanced over his shoulder but there was no sign of Eloise.

“She’s pretty for a wallflower, isn’t she?”

Kyne didn’t bother biting. He pulled the list he’d written on a scrap of cardboard out of his shirt pocket and slapped it down on the counter. “Here’s your list. Oh, and I’ve got a feeling Eloise will need some boots.”

Vera’s eyebrows rose as she picked up the list. “Boots, huh? You finally taking a girl home to your burrow?”

“Shut up, Vera. For once in your life, stop with the smartarse commentary. You wanted me to come back and give a damn about Solace…well, here I am.”

The witch snorted and rounded the counter, grabbing the one and only trolly in the store. “Fair enough.” She peered at the cardboard. “I don’t see rope or cable ties on here.”

“Vera.”

“Joking. Harden up.” She snorted and began to laugh. “Get it? Harden up.”

Kyne narrowed his eyes. “Don’t give up your day job.”

He hadn’t met many elementals, but the one’s he had all had certain affinities—earth, air, fire, water, and the fifth and rarest element, ether. His talent was obviously with the earth, it’s what made him a good miner.

“You better give me some of that vanilla shit you like so much,” he added.

Vera smirked. “You want the additive?”

“No.” Kyne shook his head, hoping this shopping trip wouldn’t take too long. “This time it’s definitely for the flies.”

As Vera wheeled the trolley down the aisle, he found himself in the small, but full clothing section. It was mostly workwear—high-vis shirts, trousers, and safety gear—but there was a stand of brimmed hats like the one he wore. Akubra and Barmah. Costly, but Aussie made and tough.

The bell rung as the door opened and Kyne looked up as Eloise walked in, a backpack slung over one arm. Her mousey blonde hair was loose and her sunglasses sat on her head.

Get to know her, Hardy had said. Gain her trust. She needs help. I think she’s an elemental.

Their eyes met and he still wasn’t sure what Hardy saw in her.

“Here,” he said, waving her over. He took her sunglasses and picked up a slate grey hat and slapped it on her head. The colour picked up the grey spots in her otherwise green eyes and made them shine. “If you don’t want sunstroke, you’ll need a hat.”

She ducked down to look in the little mirror attached to the stand and swept her hair back.

“Looks good,” he told her. “You got boots?”

“Yeah,” she kicked up her foot. “Not steel-capped, though.”

“You’ll need them, believe me. What size are you?”

“Eight.”

There was only one style of women’s boots on the shelf—simple black lace ups. He took down a size eight and handed the box to her, not bothering to look at the price.

As she tried them on for size, he went and helped Vera at the till.

The witch shot him a knowing look and he shrugged. If Eloise was an elemental, he’d have her pegged the moment he got her into the mine. If she could find where the black opal was without his guidance, then he’d have a place to begin.

“They fit,” Eloise said, carrying the box in her arms. She stood beside Kyne, the boots laying haphazardly in the box.

“Add them on,” he told the witch.

Vera slammed her finger down on the total button on her ancient cash register and grinned as it let out a satisfying ding. “That’ll be three hundred and eighty-five dollars and fifty cents…plus GST.”

Eloise paled, but Kyne coughed to cover her embarrassment. Half of that was for her boots and hat. “Put it on my tab,” he said. “I’ll fix it up when we get back.”

“A miner who’s on a good thing,” the witch declared, grinning at Eloise. “He never bought me anything.”

“That’s because you never came to work for me.”

Vera chuckled and winked at Eloise. “That’s because I like to keep dirt on the ground and not underneath my nails.” She held up her hands and wiggled her emerald green fingers. To Kyne, she declared, “It’s a pleasure doing business with you.”

Outside, Kyne and Eloise loaded the contents of the trolley into the back of his ute.

He glanced at Eloise, deciding the hat suited her. Hardy was right about one thing—she was determined to give anything a go, even shovelling dirt in a mine in the middle of woop woop.

When he returned the trolley, Vera blew him a kiss, but he was outside and hopping into his ute before she had the chance to give him some parting ‘wisdom’.

“Are you sure?” Eloise asked as she sat beside him.

“About?”

“Everything.” She opened the box containing her boots and began to thread the laces. “I don’t have the money to pay you back for this stuff. The hat was…” A hundred bucks.

“It’s necessary for the job. I can write it off on tax.” Kyne turned the key in the ignition and revved the engine. “But if you’re so worried, I can take it out of your wages.”

She flushed, her cheeks pinking. “Are you that sure you’ve got more opal down there?”

“Yes,” he said, reversing onto the road, “I am.”

Black Hole Mine was a blink and you’ll miss it kind of place.

Kyne’s camp consisted of a clearing with a ramshackle lean-to and the remains of a campfire. Everything else he seemed to need was loaded in the tray of his ute. He wasn’t lying when he said it was simple living.

The ride over had been silent and uneventful, the track as bumpy as her thought patterns. She didn’t know how to talk to him, which wasn’t anything new, but thankfully, he didn’t seem to mind her lack of conversation skills. He didn’t have any, either.

Eloise hopped out of the car and looked around as Kyne unloaded the generator and fuel. Scrub and dry, woody trees stretched as far as the eye could see, the sky impossibly blue.

The flies out here were just as bad as the ones in town, and she was glad Vera had given her a supply of her miracle vanilla repellant.

Above ground, the mine wasn’t much to look at, but she was beginning to see the double meaning behind the name Kyne had given it.

A grate sat over the shaft, which was about a metre or so in diameter, and a metal ladder hooked over the top edge, descending into the tunnel below. It was an intimidating hole that led into a black maw, and Eloise began to regret coming out here. Theory and practice were two different things now that she stood at the precipice.

Another ladder-like contraption rose out of the shaft and climbed up into the air on a diagonal. It ran for a few metres, then came to an abrupt end, the tip hanging in mid-air. Below was a cone-shaped pile of dirt and gravel.

“That’s the hoist. It gets the dirt out of the mine,” Kyne explained, leaning over the back of the ute’s tray. “You load it into the bucket at the bottom of the shaft, then hit the button to send it topside. It goes up the track, dumps out at the top, then comes back down. Runs on a diesel generator.”

“That’s what I’ll be using?”

“Yes.”

“And what will you do?”

“I’ll be jackhammering rock out of the wall.”

“Fair enough.” She turned and began to haul out more gear. There was only one tent…and it looked small.

Seeing the look on her face, Kyne said, “I like to sleep outside, snakes and all. That’s for you.”

“Snakes?”

“Don’t tell me you’re afraid of them?”

“No, I…” She swallowed hard. “I don’t have anything against snakes, I just don’t need to exist in the same space as them.”

His lips quirked. “Fair enough.” She turned back to the tent, but he shook his head. “Leave that for now. I want to get started.” He handed her a hardhat and swapped his hat out with his own battered one. “Keep it on at all times. Last thing anyone needs out here is a concussion.”

He grabbed a jerry can, poured some diesel into the generator, then started it. Checking the connections, he gestured for her to follow him to the shaft.

“You first,” he said.

Eloise looked over the edge and a lump formed in her throat. Light glowed below but it was impossible to tell how far the shaft sank into the ground. “How far down is it?”

“About twenty-four feet. Seven metres or so.”

She took a deep breath. It wasn’t that deep, but it was still a long way to fall.

“Take it slow,” Kyne told her. “One rung at a time.”

The last thing Eloise wanted to do was show weakness, so she flung her leg over the side and hopped onto the ladder. Her fingers tightened around the rung and she began the slow descent into Black Hole Mine.

Think happy thoughts. Think happy thoughts. Think happy thoughts…

Kyne watched her progress from above, not once urging her to hurry. He said nothing, letting her make her way to the bottom. Finally, when her boots touched solid earth, a sigh of relief shuddered through her entire body.

“I’m at the bottom,” she called up.

“Stay there. I’ll be right down.”

The ladder shook as Kyne transferred his weight onto it and Eloise looked down the tunnel. It was lit by a series of light bulbs strung up with heavy duty power cables—the miner’s version of fairy lights. The walls were covered in gouge marks from machinery and were a mottle of different colours. She could see the changes in the layers of earth down the shaft and her mind spun. This must be the ancient coral reef Hardy had told her about.

Kyne had dug down to the level, then outwards in search of the opal deposits. It seemed simple when she thought about it that way, but there was a great deal of work just getting this deep.

Kyne scaled the ladder like a monkey, almost sliding all the way down—he was that fast on his feet—but the moment his boots touched the ground, his energy changed.

“Stay behind me,” he said.

“What’s wrong? She hadn’t felt anything, but it was her first time underground. What did she know?

Kyne looked down the tunnel, his eyes flashing. “Something doesn’t feel right.”

Her heart began to beat faster. “Is it ratters?”

“I hope not.”

Hoping it wasn’t his paranoia talking, she followed him down the tunnel, keeping a safe distance.

The mine burrowed deeper than Eloise had realised. More openings led away from the main tunnel and larger pockets showed just how much Kyne had dug.

Had he really done this all on his own? It didn’t seem feasible, let alone safe.

It wasn’t long before they came to the site of his recent workings. A jackhammer lay against the wall along with several buckets, a shovel, a pick, and a pair of floodlights on a bright yellow stand.

“Shit,” Kyne hissed, looking upwards.

A crack split the ceiling, the fault running through the chamber and into the support. At least it wasn’t ratters, but it was worse. A cave-in would damage and bury the opal, setting his work back months…or stopping it completely. She was smart enough to understand being buried alive wasn’t good for anyone.

“I’m assuming that wasn’t here yesterday,” Eloise murmured, too afraid to speak any louder in case the vibrations dislodged the tonnes of rock above them.

“No,” Kyne replied, “it wasn’t.”

He placed his hand on the wall and looked up, his brow creasing.

“Is there any way to support it?” she asked.

“I’m no—” Whatever he was going to say was swallowed up by a thunderous crack, and rock began to fall around them.

Eloise stumbled backwards, her heart lurching as a huge slab of stone came crashing down, and Kyne lunged towards her.

There was no time to do anything to stop him. His arms wrapped around her and they fell to the ground, his body shielding hers from the impossible weight of a thousand tonnes of rock and debris.

A deafening boom echoed through the tunnel and the lights flickered out, sending everything into darkness.

Chapter 7

The sun beat down on Drew’s back as he scurried barefoot through the scrub.

He carried a heavy hessian bag that bashed against his leg as he leapt from stone to stone, trying to obscure his tracks. Using his shovel as a vault, he moved across the countryside like a rabbit, jumping and hopping like a crazy person.

When he was far enough away from Solace but close enough to the fae’s camp, he stopped. The Dust Dogs wouldn’t come here—they knew better than to mess with a bunch of fae, even if they came armed.

He picked a lonely boab tree, tossed the bag down, and began to dig a hole at the base.

Drew had lost count of all the ways he’d screwed up a long time ago, but his biggest mistake was falling in with the Dust Dogs. That mistake he could remember with pinpoint accuracy.

Honestly, it’d seemed like a good idea at the time. He was a dingo shifter, bound to his shape and animal instincts, and he needed a pack…or so he’d thought. The only one he knew of was the Dust Dogs. Too bad they turned out to be a gang of bikers with a thirst for the hunt.

Drew had mixed with bad crews before, but none of them had been like the Dogs. Blood, crime, violence…

A hiss forced his head to rise and he saw a snake slither towards him. It was a big, brownish-grey death adder. Temperamental and deadly, it was one of the most dangerous in Australia.

He tensed and grasped his shovel. Who’d strike quicker?

“Careful, dingo,” a voice said from above. “He likes to bite dodgy canines who bury their shit in my backyard.”

Drew looked up and saw Finn sitting in the branches of the boab. “Are you spying on me?”

The fae leapt down, landing lithely on the ground next to the adder. The snake hissed and curled up his leg, disappearing underneath his silky black shirt.

“You’re the one trespassing,” Finn said, his grey eyes blazing. “Leave the questions to me.”

Drew stood and dusted his hands off against his pants. “I’m outside your border, fairy. Don’t threaten me.”

Finn smirked. “You’re two inches off.”

“Bullshit.”

“That better be a turd,” the fae drawled, “because I want no part of your trouble with the Dust Dogs.”

Drew said nothing, but it was as good as admitting he was up to no good.

“I knew you stole something from them,” Finn said. “What is it?”

“None of your business.”

“Oh, I think it is. You’re burying hot merchandise on my property; your ex-boyfriends are trashing Vera’s shop and causing trouble all over. I hear them at night, howling. They’re on the hunt.” His gaze shifted to the disturbed earth at the base of the boab. “I’m guessing they want that back.”

“Look, I’m doing this for the good of Solace,” Drew said. “If I didn’t take it, they’d be out for more blood.”

Finn glanced at the base of the tree. “What is it?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted.

“You don’t know?” The fae snorted and shoved him aside.

“Finn.” Drew grabbed his arm. “Don’t.”

He turned and glared at the shifter. “Why not?”

Drew bit his tongue.

“This has already become our problem, Drew,” Finn drawled. “Vera took you in out of the goodness in her heart, and all you’ve done is bring your trouble with you. You’ve done nothing to redeem yourself or pay off her kindness…and Solace’s.”

“I’m not one of you,” Drew hissed. “I’m still the exiled dog, nothing but a bloody ex-con to all of you.”

“We’re all Exiles,” the fae snapped. “We’re in this together. If Vera can stomach the fae after what my people did to hers, then telling the truth is the least you can do. We’ve all got baggage, princess.”

Drew ground his teeth and tightened his grip on the shovel. He couldn’t tell anyone. The less people who knew about it, the better. They were lucky the Dust Dogs didn’t know about the seal. If they did, they’d burn Solace to the ground just to get to it.

Drew couldn’t let it happen. That was how he was going to repay Vera, even though she’d never know it. Let them hate him if that’s what it took.

Before he could talk himself out of it, Drew struck. The shovel collided with Finn’s head, sending the fae sprawling. He landed on his back, his arms spread wide…and he didn’t move.

Drew knelt over him and checked his pulse. It was strong, but the guy was well and truly out cold. Finn was going to hate him even more for this, but what did it matter? He was already the outsider amongst a pack of outsiders. Nothing was worse than being rejected by society’s unwanted.

The snake slithered out from underneath the fae’s shirt and rose, eyeing Drew. He cursed and backed away, brandishing the shovel.

“I got nothing against you, mate,” he told the reptile. “Your daddy is going to wake up in a little while and be right as rain.”

The adder swayed back and forth a few times, their tense standoff making him sweat, but after a moment, the snake thought better of it and returned to its place underneath Finn’s shirt.

Drew heaved a sigh of relief and turned back to the boab. He’d have to find somewhere else to bury his stash.

Finn’s eyes opened, the sun blinding.

A shadow covered his face and he groaned as he was poked with the sharp end of a stick.

“It’s bad to sleep in the sun,” a familiar voice said.

Finn sat up as Coen leaned over and handed him a leather bladder full of cool water.

“Too much sun makes you sick,” he continued, watching the fae gulp down mouthfuls of liquid.

“I didn’t plan on it. Drew hit me with a shovel.”

Coen reached into his pocket and pulled out a brown and white feather. He twirled it in his fingers, then held it out to the fae. “For you.”

Finn knew better than to refuse a gift from Coen, so he took the feather and poked the end into one of his dreadlocks. “Did you see Drew?”

He nodded. “He digs like a dingo.”

“He is a dingo.” Finn rubbed his throbbing temple. “Did you see what he was carrying?”

“Looked like a tucker bag to me…” Coen replied. “A magic tucker bag.”

A tucker bag was a bag, sometimes made out of hessian or oiled leather, designed to carry food, but Drew’s bag didn’t have anything edible in it.

“Did you see where he buried it?”

“No,” he replied. “That’s not important right now. You shouldn’t lay in the sun. Had to wake you up before you dried out.”

“Of course, it’s important,” Finn complained. “Drew stole something from the Dust Dogs and I want to know what it is.” Drew’s magic tucker bag contained something bad, it had to.

Coen shrugged, not bothered by it. “Water is more important to you right now.”

“It’s why they’re harassing Solace,” Finn argued. “They tried to intimidate Vera. They trashed the Outpost.”

“They tried, but they didn’t win.”

“This time,” the fae grumbled. “What about your spirits?”

“There are spirits lingering in the outback,” Coen said. “You’ve felt them.”

Finn nodded. He’d felt a lot of strange things since he come to Solace. It was a place of power that amplified his magic and gave him renewed life. Away from the link to his own world, he was a twisted shell, but no more. The witches had cast open their doors and he, like so many others, was reborn.

Still, he was unable to return to his homeland, as it was with the other fae who’d found themselves in Solace. It was his duty to protect them, though he’d never asked for the responsibility. A dozen souls lost, abandoned, and living in the outback, scratching out a meagre living. It wasn’t much to be proud of, but at least they weren’t withered husks.

“They’re not your questions to ask,” Coen added.

“So, I’m supposed to let Drew go and do whatever he wants?”

“Yes.”

“Even if the Dust Dogs come back and harass my camp?”

Coen pointed to the feather. “It won’t matter. She’ll fly like Bunjil.” He drew a line in the dirt with his big toe, then a circle to one side and another two lines, both vertical to the first.

Finn studied the crude drawing and thought it looked like two people facing off over something underground. The seal.

“Who is it?” he asked, not liking where this was going.

“Don’t know,” Coen replied. “It’s a warning…or a bit of advice. Could be both.”

“But you said ‘she’.”

Coen smiled and leaned over, picking up the death adder. It’d curled down Finn’s leg while they’d been ‘arguing’ and had slithered over to the Indigenous man. He didn’t seem bothered by the danger the snake’s bite held as he stroked its scales.

“You worry too much,” he said to the fae. “It’ll give you a headache.”

Finn rubbed his already throbbing temple and scowled. Coen never made any sense.

“Whatever. I’m going.” He took the snake back and began to walk away.

“Where are you going?” Coen called. “Water is the other way.”

“I’m going to look for Drew’s magic tucker bag.”

“You won’t find it!”

Finn scowled and ignored him, wandering off into the outback.

He searched for Drew’s trail until the sun went down, but he never found a trace of the dingo or his loot.

The only thing he returned with was Coen’s feather.

Chapter 8

The darkness was absolute as Eloise coughed, the sound of falling pebbles and dirt echoing through the collapsed mine.

She was alive.

“Kyne?” A heavy weight pressed over her, and she coughed again.

“I’m here,” came his voice from above.

He moved against her as he fumbled in the dark, and a moment later, a light switched on. It didn’t reveal a promising picture of their predicament, so Eloise tried not to look.

He was covered in dirt and his hardhat had fallen off like hers had—she could see one glowing white in the rubble beside them.

Kyne flicked the torch around and held it between them. “Are you all right?” He reached up with his free hand and she flinched.

“Wait.”

His fingers stopped a hairsbreadth from her cheek, and he frowned.

“I…” She swallowed hard. He’d already touched her when he’d thrown himself on top of her body to shield her from the collapsing celling. Her eyes searched his for the telltale sign of hatred or forgetfulness, but she didn’t find them.

It was the closest she’d been to another person and her heart hammered. Why wasn’t he affected?

Kyne looked around, angling the torch so he could see.

“Well,” he said, “we’re trapped pretty good.”

“If you’re trying to reassure me, you’re failing.” She drew in a deep breath, the air already feeling stale.

“Don’t worry. I’ll get us out.”

She scowled, beginning to become uncomfortable with his weight pressing into her. Why was she always so afraid of the one thing she longed for the most? If she could touch Kyne without him losing it, then what did that make him?

Her eyes widened as he looked up at the crumbled rock. Was he…? He had magic. He had to.

“Can you get your arm free?” he asked. “I need you to hold the torch.”

“I think so.” She wriggled, dragging her right arm out from where it was pinned between him and the wall. Rock dug into the side of her hand, drawing blood, but she reached up and grasped the torch.

“Aim it up,” he told her. As the torch lit up the jagged slab of rock, he assessed the situation. “Promise me one thing?”

“It depends,” Eloise replied.

“Don’t panic.”

“I think we already passed that point.”

“Promise.”

Her bottom lip trembled but she nodded. She was already beginning to feel claustrophobic.

Kyne took a deep breath, closing his eyes, but when he opened them, they burned a deep mottled ochre that glowed in the half-light.

Eloise didn’t have to worry about panicking; she was too shocked to react as he pushed his back against the rock. His weight slowly lifted from her body as he hauled the tonnes of debris off them, his face turning red with effort.

The rock cracked and fused, melding back into the tunnel. Pebbles and dust rained down as he reached out his hands and pushed the wall back into place. The stone clicked together like pieces of a puzzle, letting air back in.

Daylight filtered down the darkened tunnel as the mine settled back into place. It was still a mess, but the largest slab was once again above them, fused by whatever power Kyne had unleashed.

He let out a long breath and looked down at her, the glow in his eyes subsiding until they were back to normal.

Eloise lay on the ground for a long moment, staring at him in shock. So that’s how he’d dug so deep on his own.

“I think that’s enough work for today,” he finally said, holding out his hand. “Let’s get out of here.”

Eloise looked at his outstretched hand and remained frozen to the spot. Her fingers ached to touch someone, to connect with another person, but she was afraid.

“You won’t hurt me,” he murmured. “You can’t.”

He knew. Eloise sat and shook her head, dust flying out of her hair. It seemed the time for pretences had passed.

“How can you be so sure?” she asked, her voice wavering.

He smiled. “Because you’re like me.”

“You’re what…?”

“Just take my hand.”

Taking a deep breath, she reached up and took Kyne’s hand…and for the first time in years, she felt another person’s skin press against her own.

Eloise and Kyne sat in the shade of the lean-to, drinking beer and looking out across the scrub.

She was numb and exhausted. The cave-in had rattled her in more ways than she could count. The beer helped, but she wasn’t getting much of a buzz from it.

Finally, she worked up the courage to start asking questions. “What are you?”

“I’m an elemental,” Kyne replied. “Well, half-human, half-elemental.” He sipped his beer, his fingers crinkling the aluminium.

Elemental. She’d never heard of one before. “What did you do down there?”

“I shaped rock.” He shrugged. “It has its limitations. I won’t be able to do that for a while now. Actually, I’m surprised I was able to do it at all.”

“Now you tell me,” she muttered.

“I wanted to see how you reacted to the opal before I said anything,” he admitted. “But I didn’t count on that happening.”

“Your mine caved in on our heads!” Eloise turned and glared, shaking her shirt. “I’m still wearing half of it!”

He wiped his sweaty brow, smearing dirt. “I didn’t want to put you in any danger. I wanted to… It was to help you, but not like that.”

“Help me what? Discover what I am by dumping a slab of rock on my head?” She threw her hands into the air, spilling some of her beer.

“You’re an elemental, Eloise. I know it. I can see it.”

“How can you be sure what I am? I’ve never done what you just did. My eyes don’t glow.”

“It wasn’t me who stopped that rock from crushing us. I got us out, but it was you who gave us a chance.”

Her expression fell.

“That’s not all. You have no knowledge of your birth parents, you’re solitary, you sense things, you’re exceptionally talented with opal, you don’t like to be touched.” He rattled off a list of traits like he’d been compiling a dossier on her.

“How do you know all of this?” she demanded.

“Wally suspected you were supernatural when you first met him,” Kyne admitted. “He wasn’t sure, so Vera tried to get a vision from you. You wouldn’t let her touch you, so Hardy—”

“What?” She blinked. “You’ve been watching me?”

“Erm…” Kyne lifted his hat and scratched his head. “Solace is another story. We had to be sure before we said anything.”

“Sure of what?”

“Your intentions.”

“I have no intentions. I just want to be left alone.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Really?”

Eloise downed the last of her beer and tossed the can into the esky. “I’ve been searching my whole life trying to explain the things I can do and found nothing. Why now?”

Kyne shrugged. “Maybe you just came close enough to Solace to be attracted to it. It was the same with all of us. The concentration of supernaturals is like a beacon…or at least, that’s what we think.”

“Is that how you came to be here?”

“I suppose so.” He rested his forearms on his knees and squinted towards the horizon. “I wandered from city to town, job to job. Never staying anywhere long enough to settle. I couldn’t. I was always restless.”

She looked him over. “Was?”

“It comes and goes.”

“And the others? What are they?”

Kyne didn’t hesitate. “Wally is a werewolf. Vera’s a witch. Drew is a shapeshifter. Finn’s a fae. There’s a fae camp out in the scrub where they live. ‘Bout six of them.”

So many. “Blue?”

“Human.”

“What about Coen?”

“Coen is special…even amongst us,” he replied. “He’s something like a medium, but I doubt anyone could explain his abilities as being any one gift.”

“Hardy?”

“Vampire.”

Eloise sucked in a sharp breath and ran her fingers through her gritty hair. She wasn’t surprised, even though until now all these creatures had been purely fiction. Magic had touched her, so why not others?

“And I’m like you,” she murmured. “Elemental.” She still didn’t know what it meant. There was no legend to go along with what she was.

“We call ourselves Exiles. Some of us are lost and others are outcasts.”

Outcasts… It was a fitting description of what she’d become.

Kyne shifted next to her. “You’re afraid to touch people. Why?”

She said nothing. Flexing her fingers, she picked at the graze on the side of her hand.

“You’ve hurt people before? By accident?”

“Why do you think I’m alone?” she hissed.

Kyne was silent for a while, his brow creased. He seemed to have his own problems, but who didn’t?

“You’re not alone, Eloise,” he told her. “Not anymore. I…” his jaw tightened, “I can help you.”

“I don’t even understand what an elemental is.”

“Being an elemental is to be with nature,” he explained. “Knowing the five elements—earth, air, fire, water, ether—and how to manipulate them.”

“What’s ether?”

“Ether is something like spirit. It’s the fabric of the universe that binds everything together.”

Her breath caught and she lowered her gaze. “Is that… Is that why I do things to people when I touch them?” The mind erasure, the changes in perception…was this ether at work?

“I think so.”

“And you’re immune because you’re like me?” She said it more to steady her swirling thoughts than for clarification.

“My talents lie with the element of earth,” he went on, “I can manipulate the others, but only on rudimentary levels so I don’t usually bother.” It explained why he was such a good miner. Hardy had mentioned Kyne brought in the best opal.

“So I have a talent with one element, too?”

He nodded.

“Can you tell what it is?”

“No. It’ll take some trial and error before we can figure it out.”

“How?” Eloise doubted it was like having lightning bolts fire out of her fingertips or glowing balls of magic from in her palms.

“Instinct.”

A part of her wanted to believe everything he was saying, but another was skeptical. She’d been in Solace for a handful of days and had known Kyne for less than one. What did he know about her? It was too easy.

She looked at him through narrowed eyes. “You said we’re half-elemental.”

“Elementals like us have one human parent and one full-blooded elemental parent. We’re cast out at birth, left to fend for ourselves.”

“We’re abandoned? Why?”

Kyne shrugged, unable to meet her gaze. “Elementals aren’t human. They don’t have the same emotions humans do. Life has different meaning.”

“Why have children with humans then?”

Kyne coughed and drank some more beer.

“So, it’s a perverted fantasy?” she asked. “Like in Greek mythology? Gods sticking their bits wherever they wanted, setting up demi-god franchises all over the Mediterranean?”

Kyne snorted. “Something like that.”

He didn’t know much more about his origins than she did. They were both orphans to a creature who saw them as an unwanted side-effect of a human tryst. Like a scratch they couldn’t itch, the elementals wanted to dabble in their sexuality, damn the consequences.

“It makes me so mad,” she said, gritting her teeth. “They just threw us away like rubbish.”

Kyne tossed his empty beer can into the esky. “At least we lived long enough to grow up.”

Eloise rose to her feet and ran her hands over her face. “I need to be alone for a while.” She snatched up her new hat and slapped it on her head.

“Don’t go too far,” he warned. “It’s easy to get turned around out here.”

All she could do was grunt as she strode off into the outback, her heart and mind overwhelmed.

Eloise walked out into the scrub, keeping the camp and the mine at her back.

Solace was full of supernatural beings. She’d survived a cave-in that should’ve killed them because Kyne was an elemental.

She was an elemental.

Technically they were half-elementals, but there were none around to correct them. Abandoned. Unwanted.

Make paths by walking. Coen’s words came back to her and she snorted. She’d been walking all right.

Were these the answers she was looking for? Kyne had no reason to lie. She had nothing for him to con out of her except her van, and even that was currently broken. It wasn’t like he could fake what he’d done underground, but she didn’t quite believe him about her being the one who stopped the rock from crushing them, either. It was a lucky miss. A pocket of air stuck beside another solid bit of stone. They’d just fell into it, that was all.

Wasn’t it?

She sat underneath the shade of a scrappy tree, the earth warm. Burying her fingers into the dirt, she closed her eyes and listened. She heard the wind rustling the plants around her and her heartbeat, but nothing else.

Picking up a handful rocks and grit, she squeezed her fingers around it, willing it to melt together…but when she opened her hand, they just tumbled back to the ground, the same as they were before.

Kyne had the answers she’d spent years looking for, so she went back. It wasn’t like she could walk all the way to Solace.

He was cooking over the campfire when she approached. A cast-iron frying pan full of chopped vegetables and several fat sausages sat in the coals. The contents sizzled as they cooked, emitting an aroma that had her stomach rumbling.

He’d also set up the tent.

“I hope you’re not vegetarian,” he said, flipping the sausages.

“No.”

“Good. I’d hate to waste a good sausage.”

He sat back in his camp chair and nodded towards one he’d set up for her. The esky sat between them, and as she flopped down in the chair, she reached for some water, leaving the beer for another time.

“I was sixteen when I first realised I was different,” she told him. “I’d touch people and they’d change. They’d either hate me or forget I even existed. I skipped school and forged notes from my parents to get out of sports. I went from popular to the most hated kid in a matter of weeks.” She lowered her gaze and stared into the fire. “I locked myself in my room and wouldn’t talk to anyone, not even my parents. One night they forced me out of my room and demanded I talk to them. It… There was an argument…a really bad one.” Her throat tightened. “I touched them and… I’ll never forget the look in their eyes, just pure hatred.”

“I’m sorry,” Kyne murmured.

“How could I explain it to them?” she went on. “They would never have understood. I couldn’t even understand it.”

“Ether,” he said. “That’s what did it.”

Eloise snorted. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“Of course, it matters.”

“It was ten years ago. I left that night. I packed a bag and climbed out my bedroom window and never went back. I’m a coward.”

“You’re not,” he told her. “You were a kid, Eloise. A frightened kid on her own with no way of knowing what you’d done.”

She wiped at her tears. In some ways, she still felt like her sixteen-year-old self, sleeping rough on her first night as a homeless teen. “I’ve never been able to touch anyone in all that time. There have been accidents and times I’ve had to defend myself, but it always ended the same way.”

“Until now.”

She snorted. “Yeah. Until now.”

They sat in silence for a long time. They ate dinner, drank another beer a piece, and listened to the nocturnal sounds of the outback.

Eloise looked up at the stars, the last of the sun smearing the horizon a deep blackish purple. Vera was right. It was a simple life.

“Kyne?”

“Hmm?” He lifted his hat off his face and raised an eyebrow.

“Will you teach me how to use my powers?”

“You want to go down in the mine again?”

“No way in hell,” she retorted. “I think I’ll stick to polishing.”

“I don’t blame you.” He chuckled and settled back in his chair. “I’ll teach you what I know, but I can’t make any promises.”

Eloise nodded. It was as good as she was going to get.

Chapter 9

Kyne drove Eloise back into Solace the next morning.

There wasn’t much for them to say, not after the day before. He’d told her most of what he knew, and the bits he didn’t were for her own good. She was on the verge of discovering her powers and all the good things they could do. Kyne wasn’t about to ruin her already hard life.

This whole mess was a set up. Taking Eloise out to his mine, the crack in the ceiling, his powers resurfacing. It’d taken a while to realise it, but Hardy and Coen seemed to be in cahoots with one another, even if they didn’t plan on it. Two birds, one stone.

He pulled his ute into the driveway next to Wally’s garage and killed the engine.

“So…” She squirmed, her gaze shifting awkwardly.

“I have to get that opal out,” he told her. “But I’ll be back.”

Her lips thinned, but she said nothing. She believed she wasn’t good with people, but when she forgot about herself, she opened right up.

“I’ll pay you back,” she said, “for the boots and hat.”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s the least I could do after my mine caved in on your head.”

“Kyne, I…” She wrung her hands together. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

She seemed stuck to the seat and he regarded her for a moment, trying to make out her tells. Her anxiety was making her power pulse. It was just a little flutter, but now that he was aware of what she was, it was unmistakable.

“I need to have a word with Hardy,” he told her, unclipping his seatbelt. “I’ll let him know what happened.”

This seemed to get her moving. She undid her seatbelt and hopped out of the ute. He climbed out and slammed the door shut.

Taking her backpack out of the tray, Eloise smiled and took a step back. “Thanks for the lift.”

“Any time.” Surprisingly, he actually meant it.

Kyne lingered, watching as she unlocked her van and slid open the side door. Another elemental, huh? There weren’t that many of them around, at least those who knew what they really were.

Sighing, he went across the road to Hardy’s shop. The door was locked, so he went to the Outpost.

Hardy and Vera were talking at the front counter when he walked in. He noticed Drew was nowhere to be seen, but that wasn’t anything new. That kid’s head wasn’t straight at the best of times.

Vera peered at him as the door slammed shut. “He’s smiling…on the inside.”

“How can you tell?” Hardy asked.

She rolled her eyes. “Magic, duh.”

“You’re back early,” Hardy said to Kyne.

“There was a problem with the mine,” he replied. “It, uh… It caved in on us.”

“What?” Vera exclaimed.

“Don’t,” Kyne warned, not in the mood for her attitude. “It’s fine. No one got hurt.”

Hardy grinned. “Your power came back.”

“And not a moment too soon.” He narrowed his eyes at the vampire. “Your little plan worked, old timer.”

He smirked. “Who said I had a plan?”

“Who put that crack in the ceiling?”

“You did in your desperation for opal.”

Kyne opened his mouth to argue, but Vera sighed and twirled a lock of red hair around her finger.

“So?” she asked. “We’re waiting for the answer to the million-dollar question.”

“You were right,” Kyne said to Hardy, much to the witch’s annoyance. “She’s an elemental.”

“And?”

“She’s not a threat,” he added, “just lost.” It wasn’t his place to tell them her story. That was private and personal…and had taken a great deal of courage for her to confide in him. He wouldn’t betray it, no matter how salty he felt about his own tale. Trust was precious to her.

“Did you tell her about the seal?” Vera asked.

Kyne shook his head. “No. There was a lot to explain and until we know if she’s staying or leaving, it’s best not to.”

Hardy nodded. “I agree.”

Vera held up her hands. “So, I reckon now is the time to tell you Drew and I broke into her motorhome.” Kyne and Hardy turned to glare at her. “Don’t look at me like that. You were sulking,” she said to Kyne before she pointed at Hardy, “and you were busy polishing your precious black opal.”

“I was working with Eloise, just so you know,” Hardy drawled.

“Anyway, I was being proactive,” Vera continued with a pout. “I wanted to get a vision.”

Kyne sighed. It was too late to chastise her now. “And?”

“She’s got a journal,” the witch began, but clicked her tongue when the boys glared at her again. “I didn’t read it. I just touched the cover, and low and behold, a vision!” She waved her hand across the top of the counter. “A black mountain made out of volcanic rock, a figure reaching towards her, and three knocks in the darkness.”

Hardy frowned. “A black mountain?”

“It makes no sense, but it has some meaning to her. Maybe that’s where her elemental parent came from.”

Kyne shook his head. It could mean anything. In time, maybe they’d figure it out.

“She’s…” Kyne frowned, his gaze moving to the window. Eloise’s van was hidden from view, but he imagined he could sense her presence.

“So, if she’s an elemental who doesn’t like touching people, then I’m assuming she has a talent with ether,” Vera declared, satisfied she’d gotten away with breaking and entering. “You know what this means, right?”

Hardy sucked in a sharp breath. “Altering the fabric of the universe is a dangerous gift.”

“All the more reason she should stay,” Kyne said.

Vera smirked at him, her gaze raking over his body. “But will she?”

“This isn’t a romance waiting to happen,” he snapped. “It’s not about that. There’s plenty of witches in this world, but very few elementals.”

“Unfortunately, vampires tend to spread like locusts when they get lonely,” Hardy drawled. “Luckily for me, I have Solace.”

“No matter what Eloise is or isn’t, she needs to learn how to control her powers,” Kyne told them. “Small accidents are one thing, but pent-up energy this close to the seal…? I’m worried what might happen to it.”

“Does this mean you’re checking back in?” Vera asked.

“I don’t know what it means.”

At that moment, a road train rumbled past, all three trailers shining as they flashed by. They rarely stopped, their final destinations much farther north than their little border town. Maybe it was an omen, or maybe it was just that time of day on a truckie’s regular run.

“I’ll watch out for her,” Hardy said, once the sound of the truck had faded.

Kyne clapped him on the shoulder. “I’ll be back once I’ve got that black. I hope your bank account is overflowing, mate.”

“Yeah, ready for a fleecing.” The vampire chuckled. “Shouldn’t take long now, eh?”

He shook his head, catching a wicked glint in Vera’s eye. “No,” he said, “it won’t.”

Leaning over the tiny shower in her motorhome, Eloise washed the last of the conditioner out of her hair and threw a towel over her head. The bucket she’d used to rinse out her mousey locks was full of grit from Kyne’s mine. The rest of the soap had drained down into her grey tank, where it would fester until she could empty it out on some poor patch of bush out in the scrub.

Sitting on the stool, she looked out her open door at the fading light.

Kyne had stuck around for an hour after he had left her—presumably with Hardy to fill him in on the gossip—before getting in his ute and driving off hell for leather without so much as a see you later.

She tried not to read too much into it. They might both be elementals, but they didn’t know one another, no matter what she’d confided in him.

Sighing, she squeezed as much water out of her hair as she could, then hung her towel over a tree branch to dry.

Making herself a cup of tea, she sat on the step of her van and scribbled in her journal. Underneath the doodle of the mountain, she wrote several words. Elemental, earth, ether… She went over and over them with her pen as she thought about what had happened in Black Hole Mine.

The money she’d lost by not helping Kyne dig out all that opal was a kick in the guts, but she was glad she wasn’t going down there again. She was still broke, but at least she had some answers.

Answers that just led to more questions. Not just about herself, but of the myriad of people who called this place home. Vampire, werewolf, witch, fae, shapeshifter…

She looked up as the sound of Wally shutting his garage echoed across the lonely outback. He was probably going to the pub for lunch—a place she hadn’t been since she’d run out of there her first day.

Looking at her journal and at the stray spots of black loose leaf tea in the bottom of her cup, Eloise decided it was past time she grew a pair of lady balls and face her social anxiety with the same tenacity Kyne had used to face his lack of power.

Solace was a different place now. It wasn’t just a sleepy outback town on the edge of forever; it was a safe haven for supernaturals with no other place to go. Supernaturals like her.

She wrote one last word in her journal—supernatural—before snapping it closed, then made her way towards the pub.

As she crossed the road, the same sensation she’d felt the first night vibrated up her legs. Pausing in the middle of the highway, she looked up and down, but nothing moved except a few wisps of clouds in the sapphire sky. No trucks, cars, or caravans in sight.

She shook her head, putting it into the too hard basket, and went over to the pub.

Blue was behind the bar when she walked in.

“Hey,” Eloise said. “About the other night—”

“Don’t mention it, love,” the publican told her. “So, you figured out our little town, eh?”

“Kyne told me.”

Blue raised his eyebrows. “Kyne, hey? Well, there you go.”

“Am I supposed to know what that means?”

He leaned against the bar. “Kyne was Solace’s informal leader until recently. He went off somewhere a few months ago, but when he got back, he was different. Angry.”

Eloise’s brow furrowed as she recalled Kyne saying he was surprised his powers worked. Not something she’d wanted to hear while they were trapped underneath a slab of rock, but now it made more sense.

“His powers were gone, weren’t they?” she asked.

Blue nodded. “It seems like it.”

“Well, it seems they’re back,” Vera declared, sitting beside her. “So, you know all about us now.”

Eloise jumped—she hadn’t heard the witch come in. “I doubt I know all about you. Far from it.”

“Kyne can get vocal…if you know what I mean.”

Eloise screwed up her nose. “If this is about you liking him, then you can have him.”

Vera burst into laughter. “Hell no. You can have that grumpy bastard all to yourself. I just like to rile him up. Quality entertainment is lacking out here.”

“I don’t want to step on anyone’s toes. I’ve got enough problems.”

The witch smiled. “Didn’t I say that Solace likes to help its own. Isn’t that right, Blue?”

The publican nodded. “Sure is.”

“But I’m not, am I?” Eloise asked. “I mean, I’m just here until Wally fixes my van.”

Vera peered at her, her emerald eyes blazing. “Are you?”

“Uh…I guess?”

“What can I get you?” Blue asked, saving her from more of the witch’s probing. “Beer? You didn’t get to finish your welcome drink the other night. Let me make it up to you.”

Eloise shrugged and sat at one of the tables. “Thanks.”

“Beer is just about the only thing you serve,” Vera said. “If there’s another option, I’ve never been offered it.”

Blue looked at Eloise, but she shook her head. “Beer is fine.”

The door opened and Wally came in.

“Oh, Eloise, there you are.” He sat across from her. “I’ve got that part for your van on order. Should be here soon.” His gaze shifted to Vera before retuning to her. “Hardy said you were out with Kyne working in his mine.”

“I was…” she replied, “until the thing caved in on our heads.”

The mechanic paled and stumbled over his words. “O-on t-top of y-you?”

“She knows, Wally,” Vera told him with a sigh.

“Kyne got us out,” Eloise said.

Wally coughed. “So, his powers came back?”

Blue snorted from behind the bar. “Damn mess if they didn’t.”

Eloise sighed and shook her head. It would’ve been nice to know before they’d gotten trapped, but she was beginning to understand why they’d held back. The true identity of Solace’s residents needed to be kept a secret at all costs…even from their own kind.

Wally looked at Eloise and grimaced. “I thought you were special, but there ain’t no easy way to bring it up.”

“Don’t worry about it,” she said. “I understand.”

Vera leaned over and grinned. “She’s an elemental.”

Eloise flushed as Blue set her beer on the table, all the extra attention making her uncomfortable. “Yeah, well, I still don’t know what it means.”

“You will soon enough,” Vera added. “Once Kyne gets over his opal fixation.” She turned back to the bar, leaving Eloise and Wally to talk.

“Kyne said you’re a werewolf.” She felt silly saying it, but Wally didn’t bat an eyelid.

“Yeah, I change into a big hairy wolf every full moon. It ain’t anything glorious.”

“I didn’t think… Well, I never knew things like that existed.”

“There were a lot of things I hadn’t seen until I came here, too.”

“How did you? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“I don’t mind.” He waved a grease-stained hand. “Been in Solace for nigh on thirty years. I was one of the first of the Exiles. Back then, Solace was barely a pimple on the arse crack of the outback. It was settled in the early days of the gold rush in the 1850s, but when they found opal instead, it became quite the hotspot.”

“What happened?”

“Opal mining is tough business,” he explained. “People left because it was so difficult and costly to find, and only the hardest of men saw it through. There’s an old cemetery up the road a ways, full of young men who died trying to find their fortunes. Solace has been just as empty ever since. When I found it, there was only the garage, the pub, and a few rundown buildings. A place for the miners to rest and refuel. Blue was here then, but there wasn’t much else. We began to rebuild this place together and soon, more people came.”

“Did Blue know what you were then?” Eloise wondered.

“Not until he began to notice I disappeared once a month…on a particular day.” He shook his head. “But that’s a story for another time.”

“Can I ask…what about your pack? Is there such a thing for werewolves?”

“Oh yeah,” Wally told her, “there sure is, but I’m a lone wolf these days. You’ve seen those Dust Dogs and they’re bad enough, but wolves are capable of much worse.”

There was yet another story there, but it wasn’t her place to ask.

“What’s the difference?”

“The Dust Dogs are shapeshifters. They’re bound to their forms, and they’re born like it, but can turn anytime. Werewolves can only turn on a full moon and are made, not born.”

She swallowed hard. “Made?”

“I best not tell you how. No offence.”

“None taken.” She was glad because her imagination was already running wild. “So…you like it here?”

“Oh yeah, I sure do. I’ve got everything invested in my garage. It gives me everything I need. Safety, security, and I don’t have to hide who I am.” He winked at her. “Well, mostly.”

As Eloise opened her mouth to ask another question, the pub door was shoved open so hard it slammed against the wall.

Finn came storming in, his grey eyes wild with anger. “Where is he?”

“Where’s who?” Vera asked, turning around on her barstool. “You need to be more specific.”

“Drew,” Finn raged. “That little shit needs his throat squeezed.”

“I think the word you’re looking for is ‘throttled’,” Blue mused, continuing to wipe down the bar.

Vera sighed and pressed her hands over her face. “What has he done now?”

Finn jabbed a finger at his temple. “He smashed me on the head with a shovel and left me to fry.”

“Why would he hit you with a shovel?” Wally asked.

“This isn’t my fault, old man,” the fae exclaimed. “The dog was out on my land burying stolen property.” His gaze fell onto Eloise and her heart skipped a beat. “What is she doing here?”

“Hey now,” Blue said, walking around the bar. Compared to the fae, he was a wall of muscle, not to mention significantly taller. “Eloise is one of us. Kyne and Hardy vouch for her.”

Finn glared at Eloise, his eyes blazing with magic. “They better.”

Eloise knew better than to bite back, so she pursed her lips and kept her mouth shut.

“I haven’t seen Drew all day,” Vera said, pulling his attention away from her. “He didn’t turn up for his shift, so that makes two of us who want to choke the life out of him.”

“You tell him if the Dust Dogs come anywhere near my camp, I won’t hesitate. I will fry his arse.”

Eloise watched the tense exchange, her senses crackling. Finn’s wasn’t the only magic she felt in the air—the other source had to be Vera.

“I don’t doubt it,” the witch drawled. “I’m working on a hex as we speak. I just have to find something that rhymes with orange.”

“Nothing rhymes with orange!” Finn exclaimed. “I’m done with you people! Done!” He threw his hands into the air and stormed out of the pub. Vera certainly had a way with words…and quite the aim with potatoes.

Blue snorted and hit play on the ancient CD player at the end of the bar. The opening chords of the Aussie classic ‘The Horses’ by Darryl Braithwaite began to soothe the chaos out of the air.

“What was that all about?” Eloise wondered.

“Politics,” Vera muttered. “The fae are a spirited lot.”

“The Dust Dog that was in your shop said Drew took something that was theirs,” she added. “Now Finn catches him burying something in the middle of nowhere…?”

“It ain’t no coincidence,” Wally said.

“That boy has some serious explaining to do,” Blue agreed.

“Forgive me for what I’m about to say,” Vera began, staring at Eloise, “but I’m not sure you have a say in what goes on around here. You’re just passing through, and we’re here for the long haul. Explanations are thin on the ground for the temporary.”

Eloise took the blow, determined not to let her confidence be dented. “Maybe not, but while I’m here I don’t intend to become another target, especially after they pegged me as different.”

Vera raised her eyebrows. “How do you figure that?”

“How do you think I got that guy to back down?”

The witch tilted her head to the side. “I thought you didn’t know how to use your powers?”

Eloise shrugged. “Men like them only respond to threats they know can actually be carried out.” She leaned back in her chair. “When you tell a shapeshifter three times your size that you can give him a lobotomy with one touch, they tend to listen.”

“Nowhere else in the world,” Blue muttered.

“Well, well, well,” Vera murmured, grinning wickedly at her. “Looks like our newest Exile has found her voice underneath all that mousiness.”

Eloise regarded them—the human, witch, and werewolf—and wondered how much Kyne had told them before he’d scurried off to his mine.

“Oh, don’t look at us like that,” Vera declared. “Kyne’s a gentleman underneath all that gruffness. It’s obvious he wasn’t telling us the whole story.” She held up her hand and wiggled her fingers, her rings glinting in the light. “Though I would like to get that vision when you’ve learned how to stop frying people’s prefrontal cortexes.”

“I think that’s enough debate for one day,” Blue stated. “I’m about to set the menu for tonight’s dinner. Any requests?”

Thankful for the distraction, Eloise put up her hand. “Any chance of some chicken parmigiana?”

“Shit yeah!” Blue grinned and clapped his big hands together. “Parma is my specialty!”

Wally chuckled. “You’re going to fit in just fine here, darlin’. Just fine.”

Chapter 10

Despite a long night at the pub, Eloise woke with the rising sun. It shone through the cracks in her curtains, dusting the inside of her van with a burnt orange glow.

Solace was looking different with each passing moment. It was quiet, but it didn’t seem so sleepy anymore.

Wally and Blue had regaled her with stories about their early days in the town last night. How they’d rebuilt the garage, renovated the pub, and set to reopening the general store. It hadn’t really taken off until Hardy arrived and opened his opal business. Then Vera bought the general store, renamed it the Outpost, and the group of Exiles began to grow and thrive.

Finn and the fae had turned up sometime within all of that, and Kyne had been around at least ten years. The Dust Dogs had always been a menace, but their compound had been far enough away that they didn’t bother coming to Solace—at least, not until Drew came, who was the arrival before Eloise.

Coen was an anomaly. No one seemed to know when he’d begun visiting, just that he had.

Eloise was dressed, her bare toes curled in the dirt, and a cup of tea in her hands, when Vera appeared in the yard. She sat on the step of her van—her favourite spot—and was surveying the sunburnt colours of the outback.

“So, this is the infamous motorhome,” the witch said, poking her head in the door. “Cool.”

“I’m sure you’ve seen it before,” Eloise said.

“Uh, n-no,” Vera spluttered, giving away that she had, but just how much, Eloise wasn’t sure. “Can I come in and check it out?”

“Sure. There isn’t much to it.”

The witch stepped up into the van and looked around, sticking her head into the driver’s cabin and opening the fridge. “Pokey, isn’t it?”

“It has everything a person needs,” she replied then stood and put her empty mug into the sink. “Besides, life is about out there.” She nodded outside. “As long as I’ve got somewhere to sleep and cook, it’s all good.”

“You sound like Kyne,” Vera drawled, picking up the hat he’d bought Eloise.

“Do I?” She felt her cheeks pink and busied herself with her boots so she could hide it.

“That man doesn’t even have a house, not even a dugout. Crashes at Hardy’s when he’s in town, which is like never. Lives in a tent and washes in a dirty creek.”

It sounded freeing to Eloise, but she said nothing. No wonder he and Vera had never hit it off.

“What do you do for power?” the witch asked.

“Five-hundred-watt solar panels on the roof. I can hook up to shore power if I want, but I don’t use much anyway. Driving charges the battery, too.”

“Water?”

“I’ve got a one hundred litre tank and eighty litre grey water storage.”

“Cooking?”

“Gas bottle.”

“Hot water?”

“Hooked up to the gas.”

Vera snorted and ran her fingers over the compact kitchen bench. “You really do have everything you need.” She clicked her fingers. “Toilet.”

“In there with the shower. Emergencies only.” Eloise shrugged. “I find there’s a dunny pretty much everywhere you go.”

“Well, thank goodness for that. Even ladies have gotta sh—”

Eloise coughed. “So, what brings you over to the west side of the highway?”

“The west side… I like that.” She smirked. “After last night, I thought I’d come and see what I could do to help.”

Eloise blinked. “With what?”

Vera laughed and waved at Eloise. “Your magic, of course.”

She stepped aside and the witch leapt out of the van. “You know about elementals?”

“A bit,” she admitted. “At least, enough to get you started.” She put her hand on her hips and snorted. “I can’t believe Kyne dropped all that on you and went back out to that bloody hole of his. He should be here teaching you, not scratching around for a bit of fancy rock.”

It wasn’t just fancy rock, but Eloise didn’t think it was a good idea to argue the point when Vera was on a tear about something. She was just as fiery as the colour of her hair.

“He said he was coming back,” she said instead.

“If there’s one thing you need to know about miners, is that if they’ve got even the tiniest whiff of a trace, they won’t raise their heads until they chase it to the end.”

Eloise’s heart sank. “So, don’t expect him any time soon?”

“I’m not, that’s why I’m here to help.”

“Help with my…magic?” It still felt silly saying it. Magic. Eloise had magic. Elemental magic. She wondered how many times she could say the word before it lost all meaning.

Vera laughed. “Duh!”

She blinked. “But…you’re a witch?” Whatever that meant.

“I might not be an elemental, but magic works the same no matter who wields it. It all connects to nature, and nature rules us all.”

“What can you do?” Eloise asked, wondering if all those stories about cauldrons, hexes, and flying broomsticks were true.

“Witches do a little bit of everything,” Vera replied. “Unlike you, I was not born with a preset specialty. I can choose what kind of magic I want to practice and how I want to manifest it. Potions, spells, instinct. Even flashy stuff like this.” She held up her hand and waved it around. Eloise stared in shock as a purple mist began to form around Vera’s fingers. As the witch moved, the colour ebbed and flowed, creating a sparkling whirlpool. “But that’s all for show. Real magic doesn’t need fireworks…or broomsticks.”

She thought about the vanilla spray Vera had given her and frowned. “Potions?”

“Any fool can mix herbs together,” she said, closing her fingers around the purple magic cloud, “but only a witch can add her magic to make them work.”

“But how do you get, uh…ingredients?”

“I’m making a study of Australian plants and animals,” she replied proudly. “So far, I’ve found a great deal of useful ingredients, some even better than the originals! Got it all written down in my grimoire. One day I hope to give it to my daughter to pass onto hers, but that’s neither here nor there.”

“You have a daughter?”

“Oh, hell no,” Vera said with a wave of her hand. “Gotta have a dick in my life for that. It’s biology, you know.”

Eloise finally cracked and started laughing.

Vera shook her head and grinned. “She does know how to have a good time. Fancy that.”

Once Eloise locked her van, they walked across the road together. If Vera felt the vibrations underneath the asphalt, she said nothing, and Eloise wasn’t about to ask. The witch might understand, but she was still new here. She might know about the supernatural Exiles now, but it didn’t mean she was one of them.

In the Outpost, Vera turned on the lights. The fluorescent tubes flickered before they settled, the cool white light illuminating the shelves of groceries and oddments.

“Shouldn’t we go outside?” Eloise asked.

“Probably, but there’s no one to look after the till,” Vera replied. “On days like this, I wish Drew wasn’t such a screw up.”

On the mention of the dingo shifter’s name, Eloise glanced to where the witch had flung the potatoes at him. There were no marks on the wall, but the memory was still fresh.

“How do a bunch of white dudes come to be dingo shapeshifters?” Eloise asked. “I mean, dingoes have been in this country for thousands of years, and white people less than three hundred.”

Vera shrugged. “Settlers came into contact with something they should’ve left alone.”

A chill ran down Eloise’s spine. “Like what?”

“Who knows? Drew doesn’t and I’m betting those cretins the Dust Dogs don’t, either. We’re talking about something that probably happened like one hundred and seventy years or so ago, so your guess is as good as mine. Indigenous people called Australia home for over forty thousand years before any of us came along. Who knows what else is hidden out there.”

“But aren’t you worried the Dust Dogs will come back?”

“Sure, but now you’re all clued up, so I won’t play nice next time. The damn dingo fence is supposed to keep them out, but no one can stop a man or woman from climbing the thing, no matter the magic on it.”

Now she was just talking in riddles. “Dingo fence? What’s that?”

“It’s a pest-exclusion fence, like the one they built for rabbits,” Vera explained. “It’s over five and a half thousand kilometres long, if you can believe it. There’s a section about a hundred kilometres north from here. I guess all those white dudes didn’t like dingo packs rustling their sheep. The magic was put there afterwards to stop the shifter packs from moving south.”

“There’s more than one pack?”

“Used to be, now they’re all fractured…or as far as I could make out from Drew’s rambling.” Vera shook her head and gestured to the floor in front of the refrigerators. “C’mon. Enough about that. Let’s get to work.” The witch sat cross-legged on the linoleum floor.

“You want me to sit on the floor?”

“If you hadn’t noticed, it’s hotter than hell outside. This is the best place to be.”

Eloise shrugged and sat beside Vera. Immediately, she felt the radiating cold from the glass-fronted fridges at her back and sighed. Bliss.

“Magic is about focus,” Vera told her. “You know yourself best. The sound of your heartbeat, the air passing in and out of your lungs, the way you swallow your spit.”

Eloise opened her eyes. “My spit?”

“Shh,” Vera said. “Close your eyes and focus. It’s all about centring yourself.”

“Like meditation?”

“Exactly! If you can find your inner peace and control what you find there, then you will have power over your mind. It’s the thing that’s been giving you problems.”

It seemed like a sensible conclusion.

“Close your eyes…” the witch murmured. “Imagine yourself floating out of your body and into the sky. You’re soaring through the air, the wind brushing past, the sun hot on your back.”

Eloise imagined herself in the air, the outback far below, scrub and scrappy trees as far as the eye could see. Red earth, sapphire sky. Her breathing calmed and the real world began to slip away.

“You have power within,” Vera murmured. “A ball of light that will guide you where you need to be.”

Eloise didn’t know how long they were there before she sighed and opened her eyes. At least a good forty-five minutes. Her mind was full of everything but a ball of light. Rocks… Rocks from Kyne’s mine. His hand in hers. His arms around her. His skin touching hers.

The last thing she wanted was an attachment to him—it’d be for all the wrong reasons.

“I don’t know if I’m feeling anything,” Eloise muttered. Her cheeks felt hot and she pressed the backs of her hands against her face.

“It takes practice,” Vera told her. “I can give you the tools, but you have to learn how to use them first.”

“Learn to crawl before trying to run.”

“You’ve got it! Finn will know more,” she said. “There are elementals where he comes from.”

“Where he comes from?”

“His world. Whatever they call it.”

Eloise’s mouth fell open. “Finn comes from another world?”

“Yeah,” she said with a shrug, “all fae do.”

Her mind was blown. “Kyne said there were a few of them living in a camp.”

“Yep. They’ve carved themselves out a little patch about a kilometre to the northeast. There’s something about Solace that makes it potent for them.”

“Potent?”

“Their magic thrives on natural places of power. There’s a ley line here.”

Eloise’s head was spinning even more than it had when she’d discovered Kyne was an earth-shifting elemental. Fae, parallel worlds, ley lines…the arcane plot just kept getting bigger the longer she was in Solace.

“Are there other places like this?” she asked, thinking of the black mountain in her dreams. “Places of power?”

“Oh sure!” Vera replied. “There’s tons of them.”

Eloise frowned, her mind working overtime as she tried to figure out how it all worked.

“I can see your concentration is shot.” Vera got up and went over to one of the fridges. “What do you like to drink? I’ve got juice, soft drinks, alcohol…”

“Oh no, it’s okay,” Eloise said.

“Eloise, seriously! Live a little! It’s on the house.”

“Okay then.” She stood and surveyed the selection, settling on a bottle of apple and blackcurrant juice. “Thanks.”

They sat on the floor together, drinking and talking, and for the first time since her powers had manifested, Eloise almost felt happy. But soon Wally would fix her van and then what? Everyone had already been so nice. Hardy had offered her a temporary job for a project that had zero profit attached to it, and there was no way she was going back into a mine any time soon. Vera didn’t need help, even with or without Drew. Wally wasn’t looking for an apprentice and neither was Blue. Even if she wanted to stay, there was no way she’d be able to provide for herself. Food did grow on trees, but they were all behind an impenetrable paywall.

Reality was, Solace was just another stop on the long road to nowhere.

“I’m not sure I can learn enough in two weeks,” Eloise mused, her heart heavy.

“No one can learn everything there is to know about magic in that short amount of time,” Vera told her. “Magic is a lifelong kind of thing. It’s not for us mortals to know all the secrets of the arcane universe. If Kyne was here, he could hold your hand and show you what you need to see. Put you on the starting block, so to speak. I can only guide you in the general direction.”

“So, keep meditating.”

“Keep meditating and your power will find you sooner or later.”

“I hope so,” she murmured. “I really hope so.”

Blue opened the back door of the pub, garbage bag in hand, and stopped dead in his tracks. Something big was rustling through the bins…again.

Sometimes it was a big brute of a goanna or a kangaroo. He’d even found an emu picking through the upturned contents once. Had to chase the bastard off with a broom.

But this time, it was none of those things.

Seeing Drew picking through the bin, he sighed and tossed the garbage bag down.

“Stop that,” he said, startling the shifter.

Drew jumped back, the lid of the bin slamming. He wiped his hands on his shirt and grimaced.

Blue looked him over. The kid needed a damn shower. “Come inside before you get a parasite.” He held the door open and glanced around, hoping Finn wasn’t lurking. The last thing either of them needed was a stoush out in the open.

Drew slunk through the door and into the kitchen, his grubby bare feet slapping on the tiles. Damn kid doesn’t even have any shoes.

“What are you doing out there, hey?” he asked. “The whole town is looking for you.”

“That’s a lie,” Drew replied. “Only Finn and Vera. And that’s because they think I owe ‘em something.”

That wasn’t far from the truth. A couple of apologies was a good place for him to start paying off his debts.

Blue looked him over. “When did you last eat?”

The shifter shrugged.

“How d’you like it? Well done? Stupid question, I only offer ‘em charcoaled.” Turning on the grill, Blue opened the fridge and took out a burger patty and some buns. “Life with that pack of yours wasn’t so glamorous, eh?”

Drew shook his head. “They’re more dingo than human. Sometimes I reckon they only turn human so they can ride their motorbikes.”

He slapped a beef patty onto the grill. “Why’d you fall in with them in the first place? You seem like a smart kid…a majority of the time.”

“It wasn’t what I was looking for,” Drew told the publican. “I was the runt of the litter, out on my own. I just wanted to belong, I guess.”

Blue flipped the burger patty, the meat sizzling on the grill. “Nothin’ wrong with wantin’ to be with your own kind, I suppose. But I’m guessing they aren’t the only pack of dingoes out there.”

“No.” Drew shook his head.

“What about your parents?”

“Dead. I was raised by my grandpa, but he’s gone, too.”

“I’m just showing my hide as an ignorant human here, but you have to be born a shifter, right?”

Drew nodded. “Yeah.”

“What about your family’s pack? I’m guessing they weren’t related to the Dust Dogs.”

“Nope.”

To hell with it. It was easier to get blood out of a stone than answers out of this kid. “So, where are they?”

“My parents were out on their own. When they died, it was just me and Grandpa.”

Blue had enough clues now to make his own conclusions. After his grandfather died, Drew must have wandered on his own until he’d drifted close enough to Solace to be drawn here like the others…except he’d found the Dust Dogs first. An outback kid with little schooling, freedom to roam, and a supernatural background hadn’t led to many prospects.

Whatever trouble he’d gotten into with those dingoes, it had him digging in the bin like a rat. Feeding the kid a burger was the least he could do to get things moving in the right direction.

“You want cheese on your burger? Tomato? Lettuce?” Blue turned to the fridge and took out plastic containers. “Bacon and egg… Hmm… I’ll make you one with the lot.”

Drew snorted and watched as Blue cracked an egg into a metal ring on the grill. “Why are you helping me?”

“Sometimes,” he slapped a slice of bacon next to the egg, “it’s just a burger.”

“It’s never just a burger.”

Blue sniffed and flipped the beef patty onto the toasted bun. Slapping on the other ingredients, he handed the plate to Drew. Maybe some food would loosen his lips, but probably not.

Drew slopped some tomato sauce onto the top of the burger, put the top bun on, then inhaled it like he hadn’t eaten in a week.

“Thanks, Blue,” he said through a mouthful.

“Good to see you still have some manners.”

“I don’t need talkin’ or advice.”

“Well, I’m going to give you an earful, no matter if you want it or not.”

Drew looked up at him. “Told ya… It’s never just a burger.”

“What do you think you’re doing going around hitting Finn with a shovel?”

“He poked his nose where it didn’t belong.” He went back to stuffing the burger into his mouth. “His manners suck.”

“Finn is out for your blood, mate,” Blue told him. “He won’t rest until you make it right with him.”

“I’m not interested.”

Blue frowned and crossed his arms over his chest. “It doesn’t matter. If you want to stay around here, then you better think of something.”

Drew kept his mouth shut, which was both good and bad. The kid had secrets, that was for sure. How old was he? In his twenties at least, but the way he was acting, Blue thought he could pass for a thirteen-year-old.

“If you keep going the way you are, you’ll wind up in a ditch and there’ll be nothing any of us can do for you.”

“Then I’ll end up in a ditch.” Drew shoved the last of the burger into his mouth. He’d polished off the whole thing quick smart.

“Where are your boots and clothes?” Blue asked.

He shrugged. “At Vera’s.”

Blue sighed. Kids. “Grow a pair and go get your stuff. If you won’t trust me, then trust Vera. She took you in when you were in trouble, and the only reason she’s angry with you is because you’re not telling her the truth. She’s more forgiving than you realise, mate.”

“Vera doesn’t want to see me. Women like it when you do what they tell you.”

“Except they never mean what they say.” He shook his head. The kid had a lot to learn about life. “She tells you to clear off, it means she wants you to come back…preferably grovelling.”

Drew said nothing. He just wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“This is the last time I’ll say it, kid, then it’s up to you.” Blue picked up the empty plate and dumped it into the sink. “Whatever you’re hiding, we’ll help you, but you’ve gotta come clean.”

Drew smirked and swept his arms wide. “I’ll take it under consideration.”

“Fair enough.” Blue sighed for what felt like the millionth time and screwed up his nose. “At least take a shower and put some shoes on.”

The shifter narrowed his eyes and stood. “Thanks for the burger, old timer, but I gotta fly.”

He pushed out the door and Blue followed, leaning against the doorjamb. The shifter scurried across the yard, heading for the scrub.

“Hey,” Blue called out, “watch yourself. There’s a full moon coming up.”

But Drew was already out of sight.

Damn kid. His head was thicker than a two-by-four.

Chapter 11

It was two days before Kyne dug out the last of the black opal.

Striding into Hardy’s shop, he dumped the overflowing parcel onto the counter as the vampire appeared out of thin air.

Kyne would never get used to his various enhancements. Most of the time, he spirited around this place like a ghost, but he was handy when someone needed something heavy lifted.

“You look like you’ve been pulled through a hedge backwards,” Hardy stated, looking him over.

“Hello to you, too,” Kyne grumbled.

“Finally got all that black, eh?” He picked up the parcel and peered at the rough opal through the clear plastic. “More than last time. Roof give you any trouble?”

Kyne rolled his eyes. “You should do stand-up comedy.”

“You know, I got an international buyer for some of that black you brought in the other day. Some good chunky pieces in it.”

“And chunky profit, I’m guessing.”

“Oh, you bet.” The vampire grinned and Kyne was glad he’d rarely seen the vampire’s fangs.

His gaze moved towards the workshop. Eloise had been on his mind since the moment he’d left her at her van the other day. Her story, her search, the way she instinctively used her abilities without even noticing. Everything.

“Vera has been in her ear,” Hardy murmured. The vampire hadn’t even raised his head to see what he was doing.

Kyne narrowed his eyes. “Of course she has.”

“You’re not worried?”

“Vera is many things, but evil isn’t one of them,” he replied. “Misguided at times maybe, but not evil. It’s about time she had some sensible female company.”

It was Hardy’s turn to raise his eyebrows. “That’s high praise coming from you.”

“We had a chance to talk. Eloise has had a rough go of it. She could be bitter and angry about it, but she’s not. All she seems to want is to understand.”

Hardy held up the parcel of opal. “Was this worth leaving her?”

“Yes and no,” he admitted. “After you buy that, I won’t have to go out for the rest of the season or even the next if I don’t want to.”

“Black Hole is dry?”

“Until I can get machinery out there to sink another shaft, then yeah. It’s done.”

Hardy grunted and looked at the parcel. “How much d’you want?”

“You’re not going to look at it?”

“We both know it’s all for show,” the vampire replied. “We go back a long way, mate. I know you’re not going to shaft me.”

“Well then…” He glanced at the door to the workshop.

“She’s there if you want to see her.”

Of course, she was. He could hear the rumble of the grinders.

“Two hundred,” Kyne snapped.

“One fifty.”

“Two hundred.”

“One seventy-five.”

“We do this every time and it always ends with me getting what I want,” Kyne told him. “Let’s cut to the chase, old man.”

“I ain’t old,” Hardy complained, “I’m perpetually twenty-nine.”

“Really? You look forty.”

The vampire made a face. “Times were tough in the olden days.”

“Thanks,” Kyne said. “I’ll check my account tomorrow.” He rounded the counter and strode into the workshop, not waiting for an answer or an invitation.

Eloise was bent over the array of grinding wheels, peering at a piece of opal. From here, Kyne couldn’t see the small stone in her fingers, but assumed she was working on potch as practice. She was so engrossed in what she was doing, that she hadn’t noticed him lingering across the room.

Hardy had stayed out front, which was nice of him, even though he could still hear everything they said if he wanted to. Vampires were annoying like that.

Her hair was tied back in a messy knot at the base of her long neck, her skin almond under the light. Kyne blinked and shook his head.

“Hey,” he finally said, walking over to her.

Eloise looked up and when her gaze met his, she bit her bottom lip.

He peered over her shoulder. “What you got there?”

“Just some potch,” she replied, holding it up.

“Can I see?”

She dropped the stone into his hand, keeping hers well away from his. Old habits died hard.

He felt the simmer of colour the moment the opal settled in his palm. Studying the cut, he shook his head. Hardy had missed a fleck when he’d given Eloise a parcel of black potch to cut. Had he known? Unlikely. There was only a tiny splinter of red and blue over one edge of the perfect oval, but it was colour all the same.

“Polish this and you’ve got yourself a nice little show piece,” he told her. “Did you know this was here?”

“The colour?” she asked. “I don’t know. I liked the raw shape of it.”

“Hmm,” he mused, turning the opal this way and that, “you’ve got a good eye.”

Eloise snorted and held out her hand.

“What?”

“It seems like cheating.”

Kyne shook his head. “It’s not an unnatural advantage. It’s who you are.”

She wiggled her fingers. “Can I have it back?”

He closed his hand around the opal. “You don’t seem happy.”

“I don’t know how to feel.”

“Why?”

She was quiet for a moment, then she murmured, “Why should I be good at it after everything I’ve done?”

Kyne frowned as the opal hummed against his skin. “You think you don’t deserve it?”

Eloise lowered her gaze. “Why should I?”

“We can’t define ourselves by our mistakes,” he told her.

He snatched up her hand before she could pull away. This time, he could feel her power as it reached out to grab him, but it fell short when it sensed who he was. The opal pressed between their palms and she looked up at him, her cheeks red as beetroot.

“Tonight,” he said. “You and me, okay?”

She nodded. “Sure.”

“I’ll come find you.”

After dinner that night, Eloise walked the length of Solace, exploring the hidden corners of the little outback town she hadn’t found yet.

Passing the water tower and windmill, she saw it was in disrepair. Rust had taken over the structure, leaving holes in the tank—it’d been a long time since it’d held water and the windmill blades had turned.

A tall stone obelisk rose out of the lengthening shadows beyond the tower, the monument proclaiming the date Solace was founded—1852. Past this was a small cemetery crammed full of the graves of settlers and miners alike.

Returning to the boab tree, Eloise looked up at it. There wasn’t much to see in a place like Solace, though the barren ground seemed to hold forgotten stories by the bucket full. How many mines lay hidden in the scrub was another mystery.

One thing Eloise had come to notice was how still the air was. She rarely felt a breeze, and when she did, it was hot like the inside of an oven, but the sunsets were a rainbow of burnt umber, midnight blue, purple, pink, red ochre, orange tango…and changed so quickly there were hues she didn’t have time to see, let alone contemplate.

The sound of boots made her turn, and her heart did a little flutter when she saw Kyne approach.

“Impressive, huh?” He looked up at the tree. “Biggest boab I ever saw.”

“Sure is.” She shivered and buried her hands into the sleeves of her shirt.

“Cold?”

“A little. The weather is so extreme here.”

“At night, the chill can sap the heat right out of you if you’re not careful, and it gets hot as hell in summer,” Kyne told her. “But when the rains come, it cools off the dry. Seeing a storm race across the outback hundreds of kilometres away is something else…not so much when it’s on top of you.”

Eloise imagined angry clouds gathered across the horizon, the sun lighting them a deep bluish-black against the impossible blue. Then the rumbling thunder and rain-streaked sky as they brought life to the otherwise dry, unforgiving outback.

“Careful,” Kyne said, bringing her back to the present. “I see you’ve got a vivid imagination.”

She blinked and looked up at the sky where clouds had begun to gather, blotting out the first stars of the night and streaking over the bright, full moon.

“Huh?” she muttered. “Did I…?”

“We can only manipulate what’s there,” he replied. “But yeah…you gathered them.”

“I didn’t even realise…” Her cheeks heated and she was glad it was almost dark. “Is it really that easy?”

“Being an elemental is all instinct. Half of the battle is understanding the difference between a simple thought and what you did just there.”

“You make it sound so easy.” Eloise stared up at the moon and shivered. It was big and silver, a perfect sphere. “I— Wait.” She pointed to the sky. “The moon. Wally…”

“Don’t worry,” Kyne said. “Wally locks himself up in an old, reinforced mine.” He pointed back towards the garage. “It’s hidden out in the scrub.”

“But—”

“He’s been a werewolf most of his life, Eloise,” he interrupted. “He’s never gotten out in all the years I’ve been mining out here. Besides, have you ever seen a canine climb a vertical ladder?”

Thinking of the scrap of rickety metal she’d scaled in Black Hole Mine, she shook her head. If he wasn’t worried, then perhaps it was wise to believe him.

“So how do I tell the difference between my power and my thoughts?” she asked. “Vera said I should meditate, but…” She sighed. “I don’t know about that.”

Kyne shrugged. “Vera has good intentions, and she’s not wrong, but you’ll be meditating your entire life before you find anything. Anyway, you’re already doing it, and it’s more than those clouds and the rock in the mine.”

Eloise didn’t seem convinced. “How do you figure that?”

“The way you polish opal. That’s your power guiding you. It tells your hand where to cut, where to press on the grinder, and when to stop. It’s why you rise with the sun and bury your toes in the earth. It’s why you feel a sense of peace in nature. It’s why you avoid the city.”

She scowled. “How do you know?”

“Am I wrong?”

Her lips thinned and she shook her head. “No.”

“Eloise, you’re not going to have a big moment with your power because it’s always been with you. You’ve always been like this. What seems normal is normal…for an elemental. There isn’t fireworks or fireballs. You just are.”

“But when you lifted the rock off us in your mine, your eyes…” she trailed off, feeling silly for even asking.

“That only happens on special occasions,” he told her with a grin. “It took a lot to lift that rock and I had to kick it into overdrive.”

They sat underneath the boab as night fell, Eloise thinking about everything Kyne had told her. Something wasn’t clicking. Her power still seemed beyond her reach like some abstract idea she couldn’t grab hold of. It wasn’t like Vera’s magic where she conjured purple light or brewed potions and wrote spells. It wasn’t like Drew, who could change into a dingo, or Wally, who turned with the moon. Even Hardy, whose tangible senses were enhanced and his life extended—all amazing things despite the drawbacks.

There was no folklore about elementals. They didn’t make TV shows or movies about them. They were unknown, just as her connection to them was.

Finally, she asked, “What makes us different from full elementals?”

“Emotion,” Kyne replied. “Humans can love, hate, and everything in between. Nature doesn’t discriminate or care, it just is. That’s what an elemental is at their core.”

Eloise scowled. It was yet another thing to dislike the elementals for, but it was the paradox of her existence. How could something not care for its child?

“Not only that,” Kyne continued, “it’s our forms as well. We’re human on the surface, but a true elemental can shift and change with the currents of nature. They are part of the rocks, the trees, the wind, and the rain. They are part of the fire that sweeps across the land. They shape the opal I dig out of the ground. Nature thrives wherever their footsteps fall.”

“And we’re the blight that brings it all to ruin,” she murmured. “Humans consume; they pollute, squabble, and destroy.” No wonder they cast us out, she thought. “Perhaps we’re the bridge that can begin to heal it all.”

Kyne snorted, his eyes narrowing. He didn’t seem to believe it.

“Here,” he said, handing her an egg-shaped rock. “Take this.”

“A rock?” she asked with a frown. “What am I supposed to do with this? Turn it into gold?”

Kyne chuckled and pressed it into her hand. “No. We’re not that powerful. We can only manipulate what’s there, remember?” He closed her fingers around the stone. “This rock is full of fine minerals and metals. They could be iron, quartz, sand, lime, and silica. Think about where we are and what we mine out here. It could be a crystal geode, boulder opal, or a hunk of metal.”

She held the stone close. “How do I know which?”

“That’s your homework. Figure it out, then bring it back.”

“How…”

“You’ve got all the tools you need,” he told her. “This bit you have to do on your own.”

Eloise’s head rose as she heard a low rumbling sound in the shadows. “What’s that?”

Kyne tensed beside her, his gaze falling on a ghostly figure. A enormous grey wolf stalked out of the shadows, its eyes glinting unnaturally gold in the moonlight. It began to growl, its lips pulling back to reveal long, menacing, teeth.

Kyne began to rise, his gaze fixed on the wolf. “Eloise…”

“Is that…?” Her heart jackhammered in her chest as she pushed to her knees. A wolf in the outback? It could only be one person…

“Wally,” he murmured. “He’s not himself. He doesn’t know what he’s doing.” Which meant he would attack his enemies…and his friends.

“He’s supposed to be down a mine shaft,” she whispered.

Kyne wasn’t listening. “When I say, I want you to run to Vera’s and don’t look back.”

“But—”

“Don’t argue. Just do it.”

The wolf approached, its head lowered as Eloise poised herself on her heels.

“Now.”

She took off, disappearing behind the Outpost. A cry echoed behind her and she stopped, trembling with fear. Kyne. He hadn’t followed, but she realised he meant to lead Wally away to give her enough time to get to safety.

Swallowing hard, she leaned back around the corner.

Kyne was lying in the middle of the road, the wolf on top of him. It snapped his jaws as the miner desperately tried to hold it back, but it was a losing battle.

Eloise glanced up and down the road, but nothing stirred. No one was around, not even Hardy. There wasn’t enough time to get help. She would have to be it.

“Hey!” Eloise shouted, running out from behind the corner of the Outpost. She waved her hands over her head. “Over here!”

It had the desired effect. Wally leapt off Kyne and began to run towards her.

“Oh shit.” Eloise stumbled backwards as Kyne scrambled to his feet.

“Run!” he bellowed. “Run!”

Turning, she sprinted into the darkness, not knowing which way she was running. She darted around trees, weaved through scrub, the sounds of Wally’s pursuit echoing behind her. The dense bushes and barbed spinifex grass seemed to slow him, and it was her one saving grace.

The earth stirred beneath her feet and the wind played across her face, and soon the only sound that reached her ears was her own breath.

Eloise stopped her flight and turned. She was alone.

She didn’t know how long she’d ran, only that she wasn’t near Solace anymore. The sky was clear and dusted with stars and the outback was tinted silver. Her only light was from the full moon which started this mess in the first place.

“Kyne?” she called, her voice echoing back. “Kyne?”

Silence. Deafening silence.

“Shit,” she cursed, running her hands over her sweaty brow.

Which way was north? What was the direction she’d run from Solace? Did it matter? She turned, but every way looked the same.

There was no denying her stupidity. She was well and truly lost.

Chapter 12

The night wore on, the stars and their complex constellations were useless.

Eloise walked because there was nothing else for her to do. If she wanted to find her way back, then she had to do something. When the sun rose, she’d get real thirsty, real fast.

She didn’t know if Kyne was okay or if Wally had changed back. There was no telling how the werewolf had escaped…or if he was let out. Thinking about the Dust Dogs, she wondered if it was all a setup.

The sun rose in the east…ish. This time of year, it wasn’t exactly true east, though it never was. It was more northeast.

Bloody hell, she thought. One degree off and I’ll end up hundreds of kilometres off course.

She turned, her gaze taking in the scrub. It all looked the same. Had she passed that tree already? Maybe, but the one next to it looked just like it.

Looking over her shoulder, her breath caught. Three yellowish lights burned in the distance.

She squinted and held her breath. The lights seemed to hover, bobbing up and down ever so slightly. As she took a step forwards, they began to move…or it could’ve been a mirage.

Either way, lights meant habitation. People.

Eloise had never been so hopeful about seeing another living person in her whole entire life, so she followed the lights through the scrub. They bobbed and danced, leading her on what felt like an epic chase. No matter how far she walked, they never seemed to get any closer, and then they blinked out.

She stopped in her tracks, looking around. Moving from side to side, she scanned the landscape in the distance, hoping the lights had just been obscured by a tree or hill…but the land was flat and no matter how far she moved in either direction, the lights never turned back on.

Dammit. She was getting tired and thirsty, and it’d only get worse once the sun came up.

The distinct sound of stone against stone echoed in the distance. It knocked three times.

Knock, knock, knock.

She turned around, her ears tingling. That’s when she saw it. A shadow moved between the weathered trees, partially illuminated by the silver gleam of the moon.

Eloise stilled, her heart hammering. She’d never been afraid of the wilderness, having travelled to some of the remotest parts of Australia—from Cape York to the Kimberly—but there was a coldness in the air, screaming at her in warning.

Not questioning it, she ducked low, hiding amongst some scratchy bushes as the shadow flittered in the distance, creeping ever closer.

What was it? It made no sound, not like the nocturnal creatures of the outback, which she now realised had fallen silent. There was no scratching, scurrying, or any calls on the wind.

It had the faint shape of a humanoid creature, with a head, arms, and legs, but it moved with an unnatural gait.

Fear bubbled inside her, her stomach twisting in knots. Holding her breath, she kept as still as she could, willing herself invisible so the shadow would leave her alone.

Of all the bloody stupid things you could do, Eloise Hart, you had to run into the outback and get yourself lost.

It wasn’t until the coldness began to subside that she dared to open her eyes.

The shadow was gone, and with it, the terror in her heart. Whatever that thing was, it wasn’t human…or friendly.

Climbing out of the bushes, she decided the best thing to do was to go in the opposite direction of the shadow. She continued on her path, hoping she was going the right way.

Eloise looked up at the sky and wondered if she should pray. She’d never been a religious kind of person, so she wasn’t sure it’d do any good.

She was well and truly up shit creek without a paddle…and then some.

Kyne bashed his fist against Hardy’s shop door. A light burned inside the workshop where the vampire was likely polishing his way through a mountain of black opal.

“Hardy!” he bellowed. “Open up!”

A moment later, Hardy appeared at the door and flipped the lock. Kyne barged into the shop, his hands burying into his hair.

“What’s happened?” the vampire asked. “You look like hell.”

“Wally got out,” he replied. “He—”

Hardy grabbed Kyne’s arm, his cold fingers pulling him around. “Where is he?”

“I was with Eloise. I told her to run to Vera’s, but Wally was too fast for me. He had me pinned in the middle of the bloody road, and then she comes out waving her hands in the air…” He let out a frustrated cry.

“Eloise? Where is she?”

“Where the hell were you?” Kyne demanded.

“Don’t get all up in my face,” he replied. “I had my noise-canceling headphones on. Where’s Eloise?”

“Wally chased her into the scrub.”

The vampire’s expression turned serious. “I’ll go out and see if I can pick up her trail,” he said. “Wally will still be prowling, so be careful.”

Before Kyne could reply, Hardy had disappeared.

Locking up the shop, he went next door to Vera’s, keeping his eyes open for the wolf. Wally had chased Eloise, but it didn’t mean he was still on her trail.

He bashed on Vera’s door, not letting up until she opened it.

“What in the world?” Her curly red hair was wild, and she had on her pyjamas—a silky black negligée that left little to the imagination and a matching dressing gown. “What’s your problem?”

He pushed past her and strode down the hall. Vera’s place was a dugout—a renovated mine—and was icy cool. The air smelt like earth and herbs, and the lime-green bead curtain that hung across the door to the lounge room clacked as he swept it aside.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Vera demanded.

“Wally got out,” he replied. “Attacked me and chased Eloise into the scrub.”

The witch gaped at him. “What?”

He turned around, his heart hammering. “Hardy’s gone to look, but if she’s lost—”

“He’ll find her,” the witch said. She wrapped her dressing gown around her slim waist and tied it closed, then guided him to the couch, making him sit. “But you need to calm down before your head explodes…or you make the roof cave-in on us.”

Kyne narrowed his eyes. “Not funny.”

“I wasn’t trying to be a comedian.” She went into the kitchen and began to fuss. “I’m making you some tea.” The starter on the stove clicked and the sound of water filling the kettle drifted to where he sat.

Vera’s house was unique, not just because it was an old opal mine. It was full of her witch things—drying herbs, crystals, mystical artwork, daggers, books, and an altar. He’d never been into the other rooms before, preferring not to know.

“I’m making a special brew,” she continued. “It’s made from…”

Her voice seemed to fade away as he studied the lounge, his gaze falling on a dirty duffle bag and a pair of worn work boots. Drew.

Kyne’s lip curled as Vera came in holding a steaming mug. The words ‘Blessed Be’ were written on the side in a swirling font. “Here,” she said. “This will calm your nerves.”

The Dust Dogs had let out Wally, Kyne was sure of it—there was no other explanation—and they were sniffing around Solace because of Drew and whatever he stole from them.

Vera followed his gaze and sighed, then set down the tea. “He hasn’t been back since I threw some potatoes at him a few days ago.”

“He won’t get far without his boots.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about his feet,” she said wryly. “No sense, no feeling.” She nudged his arm. “Drink your tea. It tastes like chocolate. You’ll like it.”

Chocolate and magic. “No thanks.”

“Kyne.”

Eloise was out there, probably frightened out of her mind. It wouldn’t take much for her to get turned around. The outback didn’t discriminate. Once the sun rose—

“I’m going out there.” He stood, but Vera grabbed his arm and pulled him back down.

“No, you’re not. Hardy’s got this. If anyone can find them, it’s him.”

They hadn’t been there long when there was a hammering at the front door. Kyne was on his feet in an instant, striding down the hall.

It was Hardy, propping up an exhausted and dirty Wally, but he didn’t look happy.

Kyne’s heart sank. There was no sign of Eloise, but Hardy dragged Wally inside, the old mechanic naked as the day he was born.

Vera let out a little yelp and rushed to fetch a blanket. She wrapped the old wolf up tight, set him in a chair, and handed the mug of tea she’d tried to force down Kyne’s throat to him instead.

“Anything?” Kyne asked.

“There was no sign of her,” the vampire replied.

Vera looked troubled. “Nothing?”

“I was teaching her how to use her powers,” Kyne said. “She must’ve used them to escape.”

Hardy shook his head. “Whatever she did, it covered her tracks. There wasn’t even a scent.”

“I shouldn’t have been able to get out,” Wally said. “That shaft was ten metres deep.”

“Unless someone sunk a shaft in at the other end,” Kyne said.

Vera gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. “Do you think it was the Dust Dogs?”

“Who else could it be?” Hardy asked.

“It doesn’t matter who did what,” Kyne snapped. “Eloise is missing.”

“She won’t get far without water,” Wally said, wringing his hands.

“That’s if the Dust Dogs don’t find her first,” Vera said. “But they’re not the only things that live out there. If she crosses paths with a kadaitcha—”

“We can’t rely on what-if’s,” Kyne interrupted. “Can you scry for her?”

Vera shrugged. “Maybe. I’m not sure it’ll work.”

As the witch gathered her tools, Wally began to sob, the old mechanic distraught.

“I never meant to hurt anyone,” he muttered. “Never. If something happens to her, I’ll never forgive myself.”

Kyne placed a hand on his shoulder. “It’s not your fault. You’re not yourself when you change.”

Vera rolled out a geological survey map of the Solace area on the coffee table and set some candles and quartz crystals on the corners to hold it flat.

“Nobody say anything. I need to concentrate,” she warned.

She held up a long silver chain and on the end was a wire-wrapped chunk of polished boulder opal. Kyne felt the stone’s vibrations but said nothing, letting Vera work.

The witch held it over the map with her other hand palm out. As she closed her eyes and focused, a pool of purple magic began to form on the map and tracked around the township of Solace, following the wobbly lines of the geological survey.

They watched, Wally leaning forwards keenly, hoping Vera’s magic would guide them in the right direction.

After about ten minutes, the magic hadn’t moved past Solace and Vera dropped her hands with a sigh. The purple glow faded and she shook her head.

“It’s like she’s here, but not. Like…” she frowned, “like she’s beyond.”

“Beyond what?” Kyne asked.

“Life.”

His expression fell. “She’s—”

“No, she’s not dead, just somewhere else. Somewhere beyond the reach of my magic.”

“Well, I refuse to believe it,” Hardy said. “Her powers have the potential to alter perception. That’s all this is.”

“I don’t know how she went through life not knowing,” Vera said with a shake of her head.

“She knew enough to figure out it was her touch that altered people’s perceptions,” Kyne told her. “Give her some credit.”

“We need to organise a search party,” Wally muttered, Vera’s tea sending him a little loopy. “Work in grids in the direction she took off in.”

“Agreed. I’ll go and speak to Finn,” Hardy said. “We’re going to need all the hands we can get. It ain’t over until we lay eyes on her.”

“I’m coming with you,” Vera said. “Just let me get changed first.”

“No,” Kyne said. “Stay here and look after Wally.”

The witch pouted and almost stamped her foot. “Why? She’s my friend too, you know.”

“I know, but you just drugged the poor guy.”

She looked at Wally and groaned. “Oh no. It wasn’t supposed to do that.”

“Phone Blue, would you?” Wally drawled. “He oughta know.”

Vera grabbed Kyne’s arm. “Are you sure? My magic isn’t totally useless.”

“She went east,” he murmured.

She paled. “If she went that way, there isn’t water for hundreds of kilometres.”

He grimaced as his hands began to shake. “If we don’t find her by tomorrow afternoon…”

A tear slipped from Vera’s eye. “Then you better hurry.”

With the sun, came the heat.

Eloise dragged her feet, her lips dry. Her head spun and nausea had already set in. She was hungry, tired, and thirsty. How long could a person last out here without water before it was all over? Maybe a day at best.

Letting out a strangled cry, she fell to the dry, baked earth, the sand and grit searing her bare legs. She was sunburnt, and the longer she was outside, every little bit of exposed skin reddened further.

People really weren’t being overly pessimistic when they warned travellers about being prepared for the outback; it really was that cut and dry. What a way to find out. Running from a werewolf, no less.

She felt the weight of the stone Kyne had given her in her pocket. We can only manipulate what’s already there. What if… There had to be a water table out here; otherwise, how were the trees growing?

Eloise placed her palms on the ground and willed water to rise. Her heart leapt as a muddy puddle began to form. It was working, but it was a scant few drops thick with grit.

Cursing, she wet her fingers and sucked on them anyway. It was better than nothing, and even the slightest damp soothed her dry lips and lifted her spirits.

Pushing to her feet with renewed energy, Eloise continued her slow, painful march. If she didn’t, she was as good a dead. Maybe there’d be more water up ahead…or maybe she wasn’t that far from Solace after all.

Grit seemed to get into every crevasse, even when she didn’t touch anything. It stuck to her lips, chafed her thighs, buried into her boots, and even ground against her teeth.

She was certain she smelt like something rank, sweat dripping down her spine as the sun wrung her of every last drop of moisture in her body. Eloise was beyond caring about her hygiene. Her heels rubbed painfully against the inside of her boots, her throat burned, and she was sure she was beginning to see things hidden in the trees. Eyes. Shadows. Monsters.

She dragged her boots through the shifting red dirt, dirt that was beginning to feel more like sand underfoot. Tripping on a rock, she stumbled and fell to her knees, landing with a strangled cry.

Sobbing, she dragged her battered and bruised body into the thready shade of a wind beaten tree.

I’ll just rest here for a while, she thought. Wait for the sun to go down.

Her eyes drooped as she struggled to stay awake, but she was fighting a losing battle.

The mountain reared above her, black and unnatural. Blobs of volcanic rock piled high, the air throbbed with pulsing energy.

“Water,” she croaked, scraping her palms on the ground. “Water…”

The earth remained bone dry, the mountain baring down on her.

Her eyes fluttered closed and she sighed. At least she found answers before it all ended.

At least she had that.

Chapter 13

Hands clapped in front of Eloise’s face. “Wake up.”

Her eyes snapped open and she groaned, her senses dulled.

A weathered face framed by wiry grey hair looked down at her, the stranger’s blue eyes shining with annoyance.

“Water,” Eloise managed to whisper. “I need water.”

The face disappeared and she tried to lift her groggy head, but it felt like her skull was crammed full of cotton wool. Her throat was dry and raw.

Cool ceramic pressed against Eloise’s lips and she felt the first drops of precious water hit her tongue. She gulped, swallowing so fast she began to cough.

“Slow,” the stranger said. “Make yourself sick.”

“Who are you?” Eloise managed to rasp. Looking up, she saw an old woman with long, silver hair tied in a messy plait that hung over her shoulder. Her clothes—a simple blueish dress that fell to her knees and a long-sleeved cream cardigan that was stained burnt orange—were similarly worn as the skin on her face, but her eyes held a sparkle that betrayed more than age.

“I am Andante.”

“Andante… Is that Italian?”

“It’s the name I gave myself,” the woman told her. “No one alive knows my true name. What do they call you?”

“Eloise. Eloise Hart.”

Andante narrowed her eyes and scrutinised her with a fierce scowl. “Hart, but no brains. What were you thinking coming out here with no water or food? Stupid.”

“Believe me, I know,” she drawled. “I was chased.”

“Chased?” Her eyes narrowed and she turned to refill Eloise’s cup from a pail of water.

Now sense had begun to return to her, Eloise looked around at where she lay. The walls were rough rock, fading through oranges and yellows, but held no sign of mining. There were no pick marks, no props, no electricity, no paint. The floor was hard stone, uneven and warm to the touch. The mattress beneath her was lumpy and firm in places, and completely uncomfortable.

“Where am I?”

“Home,” the woman replied, handing her the cup. “What chased you?”

“I, uh…” Eloise sipped, careful to drink slow this time. “I’m not sure you’d believe me.”

“Look around,” Andante said. “I believe more than you do.”

She looked again, seeing a cave, not a mine. A fire, a bed of leaves, and… Runes on the walls. Her gaze shifted back to the old woman.

“Open your eyes, Eloise Hart. All three of them, then you will see.”

“A werewolf,” she blurted. “A werewolf chased me, but he didn’t mean it.”

Andante snorted.

“I— My—” She frowned and wondered what exactly the people of Solace were to her. Who Kyne was to her. “They’ll be looking for me. The people from Solace.” At least she hoped so.

“They won’t find,” Andante told her. “We are hidden here, folded away in a pocket of space and time.”

Her eyebrows rose. Fair enough. Who was she to argue? Stranger things had happened lately.

“The people here call it the Dreaming,” Andante added. “A pretty name.”

“What is it exactly?”

“It is a place where time does not exist. Where all is spirit and nature, and existence is one.”

Her thoughts went to Coen and his walkabout, and Kyne and his short, but informative lessons on being an elemental. Did that mean Eloise was connected to the Dreaming? Maybe that was the gift their elemental parents had granted her and Kyne. To not just shape the physical, but to connect with memory. The memory of the earth, the animals, and everything that tied it together. Did he know? Did he understand?

“You travel close to the spirits,” Andante told her. “They sense you. They follow.”

“I-I saw a shadow in the night.”

The woman narrowed her eyes. “Kadaitcha.”

“Kadaitcha? You mean a shapeshifter?”

“No. Shapeshifters are humanoid. Kadaitcha were never anything like that.” She snorted. “Evil creatures. Shadows that shift and change.”

“What about the lights?”

“Lights?”

“I saw three yellow lights in the night. They… It seemed like they wanted me to follow.”

“Ah, the Min Min.” Andante nodded. “That’s what people call them in the south. Names hold power, and so all call them that now. Knowledge spreads like the wind. Sprites, they are.”

“Are they like spirits?”

“Something like that.”

Eloise wondered if they were spirit creatures, rather than what was left over of humans. Maybe they were the souls of animals. Who knew? Andante didn’t seem to think they were important.

“Fate or stupidity brought you here, Eloise Hart,” she went on, “but it doesn’t matter which. You dream and you come…eventually.” She clucked her tongue and pouted.

“Dream?” Eloise blinked and reached for more water. “I don’t understand.”

“Stupidity, then.”

“I may not know much, but I’m not stupid,” she huffed.

“That remains to be seen.” Andante held up her hand as Eloise went to argue. “Listen closely, girl, for I will have to send you back before you dry out.”

“Send me back?” she asked, but the mysterious old woman wasn’t listening.

“They will try and open it, and others will come in their wake.”

“Open what?”

“The seal,” Andante replied with a frustrated scowl. “He buried their key and if they figure out what it unlocks… I believe the word is ‘calamity’.”

“A key? To what?”

She swept her arm wide, gesturing to the walls of the cave. “Did you know this whole area was once a coral reef?”

Eloise nodded. “Yeah. Millions of years ago, though. It’s why there’s opal here.”

“After the reef rose out of the ocean, the land was covered in rivers, then it all dried up. The land moves, you know. It lives.”

“It lives? Like…literally?” Eloise frowned, not understanding a word Andante was saying. What did this have to do with anything?

“A spirit older than the universe once dwelt here. A spirit older than the stars who shaped the land. The ocean had a heart, long ago.”

“I…” She clutched the cup against her chest, wondering if she’d gone past the weird and wonderful world of the supernatural and landed in full blown crazy. Andante seemed like she was a hermit, living in a cave on the fringes of the fridges of society, scratching runes on the walls and spouting prophetic nonsense. “I just want to go back to Solace.”

“Good. You should go, but I’d lie back if I were you.”

Eloise wasn’t in a position to argue, so she did as she was told. She was grateful for the woman’s help, but out of all her travels, she was the strangest person she’d ever met.

Andante leaned over and smiled. “Beware, Eloise Hart. More will come. The Dreaming is not a place to go unprotected.” Then she clicked her fingers and everything went dark.

Eloise woke with a start, her head rising.

A pair of small, brown eyes peered at her and she cried out. The kangaroo simply stared at her, its whiskers twitching.

She was lying beneath the same tree she’d collapsed underneath, her entire body aching. A tuft of vicious, barbed spinifex grass was an inch from her nose. Running her tongue over her lips, she found them dry and chapped, a fine layer of grit over her front teeth.

Groaning, she pushed herself up and wiped at the dirt pressed into her cheek as the kangaroo leaned back on its rope-like tail and waited.

Had she really met Andante? Was the woman a hallucination brought about by heat stroke and dehydration? Probably.

Still, the kangaroo was rather friendly for a wild animal. This far away from civilisation, they didn’t have any tolerance for humans.

Eloise pushed to her knees, her entire body a painful mixture of aches and sunburn. The kangaroo hopped a few paces away, then paused and looked over its shoulder at her, waiting.

“You want me to follow you?” she asked, her voice cracking.

The kangaroo jumped again and looked back at her.

She had nothing to lose. The sun was going down and she was still alive, so while she had some strength left, she’d keep trying. Maybe the kangaroo had been drawn by her elemental power. Or maybe it was just another mirage born out of delirium come to haunt her last moments. Whatever it was, it didn’t seem to matter anymore.

Her boots dragged in the dirt as she followed the kangaroo, but no matter how slow she went, it stopped and waited for her to catch up.

The sun began to set, the first stars shining through the light-drenched atmosphere, but she hardly saw them. Her vision was slipping, her blood whooshing in her ears like a tornado.

Coldness throbbed in her fingertips and spread through her limbs, and no matter how close she clutched her shirt, it didn’t stave off the chills that wracked her body. Her internal organs were beginning to seize, her life slipping away. Still, the kangaroo led her, waiting and lingering as she followed.

The land beat a slow rhythm as she walked, her steps the drum and the hard, unforgiving red dirt the skin. The kangaroo was her guide, silent and warm, a point of light amongst the darkness. Marlu.

Smoke rose into the sky, a thin stream of greyish-white against the midnight blue. The horizon glowed yellow and orange, the rhythm reaching a crescendo made up of a low droning that reminded her of a didgeridoo, clicks of wood against wood, and unknown animal calls…then stopped dead.

Eloise collapsed and rolled onto her back, her breath shallow. This was it, a slow, quiet end with nothing and no one to show for her troubles.

A low whine echoed in the distance, and a hand reached down towards her, a human shape silhouetted against the fading light, surrounded by stars.

“Marlu bring you,” Coen said, lifting her up. “You are on your path now.”

“Coen?” Eloise croaked, a tear slipping from her eye. It seemed like the last bit of water inside her. “Am I dead?”

“Just about, but not today.” The Indigenous man sat beside her, holding her battered body against his. He reached behind them and offered her a bright green bottle.

“Our greatest power is to heal ourselves and connect with the earth,” he murmured as he held the bottle to her lips. “Water will heal all or sweep it all away.”

“I was lost, I…” She gasped as the cool liquid hit her stomach, desperate for more.

“They name me for the thunder,” he told her, helping her hold the bottle. “The thunder brings the lightning, and the lightning brings the rain.”

“If you’re the thunder, who is the lightning?” she wondered.

He smiled and looked across the fire. Eloise followed his gaze and found a dingo sitting at attention, its creamy yellow coat burning orange in the glow of the embers.

“Drew?” she whispered.

“It’s time I bring you home,” Coen said.

“Home?” She clutched the drink bottle against her chest. “I have no home.”

He laughed and grinned at the dingo. “See? This is what happens when you leave people out in the sun. It bakes ‘em like a biscuit.”

Chapter 14

Drew sat on his haunches, looking at Coen over the campfire as the flames popped and cracked.

His dingo eyes saw more than his human ones did, his senses sharpened through his sensitive ears and keen nose. Dingoes were born hunters, stalking the twilight for their prey, howling at the rising and falling sun.

As he studied the Indigenous man, he saw him for the first time and wasn’t quite sure what it was he was witnessing. Coen burned with an aura that was both warm and chilling, his supernatural power like nothing Drew had ever encountered—and he’d seen many supernatural things travelling the outback: shadows, sprites, shifters, and all the people living in Solace.

It made him wonder who Coen really was. A man without a mob, or a creature who never had one to begin with.

They shared the fire, resting after a long day walking. Coen seemed to be waiting for something but hadn’t told Drew what it was. He was just glad he hadn’t asked about what he was burying when he’d found him in the scrub, his claws scraping at the baked earth.

Drew knew Finn would be after him and it was safer to travel as a dingo. A wise move considering the Dust Dogs were still out there. They hadn’t returned to Solace and he hadn’t seen them, but they wouldn’t stay hidden for long. He just hoped his stolen treasure would remain buried…for all their sakes.

His ears pricked as he detected movement in the scrub. Coen looked up with a knowing smile and stood. Drew waited, trusting the Indigenous man knew was he was doing. The breeze was flat and no scent was close enough for him to pick up.

Then a kangaroo hopped into the ring of firelight and propped up on its tail, nose twitching.

“Greetings, Marlu,” Coen said. “Did you bring her?”

If the kangaroo replied, Drew didn’t hear it. The question was answered with the arrival of another visitor. One who’d seen better days.

Eloise collapsed beside the fire, her mousey blonde hair splaying out around her as she rolled onto her back.

So this was what Coen had been waiting for…

It took them the better part of an hour to return to Solace. Coen carried Eloise most of the way, though she tried her best to walk.

Drew was impressed by her courage. She was lucky to have made it as far as she did, considering the heat and lack of water. The woman was utterly exhausted, but still had fight left where most would have given up long ago. No wonder Coen had been waiting for her.

He surveyed their surroundings, keeping a watchful eye, but the outback was calm, the threads of the Dreaming barely a flutter against his fur.

The outline of the town emerged from the scrub, the glow of electric lights guiding their final steps. They were met on the outskirts by Hardy, who appeared out of thin air, his vampire enhancements leading him to them.

“Coen?” he asked. “Eloise?”

“Ah,” the Indigenous man replied. “Hello.”

Hardy rushed forwards and took Eloise out of his arms as Drew slunk out of the shadows, warily sniffing the air.

“She is unwell,” Coen told him. “She needs water and rest. Her skin is burned by the sun.”

“Vera can help her,” he replied, glancing at Drew. “She’ll want to see you, too.”

Before Drew could think about what he should do, the vampire was gone, carrying Eloise to safety.

He looked up at Coen, a question in his caramel eyes.

“The path is never easy,” he told the dingo, “but you walk the right direction.” He nodded towards the Outpost. “Go. They’ll understand soon enough.”

Turning around, Drew looked to the Indigenous man but he was gone. There was nothing else for him to do but return to the outback or face Vera and the others.

Best be a man about it.

Hardy was talking to several fae—a man and two women—when he approached Vera’s. The vampire glanced at the dingo as he shook hands with each of the fae, then approached Drew.

“Still a dingo, I see,” he said. “Is it easier for you?” Drew wagged his tail a couple of times and the vampire nodded. “Well, go in then.” He held the door open and the dingo slipped inside.

Finn’s lip curled when he saw Drew pad into Vera’s lounge room. “And here he is, slinking back with his tail between his legs, too frightened to be a man about it.”

Drew had never shifted in front of anyone before, but he did it now, ashamed as his body changed and his bones snapped and popped into place.

Kyne, Hardy, and Finn watched him, though when he became more man than dingo, the vampire and elemental had the grace to look away. The fae, however, took great delight at his discomfort.

When he finally stood before them as a man, Finn launched himself across the room, his fist flying through the air.

Drew winced as knuckles collided with his cheek and he stumbled backwards against the wall.

Kyne placed a hand on Finn’s chest as the fae was gearing up for a second shot. “I think that’s enough.”

“You gave up the mantle of leader, Kyne,” Finn raged. “I want what I’m owed.”

“What you’re owed?” Hardy asked. “And what’s that?”

“Blood for blood.”

Kyne snorted and handed Drew the crocheted rug from the back of the couch. “We don’t do revenge in Solace. We’re here because we’re Exiles, not perpetrators of endless violence.”

“You should be angry,” Finn seethed. “It was because of Drew that Eloise was out there in the first place!”

“I didn’t tell her to go walking out in the outback without water,” Drew hissed, wrapping the blanket around his bare arse…and all the other bits. “I’ve hardly spoken to her.”

“Wally escaped last night,” Kyne told him. “That’s why she was out there. She was lost.”

Drew swallowed hard. “He got out of that mine?” Even he was smart enough to know a loose werewolf during a full moon was bad news, and Eloise… She’d been out there for almost twenty-four hours. She should be dead.

“We think the Dust Dogs sank a shaft in somewhere,” Hardy explained. “There’s no other way out that doesn’t involve a ladder.”

“I’m going to check it out at first light and plug the hole,” Kyne added.

Drew’s heart twisted and he felt like throwing up. Maybe he should tell them. Maybe they’ll understand. Coen said they would…in time. Though time was something they didn’t seem to have enough of.

“It’s your fault,” Finn raged. “If those dogs come here looking for trouble, they’re going to find it!”

“Shut it,” Kyne snapped, jabbing a finger at the fae. “There will be no fighting or killing. The last thing we need is a bunch of cops poking their noses around here. Solace needs to be protected.”

“Now you want to be the hero!” Finn scoffed, throwing his hands in the air. “And here I was thinking you were too busy pouting in your hole to give a crap about us.”

“Will you shut the hell up?” Vera exclaimed, barging through the beaded curtain. “Eloise needs her rest.” When she saw Drew, her expression faded.

“Vera…” he began, but the witch held up her hand.

“Not now,” she said. “I’m all out of potatoes.” She pointed to Drew’s bag and boots laying in the corner of the room. “Take your things and go to Blue’s. I know he’s been feeding you.”

“It was just one burger,” he complained. “Vera—”

“Out.”

“But—”

“I don’t want you here, Drew. Please, just…” She sighed as her magic crackled. “Get the hell out of my house.”

Kyne, Hardy, and Finn were glaringly silent as he pulled off the crocheted rug and flung it onto the couch. Stark naked, he grabbed his stuff and strode through the annoying bead curtain and didn’t look back.

Maybe he shouldn’t have listened to Coen after all.

Chapter 15

Eloise’s eyes opened. Her body felt heavy, sinking into a soft mattress.

A soft glow illuminated a whitewashed roof and walls, the chisel marks from a jackhammer making a mottled pattern in the rock. The blankets smelled like chamomile—soft, sweet, and a little apple-like—and the large yellow and blue sun and moon tapestry that hung on the wall reminded her of Vera.

Her gaze fixed on Kyne, who was laying back in an armchair, his battered hat sitting low over his face.

God, she must look like hell. She felt embarrassed about everything. The raw sunburn that must be tinting her face lobster red and not to mention running into the scrub in the first place. Hindsight was delivering a brutal truth.

Raising her hand, she pressed her palm against her forehead and groaned. The sound roused Kyne, who jerked awake.

“Eloise,” he said, leaning close to the bed. “How do you feel?”

“Like an overcooked sausage,” she rasped.

He helped her sit, not afraid of touching her, and picked up the glass beside the bed. He held the green metal straw to her lips as she drank, the water soothing her dry and irritated throat.

“Where am I?” she managed to ask. “How did I get here?”

“Vera’s,” Kyne replied, setting the glass down again. “Coen and Drew brought you back.”

“Drew?” Her brow creased. “I think I remember seeing a dingo.”

“That’d be him.”

She pressed her hands against her cheeks and groaned. “I feel like crap, but better than I ought to.”

“Vera used her magic to help you heal,” Kyne explained. “The sunburn is almost gone, but it’s not a cure-all. You’ll still have to rest.”

“What happened?” she asked.

“Not two minutes after you ran, Hardy went out looking for you, but you’d erased your trail. You’d lost Wally and the rest of us.”

“I didn’t mean to,” she said. “I didn’t even realise…”

“I know. Now you understand what you are, it’s a double-edged sword, hey?”

“Be careful what I wish for?”

He smiled. “Yeah, something like that.”

She frowned, remembering the water she’d tried to rise out of the ground. Telling Kyne, he shook his head.

“Normally, you’d be right, but out here, the water table is patchy at best. Out east, it’s pretty much non-existent.”

“Then how does anything survive?”

“Nature adapts quickly,” he told her. “And the wet season sweeps all the way down here. From November, there’s six months of rain that can turn all those dry riverbeds into raging torrents. The outback comes alive.”

From the look in his eyes, Eloise knew it was beautiful…or the kind of beautiful an elemental would appreciate. Floods out here would likely bring a great deal of trouble for the human population, cutting off the road to traffic and the limited power supply.

The thought of so much water triggered something in her mind. This entire area had once been an ancient coral reef, and when it’d almost dried up, a vast network of rivers and creeks. That’s why there was so much opal. Water and silica settled in the cracks and millions of years later, formed the glittering rock that was so sought after. It was also the reason people came here looking for gold. The rivers.

“Wally is beside himself,” Kyne said. “He’s a blubbering mess.”

“It wasn’t his fault,” she said. “He’s not himself when he changes. He told me so.”

Eloise reached for the water again, holding the glass against her chest. It was cold, the relief on her flushed skin instant.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Kyne murmured after a moment.

She scowled, her thoughts going to the last day. Walking, hoping, hiding. The shadow flitting through the trees, the kangaroo leading her to safety, Coen and Drew. Andante.

They will try and open it, and others will come in their wake.

She was beginning to realise her dreams were manifesting in life. The knocks in the dark from the kadaitcha, the blurry person standing over her that she now realised was Coen, but what did the mountain mean?

“It was my dream,” she whispered. “I saw it all. For months and months, I saw it. Just a dream… Just a dream…”

“A dream?” Kyne asked.

Eloise rested her forehead against her knees. Was everything she experienced out there part of it? Was her power driving her mad or was it just dehydration? Andante had seemed so real, but Eloise had woken up in the same place where she’d lost consciousness.

The ocean had a heart, long ago.

“Eloise? Are you okay?”

“There’s been nothing but trouble since I came,” she said, lifting her head.

“Most of it’s because of Drew,” Kyne argued, “not you. I’m going to go out and check in a bit, but we think the Dust Dogs sunk a shaft into a hidden tunnel in Wally’s mine. That’s how he got out.”

Maybe it was old wounds reopening or maybe it was just exhaustion, but Eloise felt a wave of emotion crash into her all at once.

“I didn’t want to cause any trouble,” she whispered, tears beginning to well in her eyes. “I didn’t mean to.” Great, now she was crying in front of the guy she had a crush on. Yeah, that’s right. A crush.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Kyne murmured. “None of this was because of you.”

“The mine, the secrecy, getting lost, Hardy giving me a pointless job that costs him money. I’m not even sure I’ll be able to pay Wally for my van repairs. It’s going to take all the money I have, but I’ve still got to eat, and then there’s Dust Dogs and kadaitchas, Min Min, and who knows what else. None of this seemed a problem until I came here…until my stupid, bloody van busted a head gasket. And I still don’t know what a head gasket is!”

“Hey now,” Kyne said, reaching towards her.

She jerked back, folding her hands underneath the blanket. He frowned and leaned back.

“I’m sorry,” she moaned. “I… I’m not used to…”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m just glad you’re okay.” He took a deep breath. “I don’t want you to worry about your van, either.”

“I have to, Kyne,” she said. “It’s my home. It’s all I have.”

“I disagree.”

She glared at him, her anger rising with a blinding headache. “My real parents didn’t want me, and I made my adopted ones hate me. I have nowhere else to go. I have no family. No house. No roots. Everything I own is in that van. If I can’t fix it, I have nothing.”

“That’s not true,” Kyne murmured. “We could be your family.”

It sounded like a dream, but that’s exactly what it was.

She rubbed her eyes, trying to hide her frustrated tears. “I barely know any of you and you know even less about me.” Eloise knew Kyne had his own secrets, but the whole town had baggage, including her. Secrets didn’t make for a wholesome family environment, Exiles or not.

“You’ve been through something awful,” he said. “Something none of us will ever understand, though we’ll try. At least there’s that. Not many people would.” He picked up his hat and worried his fingers around the brim. “You should rest and try not to think about money or your van. None of it matters if you don’t have your health, hey?”

Eloise sniffed and wiped her eyes.

“I’m going to let Vera know you’re up,” he added. “Give you some quiet to sleep.” He stood and walked towards the door.

Eloise felt a strange twist in her heart. “Kyne?”

He paused in the doorway and turned around.

“Will you…” She took a breath. “Will you let me know what you find?”

A smile tugged at his lips as he put on his hat. Tipping the brim slightly with his index finger, he said, “Will do.”

Kyne leaned against the outside wall of Wally’s garage, his gaze turning towards the Outpost.

What was it about Eloise that had him so…rattled? His head was messed up more than ever and that was saying something, considering it was almost always full of rocks. Why the Exiles wanted him to be their leader had always been a mystery to him. Hardy was more levelheaded than any of them and with his decades of life experience, he seemed the better option. At least the vampire wasn’t dumb enough to try to take on a werewolf head-on.

Wally was clattering around inside as he decided what tools he was bringing on their trek out back, the sound of metal smashing against metal echoing into the bright morning.

If there was a hole out there, they’d find it and make sure it was plugged.

“How’s Eloise?” Wally emerged with a shotgun in one worn hand, a pick in the other, and his brown hat slightly askew on his grey, balding head.

Kyne eyed the gun. “You really that paranoid?”

“Aren’t you?” He shook his head and his hat settled into place. “After the other night, I’m not taking any chances. It’s the first and last time I’m ever letting my guard down.”

“You’ve never been loose before?”

“Not since I was first turned.” Wally slammed his fist on the button for the roller door and it began to close with a grating rattle. “It’s not an experience I’d like to repeat. I’m just…” he sniffed, “I’m just glad I didn’t hurt her. Not that being lost out there is any better.”

Kyne clapped a hand on the old timer’s shoulder. “She doesn’t blame you.”

“Yeah, nah, but I blame me.”

He sighed and grabbed his pick. “C’mon then, old man. Let’s check the damage.”

They walked around the back of the garage, past Eloise’s van, and into the scrub.

“First Vera’s shop, now my mine,” Wally said. “If this keeps on, we’re going to have to do something about those Dust Dogs.”

Kyne was inclined to agree but said nothing. The Dust Dogs were all the bad things about being a pack shifter. Their animal instincts mixed with crooked human criminal gang politics was bad business. Going after them wouldn’t end well. They’d need guns, numbers, and more magic than any of them had. About ten Hardys might do the trick, but vampires were in short supply.

“Whatever Drew took from them has to be valuable,” Wally added.

“Yeah,” Kyne mused. “But he’s not talking, and I don’t fancy being smashed in the head with a shovel.”

“Hardy said he came back with Coen. Maybe he’s got something to say.”

“Getting a straight answer out of Coen is like getting blood from a stone,” Kyne replied. “Finding him is even harder.”

Wally grunted, ducking under a low branch. “We’re lucky they haven’t come as dingoes. I’ve seen what Drew is like when he shifts and I’m glad I don’t remember what I do as a wolf.”

“If you had control, would you want it?”

Wally snorted. “Of course. If I could stop myself from hunting, it’s all I’d want. I wouldn’t have to lock myself up every full moon and we wouldn’t be out here looking for dingo holes.”

They went a little farther, the mine coming into view. There wasn’t much to see, just a metal grate and a sheet of rusty corrugated iron laying over a single shaft. It was padlocked shut, the whole thing on a frame Kyne had sunk into the hard bedrock. Nothing was moving that thing, not unless they had a pair of bolt cutters. That’s if they got past the magical wards Vera had cast to prevent the lock from being opened by anything other than the key that Wally usually kept locked in his safe back at the garage.

“The lid is screwed on tight,” the old mechanic said.

“Hang on a sec.” Kyne knelt, propping his weight against the handle of his pick. Pressing his palm against the warm earth, he closed his eyes. If something had been dug up around here, he’d feel it.

Below, he followed the tunnels of Wally’s mine, sensing the remains of potch in the old riverbed. The opal had long been dug out; the mine abandoned to ruin until he’d helped the old man turn it into his wolf sanctuary.

Finally, he stood. “There’s a breach to the west. This way.”

Kyne sensed Wally’s growing unease as they walked.

“Did Eloise say anything about what happened out there?” the mechanic asked.

Kyne thought about it for a moment, recalling Vera’s vision. She’d told Kyne about it, but not until after he’d returned from his mining adventure with Eloise. This witch had broken into her van in order to get it, but that was another story he didn’t care to dwell on. It was best to not ask too many leading questions where Vera was involved.

A black mountain made of volcanic rock, a figure reaching towards her, and three knocks in the darkness.

The knocks were the kadaitcha Eloise had mentioned. He’d heard enough stories about them to know they called to each other with simple and sometimes complex knocking sounds in the night. The figure may have been Coen when he’d found her, the Min Min was a precursor to his last meeting with the man. But the mountain was a mystery.

“She didn’t say much, but what she did wasn’t heartwarming,” Kyne said, thinking it was best to keep Vera’s vision between him, Hardy, and the witch.

Wally glanced at him. “What did she say?”

“Something about things in her dreams coming to life and kadaitchas.”

“Kadaitchas? Strewth.”

“She must have seen one, though I’m not sure how she knows what one looks like. Even I haven’t eyed one of the bastards.”

“Neither have I, and I’ve been here thirty years. Coen’s always going on about them.”

“Yeah, but he goes places none of us can.” Kyne pointed ahead where he spotted a pile of disturbed earth. “Here’s our hole.”

The breech was a rough opening punched into the side of a low rise, tunnelling diagonally down into the mine below. A perfect runway for a four-legged creature to find their way out.

One look told him there was no doubting the Dust Dogs were responsible. Their paw prints were all over the crime scene. Either they were too stupid to cover their trail or they didn’t care. Odds on, this was a part of their message.

“Seems like our suspicions have evidence,” Kyne said, glaring at the dingo tracks.

Wally peered into the hole. “It’s only big enough for a bloke to get down there bent over. More than enough room for a wolf.”

Kyne joined him and assessed the shaft. “Rough work. Must’ve been out here for weeks.” If he’d been here, maybe he would’ve noticed them working, but he wasn’t and there was no use dwelling on it. “Stand back. I’m going to cave this thing in.”

“Your powers working okay again?”

He glared at the mechanic. “Don’t start.”

Wally shrugged, took Kyne’s pick, and moved back a few paces. At least they wouldn’t have to dig.

Kyne placed his hands on either side of the shaft and called his power. He felt the earth stir as it heard his call, and then the ground began to shift and move. Dirt and rock began to loosen, a crack forming in the ceiling of the tunnel from the bottom all the way to where he stood at the opening.

A whoosh of air burst out of the shaft as the rock caved in, buffeting Kyne back a step or two. Coughing, he asked the dust to settle, though it replied reluctantly. When the air was clear, the tunnel was well and truly blocked.

“Thanks, Kyne. Made my job a hell of a lot easier.” Wally wiped the sweat from his brow. “What are we going to do?”

“For now, I’ll help you reenforce the mine so this doesn’t happen again. It’ll mean shortening the runs, maybe installing some metal panels. Keep it contained.”

“I wasn’t talking about me.”

Kyne drew in a deep breath and swatted away a few stray flies.

“The Dust Dogs will be back, and soon,” Wally said.

“I know.”

“Drew is holed up at Blue’s,” the old man told him. “I reckon it’s time to have a good sit down with him and figure out some stuff.”

“That’s if he wants to talk.”

“We took the kid in when he showed up in nothing but rags. He’ll talk if he knows what’s good for him.”

“Drew is many things, but smart is not one of them,” Kyne said.

“Give the kid a little credit. Maybe he had a good reason.”

“You’re too forgiving, Wally.” He sighed and shook his head. “Trust goes both ways if he wants us to hide him from the dingoes.”

“And maybe you’re too quick to write the kid off.”

Kyne laughed and collected his pick. “Look who’s talking, old timer.”

Chapter 16

Eloise slept all through that day and half the night before she woke.

Vera’s magic had done wonders, healing her burned skin and hydrating her body. By the next day, she felt well enough to return to work at Hardy’s shop.

The witch had filled her in on the comings and goings, telling her that Kyne had come back but hadn’t wanted to wake her. He’d gone out with Wally, found the hole, and plugged it.

Eloise was a little disappointed she hadn’t been awake to see him, and the realisation frightened her. Out of all the people in Solace, he was the only person she’d confided in. Was it because he was like her or was it something else? She was too inexperienced to know which it was.

Outside Vera’s dugout, the sun was brighter than Eloise had remembered. Holding her hand up to shield her eyes, she looked around, her gaze falling on the scrub. Her expression fell, as did her heart.

“Eloise!”

She turned at the sound of Wally’s voice and waited in the shade as he jogged across the road.

He stood before her, his head lowered. “I just wanted to say that I’m really sorry for what happened.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Wally,” she replied. “You told me you’re not yourself when you change. If we’re blaming anyone, it’s the Dust Dogs.”

“I’ll make it up to you,” he went on, wringing his hands. “I swear it.”

“There’s nothing to make up for,” she said, but he didn’t seem to want to listen.

“In all my years, that’s never happened to me. Besides the first time I transformed, I’ve been careful about locking myself away on the full moon. Not taken any chances. I guess I got comfortable out here. Didn’t—”

“Wally,” Eloise said.

He coughed and looked at her. “Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it. I don’t blame you. It was my own stupid fault for running into the outback.” She sighed. “Maybe I should’ve run to Blue’s or Vera’s. Hindsight is twenty-twenty.”

“Where are you off to?”

“Back to work.”

“Already?”

“Thank Vera for that,” she replied. “I don’t fancy lying in her bed all day and I’m perfectly all right.”

“Can I walk you?”

Hardy’s shop was barely ten metres across the side road, but Eloise nodded.

“The part for your van will be on the next truck from the city,” Wally said. “We only get mail once every so often out here, but I got a rush on it for you.”

“Thanks.”

“So where are you off to next? Would you fancy staying around a bit longer? After everything that happened with Kyne…I thought you might stay a while.”

“I really don’t know,” she replied. “I never had a plan when I began travelling. I just drove in a direction I hadn’t been before. Solace… Well, I’m not sure about it.”

Wally ducked underneath the verandah of Hardy’s shop and wiped his brow, knocking his hat was askew. “Ah, well, you think on that, hey? We’d be glad to have you…” he coughed, “uh, despite everything.”

Eloise sent the mechanic on his way with a good-natured laugh and went inside.

When she walked into the workshop, Hardy swivelled around in his chair and grinned. “Hey! How are you feeling?”

“Embarrassed,” she replied.

“No, don’t be,” he told her. “It’s hard to know what to do in a situation like that until you’re in it.”

Eloise shrugged. “If you say so.”

“I know so.” He stood and handed her a bag full of potch. “You up for it?”

“Hardy… I…” She sighed and gathered her courage. “Are you sure you want me doing this? I mean, the money—”

“Don’t worry about the money,” he interrupted. “I wasn’t lying to you when I said this project was important to me. It may be a charity thing, but I can afford it. If I could hand Kyne three hundred and fifty grand inside a week, trust me when I say, twenty bucks an hour is nothing.”

Her eyes widened as she realised just how much money Kyne had pocketed for all that black opal. Maybe she should’ve pulled her finger out and gone back into Black Hole Mine after all.

Hardy chuckled and glanced towards the shopfront as the bell on the door rung. “Hold that thought. I’ll be back.”

Opening the bag of potch, she tipped some of the contents onto the counter and began picking out the best pieces. There was some of the black Kyne had brought in, and some of the usually creamy stuff.

“So, this is where the magic happens.”

Eloise turned around, finding Finn lingering in the workshop. He began poking at some tools, his eyes narrowing. There wasn’t much to like about the fae, but the threat level was low. He seemed the passionate type, not the kind of guy who’d try to rob the place while Hardy’s back was turned.

She looked past him. “Where’s Hardy?”

“Gone to get some shit, I dunno. He said something, but I wasn’t listening.”

Her eyebrows rose. “Does that happen a lot?”

“What?”

“The not listening part?”

“I see you’re feeling better,” he said with a smirk.

“Thanks to Vera’s magic. I’d be covered in Aloe vera for a month if it wasn’t for her.”

Finn snorted. His dislike of the witch was common knowledge, but what it was over was beyond her.

“We went out looking for you,” he said, “but it was Coen and the dog who found you. Or so they say.” He also disliked Drew, and Eloise knew it was for more than the shovel incident.

“I guess I should say thank you,” she said, ignoring his salty attitude. “So, thank you, Finn. To risk yourself for a stranger is… Well, I’m thankful. If you’d pass it onto the other fae, I’d be grateful. I’ve never met them or know where you live, so…”

Finn smirked at her, like he knew a secret she didn’t. “Sure. Maybe one day you’ll be worthy enough to visit my camp.”

“Your camp? Are you the leader?”

“I guess I am.” He bowed mockingly, his bluish-black dreadlocks falling forwards over his shoulders.

“So…” She picked up the bag of potch and began to pick through it. “Was there something I could help you with or are you waiting for Hardy to come back?”

Finn pulled up a chair and sat beside her, his silver eyes staring at her kind of freakishly. They were a weird greyish-blue with black flecks and had the illusion of becoming metallic when the light hit them the right way.

“Hardy wants me to watch you cut your precious opal,” he replied. “He also wanted me to keep my mouth shut, but I’m not into pleasing vampires.”

Eloise was sure Finn was only into pleasing himself, but who was she to care? Everything seemed like a game to him, so she decided to play along.

“So, what does fae magic do?”

“All kinds of things,” he told her. “Depends.”

“Okay… What can you do?”

He held up his arm and her heart skipped a beat as a snake slithered out of his tattered shirt sleeve and curled around his forearm. “Animals love me.”

“Erm…” she swallowed hard, “good to know.”

“And I can sense magic. All fae can feel its call, especially in this world, though it’s stronger in some more than others.” The snake coiled up his arm and draped itself around his neck. Eloise watched it closely, but Finn didn’t seem to care that he was making her uncomfortable. “She’s a death adder. She won’t hurt you unless I want her to.”

“If you’re trying to reassure me, it’s not working.”

Finn chuckled and leaned back in the chair. “So, get to polishing, little desert pea,” he drawled. “I’m just going to kick back with my snake and enjoy the air conditioning.”

Eloise snorted. What a euphemism.

So, if it was her magic they wanted to know about, then she’s better get to work. There were things she wanted to understand, too.

Selecting a nice piece of black that she suspected had a tiny flash of colour hidden inside, she turned on the first grinder, checked that the water was running, and began to cut. She angled the stone as the rough belt sanded away the rubbish stuck to the top and bottom of the slice, revealing clean potch underneath. Then she began shaping, smoothing the jagged stone into something a little more pleasing to the eye.

When she was done, she turned off the grinder and the workshop fell into silence.

Glancing at Finn, she asked, “So?”

“Your magic fires up the moment you touch that opal,” he told her. “It’s the same thing I see in Kyne.”

“I don’t feel anything.”

“That’s because it’s normal for you.”

“That doesn’t tell me anything I don’t already know.”

“Well…” He shrugged.

“Well what?”

“You’re different, but I think that’s because you have another talent. Kyne likes rocks, like the ones in his head. He can do other things, like you polishing that opal, but rocks are his favourite.”

“What’s my favourite?”

He shrugged as the snake began to slither under the collar of his shirt. “Dunno. You’re weird.”

“I’m weird?” she scoffed. “You’re the one with the deadly snake living in your smelly armpit.”

Finn laughed and kicked his feet up onto the sink. “Little mousey desert pea my arse.”

“Desert pea?”

“It’s a wildflower. Swainsona formosa. Look it up.”

“I don’t know what to make of you, Finn,” she told him. “Are all fae abrasive a-holes?”

“Abrasive… I like that.”

“It wasn’t meant to be a compliment.”

“You know what this is?” he asked, picking up a clump of his hair.

“Uh, hair?”

“Blue hair, smart arse,” he drawled. “Blue. Where I come from, all Shri’danann have coloured hair, but we are divided by warm and cool.”

Eloise had no idea what a Shri’danann was, but she was about to get a lesson no matter what she said.

“Shri’danann are magical fae. There are two races within—Seelie and Unseelie. Good and bad. Guess which one I am.”

“C’mon,” she drawled. “There’s gotta be a whole lot of grey in that black and white spectrum. Just because you’ve got blue hair doesn’t mean you’re a bad guy. You’ve just got a sour attitude. Anyone who loves hot chips as much as you do can’t be all bad.”

“I do like a good, deep-fried potato.”

Eloise snorted and ran her thumb over her shaped bit of potch. A fleck of purple shone as she tilted it towards the light. Needs a little more off the top…

Finn was watching her closely. “What’s going on with you and Kyne?”

“What do you mean?” Despite trying to keep her composure, the question made Eloise blush.

“You’re turning red, desert pea.”

“Stop calling me that.”

A lazy grin spread across his face. “I will if you admit you’ve got the hots for him.”

“Stop it. I hardly know the guy and you even less.”

“Kyne was gone for a long time,” Finn said. “He only came back once you showed up.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard about that.”

“You want to know why?”

She raised her eyebrows. “Do you know?”

Finn leaned close, relishing her rapt attention. “Do you?”

Eloise curled her nose. “No…?”

The fae snorted and stood. “Everything went arse up the moment he left. Vera tried to keep things together, but I wouldn’t trust her as far I could throw the witch. Then Drew blew in and brought those dogs with him. Then Kyne finally came back, but he’s all surly with the biggest death wish I’ve ever seen.”

“Death wish? I haven’t seen anything in him that screams reckless…” She frowned as her thoughts went to the cave-in.

“You trailed off,” Finn declared. “That means you know exactly what I’m talking about.”

“Why should I know anything? I’ve known you all for like two weeks.”

“You’re an elemental.”

“So?”

“Pfft, whatever.” He plucked a brown and white feather out of his hair and offered it to her.

She narrowed her eyes at it. “A feather?”

“I think you’re going to need it more than me,” he replied. “Those Dust Dogs aren’t done with Solace.”

She twirled the white and brown feather in her fingers. “What can a feather do against a bunch of bikers?”

Finn shrugged. “Coen gave it to me after I was thumped in the head by Drew.”

“And?”

“And if Coen gives you something, you take it, desert pea.”

Eloise took the feather and slipped it into her shirt pocket. She’d find someplace safe for it later.

“So, what do you think’s going to happen now? With the Dust Dogs, I mean.”

Finn ran his hand over his face. “They’ll be back, and next time the message will be louder.” When he saw Eloise tense, he added, “Don’t you worry about it. You’re an innocent bystander. When your house on wheels is fixed in another week, you’ll be driving off into the sunset, which I don’t blame you for. You elementals can slip right into human society and live a normal life.”

Eloise grimaced and closed her fingers around the potch. Another week until the part arrived for her van, then… Then what? Now she knew the secret about her powers, she could learn how to stop screwing with people’s heads and have a normal life.

But after the things she’d seen in Solace, could she?

Finn kicked the sink, the bang making her jump. “Don’t think too hard, your head might explode. You want to stay, you stay. You want to go, you go. Solace isn’t a prison, little mouse. Not for you.”

She stared after him as he glided out of the workshop. The bell over the door rang and she looked down at the opal.

It just needed a little more off the top…

Hardy was leaning against the front of his shop, listening to the shrill silence of Solace when Finn came outside.

“That was fast,” the vampire remarked.

“I’m good, that’s why,” the fae drawled.

“And?”

“It all checks out,” Finn told him. “She knows what she’s doing now, though not quite how to control it. Seems to be getting better at spotting it.”

“Is that all?”

“Sure,” he drawled.

“C’mon, Finn. You’re Unseelie. There must be something you’re not saying.”

The fae rolled his eyes. “Just because I’m Unseelie doesn’t mean I’m a duplicitous a-hole, za’adei.”

Hardy sighed. “I know enough fae to understand you just called me something foul.”

Finn chuckled and picked at the dirt underneath his fingernails. “She likes rocks, but she’s not just using earth to guide her hand.”

“Then what?”

“Perception, but… There’s something else wound around her, but I’m not even sure it’s there.”

“Something else?”

“Something cold.”

Hardy frowned. He knew a lot about many things, but magic wasn’t one of them. Supernatural creature were often secretive about this history and the mechanics of their power, and for good reason. There were things about vampires—specifically how to kill one—even he wouldn’t tell his best friends.

“Whatever it is, it’s dormant,” Finn went on. “Buried so deep it’s nothing but a prop for her other abilities. Gives her a little extra kick. Don’t worry about it, old man. I’m not going to.”

“If you’re not worried, then I’m trusting you.” Hardy pushed off the wall, moving too fast for Finn to react, and shoved the fae against the wall.

“Hey,” Finn exclaimed, holding his hands up. “Give us a break, vampire.”

“I’m trusting you, Finn,” Hardy said, “but I can just as easily decide you’re untrustworthy.”

“Give it a rest. We’re on the same side.” He shrugged off the vampire and scowled.

“What else aren’t you saying?”

“Coen gave me a feather after Drew smashed me one. I gave it to her, though why you need to give a toss about it, is a story I don’t care for.”

“What’s it for?” Hardy wondered. Coen never gave people gifts unless they were needed for something. In fact, he couldn’t remember the last time the Indigenous man had given anyone anything.

“It was a tail feather from a wedge-tailed eagle,” the fae replied. “Coen’s always crapping on about some bloody eagle like it’s the creator of the universe. I figured if anyone needed it, it’s the little mouse. I didn’t want it. The thing didn’t match my colour scheme.”

“Not high fashion enough for you?”

“She’s here for another week,” Finn said, ignoring him. “It’ll help her and keep the seal all snuggly under the ground until she’s gone.”

“Help her how?” Hardy narrowed his eyes. “Finn.”

“Coen loves talismans. I figure it’s one, but I don’t want anything that doesn’t mix well with my own magic, thank you very much. Nature is one thing, but I’d prefer the nature of my own world.” And as a literal exile, Finn wasn’t going back any time soon.

Hardy eyed the fae. “All right, but one day you’re going to have to quit the attitude and admit you’re one of us.”

Finn grinned and backed away. “Never!”

When Hardy returned to the workshop, Eloise rolled her eyes.

“Finn’s a joy, isn’t he?” she drawled. “What’s the verdict?”

“On?” Hardy asked, raising his eyebrows. He noticed the tip of the feather poking out of her shirt pocket.

“I wasn’t born yesterday.”

He chuckled and rounded the table. Picking up a piece of the raw back opal he hadn’t begun working yet, he set it on her workbench.

Her eyes widened. “What’s that?”

“Raw black,” he replied. “For you.”

“You want to give me the rarest, most expensive bit of opal on the planet to cut?” She snorted and screwed up her nose. “Why?”

“Thank Finn,” Hardy replied. “He convinced me you were ready.”

This seemed to amuse her and she laughed. It was good to see the colour returning to her cheeks, and by colour, he meant a healthy flush, not raw sunburn.

Hardy pulled up a chair and tapped the side of the grinder. “Once you’ve cut that, I’ll teach you how to polish for real.”

“Really? I’m not a sure bet, you know.”

“Still thinking of leaving, hey?”

Eloise bit her bottom lip and picked up the opal. “Still want to give this to me?”

Hardy chuckled and switched on the grinding wheel, the noise drowning out her complaints. He trusted her…and in the end, he trusted she’d make the right decision for herself. If that was Solace, then so be it. He’d be glad to have her around.

Chapter 17

Eloise sat on the step of her van as the sun began to set.

She rolled the rock Kyne had given her around in her palm, her newfound senses playing over the minerals locked within the stone. In time she’d learn how to tell each apart, but right now, they were just different layers all mixed into one egg-shaped hunk.

Her toes buried onto the ochre dirt as she thought about the day she’d just had. Finn and his special way with conversation, Hardy and the black opal he’d trusted her with, and the feather. She’d pinned it to the grey felt headliner above the front seats, right beside the pin collection she’d begun all the way back to her first stop five years ago—Halls Gap, Victoria.

Five years of travelling in her motorhome. Five years of searching. More had happened in the last two weeks than in all that time. Nothing, then everything all in a hurry.

Recalling the ancient rock paintings she’d seen amongst the rocky crags of the Grampians National Park, she smiled despite all of it. Drawings of kangaroos, koalas, lizards, people, and birds. Maybe one of them was the great wedge-tailed eagle Coen had told her about.

“Bunjil,” she whispered.

A shadow fell over her and her heart skipped a beat when she saw Kyne lingering.

“Can I?” He nodded at the step beside her.

“Sure.”

Kyne took off his hat and lowered himself into the space beside her, leaning his elbows on his knees. The warmth of his body wasn’t unpleasant, despite the lingering heat of the early evening. She expected him to smell like dirt and sweat, but he smelled like the outback after a storm—that strange, unexplainable scent that came either side of the rains.

“I hear you went back to work today,” he said.

“Yeah.”

“I also hear Hardy graduated you to real opal.”

Eloise smiled and let out a small laugh. “Yeah. Some of your precious black.”

“You must have a gift.” He smiled, the rare gesture warming her insides.

“I’ve just shaped it. Hardy’s going to teach me how to polish tomorrow.”

Kyne let out a low whistle. “The old dog is teaching you all his tricks, eh? You must be special.”

Eloise’s smile faded.

“Opal mining is a secretive business,” he went on, “and I’m not just talking about the digging part. If Hardy is teaching you how to cut and polish, then that means he trusts you. Trust is the next most valuable thing than opal itself in this game.”

And here she was thinking Hardy just needed help for his charity project. Opal wasn’t the only thing being cut and polished around here, and Eloise wasn’t sure she liked it. Did they want her to stay that much? For the life of her, she didn’t know why.

Deciding to steer the conversation in another direction, she asked, “Where do you stay when you’re in town?”

“With Hardy. Sometimes at Blue’s.”

“Where does Hardy live exactly?”

“He’s got a place about a K up the side road past the shop,” Kyne told her. “Yet another dugout.”

“It’s cooler down there, huh?”

He nodded. “Just the right depth.”

Eloise mulled over it for a moment, deciding it’d get hotter the deeper the tunnels went, with the Earth’s core being partially molten and all. It was a fine line between keeping cool in summer and baking on a bed of lava.

“Why do you stay in Solace?” she asked. “Why does anyone? Surely there’s somewhere out there for all of you that isn’t in the middle of nowhere.”

He glanced at her. “What makes you ask that?”

“Finn mentioned something.”

“Ahh,” he said knowingly. “Finn.”

“He’s a special sort of person, isn’t he?”

“Special as in strange,” Kyne replied. “His world is different from ours. The fae don’t always understand our human ways and us theirs…but we try.” His expression turned serious as he looked towards the setting sun. “We stay here because we don’t have to hide who we are. We can be open and without fear.” He said it like it was a line he’d rehearsed. A line that was designed to placate. A line that hid more than it revealed. “Anyway, how are you feeling?”

“I’m fine. Vera’s magic—”

“That’s not what I meant.”

She snorted and dug her toes deeper into the dirt. If she was going to tell anyone, she supposed it would be Kyne. Not for obvious reasons, but because he hadn’t told anyone the things she’d confided in him after the mine collapse the other night.

“When I was out there, I… I saw things.”

“The kadaitcha,” Kyne murmured.

She nodded. “A shadow person in the dark. It was scary. Everything went silent, the animals, the wind…everything.”

“I’ve never seen one,” he admitted. “I don’t envy you.”

“There were lights, too.”

Kyne nodded. “Min Min. I’ve seen those.”

“I followed them.” She’d been fresh out of options at that point. Crazy lights in the middle of nowhere should’ve been a warning in itself, but she’d had nothing to lose. Staying put seemed like the worse choice. “But in hindsight, I probably shouldn’t have.”

Kyne didn’t seem to think so. “I think they led you towards Coen. The few times I’ve seen them, he appeared shortly after. Him and that bloody kangaroo that seems to follow him about.”

“Actually, it was the kangaroo who found me first.”

Kyne snorted and shook his head. “I don’t doubt it.”

She saw the animal in her mind’s eye. How it’d sat up on its tail and waited for her. Leading her.

Before that, Andante had found her and given her water—water that Eloise suspected had been the difference between reaching Coen and dying where she lay. But she’d woken up in the same place she’d fallen… The truth about the old woman was a puzzle that didn’t make any sense.

“I…” She second-guessed herself. What if he thought she was mad?

“There’s something else?”

Her fingers began to worry the rock in her hand. “It’s nothing.”

“Eloise, you can tell me anything.” Kyne turned slightly, edging himself around in the small space so he could face her. “Anything.”

She was sitting in a town in outback Australia that was teeming with supernatural creatures. Weird was the order of the day. Maybe it was okay to tell him.

She took a deep breath but couldn’t bring herself to meet his gaze. “I collapsed and blacked out, but when I woke, there was someone there. A woman.”

“A woman?” Kyne asked. “What woman?”

“An old woman. She said her name was Andante. We were in a cave. It was like she was living there. Bare bones kind of stuff. A fire, a makeshift bed, nothing modern. There were runes on the wall.”

“Runes?”

“Yeah, they looked like old Norse. You know, Viking kind of stuff.” He looked troubled and Eloise began to regret telling him. “She told me about the ocean that used to be here. Then the rivers. There was some other stuff, but I can’t really remember. It sounded like a warning. Like she was warning me about something…something about an ocean.”

Kyne was silent for only a minute, but it felt like half an hour. “Eloise, no one else lives out here. If there was an old woman living in a cave, we’d know about it.”

“I don’t know…” She lowered her gaze, feeling like a moron. “It felt real.”

“The outback has a way of making people see things,” Kyne told her. “It tests you.”

“Tests?”

“Yeah. Why do you think Coen is on a walkabout here of all places?”

Eloise frowned, more confused than ever. Andante had been so real, even though her memories of their conversation had become muddled.

“The part for your van will be here soon,” he said, an unmistakeable note of disappointment in his voice. Maybe she was misunderstanding. Wouldn’t be the first time.

“Yeah,” she replied. “Wally said it’s on the next truck from the city.”

“Where…” He coughed. “Where will you go next? North?”

She shrugged. Her travel plans usually consisted of working out where to park up and sleep for the night. The road took her in the direction of the next camp spot and that was it. Now that she understood she was an elemental, were there signs she could follow?

“Are there others out there?” Eloise asked. “Others like us?”

Kyne shrugged. “Maybe. Probably.”

“When you left… Was it to find them?”

He shifted awkwardly. “I went and… And I came back to Solace. That’s all.”

Eloise couldn’t blame him for not wanting to talk about it. Maybe he was just saving her the pain of the truth. Their elemental parents had dumped them as babies and that was bad enough, but she got the feeling he hadn’t discovered anything…because they didn’t want to be found.

Her hand tightened around the rock and she began to manipulate the layers inside it. At least, she thought that’s what she was doing.

“If I’d known back then, I wonder how my life would be different now,” she murmured. “I’d have parents who loved me, a good job, a home, friends, a future. Do I want those things? Did I ever? I don’t even know what it looks like. My only dream had been to wake up tomorrow because maybe—” She clamped her mouth shut, her throat burning with unshed tears. Blinking wildly, she tried to keep herself composed. The last thing she wanted to do was cry in front of Kyne…not that this was any better.

“Spoken like a true Exile,” he mused. “We all feel the same in our own way. How each of us came to be here is a different story, but we were all searching for something.”

“I’m beginning to wonder if I want to know the answers.”

“It depends on the question,” he murmured.

“Well, you are right about one thing.” She handed him the rock. “What I am was always there.”

Kyne’s eyebrows rose as he saw the egg-shaped rock resting in his palm. Hard white quartz flecked with veins of iron, clear crystal, and a speck of gold. “I’ll be damned.” He turned it over and over, his head shaking every so often. “Where in the world did you come from?”

She shrugged. “I’m just a traveller on a lonely road.”

Kyne looked at her, his eyes burning a deep ochre as his elemental power reached towards her…and before she knew it, he was kissing her. His mouth on hers, her mouth on his. Their power entwining. Her heart beat a fast, primal rhythm. His skin on hers. Her hand reaching out to touch his face. There was no fear, only desire. Trust.

Her first kiss was perfect.

Vera sighed as she stepped out into the light of a new day. After she’d kicked Drew out and Eloise had left, her place sure felt empty.

Walking around to the front of the Outpost, she jangled her keys in the pocket of her loose emerald green cardigan. She couldn’t believe Drew had come back. What had he expected her to do? Welcome him with a smile and open arms just because he ‘helped’ Coen bring Eloise back? It didn’t change the fact that he was hiding something from her…something that affected all of Solace.

Stepping up onto the verandah, she sighed. A package sat on the mat—a medium-sized beige cardboard box with a white shipping label, but she thought nothing of it—sometimes truckies left stuff on their way past—and stepped over it so she could unlock the door.

Grabbing the box, she turned on the lights one-handed and dumped it and her keys onto the counter. No sooner than she’d swept her frazzled hair out of her eyes, the bell rang.

Turning around, she saw Drew shuffling into the shop, his gaze on the floor.

“Hey,” he said.

“Drew, seriously. How old are you again?”

“Twenty-six.”

“That’s not what I meant!”

He ground his jaw and didn’t reply. Either he was being a stubborn arse again, or he genuinely didn’t know what to say. Vera knew his people skills left a lot to be desired—living as a dingo would do that to a person—but all he had to do was say so.

“I suppose you reckon I should be thankful you decided to man up and walk in here,” she said with a pout. “But that’s only the first step, you know.”

“I know I’ve got a few kangaroos loose in the top paddock,” he said, tapping his temple, “but I’m trying to do the right thing here.”

Vera crossed her arms over her chest and tapped her sandalled foot on the linoleum floor. “Which is?”

“Help you.”

Her eyebrows rose. “Help me? How is bringing the Dust Dogs down on this town helping me? Next time it won’t be a couple of postcards and a bottle of tomato sauce, Drew.”

“Take it out of my pay.”

“Oh, you think you still have a job here? Your delusions run deep.”

Drew shrugged.

“What did you steal from those dingoes?” she demanded.

His eyes narrowed. “I can’t tell you.”

“Why not?” she demanded.

Drew dragged his fingers across his lips and made a locking motion and threw away the invisible key.

Vera let out an exasperated cry. “I’m trying to help you, Drew! We all are! You can’t just go around smashing Finn in the head with a shovel and expect us to thank you for it!”

“I thought you hated the guy,” Drew said with a scowl.

“I dislike him,” she seethed. “I don’t hate him. Hate is a strong word, and you better believe it when you say it, Drew. Hate is an awful thing.”

“Didn’t helping Coen win me any points?”

“Don’t drag him and Eloise into this,” she retorted. “I know Coen and he’s too clever. Getting you to come back was one of his stratagems. The rest is up to you, but all I’ve heard so far is the same old shit.”

“Fine. I took something to protect all of you,” he hissed. “It’s better that you don’t know anything about it.”

“Where is it?”

“I buried it someplace where no one will ever find it.”

Vera snorted. That’s what he’d been doing when he clocked Finn with the shovel. It looked like he’d found a better place to hide his stolen goods.

“You know I can use magic to find it,” her eyes narrowed in warning, “or get the truth out of you.”

“Why can’t you just believe me!” Drew threw his hands into the air. “The first time in my life I try to do something good, and I get shit all over! What’s the point?”

“You’ve done nothing to earn the benefit of the doubt, Drew,” Vera fired back. “Nothing.”

“You’d trust Kyne in a heartbeat.”

“That’s because I know him,” she hissed. “I went out on a limb for you, Drew. You were a stranger who needed help. A stranger.”

His hands curled into tight fists and he trembled with anger. Vera turned her back on him, knowing that arguing would get her nowhere. Drew wasn’t talking and never would.

She sighed heavily and picked up the box cutter from the jar beside the till. “Maybe it’s time to admit Solace isn’t the right place for you,” she began, slicing open the tape on the package. “I can’t keep having the same argument with you.” She opened the box and pulled out a layer of bubble wrap. “I—”

Vera let out a blood-curdling scream as she saw what sat in the box. The pungent scent of decay filled the air and she recoiled, knocking the box to the floor. A severed dingo head rolled out, leaving a trail of congealed blood and wriggling maggots in its wake.

Drew reached out and pulled Vera away, stepping between her and the head.

She pinched her nose and closed her eyes “I-is it…?”

“It’s a wild dingo, not a shifter,” Drew replied, kneeling. There was a rustle as he grabbed the box and Vera opened her eyes as he shoved the head back inside.

She didn’t have to say it out loud, and neither did Drew. The package was a blindingly clear message from the Dust Dogs.

The next head that would roll was Drew’s.

“I’m telling Kyne,” she said.

“No,” Drew cried. “Please. I’ll fix it. This time it’ll stop, I promise.”

“I can’t do this anymore!” she cried, her hands shaking. “It has to stop right now! Drew, I—”

She held her breath and reached for a can of air freshener. Spraying the front of the shop with ‘ocean breeze,’ she tried not to burst into tears. She was tough, having been through her own fair share of troubles, but this was a whole new level…and none of it was her fault for a change.

Drew busied himself with cleaning up the mess, wiping the blood and maggots off the floor with a bunch of balled up tissues. “Just give me a day,” he said, laying the bubble wrap over the head in the box. “One day.”

Vera clutched the air freshener like a weapon. She didn’t have it in her to yell at him anymore. He looked defeated. The package had certainly scared her, but it’d changed something in the shifter, too.

“Twenty-four hours,” she conceded. “After that, I’m taking matters into my own hands. Witchcraft is more than potions and poetry, and I hope to whatever God lives in the sky that you’ll never live to see it.”

Drew picked up the package and his jaw tightened as he struggled with his own internal monologue.

“I think the words you’re looking for are thank you,” she told him with a scowl.

“Yeah, um… Thanks,” he muttered and pushed out the door, taking the foul box with him.

Vera sighed and sprayed a short, violent burst of air freshener after the shifter. If he wasn’t back by this time tomorrow, she was telling Kyne.

Chapter 18

Eloise sat at the grinding wheels in Hardy’s workshop, staring dreamily into space.

Romance had always been the last thing on her mind, considering what usually happened to people when she touched them. She’d made her peace with being solitary long before she’d bought her van, knowing any relationship would never end well. Until she’d met Kyne, that was.

They’d hung out last night, talking and watching the sunset. He told her about how he used his power to mine and she spoke about some of her adventures. They sat together in the front seats of her van as she pointed out all the pins on the headliner, rating all the places she’d been.

When the hour had become late, Kyne stayed over and they’d kissed a bit more, but that was it. It was just actual sleep after that. She hadn’t had the courage to admit he was her first anything, but she imagined he was smart enough to already know.

Finally becoming aware that she wasn’t alone, Eloise shook her head and looked up at Hardy. He was staring at her, his hazel eyes glinting in the lamplight. He wasn’t blinking, which weirded her out.

She curled her nose. “What?”

“You’re smiling.”

She felt her cheeks heat. “So?”

“It’s that loopy smile people get when they’re infatuated.” His grin widened. “Could a certain miner have something to do with it?”

Her flush deepened.

Hardy chuckled. “He didn’t come back last night.”

“It’s not… I’m not like that,” she told him.

“It wouldn’t matter if you were.” He pulled a chair over and picked up the opal she’d been working on. “God knows you both need something to smile about. Romance will do that to a person.”

Eloise chose not to reply, wanting to keep things casual between her and Kyne. While she was attracted to him—and not at all unhappy that he returned the sentiment—she wasn’t entirely sure what to do about it.

“This is a good cut,” the vampire said, peering at the opal. “A perfect circle.”

“That’s good?”

“A lot of opal is cut irregularly to keep as much colour as possible. The more uniform shapes are more sought after. It’s about the finished product, after all. We’re just a link in a long chain.”

“What comes next?”

“For this stone, it’s polishing. That’s where you’ll see the colours really come out and shine.”

Hardy spent the rest of the morning showing her how to use serum oxide and water with a felt wheel to polish the rough cuts she’d made. The stone was fixed to a post with wax, then buffed to a high shine. It was a long process of moving back and forth between the grinding wheels she was used to, so she could buff out imperfections and perfect the dome shape of the opal face.

Then, once she and Hardy were happy with the smooth shine, he taught her how to mount the stone face-down so she could shape the back. It was another round of grinding to create a flat back and a tapered edge that was important for the next stage of an opal’s life—jewellery. The edge had to be perfect to ensure a secure setting, but it was also the most difficult stage due to the accuracy and the softness of the stone itself.

Eloise’s elemental gift guided her hand while Hardy’s vampire senses helped his. Together, they managed to cut the piece of black opal into a fine, circular shape with little imperfection.

There was a small shard of sandstone along one edge, but if she chose to grind it out, the whole shape would change and they’d lose a lot of good colour correcting it. A perfect circle with a fleck of sandstone was more valuable than a stone with an irregular shape.

“No one will see that without some serious magnifying,” Hardy told her. “I can see it because I’m a vampire. You can tell it’s there by feel alone, I suspect.”

“It doesn’t change the value?”

“Not really. Any black opal is sought after. This is a fine piece, Eloise. Good work.”

She beamed, the pride she felt at creating something beautiful made her heart soar. “Can I do another one?”

“That keen, are we?” Hardy laughed and slipped the opal into a tiny plastic ziplock bag. “First, let’s think about lunch,” he added when her stomach gurgled.

Eloise had brought food with her, so they sat out in front of the shop on some deck chairs, shaded by the verandah.

As the vampire unwrapped his sandwich and began to eat, she watched him with an air of surprise. Sensing her gaze, he glanced at her.

“I thought…” she began uneasily.

“I don’t usually like to talk about my dietary requirements,” he told her. “It’s just like you imagine, I suppose. Everything works like it should, but I only eat food for enjoyment now.”

Eloise flushed and took a bite of her sandwich.

The low rumble of an engine echoed in the distance. Before long, a truck came into view. It wasn’t a huge road train like the one’s Eloise had seen tear past, but a smaller semi-trailer.

It slowed, turning the corner beside the opal shop, and then reversed into the bay behind the Outpost.

“That’ll be the post,” Hardy said. “And Vera’s monthly delivery.”

Eloise snorted, earning herself a wry grin from the vampire who certainly knew a little about women to get it.

“I bet Wally’s order is on there,” he said, raising his eyebrows.

“The mythical head gasket,” she murmured. “I still don’t know what one looks like.”

Hardy chuckled and nodded towards the Outpost. “You’re about to find out.”

Eloise left the vampire to the rest of his lunch and went to see what all the excitement was about. The driver was already unloading pallets with a battered jack, using a hydraulic lift to get them out the back of the trailer.

“Eloise!” Vera called. “There’s a couple of boxes for Hardy, and one for Wally. Would you be a darl and run it over to the garage? I reckon it’s your head gasket.”

Eloise’s heart did a flip-flop as she picked up the box beside the back door. It was finally here.

“Thanks,” she said to the witch. “Do you need help with this?”

She sighed dramatically as another pallet stacked full of boxes rolled into the back of the Outpost. “I wouldn’t say no. I’ve got ten of these to unpack.”

“Drew still hasn’t come to see you?”

Her eyes narrowed and Eloise took it to mean no.

“Is everything okay?”

Vera nodded. “Yeah, I’m just having a…day.”

“If Hardy can spare me, I’ll be back.”

Leaving Vera to oversee the unloading of her order, Eloise took the package across the road to Wally’s.

Kyne was inside the garage with the werewolf when she went in and she smiled shyly at the sight of him.

“Hey,” she said, handing the package to Wally. “This was on Vera’s delivery truck for you.”

Kyne frowned as the old mechanic cut open the tape on the box. Eloise felt a pang in her gut and looked away.

“It’s the gasket,” Wally said, taking a Fiat-branded box out of the package. “I’ll get started in the morning.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Eloise told him, already dreading the invoice at the end of it. “I’ll drive her around when you’re ready.”

Kyne reached for her hand. “Hey, you got a minute?”

“Yeah.” She slipped her fingers around his, the gesture still foreign, but not unwelcome.

They went out the back, the sun warming her bare legs. She was getting one hell of a tan, especially after the sunburn she’d gotten when she was lost…but it was rather uneven.

Kyne’s expression changed the moment the door closed. “You’re leaving.”

“I never said I was.” Her heart twisted as another reality came crashing down on her.

“You never said you weren’t, either.”

Remembering what he’d said to her when she was laying exhausted in Vera’s bed, she shivered. We could be your family.

“I don’t know what to do,” she whispered.

“You belong here, Eloise,” Kyne murmured. “You belong with us.”

She looked up at him. “Do I?”

“Why not? You’re supernatural, just like the rest of us.”

Figuring out what she was had been the only thing keeping her going, but now she knew. What came after that had never crossed her mind because deep down, she believed she’d never know. Why hope for a future that was forever out of her grasp?

“This isn’t the life I imagined for myself,” she managed to say. “I’m attached to my van. My travels. I don’t know if I—”

“It’s not the life I imagined, either,” Kyne hissed, the hurt clear on his handsome face. “But it’s good to know it’s not good enough for you.”

“Kyne, that’s not what I meant.”

“You think it’s easy for me to open up to you?” he asked.

“And you think it’s easy for me?” she cried. “I never kissed anyone before. I couldn’t—” Eloise’s cheeks flared hotly as the words died in her throat.

Kyne only seemed to become angrier. “I’m the only person you can touch without frying, so you thought you’d take the opportunity, huh?”

“How dare you!” she shrieked as a wave of unbearable anger welled inside her. “If I’d known you were so nasty, I never would have trusted you!”

“Then get in that piece of shit van and drive away,” he raged. “Drive away and never come back. Then you’ll be a true elemental.”

Eloise was shocked at his sudden turn. Her throat tightened as she stood there, taking the hit with well-practiced silence.

Kyne stormed across the yard and wrenched open the door of his ute. Climbing inside, he slammed it shut and revved the engine. Then he peeled away, the tires spinning and sending red dirt and dust into the air.

Wally appeared at the rear of the garage, a rag in his hands, and stared after Kyne. “What in the bloody hell?”

Eloise turned away, her bottom lip trembling as she struggled to hold in her tears.

“What’s going on?” Hardy’s voice echoed across the yard and she groaned.

“They had a fight, I think,” Wally said to the vampire. “The part came for the van.”

“And he shouted at her?”

Wally grunted.

“I’ll bloody kill him,” Hardy seethed.

“Don’t.” Eloise wiped her tears on the arm of her shirt. “Leave it.” The two men were silent as she turned around. “Both our elemental parents abandoned us,” she went on, trying to hold onto her emotions. “It’s a sore point.”

Hardy narrowed his eyes and looked in the direction of Black Hole Mine.

Wally scratched his head. “He never did say what happened when he left.”

Eloise shrugged and waved them off, her suspicions rising. She was beginning to believe Kyne knew more about the elementals than he was letting on.

Following Hardy’s gaze across the outback, she sighed. Kissing wasn’t all it was cracked up to be if this was what came afterwards.

Drew huddled in the scrub, his dingo eyes surveying the camp below.

The Dust Dogs had set up shop in a hollow, the curve of the low rising hills sheltering their camp from the wind. A single dirt track led towards the highway—it was rough going but didn’t stop them from driving in and out with their four-wheel drives and motorbikes.

The perfect spot for a bunch of dingo shifters was in the middle of nowhere—no unwanted visitors and no law looking in.

The camp consisted of a dozen patched together shelters made of a mix of wood and corrugated iron. There were several water tanks, two banged up caravans that’d seen better days, the rusted-out shell of a car, several metal drums that served as fire pits, and various other bits of junk, tools, and machine parts.

Drew had run with the Dust Dogs for a few months before realising they were into more than just petty crime, but by then, it was too late to get out with his nose clean. He knew too much.

It wasn’t just theft they were into, but hunting. They’d harass travellers, stockmen on the neighbouring cattle station, livestock, and anyone and anything that came onto their territory, which was just a baseless claim of land that had no standing with the law. The Dust Dogs answered to a natural law, not those handed down by humans. That’s what made them dangerous. They were armed, savage, and wild. Solace didn’t stand a chance if they decided to ride into town, guns blazing.

Drew watched the camp for an hour, counting the dingo shifters, watching for familiar faces, and looking for clues. So far, they’d just made threats and it hadn’t come to blows, but it wouldn’t stay that way for long. That severed head they’d delivered to Vera was the final straw.

What he couldn’t quite work out was how much they knew about the thing he stole. Coen had made sure Drew knew how important it was, but did they?

He looked up as he sensed movement behind him, and his dingo eyes took in the large man and the cricket bat in his hands.

Shit.

“You should never have come here, mate,” the Dust Dog said before he swung.

The bat slammed into Drew’s head, sending him flying. He rolled down the hill, his body smashing and scraping against rock as the barbed spinifex grass tore open his flesh. Coming to a stop, his paws scrambled, but before he could scurry away, another man grabbed him, his hands clamping around his snout as someone else grabbed his middle.

Drew thrashed, but no matter how hard he struggled, they wouldn’t let go.

“Get him in the cage!” someone bellowed.

More Dust Dogs emerged from the camp, coming to see what all the noise was about. As Drew was flung into a metal cage, they shouted and catcalled in triumph.

The blow to his head loosened his grip on his dingo shape and he was forced to change, his bones snapping and elongating as the Dust Dogs hollered and howled. The cage was small, the closeness of the rusted metal forcing him to draw his knees up underneath his chin. Naked, Drew shivered, his cuts stinging as his flesh settled over his human body.

The men grabbed the bars of the cage and shook it violently, howling and snapping at him like rabid beasts. He hit his head and his wounds split open even further, but he took the pain without a sound.

How had he ever run with these dingoes and thought it was right? Being a lone dog was better than this pack of animals, despite the gaping hole in his chest. At least he could hold onto his humanity.

He thought about Vera and the other Exiles in Solace as the Dust Dogs harassed him. When he didn’t show up in the morning, Vera would just think he was breaking yet another promise and write him off. No one was coming, but it didn’t matter. If he died, he’d take his secret to his shallow grave and the Dust Dogs would never recover the key.

“Shut the hell up!” a familiar voice roared. “Get the bloody hell back!”

Drew looked up as an ugly, fat shadow fell over the cage. The last man he ever wanted to see was glaring down at him with unmasked hatred.

Craig Roth—the alpha of the Dust Dogs—carried an air of danger that sent an unexpected wave of fear through Drew’s chest. Standing at over six-foot-four, bald, and heavily tattooed, Roth was a wall of muscle and had the unwavering loyalty of every dingo in the camp. He was bloodthirsty and heartless and would tear Dew apart to get what he wanted…no matter what shape he took.

In other words, Drew was up shit creek without a paddle.

It was that moment he realised he was never going to fix anything. His entire life had been one screw up after another, and now he’d dragged the Exiles into it. The one time he’d tried to do the right thing, he’d done it all wrong. Finn was right about him. Drew was dumb as dog shit.

“I knew if we waited long enough, you’d come crawling back,” Roth said in his gravelly voice. He knelt in front of the cage, his brown eyes burning through his prey. “One little shove in the right direction and your dumb arse would try and do something heroic to save that witch whore you love so much.”

Drew said nothing. He was definitely not in the position to push his luck.

“Screw her yet?” the alpha asked. “Shove her face down and—”

Drew snarled, lunging at the bars. He stretched his arms through the gaps, clawing at Roth, but he was just out of reach.

The Dust Dogs laughed, shouting foul things and making lewd gestures.

Roth held up his fist and they fell silent. “You can stop all of this, Drew. We took you in when the other packs turned their backs on you.”

“What other packs?” Drew snarled. “There are no other packs.”

“There’s plenty,” Roth told him. “But the one you’re looking for…” He smirked and licked his lips. “Have you ever tasted dingo blood?” Drew said nothing, grinding his teeth. “When you fight and tear another shifter apart in the heat of the hunt?”

Drew’s parents were dead. They were dead and his grandfather had been the last of their pack until he’d died of old age. His pack was gone. His gaze narrowed as Roth smirked.

“You’re not too bright, kid, but you’ll get it eventually.”

Drew began shake, his fury threatening to bring out his dingo side. His pack. His family. The Dust Dogs were responsible. They’d killed them all.

He lunged at the bars again, his shoulder scraping against metal as he reached for Roth. He’d tear him apart.

“Leave him here to fry,” Roth snarled. “Tonight we’ll have a proper chat. We’ll settle it with pack rules.”

The men hollered and high-fived each other, clearly excited by the news. As they backed off, a couple of men rattled Drew’s cage as a parting gift, sending him into a frenzy. But nothing he did would get him out until Roth ordered it. The alpha’s word was law.

Even if Drew gave the Dust Dogs what they wanted, he was as good as dead, and Solace would be next. His only chance was to fight.

He breathed deeply, his chest heaving. When the sun set, he would face Roth in the circle, and he’d need every scrap of energy he could get.

Chapter 19

Vera was in a spin when Eloise walked into the Outpost.

Boxes and plastic shrink wrap littered the aisles, and she was hurrying back and forth, in and out of the stockroom. The truck had long gone by this stage, and she was left to deal with the delivery on her own.

Eloise frowned, the gash Kyne had opened in her heart still raw and bleeding. At the thought of him, she felt a fresh wave of frustrated tears. Then she breathed deeply and instantly regretted it.

“Something smells funky in here,” Eloise said, wrinkling her nose. “Is one of the freezers on the fritz?”

“Are you serious?” Vera declared from the aisle. “I thought I’d gotten rid of the smell. I’ve dumped an entire can of air freshener in the place. It should smell like an ocean breeze.”

“An ocean breeze downwind of a sewer,” she told her. “Is there a magical solution?”

The witch shrugged. “I could cook something up, but I don’t like to rely on magic too much.” Emerging from a stack of boxes, she fussed behind the counter and pulled out packet of incense and a wooden holder shaped like an elephant. “This’ll have to do.”

“Please don’t tell me that’s patchouli.”

“What do you have against patchouli?” She thought about it for a moment and laughed. “Well, it’s not, but it’s the next best thing. Sandalwood. Good for protection and exorcisms.”

Eloise didn’t want to know what she was exorcising.

When she’d lit the incense, Vera paused and peered at her. “What’s wrong?”

Eloise flushed. “Nothing.”

“Your mascara is smeared.”

“I got something in my eye.”

“Both of them?”

“Yeah.” Eloise shrugged. “It’s dusty out there.”

“You’re a terrible liar.” The witch snorted. Her rings clacked together as she waved her hands at the burning incense, sending the thin tendril of smoke billowing across the front of the shop.

Eloise knew enough about Vera to know the witch wouldn’t let up until she had the truth, so she caved to save herself the pressure. “Kyne and I had a fight just now. He took off to his mine, I suppose.”

Vera’s expression softened. “Ah, that parcel was for your van.”

“Wally’s starting on the engine tomorrow.”

“He’s a pretty good mechanic… Fast, too.”

“Kyne asked me to stay. Hardy wants me to as well, and Wally…” She was torn between the call of the open road and the friends she’d made in Solace. They were her friends, right?

Vera was lost in thought for a moment. “Kyne’s been helping you with your powers, right?”

Eloise nodded.

“Then I’m assuming he told you how you came to be. About your parentage?”

“Yeah.” She nodded again.

“And how do you feel about it?”

“I’m more concerned with my adopted parents, whose brains I accidentally fried.”

Vera sighed and looked out the window, but the road was empty of travellers and townsfolk. They were alone. “When Kyne left, he told me we was going to find his father.”

Eloise hesitated. “His…elemental father?”

“That was all he ever told me. He was gone a couple of months, but when he finally came back…” She didn’t have to say it out loud. He was different. “Whatever he found wasn’t good. He went out to that mine of his, his powers lost, and dug in that mine for weeks. Mining is dangerous with the right equipment, but on his own without magic…?” Vera shook her head. “He was an insufferable bastard. Grumpy, indifferent, didn’t want anything to do with us.”

Eloise frowned, her heart heavier than ever. Kyne’s powers had only come back when she’d arrived. He’d saved them from the cave-in, discovered a treasure trove of black opal, and had found purpose again. Now her van was on the verge of being fixed, giving her a way to leave Solace. Chuck in the stuff about his father and it was no wonder he’d blown up at her.

“Why wouldn’t he tell me?” she wondered.

“Don’t take it personally,” Vera replied. “He probably doesn’t want to disappoint you.” Her expression soured. “Besides, he hasn’t even tried to kiss me.”

Eloise spluttered and her eyes winded. “How…?”

“An educated guess,” the witch said with a smirk. She picked up the incense stick and swirled it through the air. “Can you still smell that stink?”

“Uh…” Eloise sniffed, “not as much.”

“Good. It reminds me of Drew and his wet dingo stench.”

Eloise let out a gasp and slapped her hand against her forehead. “I can’t believe I’ve been chewing off your ear about my problems and I haven’t even asked you how you feel about Drew.”

Vera shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. I needed a distraction from him and his issues.”

Eloise hesitated, but her curiosity got the better of her. “What are his…issues?”

“He got messed up with the Dust Dogs and—” Vera pursed her lips. “You know he took something from them, right?”

“Yeah,” Eloise said. “I heard.”

“He said he did it to protect us. Solace.”

“Why?”

“That’s the million-dollar question,” the witch drawled. “Along with ‘what’.”

Eloise was confused as hell. “What could a bunch of biker dingoes want out here? Air conditioning?”

“In the supernatural world, it could be anything,” Vera replied. “Anything at all.” She pointed down the aisle before Eloise could ask anything else. “You here to help?”

“Yeah, Hardy doesn’t need me.”

“Thank the Lord,” the witch exclaimed and headed back down the closest aisle. “I’ve put out the boxes where they need to be put on the shelves. Just shove them on there, but make sure to put the new ones in the back. I need to sell the old stuff first before they go out of date.”

“Got it.” Eloise picked up a box, pressed the edge in, and tore the tape from the cardboard. Putting the canned soup onto the shelf, she was careful to rotate the new stuff to the back, but her thoughts were muddied with Kyne and the imminent repair of her van.

There was no way of knowing if she could fix the damage she’d done to her adopted parents’ minds. Besides, she had no roots. No home, no place to return to. She lived wherever the road took her, which wasn’t a bad place to be, but it sure could get lonely sometimes.

Could Solace be her home? What about Kyne? Eloise wasn’t sure he would want to talk to her after their argument, but if she wanted to try to have a life and a relationship, she couldn’t back down.

Eloise would have to suck it up and go out to Black Hole Mine.

Drew was let out of the cage after the sun had set. Darkness wrapped the edges of the Dust Dog’s camp like a dense blanket, the glow from their fires blotting out the stars.

He was dragged naked, burned, and bleeding as the dingo shifters circled the clearing in the centre of the patchwork buildings. They’d lined their motorcycles up in a large ring, their headlights on high beam, casting long, menacing shadows.

Drew was shoved down and he landed hard. Pushing up onto his knees, he spat dirt as a pair of bare feet stood before him.

“Get up,” Roth snarled.

The Dust Dogs circled them, shouting for blood. Some of them were human and some in their dingo shapes, but all were howling just the same.

Drew glared up at Roth and rose, his body screaming in pain. The alpha was shirtless, the only thing he wore was a pair of battered blue jeans. His chest was covered in scars that bore a warning for what was to come. The guy had fought for leadership and it’d almost cost him his life—his puckered flesh a reminder of how far he was willing to go to keep it.

“We can make this hard, easy, or fun,” Roth said. “Your pick.”

Drew knew the fun choice wouldn’t be a good time for him, neither would the easy. The hard, even less. The only way out of this was to challenge for leadership, a fight he sorely wanted to win, but they’d made sure he wasn’t fit for it. He needed a miracle, but Vera wasn’t expecting him until morning. For the first time since he’d met the witch, he hoped she’d break her promise.

“Yeah, nah,” Drew drawled, wiping his crusty bloodied nose with the back of his hand. “I’m good.”

“We know about Solace, boy,” Roth rasped. “We know what they’re protecting.”

“And what’s that?”

“The seal.”

Drew snorted. “It’s a bloody rock.”

Roth’s smirk widened. “The real prize is underneath it.”

“Then why haven’t you taken Solace?” he asked with a sneer. “What are you so afraid of?”

The alpha snarled and flexed his fingers.

Good going, moron, Drew thought. Go and insult their testosterone levels. You’re just aching for a bullet.

Still, they hadn’t taken over Solace, so they had to be afraid of something. Was it Hardy and his vampire strength? Kyne, the elemental? Wally was more powerful as a wolf. Hell, was it Vera? It didn’t matter anyway. Without the key, the seal was useless, and Drew was the only one who knew where it was. He’d stolen it, after all.

“He’s made his choice!” Roth roared to the Dust Dogs. “It’s time for fun, boys!”

Drew tensed as Roth’s fist flew at his face. Knuckles collided with his left eye socket and stars prickled his vision as he fell to the ground. Blood dripped from his split eyebrow and stung his eyes, but he refused to make a sound.

“Where is the key?” Roth shouted, kicking Drew. “Tell me!”

He curled in on himself, taking the hits. He bit his tongue so hard, blood seeped down the back of his throat.

Roth’s feet kicked up dust as he lunged, fisting a hand into Drew’s hair. “You want to be hunted? Huh? If you don’t tell us where you hid the key, I will drag this out for days. We will hunt you across this burned land and tear you apart.”

Drew laughed, his teeth slick with blood. The Dust Dogs had killed his entire pack when he was no more than a pup, and now he was laying broken at the alpha’s feet. He had nothing to lose, nothing at all.

Roth shook him. “What’s so funny?”

“I challenge you,” he said, causing the Dust Dogs to fall silent. “I challenge you to a hunt.”

The alpha pushed Drew back to the ground, his eyes flashing amber in the light.

“You win, you get to kill me. I win,” he looked around at the pack, “I get justice.”

The Dust Dogs began to laugh, their bellows carrying through the silence as the two men stared down one another—Drew on his back, naked and bloody, and Roth, the epitome of raw power.

“Shut up!” Roth held up his fist to silence them. “You got yourself a deal, boy.”

Roth’s power pressed down on him and Drew cowered, his dingo shape fighting to break free. He didn’t have the strength to hold out against the will of an alpha and he transformed, his bones snapping and growing, his skin sprouting fur, his broken nose elongating.

“It’s time to hunt.” Roth’s cry was answered with a roar and a howl from the pack.

Whining, Drew stood on all fours, his tongue lolling. His senses filled with the stench of his own blood, the coppery tang sickening.

Roth kicked him in the ribs, sending him flying across the circle.

“Run dog!” the alpha shouted as he began to shift. “Run!”

Drew dragged himself through the scrub, his body bleeding and broken. He heard the howls of the Dust Dogs behind him as they transformed, their cries echoing across the open sky.

Shit. He should’ve known Roth had no plans on holding up his end of the bargain. The entire pack was on his tail.

Howls echoed across the outback as the Dust Dogs herded him towards an unknown end. He ran, his pain fading to a dull throb as the fight for his life took over.

Which way was Solace? If he could make it far enough, he had a chance to get some help. If Hardy was outside, he would smell the blood. If he could make it to the Outpost, maybe Vera could fend the dingoes off with magic.

No. He couldn’t lead them there.

Drew’s paws thudded on the hard-packed earth as he fled through the wilderness. No matter how much he wanted to, he couldn’t go back to the town. He had to face Roth or die trying…and dying would be the hardest part of all. They’d keep him alive, torturing and tormenting him until he gave up the location of the key. No, dying wouldn’t be easy at all.

He thought of his parents, their memory a faded image in his mind. A woman with long flowing blonde locks and a man with short, ruddy brown hair. Running with them as a pup. Their scent. Their warmth as they’d slept under the stars as dingoes.

It was then that he realised he’d been running his entire life. Never stopping to face the music because it was too hard or too painful. Running was only putting off the inevitable.

It was time to stop.

Drew stopped on the edge of a low hill and looked down the slope. His ears pricked as he heard a dingo approach, the sound of claws scraping on stone and the low, predatory growl he recognised as Roth’s.

Turning, Drew saw the glint of eyes in the darkness and he tensed, his breath heaving.

He’d seen Roth in his dingo shape many times. The alpha was the largest dingo he’d ever seen, even compared to other bulky human men. He was broad-chested and powerful, with the jaws to match.

Roth growled as he emerged into the moonlight, his lips curling back to show his teeth—incisors and fangs double the length of his own. His eyes shone amber in the darkness—the one thing that betrayed his supernatural nature to the world.

It was now or never. One last ditch attempt at saving Solace and his own life.

Drew leapt, colliding with Roth, and they rolled down the hill in a mess of blood and fur. He snapped at the alpha all the way to the bottom, kicking and scratching with his claws, anything to get the upper hand. He forgot his pain and his heart swelled with adrenaline.

The dingoes landed in a heap in a small clearing and began to fight. Drew sank his teeth into Roth’s neck and shook his jaws, clamping down as hard as he could. Blood filled this mouth as he tore flesh, sending Roth into a frenzy.

They thrashed, rolling, growling, biting, oblivious to the world around them. If the other Dust Dogs had caught up, Drew didn’t know. He was lost to the taste of blood, the fight for his life igniting every primal sense his shifter power instilled in his animal form.

They broke apart and Drew staggered, his vision blurring. His torn flesh stung as his blood flowed freely onto the ground.

Roth stood before him, his neck bleeding freely, and threw up his head and howled. The sound echoed through the stillness, and a moment later, dozens of cries answered from within the night.

Drew lowered his head and growled, his knees buckling. To the death. His muscles tensed as his last remaining shred of power coiled in his haunches, and as he was about to leap, a shadow burst soundlessly from the darkness.

It collided with Roth, the sickening crunch as shadow pounded against flesh made Drew recoil. The dingo rolled across the clearing and came to a stop. The alpha let out a whimper but didn’t get up, his dingo chest heaving.

Drew limped, then collapsed, the last shred of strength failing him as he realised what had found them.

Kadaitcha.

He whined softly, his eyes focusing on the man-shape standing over him. He was done. He was tired. They’d never find the key now. He’d done everything he could.

So, he closed his eyes.

Chapter 20

Vera stared at the geological map on her coffee table, the quartz crystals holding the edges humming softly with subdued magic.

A whole afternoon of putting away stock hadn’t calmed her nerves a single bit. Usually, the act of organising a new delivery, putting away the invoices in her colour-coded filing system, and entering all the numbers into her spreadsheets made her Virgo heart sing, but not today.

She promised she’d give Drew twenty-four hours, but she was worried. Her magic fizzed in her fingertips, popping and crackling, aching to be released.

“Damn that bloody dingo,” she hissed.

Snatching up her quartz pendulum, Vera wrapped the chain around her fingers and held it over the map. Calling on her magic, she let the crystal swing, focusing on the shifter. He better be out there and not in a shallow grave.

Magic hummed through her fingers, the clear quartz tinting lavender. Purple was the colour of her coven, or what used to be. It’d been a long time since she’d met another witch with the same hue. There was gold, white, blue, green, pink, and orange magic…but no more purple.

The pendulum slowed and shot towards the map like a magnet. Vera’s magic sparked, then the room went dark. Stars shone overhead, a shadow loomed, and every inch of her body stung with a pain she’d never felt before. Drew was in trouble. Serious trouble.

The crystal shattered, bringing light back into her dugout with a crack. Vera gasped and jerked backwards, the pieces of quartz falling over the map. It wasn’t a precise location, but it was in the vicinity of the Dust Dogs camp.

Oh God, Drew…

Something tickled her upper lip, and when she wiped the back of her hand across her nose, it came back wet with blood. There was other magic at play. Magic in the night…

Vera shook her head. It didn’t matter what paranormal crazy was lurking in the outback, Drew was out there, and he was hurt.

Leaping off the couch, Vera shoved through the beaded curtain, stormed up the stairs, and into the night.

Thankfully, the lights were still on at the back of Hardy’s shop. Vera ran across the road, her sandals filling with dirt and rocks that dug into the soles of her feet, but she was too panicked to care.

She rattled the door to the workshop, but it was locked. Banging her fists against the glass, she shouted, “Hardy! Open up! Hardy!”

The door wrenched open and she almost fell into the vampire’s arms.

“Vera,” he exclaimed. “What’s wrong? You’re…bleeding.”

She wiped her nose as Eloise appeared behind him, her eyes wide.

“Drew’s missing,” Vera said in a hurry. “The Dust Dogs sent me a…package. He went… He went…”

Hardy looked troubled as he brought her inside. “Take a breath,” he said as Eloise brought over a chair and handed her a wad of tissues. The vampire made her sit. “What package? What was in it?”

Vera’s gaze met the vampire’s as she dabbed her bloodied nose. “A severed dingo head.”

“The smell…” Eloise covered her mouth with her hand.

Vera shuddered. “Drew made me promise to give him a day, but…” She fanned her face with her hands, trying to stem the flow of unexpected tears. “I used magic to check on him and he’s out there somewhere, running. He’s hurt bad. I can sense his pain, but I don’t know where he is.”

“When did he leave?”

“He went off this morning, promising to fix everything,” Vera said. “I should’ve stopped him, but I was too angry.” She grabbed Hardy’s forearms, her heart beating wildly. “He went to take on the Dust Dogs himself. I-I should’ve…” She choked back a sob. “I was so stupid.”

Hardy glanced at Eloise. “We’re going to need help. Can you go see Kyne?”

The elemental shifted uncomfortably. “I don’t know the way, I…”

“Take my car,” the vampire told her, throwing her the keys. “Black Hole Mine is down the track by the water tank. Keep driving until you get to the end and you’ll find him.”

Eloise’s hands shook, but she nodded and looked to Vera. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Then she pushed through the back door and was gone.

“Hardy…”

“We’re going to find him,” he told her. “He’ll be okay.”

“The thing he took—” The vampire hushed her, but she dug her fingernails into his forearms. “He said he’d taken it to protect all of us. That keeping it a secret was in our best interests.”

Hardy shook his head in resigned disbelief. “That damn kid.”

“Hardy,” she pulled him close, “I think it has something to do with the seal. There isn’t anything else it could be.”

The vampire frowned.

“It had to happen sooner or later,” she murmured. At least they knew their enemy…this time.

Hardy placed a reassuring hand on the witch’s shoulder. “Then we better find him before the Dust Dogs do.”

Eloise gripped the steering wheel of Hardy’s 4WD, her heart thumping a wild rhythm.

The headlights were the only thing that lit the pitch-black of the outback, and the beams bobbed as she bounced down the rutted-out track.

It felt sketchy as, only second to running into the outback, without water, to escape a werewolf.

She’d told herself she’d find her way out to Black Hole Mine in the morning when there was light, when she wasn’t as angry or upset with Kyne. She’d come find him when she’d calmed down and when she’d figured out what to say. There were half scribbled words in her journal that made no sense, and the twisting feeling in her heart made even less.

Even spending all afternoon with Vera hadn’t cleared things up in her mind. Staying or leaving, liking or…loving. But none of it mattered now; Drew was in trouble. Eloise didn’t know the shifter, only having spoken to him twice, and briefly at that, but he’d been there with Coen when she’d stumbled into their camp when she was lost. He’d helped, so it was only right that she did the same for him.

Eloise tightened her grip on the wheel as the track began to thin out. She’d help the dingo shifter regardless. It was the decent thing to do.

The first signs of Black Hole Mine began to filter through the scrappy trees and she slowed the car. The hoist that carried the bucket out of the shaft, the glow of a campfire, the shadow of a ute. Then she made out the shadow of a man sitting by the fire as she braked.

Kyne didn’t get up. He couldn’t see her behind the wheel with the headlights on. Maybe he thought it was Hardy, or maybe he could sense her elemental blood and just didn’t care. His kiss still lingered on her lips a day after she’d first felt it, and it made her feel worse. What if this was over before it’d even begun?

Eloise turned off the key in the ignition and the dial for the headlights, plunging the track into shadow. The engine clicked as it began to cool, and she hopped out before she lost her nerve.

Kyne tensed as she approached, his face half-lit by the firelight. “What are you doing out here in the dark?”

“Hardy sent me.” Eloise flushed, her words thick on her tongue. “I was going to come tomorrow, but there’s trouble. Drew—”

“Is that all?” Kyne jerked to his feet, the camp chair falling backwards. He’d clearly hadn’t had enough time to cool off, but she hadn’t, either.

“Kyne, don’t.”

“So I overreacted,” he said. “I’m hotheaded. I think I’ve earned a little anger, Eloise.”

She flinched, her flight response shrieking at her to run and hide, but she took a deep breath and met his gaze. “You told me all that stuff…about how they didn’t want us. How they didn’t care. But you didn’t tell me you’d found them.”

He said nothing, his jaw grinding.

“Is that why you lost touch with your powers? Did they take them?”

“No,” he hissed. “It was…” He sighed and ran his hands over his face.

Eloise frowned, her heart breaking. “I see. It was the shock.”

“Hearing and knowing the truth are two different things. I didn’t want to believe. I wanted to understand. A parent is supposed to love their child, to want them. He never wanted anything to do with me. I was nothing.”

“I’m sorry.” She didn’t know what else to say.

“I didn’t want you to know. I wanted to save you the crushing disappointment.” He shook his head. “I lost the part of myself that I treasured the most, but it was also the part that connected me with him…that part that is him.”

“You’re not your father, just like I’m not my parents,” Eloise told him. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me!” Kyne hissed. “I’m not like you. I can’t just accept things. It’s not easy for me.”

“And you think it’s easy for me?” she asked. “I left home at sixteen. I lived on the streets! I had no one and if I did, I risked losing it all the moment I touched them. I know what it’s like to be abandoned, because I abandoned myself the moment things got hard.”

Kyne laughed wryly. “Look at us. You’re the master of abandonment and I’m a stage-five clinger.”

Anger flared hotly inside her. “I don’t care what your damn father thinks, and neither should you!”

“Look who’s talking. You only kissed me because you can’t touch anyone else!”

“I did not!” Eloise shoved him. “Don’t make this about me!”

“It is about you! You’re the one who’s leaving!”

“I never—”

“You’re more elemental than you realise!”

“Your power came back because of you, not me!”

“It was because of you! If you weren’t there, I would’ve died down there!”

“You really don’t see it, do you?”

“See what? That I’m nothing?”

“You’re not listening to me!” she shouted, clenching her fists. “I don’t care about the bloody elementals! I. Don’t. Care!”

An earsplitting crack shattered the still air and the ground began to shake. Eloise stumbled, holding out her hands to steady herself.

“Eloise, stop!” Kyne grabbed her as the hoist swayed violently, then fell, the metal structure taking out several trees before landing with a boom.

Her heart hammered in her chest and she shoved him back, her fingers tingling with a bad case of pins and needles.

Screwing her eyes shut, she drew in heaving gulps of air, trying to recall what Vera had taught her about meditation. She was on a tropical beach in far North Queensland. Waves crashed on the shore, the air smelled like salt and earth. The fine, white sand was warm between her toes… The shuddering began to settle and the earth quieted.

“Bloody hell,” Kyne murmured.

She opened her eyes and gasped. “Oh no…”

They stared in shock at the splintered earth, the jagged ends of bedrock caving into Black Hole Mine. Eloise didn’t have to tap into her power to realise the whole thing was flattened. The tunnels were full of rubble and the corrugated iron holding the shaft in place had been crumpled like an empty aluminium can.

“I-I’m… I-I’m s-sorry,” she managed to force out. “I—”

Kyne wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close, his touch silencing her.

“You’re lucky I’ve mined out that seam,” he murmured.

“I didn’t mean… I-I’m…”

“Shh,” he said, running his fingers through her hair. “I’m the one who should be sorry. I… I don’t handle things well. Never have.”

Eloise sighed and swallowed her frustrated tears. “At least you’re admitting it.”

He tensed and shook his head.

“Drew’s in trouble, Kyne,” she said. “We have to go back and help.”

Kyne frowned. “I feel like an arse right now.”

Eloise tugged on his sleeve and filled him in on what Vera had told her and Hardy—about the package, how Drew had gone after the dingoes…all of it.

His expression fell as he listened, his gaze flickering to his destroyed mine every now and then. When she was finished, he sighed. “If you’re going to stand with us against the Dust Dogs, then there’s something you should know.”

“Oh, here we go,” she drawled, putting her hands on her hips. “What now?”

“Drew never said what he stole, but we think it has something to do with the seal.”

Eloise frowned. “Seal? What seal?”

“The seal that lies underneath Solace. A place of power.”

Her expression fell as she remembered the pulse of magic she’d felt as she’d crossed the highway her first night in town.

“We don’t know what it is, but it’s what draws supernaturals here,” Kyne went on. “There’s a capstone in an old mine that runs directly underneath the centre of town. We don’t know what’s under it, but we decided a long time ago to keep it safe and secret. Whatever it is, it was covered for a reason.”

Her eyes widened in shock as she realised she’d heard this before. Andante had told her.

Eloise knew what she saw when she was lost in the outback wasn’t a hallucination. It was one hundred percent real. The pieces were slotting together, and it painted an awful picture. A key, a seal, ancient power… Andante had used the word ‘calamity’. It sounded bad. Real bad.

“Drew stole the key,” she said, the words pouring out in a hurry. “He took the key to stop the Dust Dogs from opening it.”

“A key?” Kyne stared at her, his eyes widening. “How do you know?”

“Andante,” she replied. “She told me that a spirit used to live here. One older than the universe. The ocean… She implied the land was alive, that the ocean had a heart.”

“Who the hell is Andante?”

“The old woman in the cave!”

“Eloise.” Kyne grasped her arm and shook her. “You were—”

“I wasn’t hallucinating,” she snapped. “She told me they would come. The Dust Dogs will come, key or no key. And they won’t be the last. Not everyone who comes to Solace will have pure intentions, Kyne. Whatever is underneath that seal can never be let out. Never.”

He stared at her in shock, their argument long forgotten. “Who is this woman? Where is she?”

Eloise shook him off. “I don’t know. I passed out and I woke up in her cave, but she sent me back after we spoke. When I opened my eyes again, I was exactly where I’d been before. It was like I hadn’t moved at all. Then Coen’s kangaroo led me to him and Drew.” She grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the cars. “He’s in trouble. We have to go.”

Kyne’s jaw hardened and he nodded. “Follow me in Hardy’s 4WD. You okay to drive back?”

Eloise nodded. “Let’s go.”

As she went to walk away, he hooked his hand around her elbow and tugged her back. “I projected my issues on you,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

Eloise grimaced. “I just destroyed your life’s work. I’m sorry.”

Kyne snorted and fished his car keys out of his pocket. “I had it coming.”

Hardy ran across the outback, dodging trees and shrubs as he searched for Drew.

That damn kid, he thought. Taking on the pack on his own. Being a hero was going to get him killed. If they got Drew out of this, then he’d have a thing or two to say to him about how asking for help wasn’t a slight on his masculinity.

He’d woken Blue on his way out, who’d activated the Solace phone tree. Eloise had gone for Kyne, and the publican would wake Wally, then bring in Finn and the fae. Coen… well, there was no way to contact him, but Hardy gathered the Indigenous man already knew what was going on. He also knew Finn wouldn’t be pleased about helping the dingo shifter, but if Vera was right about what he’d stolen, then the fae were in as much danger as the rest of them.

Hardy went north, fanning out from the edges of the shifter camp, while the fae, Blue, and Wally would watch the town borders. The Dust Dogs were on the hunt and he was the only one fast enough to outrun them and find Drew before it was too late.

As he searched, he found traces of the pack. Tracks in the dirt, howls in the shadows, their putrid stench blowing in the wind. They were still out there, circling. Whatever had happened to Drew, there was still time. Hardy followed the shifters, using their tracks to find Drew’s trail.

He smelled blood long before he found the source.

Entering a clearing at the bottom of a treacherous incline, he saw two dingoes lying on either side of the open space, both broken and bleeding. The stench of blood was thick in the air and he held his breath as his throat burned.

Drew was unconscious, his chest rising and falling in short, shallow breaths. His entire body was covered in scratches, puncture wounds, and gashes in various stages of healing. His left ear was torn, and clumps of fur were missing around his neck, and that was only half of it. They’d tortured and beat him before making sport of his death.

Hardy squatted beside the dingo and placed a palm on his side, feeling his heartbeat. It didn’t sound good.

“Drew,” he murmured. “Drew.”

The dingo’s eyes didn’t open nor did he move. For a moment, Hardy deliberated the effects of vampire blood on a shifter, then decided against it. He could heal many ailments with his blood, but the more supernatural a person was, the less it agreed with them. He couldn’t risk it.

Hardy turned his gaze on the larger dingo, suspecting its sheer size denoted it as the pack’s alpha. He could hear the beat of its heart and bared his fangs. He could end one of their problems right here, right now.

A shadow loomed in the darkness and Hardy spun, his eyes misting completely black as his vampire side rose.

“Leave him,” Coen said, walking barefoot into the clearing.

“He’s the alpha,” Hardy argued, not surprised in the least to find him here. “Without him, the Dust Dogs will scatter.”

“They’ll simply choose another.” Coen looked at the sky and squinted as if he was searching for something. “Drew fades. You better get him home.”

“Home?”

He nodded. “Yes. Home.”

Hardy relaxed, his fangs retracting and his eyes returning to normal. Scooping up Drew, he held him close. With one final glance at Coen, he began to run.

His vampire feet took him through the outback at lightning speed, cutting the hour-long trek down to mere minutes. Trees shot past, he leapt over rocks and fallen branches, skirted dense scrub, then topped a rise with a view of the town below. Then the lights of Solace were upon them and he was standing outside the Outpost before he’d taken another breath. Sometimes it was thrilling being a vampire.

Kyne and Eloise were standing on the road beside the parked cars when he appeared.

“Drew?” Eloise exclaimed, her gaze falling on the dingo in Hardy’s arms.

“He’s pretty banged up,” he told the elementals. “I better get him inside. Wait for me?”

Kyne nodded, his expression grave. “Do what you have to do. We’ll wait.”

Hardy took off, flying into Vera’s dugout. He came to a stop in her lounge room, his sudden arrival making the witch squeal in surprise.

“Oh my God,” Vera exclaimed as the vampire set the bloodied dingo onto the couch. “Oh my God.” She fell to her knees and stroked a pale hand over Drew’s furry face. “What have they done to you?”

Hardy stepped back, wiping his palms on his shirt. The blood didn’t bother him so much these days. When he was new, it was another story—and one that didn’t have a good ending.

“Can you help him?” he asked. “He’s still breathing, but his heartbeat is slow.”

Vera looked up at him and nodded, his words snapping her out of her daze. “Yes. Yes, I have some things.” She rose and hurried into the kitchen where she started to bang about, taking jars from the overhead cupboards and filling a large glass bowl with water.

“Is there anything I can do?” the vampire asked.

“No. I just need some room. I’ll be okay.” She began to mix herbs into a mortar, then grabbed a pestle and began to grind.

The kitchen filled with a pungent, earthy scent, and Hardy nodded. “I’ll be outside with the others. Holler if you need anything.” But the witch wasn’t listening.

When Hardy went back outside, Eloise was arguing with Finn. His hands waved wildly in the air as the fae brushed her off.

“What’s got you so worked up?” Hardy asked.

“The little desert pea’s brain is still cooked,” Finn replied. “She’s gone mad.”

“Shut the hell up,” Kyne said, glaring at Finn. “Listen and you might learn something for once.”

Finn opened this mouth, but Hardy glared at him. “Let her speak.”

Hardy watched Eloise closely as she told them about her strange encounter in the outback. How she knew about the seal, Drew’s stolen key, and her belief that the power they’d been protecting was an ancient spirit and something about ‘the heart of the ocean’.

“Andante,” she told them. “She warned me they’d come.”

“Who the hell is Andante?” Finn asked with a scowl. “Your brain sure fried good out there.”

“Have you been listening to anything I’ve said?” Eloise raged, unleashing a new confidence that Hardy was really beginning to like. “The Dust Dogs won’t let this lie, Finn. After what happened tonight, they’ll come for the seal with or without the key. We have to stop them.”

“I can see secrets are no longer sacred around here,” the fae drawled.

Kyne fisted his hands into the front of Finn’s shirt and jerked him close. “If you don’t like it, you’re welcome to piss off. If you won’t stand with us when the time comes, you and your fae friends can leave.”

“That’s a low blow,” Finn drawled. “You know we can’t survive long without the power from the seal.”

“Oh, I know,” the elemental said.

Eloise snorted at this new bit of information and glanced at Hardy. “Anything else I should know?”

“Vera and Drew broke into your van,” he told her with a chuckle.

“Why am I not surprised?”

Finn shoved Kyne away and smoothed down his shirt. “Because stranger shit has happened.”

“Vera already suspected it had something to do with the seal,” Hardy said, steering the conversation back to where it mattered. “Now that we know it’s a key, we have to find and protect it before the Dust Dogs figure out where Drew stashed it.”

“I still don’t believe it’s a key,” Finn muttered, but no one was paying him any attention. “Fever dreams aren’t reliable.”

Eloise glanced at Kyne, then held up her hand like she was asking permission to ask a question in a classroom. “I want to try and find Andante again. She knew all about the seal and the key. If anyone knows where and what, it’s her.”

“And how does one find a woman who lives in a dream?” Finn asked with a roll of his eyes.

“Coen,” she replied, not taking the fae’s bait. “He’ll know. He walks the Dreaming.”

Hardy grinned. He liked Eloise. A lot. She caught on quick for someone who was just introduced to all the crazy Solace had to offer.

“Let’s wait until morning,” he told them. “Give Drew some time to rest. He might have more to say after Vera has had time to work her magic.”

“What about the Dust Dogs?” Eloise asked. “How much time do you think we have before they retaliate?”

“The alpha was pretty torn up,” Hardy replied, “but he wasn’t dead.”

“Shifters heal quickly enough on their own,” Kyne mused. “I reckon we’ve got a day, maybe two.”

“Depending on their level of pissed off,” Finn remarked.

Hardy looked up and down the road, then at the sky. The stars shone brightly, the lights of Solace not strong enough to blot them out. There was a streetlamp outside Wally’s, Blue’s pub, and the Outpost. The rest of the town faded into shadow outside the small ring…and underneath their feet rested the seal. He’d only seen it once, but it was more than enough to know it wasn’t supposed to be opened.

“We have to prepare,” Kyne murmured. “Put some defences in place. If it comes down to it, we have to be ready to fight fire with fire.”

Hardy nodded. “I’ll wrangle Blue and Wally. Finn…can we count on you?”

The fae sighed, his silver eyes shining in the semi-darkness. “Yeah, sure.”

“Then,” the vampire said, “we’d better get to work.”

Chapter 21

As the sun began to rise over Solace, underneath the surface sat the most unlikely pair of supernaturals to have ever met. An Irish witch and an Australian dingo.

Vera sat on an old armchair in her lounge room too anxious to sleep. She rubbed her thumb over the piece of Tiger’s Eye she held and sighed. The polished surface of the stone was smooth, and the warm energy emitting from its core was helping. Well, at least she thought it was.

Drew was asleep on the couch, a crocheted blanket draped over him. Some time during the night, he’d shifted back into his human body, his unconscious mind dragging him out of his animal side.

It was much easier for her to treat a man than a dingo, but his transformation had revealed just how severe his injuries were. His left eye was black and swollen, a savage cut split his eyebrow, his neck was bruised and punctured in a mottled pattern of teeth marks, and that was just one part of his body. The rest was a patchwork of gashes, bites, and scrapes on a background of sunburned skin. Despite her best efforts, he was going to have a lot of new scars.

Vera had a special herbal balm she liked to use to heal various cuts and burns, but she had never made so much before. It was a mix of Aloe vera, eucalyptus, and the ground up leaves and roots of a native plant called hop bush. Some added magic helped the process along, but she wasn’t a miracle worker.

A soft rap at the door startled her awake. She shuffled through the beaded curtain and down the hall, finding Eloise outside.

“I just wanted to check in,” the elemental said, her face shaded by the grey hat—a gift from Kyne—she now seemed to wear constantly. “How are you?”

“Finally, someone who asks how the healer is and not the patient,” Vera replied with a tired smile.

“I figured using magic to heal would be a big deal,” she said.

The witch shrugged and stepped out into the matte light of dawn. “I’m tired, but it’s nothing. I’ve done everything I can.”

“How is he?”

“He’ll be okay. He was in bad shape, so it’s going to take time.” She looked to the sky, which was barely light enough to be called blue. “You’re out early.”

“We’ve been working on a plan,” Eloise told her. “The Dust Dogs will be back, so we’re going to make sure we’re ready. I’m going to find Coen and track down Andante.”

“Andante?”

“The old woman who I saw when I was lost.”

Vera raised her eyebrows and nodded. She’d heard all about it, but this was the first time it’d been taken seriously. Dehydration and sun exposure could screw with a person’s mind, but then again, with all the supernatural nonsense running around the outback, who was to say it wasn’t real?

“Kyne told me about the seal,” Eloise added. “Drew took the key from the Dust Dogs.”

“Well,” Vera said with a long sigh and clutched the Tiger’s Eye tighter, “then it’s only fair I tell you about the vision I got when Drew and I broke into your motorhome.”

“I gathered you’d done something like that,” Eloise told her. “The best unkept secret in all of Solace…and that’s saying something.”

Vera grimaced. “You wouldn’t let me touch you, so I had to get a vision somehow.”

“Which was?”

“Three knocks in the darkness, a figure standing over you and reaching out a hand, and a weird black mountain.”

The elemental nodded.

“You don’t seem surprised,” Vera said.

“Those things have plagued my dreams for a long time,” Eloise told her. “I’ve seen most of them since being here; all of them just like my dreams. The knocks were from the kadaitcha I saw when I was lost. The hand reaching for me was Coen when I stumbled into his camp. The mountain…” She shrugged. “Well, your guess is as good as mine, though probably better.”

“Dreams and visions like these rarely make themselves known before it’s time. For now, we know you’re right where you’re meant to be.”

“At least I know all the big secrets,” Eloise said. “I can help you do something about it.”

“We all have our own secrets,” she murmured, thinking of Drew. “Even ones we keep from ourselves.”

They were silent for a moment, taking in the early morning bird calls as a flock of parrots settled onto the gum tree outside Blue’s pub.

“So, you’re going to find this Andante woman?” Vera asked. “Why?”

“She knows things about the seal…and that’s what I wanted to ask you. Kyne said you were the best person to ask about finding Coen.”

“Coen?”

“Andante seemed to be someplace other than Earth, but still within it. It’s difficult to explain, but Coen knows the Dreaming and might be able to lead me there.”

Vera thought about it for a moment. So much had come to light in such a short amount of time. Eloise’s arrival had triggered something huge, but what exactly was still to be revealed. No doubt there was more trouble coming beyond the Dust Dogs.

“Has Coen ever given you anything?” Vera asked.

“Kind of.” Eloise frowned. “Finn gave me a feather that Coen gave to him the day Drew hit him with that shovel.”

“Good. Take it to the boab and call for him.”

She blinked at the witch for a moment. “Is that it?”

“That’s it.” Vera smiled, some of her anxiety fading. “Sometimes the simplest choice is all it takes.”

“Thanks.” Eloise began to turn, but hesitated. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

“Yeah. I’ll be okay.”

“If you need anything…”

The witch regarded Eloise for a moment before holding out the Tiger’s Eye. As it sat in the palm of her hand, she sent a pulse of purple magic through the stone, cleansing it of all the anxiety she’d seeped into it through the night.

“Here,” she said. “Take this.”

Eloise glanced nervously at the stone.

“It’s Tiger’s Eye,” Vera explained. “For the protection of the sun and Earth. If you’re going to travel the Dreaming with Coen, it’ll help. It’s not called the all-seeing eye for nothing.” She held it out, knowing it wasn’t the crystal Eloise was anxious about. “Don’t worry, your energy has changed. I can feel it.”

“It has?” She tentatively reached out and plucked the stone from the witch’s palm, her fingers brushing against her skin. The elemental laughed softly as her hand closed around the Tiger’s Eye.

Vera smiled and opened the door to her dugout. “I better get back.”

“Take care. I’ll come see you when I get back, okay?” She turned and began to walk towards the road.

“Eloise?” Vera called.

The elemental turned. “Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

Her head tilted to the side. “What for?”

“Being my friend.”

Drew’s human eyes opened and he jerked upright with a growl. Pain seared through his body as his muscles coiled, ready to attack.

“Drew.” Cool hands pressed on his shoulders. “Drew, it’s okay. You’re safe.”

Pain forced him back down and his chest heaved as his vision began to sharpen. Warm light surrounded him and the scent of eucalyptus filled his nose.

A woman knelt beside him. A woman with a shock of red, curly hair.

“Vera?” he managed to rasp.

“You fool,” she murmured, wiping at a stray tear. “You bloody fool.”

“Roth,” he said with a grimace. “Where’s Roth?”

“We don’t know,” Vera replied. “Hardy left him.”

“Hardy?” He tried to lift his head again, but the witch clucked her tongue and pressed her hands on his shoulders again.

“Stay still,” she told him. “You’re in a right mess. I’m good, but not that good.”

“What happened? How did I get here?” The last thing he remembered was fighting Roth, then collapsing. There was a shadow in the darkness…a kadaitcha. It’d attacked the alpha.

Vera moved from her knees and perched on the edge of the couch, picking up a damp face washer. She folded the fabric and pressed it to his forehead, the coolness soothing his flushed skin.

“I broke my promise…” she explained. “I shouldn’t have let you go in the first place. I’m sorry.”

Drew frowned. He was the one who should be sorry. He’d messed everything up, but it was like a broken record with him—messing up was the only thing he knew how to do right.

“I knew you were in trouble and went to Hardy for help,” she went on. “He was the one who found you. Him and Coen.”

His mind went back to the kadaitcha, wondering if he’d seen it at all…or if it was just the vampire.

“Drew… The Dust Dogs were hunting you, and by the looks of it they—” She clamped her mouth closed and turned away, hiding her expression.

“They beat the shit outta me,” he said. “Locked me in a cage so the sun burned my bare arse, threatened, taunted, but… I challenged Roth.”

Her gaze returned to his. “You challenged him?”

Drew grasped her hand. “It was the only chance I had to avenge them.”

Vera was quiet for a long moment. She dabbed the face washer on his forehead again, using the gesture to cover her silence. “Who?”

“My family. My pack.”

The witch’s magic seemed to stir, a small crackle of electricity playing over his forehead.

“My parents died when I was a pup,” he explained. “I lived with my grandfather after. He was the last of my pack.”

“The last?”

He nodded. “They were all killed by the Dust Dogs. I never knew until Roth told me last night.”

Vera’s hand flew to her mouth. “Oh, Drew…”

He shifted, the movement making him wince. “I was four or five at the time, I don’t really remember. I have pieces of memory that never made much sense. Howls in the night…” He narrowed his eyes as the visions replayed in his mind. “Crashes, fighting, the scent of blood and smoke. Fire… Someone telling me to shift and hide…my mum, I think. I remember digging underneath a house, our house maybe. I curled up in a hollow and it was hot, so hot.”

His grip tightened on Vera’s hand. This was the first time he’d spoken about it. Until now, they’d been blurred memories buried inside his head that no one had ever wanted to know—not that he’d bother telling anyone. Not one had ever cared about him…until Vera took a chance on his sorry arse.

“The house burned down on top of you?” she asked. “And you survived?”

“By some screwed up miracle. The foundation was still smoking when I was dug up. It was light out and the last thing I remember was my grandad’s disappointed face.”

Vera stilled. “Disappointed?”

“The old bastard was disappointed I was alive.” Drew snorted. “We were the last of our pack. They’d all been killed. Exterminated.”

“Why would he be disappointed in finding you?” She didn’t bother wiping away her tears. “If everyone was gone…”

“He didn’t want to raise a shifter kid on his own. He was a no-good son of a bitch. He beat me, told me I was no good, never bothered sending me to school. I grew up by the pain of his belt on my arse.” He coughed, his ribs aching. “His favourite thing, other than drowning his sorrows in a bottle of grog, was reminding me how much he wished I’d died.”

“Oh, Drew…”

“I don’t want your pity,” he hissed.

Her expression hardened. “Then what do you want?”

“Justice.” He tried to sit again, but Vera shoved him down more forcibly this time. “It was them. The Dust Dogs. They murdered my pack. They took my parents from me.” He pushed against her hold, but she sent a jolt of magic into him. “I want to kill them all.”

“Drew, please,” she murmured. “You’re hurt and I don’t want you undoing an entire night’s work.”

Drew heaved in a deep breath, his anger calling to his dingo side. “I was so stupid.”

“You ran with them for months,” Vera said. “You didn’t know?”

He shook his head. “Roth told me last night.”

“That’s why you challenged him.”

“If I died trying to take him down, then who’d care?”

“I’d care!” Vera exclaimed. “I’d care.”

“I… I was on my own. I just wanted… I just…”

Vera smoothed her hand over his cheek. “You wanted to belong.” His gaze met hers as his eyes filled with tears. “Drew, you’re an Exile now. You belong to our pack.”

His bottom lip quivered. It was all he’d ever wanted, but he’d messed up big time. It was his actions that’d brought the Dust Dogs down on Solace. He didn’t deserve the protection or friendship of the Exiles, even if he was trying to do the right thing.

“I know you took the key to the seal from them,” Vera murmured.

He stared at her. “How do you know?”

“Eloise told us.”

“Eloise?”

Vera nodded. “Turns out her hallucinations in the outback were real. She knows everything…and more besides. You were trying to do the right thing, though I wish you would’ve just told us.”

“I want to explain,” he said, grasping his side. “I don’t want them to hate me.”

“They don’t hate you, Drew,” Vera told him.

He was only half listening. “I tried to do the right thing. I tried.”

“Drew.” She grasped his face, forcing him to look at her. “Take a breath. It’s okay. It’s okay.”

A distressed sob burst out of him and he jerked upright. Vera caught him in her arms, her magic wrapping around him in a comforting wave.

“Shh,” she murmured, holding him against her chest, the balm she’d rubbed on his wounds smearing over her clean blouse. “Let it out. It’s okay.” She smoothed a hand through his hair as he broke down and sobbed. “You’ll never be alone again.”

Chapter 22

Eloise opened the door to her van, the metal panel whizzing across the runners.

Climbing through the cab, she plucked the feather from where she’d pinned it on the headliner right next to the bright yellow badge from the ‘Big Banana,’ which was one of Australia’s most famous ‘big things.’

She twirled the brown and white feather in her fingers and wondered why it was so important. It was just a shed feather from some bird—a hawk or an eagle, maybe. How was she going to use this to find Coen?

Snorting, she jumped out of the van and closed the door, which shut with a loud whizz and a bang. She’d stopped in more than a few campgrounds where she’d heard other people referring to her little motorhome as a ‘whizz banger’ and it wasn’t hard to understand why.

A soft breeze full of warmth and the scent of trouble buffeted her hat, and she pressed her palm against the crown as she jogged around the side of Wally’s garage.

She’d always known she was different, but the supernatural world was far greater than anything she could’ve anticipated. Werewolves, vampires, witches, fae, shapeshifters, elementals, and likely more besides.

Whatever lay underneath the mysterious seal could be anything…or anyone. How could they protect something they didn’t understand?

Andante would know, even though she’d spoken in riddles. She’d said everything, but nothing all at the same time. Who was she, anyway? Why was she living in the remote outback in a cave? How anyone could survive out there without access to food and water year-round was yet another mystery to add to the ever-increasing pile.

Eloise had come to know Solace as a sleepy town, but that morning it seemed it sat on the precipice of a jagged cliff. The air crackled with promise and the sky was a shade of purplish-pink she’d never seen before. The land seemed to understand a battle was brewing.

Hurrying along the road, she crossed over and approached the boab. The tree was an impressive sight on an ordinary day, but Eloise was beginning to suspect it was more than it seemed.

As she stood there, she realised one thing Vera hadn’t told her was how to call for Coen. She looked around, feeling awkward.

“Coen?” she called, but her voice came out in a ragged whisper. Man, she felt like an idiot right now. “Coen? Are you there?”

“Hello,” he called, peeking his head out from behind the boab.

Eloise jumped, her heart almost bursting. “Holy f—” She stopped herself from cursing one of the ultimate bad words just in time, much to Coen’s amusement.

He chuckled and walked around the tree, jumping barefoot over one of the exposed roots. That man must have hard soles; she couldn’t walk across Wally’s yard without either burning her skin or stepping on a sharp rock.

“You scared me,” she said, placing her palm over her heart. She was never a fan of jump scares and always watched horror movies during the day, but boy did she feel alive right now.

“I woke you up,” Coen told her with a wide grin. “Better than an alarm clock.”

Eloise had so many questions, but first she said, “I never got to thank you for helping me when I was lost.”

“I know you’re grateful,” he replied. “You don’t need to say. Marlu helped more.”

“Yeah, but I want to.” She smiled. “Thank you. And to, uh, Marlu.”

“I like your hat.”

Her hand brushed the brim. “Yeah, thanks. Kyne got it for me.”

Coen laughed knowingly. “I know.”

Eloise felt her cheeks flush and she said, “Vera said the boab was the best place to contact you. Can I ask why?”

“Memory,” Coen replied. “The boab bloats like a man with too much beer in his belly. See?” He patted the trunk with his hand and laughed. “Rock solid.”

Eloise laughed, his enthusiasm infectious. The boab collected the memory of the Dreaming, which Coen travelled on his walkabout. It was a spiritual mobile phone.

“Ah.” He pointed to the feather clutched in her fingers. “He found you.”

“Finn gave it to me,” she told him.

“Good.” His grin widened. “It’s a tail feather from the great wedge-tailed eagle. It’s special. For you.”

“Oh… Thanks.”

He looked her over, his dreamy eyes keen in the lightening day, waiting.

“Coen, when I was lost…” Eloise trailed off, not knowing how to explain her visions without sounding crazy.

“Don’t worry,” he told her. “I’ve seen many things that don’t seem possible to those without all eyes open.” He jabbed a finger in between his eyes and chuckled. “You can tell me what you think is crazy. It’s not.”

Eloise raised her eyebrows, still not sure how to take him. Sometimes Coen was clear and sharp, other times he was dreamy and misty-eyed. He was like a spirit himself—flitting here and there, appearing and disappearing without rhyme or reason…or so it seemed.

“Well, when I was lost, I kind of met someone…in my dreams. I thought it was a hallucination because of dehydration, but I’m not so sure.”

“Ah,” the Indigenous man said. “Many souls wander the Dreaming. More likely to meet some out there,” he pointed to the scrub, “away from humans and their noise.”

“I want to find her again. She told me about the seal and about the key Drew took. The Dust Dogs are going to try to open it.” Eloise sighed and shook her head. “We need help. She might know how we can best protect it.”

If Coen was surprised Eloise knew about the seal and the key, he didn’t show it. “She?”

“She called herself Andante.”

“Ah.” His expression turned thoughtful.

“Do you know her? She is real?”

“Yes, she is real enough. Alive, but not here.”

“She came to me in my dreams, or at least, I think she did. I thought you might know how to find her again.”

“The Dreaming doesn’t flow in a straight line.” He held up his arm and waved it through the air as if he were imitating a snake. “It flows like a river, filling every gap, going up and down, side to side, all at the same time.”

“So, you’re saying reality isn’t a straight line?”

Coen grinned. “Sometimes other rivers join, then break away. Other times they never part.”

Eloise’s heart sank. “So you’re saying she can’t be found?”

“She controls the rivers,” he replied. “We only travel them.” He took the feather from her fingers and gestured for her to sit. “May I?” He held the feather to his hair, then pointed to her.

“Oh.” She raised her eyebrows and shrugged. “Okay.”

“The feather will protect you,” he explained. “It will guide the spirits and the ancestors.”

Eloise sat on the raised root of the boab. “Andante said they were attracted to me because of my gift.”

He combed his fingers through her hair, his movements considerate of her aversion to touch, and picked out some long blonde strands behind her left ear.

“You know everything you need to in this moment,” he said as his fingers worked. “She cannot tell you anything else.”

She looked up at him and frowned. “I don’t know what to do. We need to protect the seal, but I don’t know how…”

Coen pointed to the boab. “Would you like to see it?”

Eloise blinked. “What?”

“The seal.”

“Am I… Am I allowed?”

“Yes, you are welcome.” Coen laughed and fixed the feather into place with a small thread of something he took out of his shirt pocket.

Eloise felt her hair, finding he’d woven the feather half inside a small plait. “Where is it?”

“Come,” he said. “The entrance is not far.”

He led her to the other side of the boab tree and dusted his hands over the ground, moving aside the ochre dirt from a concealed metal hatch. It was rusted a deep, burned brown, camouflaging into the earth around it.

Not that far at all, she thought as Coen shoved aside the metal, revealing a narrow mineshaft.

Coen didn’t hesitate. He hopped over the side and scaled the ladder, disappearing into the darkness.

Eloise looked over the edge and bit her bottom lip. She guessed she was going underground again…hopefully with better results this time.

With one last look around Solace, she followed Coen, making her way down the ladder much slower than he had. Her feet were unsure of the depth and she kept awkwardly reaching into the dark until she made it to the bottom.

Peering up at the circle of light above, she estimated it was at least as deep as Black Hole Mine. The miners had to dig down to the right level, which was the ancient coral reef, to find opal.

She took out her mobile phone from her pocket and switched on the torch. The harsh white light lit the tunnel, revealing Coen waiting within.

“Come,” he said. “It’s not far.”

Coen’s version of ‘not far’ could mean anything, but in this case, she guessed the seal lay underneath the road. After all, it was where she’d first sensed it.

Eloise felt the magic reverberating in the air as they moved down the tunnel. The walls were pocked with chisel marks, but when they emerged into a larger chamber, it was clear the miners had stumbled across something that had been here long before them.

It looked natural, like a hollow that had been missed when the earth reshaped itself millions of years ago. Maybe it’d once been an underwater cave and magic had kept it from filling with sediment.

“Here,” Coen called, waving Eloise forwards.

She shone the torch in his direction and paused. In the centre, jutting out of the uneven floor like a set of doors leading into a cellar, was a stone that didn’t belong. The mottled bluestone stood out like sore thumb against the warmth of the rock around them, the quartz flecks glittering in the light of Eloise’s torch.

“Is that…?” She moved closer, the air filling with a strange sensation that made her bones vibrate. It was if the air was alive.

“The seal,” Coen said with a nod. “A great magic sleeps underneath.”

Eloise shone the light on the stone. It was smooth, with no markings that gave any clues as to what it was or why it was here. Flashing the torch around the chamber, the walls were also bare. If it wasn’t for the magic she felt pulsing from the bluestone, she wouldn’t have known what it was.

Where the key everyone was fighting over went, was another piece of the strange puzzle. There was no hole for a key to go, but she was assuming it was a key key. Andante hadn’t said what it looked like and Drew hadn’t admitted he’d taken it, at least not to Eloise.

“Do you know the Rainbow Serpent?” Coen asked, standing beside the seal.

“I’ve heard of it, but I don’t know the story.”

“He goes by many names, spoken by many mobs across this land of Australia,” he murmured. “Goorialla. Numereji. Wanamangura. Yurlungur. Borlung, and many more. His story is told in as many ways as he has names. In the beginning, in the Dreaming, he came from beneath the ground, waking from a deep sleep. He set off across the world, searching for his tribe, waking others as he went. He woke the frogs who brought water, their croaking waking the seeds in the earth. The seeds drank and grew, bringing colour and life to the barren land.” He placed his hand on the seal as Eloise listened, transfixed. “Now there was food to eat and water to drink, and the Serpent woke others as he searched, his body carving the rivers and forcing up the mountains. Everywhere he went, animals awoke. Kookaburras laughing in the sky, goannas in the deserts, fish in the sea, wombats in their holes, kangaroos, koalas, dingoes. They were all happy as they gathered food for their mobs.”

“Did he find his mob?” Eloise asked. “The Rainbow Serpent?”

Coen grinned and held his finger against his lips. “Seeing what he created, the Serpent decided to make rules for the animals. Rules to protect all. Some followed and were rewarded by being transformed into humans. Others did not and were punished. They were turned into stone and placed in the mountains.”

Eloise’s smile faded. Mountains.

“One day, it began to rain,” Coen went on. “It rained and rained and rained until the world was flooded. Two young lorikeets came to the Serpent and asked him for shelter, but the Serpent was hungry and tricked the lorikeets. Take shelter in my mouth, he said…” He clapped his hands together with a snap that made Eloise jump. “And he ate them all up.”

“What happened next?”

“The Serpent was ashamed. He knew the lorikeet’s mob would come looking for the missing birds, so he hid in the sky. Then he decided to try to make the people happy once more and made his long body stretch from horizon to horizon,” Coen waved his hand through the air, “and turned his scales into a beautiful rainbow. Now…after every time it rains, you can see him in the sky and remember the Rainbow Serpent.”

“But did he find his people?”

He smiled, his eyes glittering in the eerie light cast from her torch. “We are all his mob. His search awoke us all.”

Eloise’s gaze turned back to the seal. There was a moral to the story she was missing. The animals the Rainbow Serpent punished were turned to stone and put in the mountains. Did it have something to do with the black mountain from her dreams? Was it a warning?

And if the bad animals were made into stone and sent above ground, what was buried in what used to be the ocean? Andante had implied it was the heart of the ocean, but was that description literal or abstract?

“Stories are a way of explaining what cannot be told in words,” Coen said, watching her with a knowing that was unsettling.

“Isn’t that a paradox?” she asked, her head aching.

He laughed and pointed to the feather in her hair. “Bunjil created things, too.”

“Was he a shapeshifter? Was the Rainbow Serpent an elemental? Is that how the dingo shifters came to be?”

Coen shook his head. “So many questions about things that don’t matter. Think about today. What comes.” He took her hands in his, gaming her to try to jerk away, but he held her firm, unafraid of her power. “You came here for a reason. The Dreaming carried you to this place. Make paths by walking.”

Eloise frowned, more confused than ever. What was she meant to do? How could she help protect the seal from the Dust Dogs? They’d come in full force with guns and violence. She was just one woman who didn’t know what the hell she was doing. She’d never fired a gun or fought anyone. She didn’t even know how to use her elemental powers properly—destroying Kyne’s mine was a prime example of that. What if she accidentally tore open the seal? Was that even a possibility?

Coen tightened his grip on her hands, his touch calming. “When the river ebbs, you will know.”

Drew had barely been awake for an hour or two before he convinced Vera to let him go to the pub.

The shower he’d taken stung like hell, and the fabric of his navy-blue T-shirt rubbed the cuts on his chest, but he was feeling a lot better. Well, as good as the aftermath of being mauled by Roth allowed him to be.

He limped across the side road, past Hardy’s shop, and over the yard in front of the pub. Stopping out the front, he listened to the sounds of the Exiles inside, his heart heavy. Vera had told him not to worry, but he couldn’t help it.

Drew hung his head, his damp blond hair falling into his eyes, and pushed open the door.

Blue was behind the bar, while Kyne, Hardy, and Wally sat on stools, talking quietly. The radio was on, but the volume was turned down. It was playing one of the various classic Aussie rock CDs Blue kept in scratched cases stacked beside the equally battered and ancient CD player. Luckily, Finn wasn’t anywhere to be seen.

Hardy was the first one to stand. “Drew,” he said. “You should be resting, mate.”

Drew collapsed onto a seat at the nearest table and rubbed his one good eye. The other was still black, but at least he could see out of it now.

“I’m fine,” he told them. “I owe you all an explanation. I wanted to come.”

“Well, I don’t think I’m alone in saying that I wished you’d gone about it differently,” Blue said. “But you were trying to do right by Solace.”

“Hear hear,” Kyne declared.

Blue rounded the bar and set a pint of beer in front of Drew.

“Is that a good idea?” Wally asked.

“The man’s earned a beer,” the publican said, drawing up a chair next to the shifter. “Let him drink.” It was the first time he’d referred to Drew as man and not a kid.

“You don’t owe us an explanation, but we’d like to hear it,” Kyne went on. “Regardless of what you did, the Dust Dogs would’ve come here anyway. We’re in the calm before the storm together.”

Drew was still feeling raw after his admission to Vera, so he started with the easiest part—when he found out the truth about what exactly the Dust Dogs were up to.

“I’d been running with them for a few months when I overheard Roth talking to someone about something he’d found,” he began. “A key that unlocked something powerful hidden underneath the town. Something supernatural that would help them become the dominant pack in the country.”

“Wait, how many packs are there?” Wally asked, sitting across from him.

“Five or six, I don’t know,” Drew replied. “I still don’t know how Roth got his hands on the key, but it doesn’t matter. He had it.”

“You knew about the seal when you were with them?” Blue asked.

“They weren’t in the business of telling me anything,” he went on. “I was still new. Unproven. Packs have a hierarchy. Alpha, beta…” He waved his hands, counting on each finger. “The Dust Dogs follow a military-style rank system, kind of like human bikies do. Lieutenants, sergeant… I only overheard because I can’t leave well enough alone. By the time I figured out what they were up to, Roth had the key.”

“What made you take it?” Kyne asked. “We didn’t know you then.”

Drew grimaced. The elemental was right. He’d owed Solace nothing then and hadn’t even met Vera or the other Exiles. “I didn’t come until the night I overheard their plans,” he explained. “They were going to roll into Solace and shoot the place up. Take it by force. They knew the seal was here, and they knew you wouldn’t let it go without a fight. I… I never signed up for that shit. I might be an idiot dingo, but I’m not a killer.”

“No, I don’t believe you are,” Hardy said, watching him closely, not elaborating which thing—killer or idiot—he meant.

Drew glared at the vampire. “I wanted to see what you were like. If you were the same as them. But… Vera was nice to me. She gave me a job and a place to stay. Vera…” He trailed off, his thoughts on the witch who’d saved his life twice now. No one had ever stuck their neck out for him, not until her.

“So, you decided to steal the key,” Blue mused.

Drew could only nod, his throat tight. There was no way in hell he was crying in front of these guys. Man, if Finn was here, the fae would have a field day.

“Where did you bury it?” Hardy asked.

“Out in the scrub,” he replied, “about thirty K’s past the windmill to the northwest. It’s under a boab. Uh… Coen told me it was a safe place.”

Kyne snorted. “Bloody Coen.”

“Coen might know things we don’t, but it’s probably best to get the key and bring it back to Solace,” Hardy said. “Eloise said that others would come looking, and if they’re looking—”

“Anyone could dig it up,” Wally finished.

They all looked to Drew. The attention made him sink his shoulders and he lowered his gaze.

“What do you reckon, Drew?” Kyne asked.

He looked up again, surprised they’d care after all the trouble he’d caused. “You’re asking me?”

“Mate, you’re one of us,” Hardy told him. “Of course, we’re asking you.”

He blinked, struck dumb by their easy acceptance. He’d fought for everything his entire life—his grandpa’s approval, his place in a pack, work, food, money, everything—and this… He didn’t know what to do with it.

“I want to help,” he told him. “I want to take you.”

“Mate, you can barely walk faster than a shuffle,” Hardy said. “If the Dust Dogs come sniffing around, you’d better stay hidden. You’re in no condition to fight, though I know you want to.”

The vampire had hit the nail on the head. “The Dust Dogs didn’t just screw with me or this town,” Drew snarled. “They murdered my entire pack. This is about more than a key to me.”

The Exiles were silent for a while, their expressions equal amounts of troubled.

“I gather you only just found out,” Kyne said, breaking the awkward silence.

Drew nodded. “I challenged Roth. It was the only way I could get out of their camp, but I never got to finish what I started.”

“Shit,” Hardy cursed. “And I just left him in that clearing. If it wasn’t for Coen, I would’ve already taken his head.”

Drew looked up. “Coen was there?”

The vampire nodded. “Yeah. He told me not to bother. Getting you back was more important. Now I wish I’d done something.”

The dingo shook his head. The kadaitcha… Had it just been Hardy, or was it Coen? The answer didn’t seem to matter.

“Maybe he died anyway,” Blue mused. “That’s why he asked you to leave him.”

“No,” Drew said. “The entire pack was on the hunt. They knew exactly where he was. Roth will be back.”

“All the more reason to get the key to Solace before they sniff it out,” Kyne said. “Hardy?”

The vampire nodded, his gaze still on Drew. “I’ll go get it, but we should figure out where to keep it.”

“It has to be one person,” Blue said, speaking up. “One person hides and knows the whereabouts. The more people who know, the more opportunities others have of finding it.”

Everyone looked to Kyne, who sighed sharply.

“You can hide things places no one other than another elemental could ever get to,” Wally told him. “Unless you have a better idea.”

Kyne’s eyes narrowed, but he agreed. “Right. I’ll find a place.”

“Uh,” Wally said, raising his hand. “What does this key look like? I’m imagining a key, but there ain’t no keyhole on that seal.”

“It’s a flat, round rock,” Drew told them. “About yay big.” He held up his hand and traced around his palm. “And about an inch thick. It’s a strange kind of pinkish crystal with darker flecks through it like a vein of quartz. I wrapped it in an old hessian bag.”

Kyne frowned. “I wonder what kind of mineral it is.”

“Well, you’ll be able to tell us when we get it back here,” Wally said. “It might give us a clue as it what’s behind the seal.”

“I don’t think I want to know,” Drew murmured.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” Hardy said, then he flew out of the pub so fast, Drew almost blinked and missed the door opening and closing.

He went to stand, his joints stiff and aching. Vera would be waiting for him.

“Stay right there,” Blue said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Breakfast’s up. Someone fetch Vera, and Eloise if she’s back.”

Kyne nodded and rose. “I’ll get Vera. I don’t think Eloise will be back until later.”

As the elemental left, Wally turned to Drew. “You up for some grub?”

“Always,” he told them. “Shifting’s hungry work.”

The werewolf grinned. “Sure is.”

“Before I whack on an apron, just promise us old timers one thing,” Blue said.

Drew nodded, his eyes wide.

“Don’t keep any more secrets from us,” Wally finished. “Us Exiles are family, and family helps one another.”

The dingo’s hands began to shake and he reached for the beer. “I promise.”

Chapter 23

Eloise was climbing out of the shaft underneath the boab when she spotted Kyne walking down the road.

His black hat shaded his face from the sun and his T-shirt clung to his chest just so. She bit her bottom lip, her gaze following his movements as Coen climbed out of the shaft behind her.

Eloise had never felt so drawn to someone before. Was that what attraction was supposed to feel like? Despite their argument, all she wanted to do was know everything about him, and she wasn’t just talking about his hopes and dreams.

Coen closed the metal hatch and kicked some dirt over the top. Seeing Kyne, he smiled at her. “It didn’t take much convincing.”

She turned. “Huh?”

He nodded towards Kyne, who’d spotted them standing by the boab. “For him to return. For him to help.” He chuckled as she flushed.

“Coen…”

“We’ve done all we can,” he told her. “Now we wait.”

“Hey,” Kyne said as he approached. “There you are.”

“Coen and I were just…” She turned, only to find the Indigenous man had disappeared.

“Coen?” Kyne frowned and looked around.

“He was just here,” Eloise said, scratching her head. “He took me to see the seal.”

Kyne whistled. “Really? So, you’ve seen it now?”

“Yeah, but… He was just here.” She looked around but there was nowhere for him to hide.

“Don’t mind him.” Kyne didn’t seem surprised. “He comes and goes.”

“Does he do that often?”

“All the time.”

Putting yet another Coen mystery out of her mind, she asked, “Did I miss anything?”

“Yeah, Drew told us about the Dust Dogs and the infamous key.”

“He did?” Her eyebrows rose. “What did he say?”

Kyne relayed the story to her—about how Drew was running with the dingoes, how they operated, how the alpha Roth had come to have the key, how and why Drew stole it, and about his relationship with Vera.

“He was just trying to keep us safe,” Kyne added. “But the Dust Dogs were coming here with or without him.”

“At least we have it now,” Eloise said. “And Drew is safe and sound.”

“He’ll have those scars for the rest of his life.” He frowned, his gaze turning towards the horizon.

“Where is the key now? Did he say?”

“Yeah. Hardy went out to get it,” he replied. “I’m the lucky bastard who got to hide it and the only person to know where.”

“Well, I know how you love responsibility.”

Kyne groaned and pulled her close. “I didn’t know you were a comedian in training.”

“What does it look like?”

“The Eloise Hart Comedy Club or the key?”

“The key.” She elbowed his side, his joke easing her anxiety over the upcoming standoff.

“It’s this round, pinkish crystal,” he replied. “Part coral, salt, and quartz. The pink makes me think it’s chalcedony.”

“Chalcedony? What’s that?”

“It’s a form of silica, but not really like opal. It’s more like quartz, but only looks like crystal under a microscope. Quartz is used a lot by supernaturals. Vera says it amplifies and stores magic.”

“Like a supernatural keycard?”

“That’s one theory.”

Eloise thought about what she’d just seen down in the mine and didn’t remember anywhere a key could be put in the bluestone slab or the surrounding wall. Maybe it was a good thing no one knew how it worked, then the seal would stay shut forever.

“Did you find her?” Kyne asked.

She blinked. “Huh?”

“Andante? Did you and Coen manage to find her?”

She shook her head. “No. Apparently, she’s the kind of women who does the finding, not the other way around.”

“So Coen knew her?”

“Oh yeah, for sure. He implied she lived in another dimension, which I would’ve totally thought was crazy two weeks ago. Finn’s from another world, so who am I to argue otherwise?” She sighed. “So we’re on our own, I guess.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Kyne told her. “We’ve got six different supernatural races living here, each with unique abilities. We’re not exactly starting out on the back foot.”

“So it’s like the Avengers. We just…assemble?”

Kyne laughed at the analogy. “Yeah, we have costumes and everything.”

“Do not,” Eloise said with a pout.

“Yeah, no costumes. Wearing spandex out here would be a sweaty nightmare.”

She laughed softly before her expression began to fade. “Coen knows things. Things he isn’t saying.”

Kyne grunted and ran his fingers through her hair, teasing the feather behind her ear. “He never says exactly what he means. It’s always in riddles or stories.”

“He told me about the Rainbow Serpent. It was like he was hinting at something. He said when the time came, I’d know.” When the river ebbs…

“That’s classic Coen,” he told her. “Worrying over his advice won’t help anything. If he said you’ll know, then you’ll know.”

“I guess.” Knowing Coen was going to take some getting used to, just like everything else in Solace. “Hey, when Coen touched me…” She hesitated, not knowing the right words.

“Nothing happened?” Kyne asked.

She nodded.

“See? I told you. Once you get a handle on your powers, you’ll never have to worry again.”

“Is it, though?” When Kyne screwed up his face, she added, “I get the feeling there’s more to him than we realise.”

“Of course there is, but that’s for him to reveal if he wants. It’s the man’s character that matters.”

Eloise shrugged. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right.”

“Hey, are you hungry? Blue told me to send you in if you were.”

She shook her head. “I’m too anxious to eat.”

“Don’t give yourself an ulcer.”

“I might turn into one by the time this is over,” she replied. “But it’ll never be over over, will it?”

“That seal has been there a hell of a long time,” Kyne replied, his brow creasing. “I reckon it will still be there long after we’re dead and gone.”

“And the Dust Dogs… What are we doing about them?”

“There’s nothing we can do but wait. Solace is still a town frequented by humans. The highway runs straight through the middle. We can’t set traps. What if a road train comes along? A family in a caravan?” Kyne was just as troubled as she was, but he was right. “Vera is watching the road with magic, and I hope Finn and the fae are watching the other borders.”

“You hope?”

“The fae have always been separate from Solace. They’re welcomed friends, but not really Exiles. Finn speaks for them and is the only one who comes into town. They have just as much to lose as we do when the Dust Dogs attack. They’ll help if they want to keep their place here.”

They fell silent as the rumble of a truck droned in the distance. Moving to the shade of the Outpost’s verandah, they waited until the huge road train came into view at the southern end of Solace. The big silver and black truck was hauling three long trailers and barely slowed. The driver held up a hand, giving them the traditional truckie courtesy wave as he passed.

“I still need to fix Wally’s mine,” Kyne said as the road train faded into the shimmering mirage on the horizon.

“We have more pressing matters,” Eloise said. “I think he’ll understand.”

“Yeah, but you’re not the only one who needs a distraction.”

The trouble was, distractions were plentiful around Solace. The Dust Dogs were one, as was what she’d done last night. It’d only been half a day, but so much had happened since.

“Kyne? About last night. I—”

“Don’t worry about the mine,” he interrupted. “I was going to dig a new exploratory hole at the other end of the claim anyway. Just need to get in the right machinery.”

“No, it’s not that…though I’m still sorry.” He didn’t say anything, already knowing where her thoughts lay. “When you found your father, what did he say? What was he like?”

Kyne took off his hat and wiped his forearm across his brow before putting it back on. He squinted, his gaze moving across the road. For a moment, Eloise thought he wasn’t going to say anything, but he sat on the old wooden bench outside the Outpost and sighed.

“The elementals, they’re not human. Not like you and me,” he murmured as she sat beside him. “They’re shapeshifters and move with nature. They’re air, water, fire, earth, and spirit. They can be whatever they want—men, women, animals, the wind, the rain...” he gestured to the boab, “a tree. Whatever. I went to the wildest, most remote place I could think of. One of the few places in this country humans haven’t walked.”

“Where?” Eloise asked. She’d gone many places, but only where roads had led her.

“In the Pilbara,” he replied. “There are no roads, no tracks, no footprints. Harsh, wild country. Without my powers, I would’ve died out there, but I found them deep within the twisting gorges. There was this deep, round billabong with water with a strange, blueish-green hue. I found him there, though ‘him’ is a loose term for what an elemental is. He chose to become male, that’s all. I knew it was him because I felt it in my soul. My power called to his and he alone came for me, though I knew more waited just beyond my sight.”

“What did he say?”

“Nothing,” Kyne murmured, his gaze falling. “He said nothing at all.”

“Nothing?” Eloise whispered.

“He cast me out, again, and the next thing I remembered, I was laying on the ground a hundred kilometres away.” He snorted. “At least he had the good sense to leave me where I left my ute parked.”

“Maybe he does care…a little.”

Kyne shook his head. “They don’t want us. We’re just a byproduct of their curiosity.”

Eloise snorted. “Well, screw them.”

Kyne looked up with a raised eyebrow.

“We don’t need them,” she went on. “We make our own way, and if all we got from them was some cool powers, then we’ve got some cool powers.”

His lips quirked. “You think they’re cool now?”

“Hell yeah. As soon as I figure out how to stop zapping people’s brains and imploding mines, then we’re all cool. I’m relieved, actually. I was starting to think I was a succubus.”

Kyne laughed and knocked her hat off. “Maybe you are.” He pressed a kiss to her lips, making her entire body tingle. “So, about your van…”

She’d been thinking about that. “Well—”

Just then, the door to the Outpost crashed open, breaking them apart, and Vera hurtled out onto the verandah.

“I hate to break up the kissing corner,” the witch blurted, “but we have incoming.”

Kyne shot to his feet. “The Dust Dogs?”

“Yeah, and by the feel of it, it’s the whole bloody pack.”

Eloise picked up her hat, her hands shaking. She guessed the river was about to ebb sooner rather than later.

As she followed Vera and Kyne to the pub, she hoped Coen was right.

All the Exiles were gathered in the pub when Eloise, Kyne, and Vera rushed in.

“Where’s the fire?” Finn drawled, leaning against the bar.

“They’re coming,” Vera told them. “Now.”

Blue frowned and took the tea towel off his shoulder, rubbing his hands on the fabric. “How long?”

The witch shrugged. “Ten minutes, tops.”

The publican nodded and reached under the bar. Eloise swallowed hard as he took out a sawn-off shotgun and a box of shells. She’d never seen a gun this close before, let alone seen one fired. Things were suddenly becoming glaringly real.

“What do we do?” Vera asked, eyeballing the shotgun.

“Stand and fight,” Wally said. “I see no other way.”

“We’ve talked about this day for a long time,” Kyne spoke up. “What we’d do if anyone ever came. Well, we’ve got to be done talking. We’ve all got powers, and we have to be prepared to use them, no matter the cost.” He looked around at the Exiles, his gaze settling on Drew, who was huddled in the corner, looking worse for wear. “Drew, I know you’re not going to like it, but you have to stay out of sight. You’re in no condition to fight.”

“They killed my family.” The shifter glared at the elemental. “I have more of a right than you do to kill them all.”

“No one said anything about killing,” Kyne told him.

“Then how are we going to stop them from coming back?”

Finn glared openly at Drew. “As long as I get to spill some dingo blood, then I say we’re even.”

“Finn, don’t,” Hardy said.

“I’ve seen his face,” the fae drawled. “Don’t have to see the rest of him to know karma got his arse.”

“Finn,” Vera snapped.

“Look at you.” Finn grinned at the witch and wiggled his eyebrows. “You know about karma.”

“Shut the hell up,” Kyne snapped. “We haven’t got time for this.”

Eloise took a deep breath and stepped forwards. “We’re on our own. Andante was out of my reach. Coen—”

“Where is Coen?” Finn interrupted. “Huh? Why isn’t he here?”

“Because it’s not his nature to fight,” Hardy replied.

Drew rose abruptly, his chair falling backwards. “Shut up, all of you,” he snarled. “The Dust Dogs won’t stop and wait for us to finish fighting amongst ourselves. We have to go out there and show them how powerful we are. That’s the only thing they understand.”

Eloise nodded. She’d thought the same thing. The Dust Dogs were bullies, but they were also not afraid to back it up with violence. They’d kill them if they weren’t convincing enough.

Kyne met her gaze. “Are you ready for this?”

Everyone turned to look at her, the newcomer who may or may not be staying to see the aftermath.

“Yes,” Eloise replied. “Drew is right. We go out there and show them just how powerful we really are. We’re stronger together.”

Wally stood and took the shotgun off Blue. “You still got that rifle?”

Blue nodded. “Yeah. Out back.”

“On the roof,” Wally told him. “We can withstand most wounds, you can’t. We’ll need cover.”

Vera’s gaze flew to the door, her eyes glassy. “They’re almost here.”

“Quick,” Kyne said. “Drew, stay here.”

“But—”

“We almost lost you once,” the elemental interrupted, “and we won’t risk it again.”

“Whatever.” The shifter growled low in his throat and sat back down as the Exiles left the pub.

Eloise was last, and she turned around. “Is it justice…or revenge that you’re looking for?”

“Justice,” Drew replied without hesitation. “It wasn’t just my pack they murdered.”

She nodded once, then went outside.

Crossing the yard, Eloise went and stood beside Kyne on the road outside the Outpost, her boots resting on the white line painted in the centre. Below the asphalt, she felt the soft vibration of the seal as her stomach churned.

The Dreaming carried you to this place. When the river ebbs, you will know.

Hardy stood on her right, and Vera beside him. Wally and Finn took the left beside Kyne. Behind them, she knew Blue was on the roof of the pub, watching over them with a rifle in hand.

Silver shone in the distance, the first glimpse of the pack wavering through the mirage on the horizon. Eloise’s hand went to the feather in her hair, the feel of it comforting as her knees started to shake.

The Exiles watched the Dust Dogs roll into Solace, the roar of their motorcycles deafening as they lined up across the width of the road, leaving a good twenty metres of space between them.

Eloise counted eighteen, nineteen, twenty… Twenty-five dingo shifters, all men and each armed with either a shotgun, handgun, or rifle.

They all turned off their engines in unison, kicking their legs over their bikes and forming a line in front of them.

A large man walked out in front of the shifters, a shotgun in his right hand. At well over six foot tall, he was a wall of bald, tattooed, muscle. It looked like he’d been in a hell of a fight. His face, arms, and neck were covered in bites and gashes in various stages of healing, just like Drew. Eloise assumed this was the alpha he’d told them about. Roth.

“Well, well, well, we seem to have ourselves a good old-fashioned Mexican standoff,” Roth said. He laughed and pretended to shoot his shotgun. “Bang, bang.”

The Dust Dogs laughed, the sound echoing down the road towards the Exiles.

“I feel like we’re in the Wild West. Who wants to quick draw?” He pointed the shotgun at each of them, settling on Hardy. “You? Think you’re fast enough?”

“You really think you’re faster than a vampire, mate?” Hardy drawled.

His grin widened, then he shouted, “We want the shifter! And we want the key!”

“We’re going to take a pass,” Kyne said, angling himself slightly in front of Eloise. “We’re not giving you anything.”

“Oh, pardon me,” Roth drawled. “This isn’t a discussion. If you don’t give us the shifter and the key, we start shooting.” He pointed the shotgun at the Outpost and fired.

The boom was so loud, Eloise pressed her hands over her ears and Vera cried out as the front window exploded. Glass tinkled as it scattered across the veranda and blew into the store.

“The shifter and the key,” Roth demanded. “Then we’ll talk about the seal…and the longevity of your lives.”

A crash sounded behind them and a voice shouted, “You want me? Here I am!”

The Exiles turned as Drew strode from the pub and up the road, limping as he went.

“Drew, you idiot,” Vera hissed. “Stay back.”

“Well, this just got interesting,” Eloise heard Finn drawl.

“You and me,” Drew shouted at Roth, pushing past the Exiles. “We settle this between shifters.”

“Hear that?” The alpha laughed, the pack following suit. “The bastard can’t even walk in a straight line and he wants to fight me.” His laughter faded and his expression turned dark. “You got yourself a deal, boy.”

Eloise saw Roth lift the shotgun a second before Drew did. The alpha fired as she shoved past Kyne and lifted her hand, raising the wind.

Hardy reacted just as quickly. The vampire snatched the shotgun out of the alpha’s hands, but not before the shell left the barrel and hurtled towards Drew.

The wind roared in a violent gust, buffeting the shifters, almost knocking them flat…and forced the shell to fly into the air, passing harmlessly by Drew’s right ear and into the sky.

He turned and stared at Eloise as she grabbed his arm, too shocked to say a word.

The river ebbs… In that moment, Eloise knew. She finally understood.

“Get behind me,” she said, completely unafraid.

Raising her hands, the earth splintered, the asphalt rose into the air with a deafening crack that made the buildings and the power poles shudder.

The debris surrounded the Dust Dogs, hemming them in, the Exiles safe behind her. They looked around in terror, shouting and trying to flee, but there was no way through. The dingoes were trapped.

Drew stood beside her wide-eyed. “Eloise?”

“Justice is yours if you want it, but do it now,” she told him. “One shot.”

Hardy handed Drew the shotgun. “Are you sure?”

The dingo nodded and raised the gun. “This is justice, not revenge.”

“I’ll kill you, boy,” Roth snarled, pushing against the barrier before them. “Just try it.”

Drew’s hand shook, then he pulled the trigger.

The boom shattered the air, the shell flying forwards with a force Eloise felt explode in her bones. Roth’s head snapped back and he fell into a heap, the pack falling silent. They stared at shock at the alpha, their menacing bravado dissolving. Without a leader, they didn’t seem to know what to do.

Eloise’s stomach rolled and her fingertips began to tingle. She didn’t dare look down. She understood what death and killing were, but seeing it…? She was taking a hard pass.

“So, does this mean you’re the alpha now?” she asked, trying not to notice the red puddle pooling beneath Roth. “Is that how it works?”

Drew grunted, his glare focused on the remaining shifters. “While I live, they’ll follow me if I make them, but I don’t want it.” He glanced back at the Exiles. “I’ve already got a pack.”

“Then… I think I can…” She screwed up her face, concentrating. “Dingoes like the desert, right?”

Drew peered at her, confused. “What—”

But she’d already made up her mind.

Twisting her hands, she imagined the splintered asphalt rotating around the Dust Dogs. The debris responded, spinning once, then she envisioned the golden sand dunes of the first place she could think about—the Middle East—then lowered her hands.

The asphalt fell back to earth, slotting into the road like puzzle pieces, setting everything back just the way it’d been…except Roth, the Dust Dogs, and their motorcycles were gone. Vanished.

“What the hell…” Drew gaped at the scene before them as the other Exiles came towards them. “What did you just do?”

“Ether,” she said, staring at the empty road. “My element of choice.”

Chapter 24

The sound of a cordless drill screeched through the stillness of the early evening.

Drew stood beside Vera, watching Hardy and Kyne install a large piece of chipboard over the Outpost’s broken window. Behind them, he could hear Wally and Eloise in the garage, fussing over her motorhome.

He squinted at the window, leaning on the broom he’d used to sweep up the broken glass, much to Vera’s complaints. His tendency to do the opposite of what she told him was still well and truly alive.

“Can’t any of you use magic to fix it?” he asked, nodding at the window.

Vera shook her head. “Sometimes it’s best to let science and human hands put things back together.”

They fell silent as Kyne put the last screw into place, the drill buzzing noisily. “There. All done.”

“Thanks,” Vera said. “I’ll call a glazier in the morning.”

“Was anything inside damaged?” Hardy asked. “That glass splintered real good.”

“A couple of scratches, but nothing bad. Still haven’t found the shell, though.” She took the broom off Drew. “I’ve been thinking…”

“Here we go,” the elemental said with a laugh.

“A thinking witch is a dangerous witch,” Hardy added to the joke.

“What about?” Drew asked.

“I want you to stay,” she told him. “But you need to get your own place.”

“Way to rip off the bandaid,” Hardy remarked.

“It’s not like that,” the witch complained, turning to Drew. “You’re starting over. Wouldn’t you like your own space?”

Drew raised his eyebrows. He hadn’t even thought about it. Living in a tent was as good as he’d had it for a long time. Vera’s couch had been like a five-star resort, especially compared to his grandpa’s house. But his own home…? A place that was just his, with walls, a roof, and everything that went in one? It was a dream that he’d never even considered because it was so far out of his reach, it may as well be on Mars. He had twenty bucks to his name; he’d never be able to afford anything like that. Ever.

He felt his face turn red and he lowered his gaze. Wiping his arm across his brow, he tried to cover his embarrassment.

“I know a place not too far from here,” Kyne said, pretending not to see. “Just up the ridge a little. Old miner’s camp. The front will need some elbow grease, but the back section is cut into the side of the ridge. It’s got an electrical hook up, but needs a new water tank.”

“One of the old timer’s gold mines?” Hardy asked.

“Yep. They never found anything, but the workings are still there. Some bloke turned it into a house.”

Vera glanced at Drew. “Who owns it now?”

The shifter shrugged and swallowed hard. “It doesn’t matter. I’ve got my swag.”

“You’re not sleeping outside in a sleeping bag,” Vera raged. “No way. Once the rains come, you’ll float away.”

“I own it,” Kyne said before the shifter and witch could start arguing. “That whole ridge up until the rear of Blue’s is mine.”

“Sneaky bugger,” Hardy declared, giving away that he didn’t know about the elemental’s side career as a real estate mogul.

“What?” He shrugged. “You think I just leave all the money I fleece from you in a bank account?”

The vampire chuckled. “At least I’m reinvesting in Solace via that fleecing.”

“What do you reckon, Drew?” the elemental asked. “Up for some renovation work?”

“I-I don’t…” He swallowed hard. “I can’t pay you.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said with a wave of his hand. “Since Eloise caved in Black Hole Mine, I’ve got some time on my hands. It’s gunna take a while to get machinery out here to start again.”

Hardy gaped. “Eloise did what?”

“Bam.” Kyne slapped his hands together. “Crumpled it like a bit of paper.”

The vampire scratched his head. “Well, I guess you don’t have to pay to rehab the claim.”

Drew watched their back and forth numbly. They’d seemed to have already made the decision for him, but there’d been no talk of money.

“But…” he began. Kyne stepped down off the verandah and put his hands on the shifter’s shoulders.

“I was going to do something with it anyway. Win, win, eh?”

It was a blatant lie, but he wasn’t going to argue. The Exiles had won his trust a long time ago. If Kyne said not to worry, then he probably shouldn’t.

Hardy checked his watch. “It’s almost seven.”

Vera smiled at Drew and nodded at the pub. “You hungry?”

“Yeah.”

Kyne whistled, the sharp sound echoing across the road. “Grub’s up!”

Wally and Eloise emerged from the depths of the garage and waved. The werewolf closed the roller door with a slam, then they crossed to meet them.

After Vera had locked up the Outpost, they walked together to the pub.

Drew hung back, his stomach rumbling, his mind churning. His ears still rang with the sound of the gunshot that delivered the justice his family deserved.

The Dust Dogs were gone, just like that, and he still wasn’t sure how to feel about it.

“Hey, Eloise?” he called.

She turned, her blue eyes sparkling in the light of the blazing sunset.

He waited until the others had gone inside. “I just wanted to tell you… I… Thank you.”

She smiled and he thought she looked happier than the first time he’d met her that night beside the pub. Despite him being naked and exhausted, she’d never looked away from his gaze…or down into the danger zone. The way someone met a stranger’s gaze said a lot to a dingo.

“Are you all right?” she asked. “It’s been heavy. Not just today.”

Drew was tongue-tied. He knew she was with Kyne, but he found her beautiful. There was something in her gaze that he found comforting. Like she knew all the right things to say but didn’t have to actually say them aloud.

Finally, he managed to nod. “I will be.”

“Time heals all wounds.” Her smile widened. “At least, that’s what people say.”

“I suppose.”

“Can I ask you something?”

He blinked, his left eye throbbing. “Yeah.”

“The alpha… Is it the same as werewolves? Wally told me a bit about it, but I know shifters are different.”

“Yeah, like werewolves, it’s the alpha who controls the pack,” he said with a nod.

“So the pack would’ve followed Roth here, regardless?”

“Maybe, but there’s no way of knowing. Roth was the problem. He was responsible for the path the pack took. Now he’s gone.”

“Would they have followed you if you’d asked them to leave?”

Drew grimaced. That was a loaded question. “If I forced them to, maybe. There would’ve been another challenge and…” He shrugged. “My arse would’ve been kicked.” There was no use skirting around it. He wasn’t the strongest shifter and definitely not leadership material.

Eloise turned thoughtful for a moment. “So, without a way to get to their alpha, they can’t pick a new one…or lead themselves out of a one-way street.”

Drew stared at her, suddenly realising why she’d sent them away. He hoped she’d decide to stay. Solace—and the seal—would be better with her around.

He glanced at Wally’s garage. “So, what’s the verdict on your van?”

Eloise smiled. “Let’s go in,” she said instead. “I bet there’s going to be one hell of an epic debrief over dinner.”

Eloise held open the door for Drew and they went into the pub.

She breathed deeply, her nostrils filling with the scent of beer and cooking. Blue was bashing about in the kitchen, trying to shoo away Finn from the deep frier. No doubt there was a fresh batch of chips bubbling away.

Tonight, the publican had a mixed CD of classic INXS loaded into the CD player, which was currently playing ‘New Sensation’. Eloise shook her head at the irony of the lyrics and went over to the Exiles, who’d taken over the middle table.

“Hey,” Kyne said, patting the empty chair beside him. “How’s the van?”

“I know what a head gasket looks like now,” she replied, much to Wally’s amusement. “So, I guess it’s off to a good start.”

“So…” Vera began, leaning back in her chair, “are we going to talk about what happened?”

All eyes turned to Eloise, who immediately felt her cheeks heat. She wasn’t used to attention, let alone having elemental powers. She needed to decompress just as much, if not more, than the others.

“Where did you send them exactly?” Hardy asked, taking the pressure off her a little.

“Right about now, they’re in a desert in the Middle East,” she told them. “Though, I’m not quite sure which Middle East.”

“I knew it,” Vera whispered.

“Knew what?” Eloise asked.

“The fifth element,” Kyne told her. “Ether isn’t just spiritual…it’s the thing that binds us all together.”

“Reality,” Eloise murmured.

“That’s why you can alter people’s minds,” Hardy added. “And probably why you’re the only one of us who’s ever met this mysterious Andante.”

The pieces of the puzzle were finally slotting together.

Eloise looked up at Kyne. “Coen talked about the river, how it ebbs and flows, never in a straight line. He was talking about reality, but it wasn’t until I was out there, that I felt it.”

“The river ebbed…” Kyne murmured.

She nodded. “I can only manipulate what’s there, and it was there when we needed it.”

“Thank goodness,” Vera declared. “If we ever get into an argument, I’d hate to be accidentally teleported across the planet.”

“Food’s ready,” Blue called from the kitchen. “Come and get what you like.”

The Exiles loaded up their plates with a cornucopia of traditional Aussie pub food—chicken parma, battered fish, roast veggies, hot chips, and salad—and Blue poured drinks. Cider for Eloise and Vera, and beer for the men. They settled back at the table and ate in silence for a while, listening to the music…and their own thoughts.

Eloise mulled over everything that’d happened since arriving in Solace, and even long before she’d ever heard of the little outback town. Her dreams had been filled with recurring visions that’d only played out once arriving. The knocks, the hand reaching towards her, and the mysterious black mountain.

There were things that still felt unresolved, things that were beyond her control but had everything to do with her presence in Solace.

“I think…” Eloise began, setting her fork down, “I think you should know something.”

Kyne tensed beside her, but it was Hardy who spoke. “Which is?”

She took a deep breath. “I’ve been having dreams for years, dreams of things that have only happened in real life since I arrived here.”

“The dreams that matched my vision,” Vera added in understanding.

“What vision?” Finn demanded, triggering a hurried explanation from the witch that also brought Wally and Blue up to speed.

Eloise bit her bottom lip as her thoughts went to the strange peak of black, volcanic rock.

“The only thing that hasn’t come true is the black mountain,” Vera said, bringing her thoughts back to the present.

“Now you all know what I do,” Eloise finished. “That something bigger than myself led me here. That there’s still something unexplained in play.”

“A black mountain,” Kyne mused. “I wonder why?”

“I believe it has something to do with the seal,” Eloise told them. “Everything that’s happened is because of it. I was meant to come here, but I don’t know why.”

“Coen has said on multiple occasions that you fly like Bunjil,” Hardy remarked. “Bunjil is a creator spirit. A great, wedge-tailed eagle from the Dreamtime stories in the south of Victoria.”

The feather. Eloise brushed her fingers over it. It was still in her hair where Coen had weaved it with her blonde locks. “Protection,” she murmured. “Andante told me I walked close to the spirits. That they were attracted to me.”

“That’s probably why you’re the only one of us to ever see a kadaitcha,” Wally told her.

Drew frowned, but he worked up the courage to speak. “I saw a shadow when I was hurt, but I don’t know…” He shook his head.

Eloise glanced at Hardy. Maybe it had just been the vampire…or Coen. Both were still mysteries to her, but she trusted both with her life. Actions spoke louder than words, which was something she’d learned the hard way.

“I don’t…” She tried to put her concern into words but couldn’t quite manage it.

“You saved us today,” Vera said. “You alone.”

“Who knows who would’ve been hurt or killed if it wasn’t for you,” Wally said. “If something led you here, it wasn’t because you’re a threat.”

“Quite the opposite, I reckon,” Blue added.

Eloise’s eyes widened. “I’m worried about what the mountain means. Today was… Well, it was just one day.”

“A pretty epic day,” Finn declared. “Get over it. You’re good.”

Vera snorted. “You could’ve put it more eloquently. I thought fae were supposed to be poetic.”

“Nah,” he drawled. “Poetry is a witch thing. Blessed be.”

“Now we have the key and the seal under our protection,” Kyne said before they could launch into a full-blown argument. “And thanks to Eloise and her meeting with Andante we know others will come. All we can do is wait and watch.”

“And prepare,” Vera added. “If the mountain means something for Solace, we’ll figure it out. If it means something for Eloise, then we’ll figure it out, too. Together.”

Eloise frowned, knowing the rest of their lives would be spent protecting the seal. Now that the Dust Dogs had come and been defeated, their attempt had sent up a flare into the universe, sending ripples across the rivers that wove through the Dreaming.

Did she want to be a part of it? Her dreams had all played out, except for the mountain, but there were no mountains around Solace for hundreds of kilometres.

“Eloise, have you put any thought into where you’ll go next?” Hardy asked, earning himself a sharp glare from Kyne.

It was the million-dollar question.

She looked around at the Exiles. At Wally, who was the sweetest old werewolf she’d ever met. Hardy, the vampire opal buyer who’d taught her the secrets of his trade. To Vera, the Irish witch who’d welcomed her with her open, yet eccentric arms. Drew, the dingo shifter, who, just like her, had stumbled into Solace at the lowest point of his life. Then Blue, the human publican who’d accepted her without a second thought. Even Finn and his sharp arrogance and pet snake had captured something inside of her that she’d thought was lost.

Coen wasn’t there, but she felt his spirit and knew he, and the marlu he called friend, wouldn’t be long in coming…if she called.

Then there was Kyne, complicated, handsome, just the right amount of mysterious, and a power that complemented her own. Kyne, who made her heart flutter. Kyne, who’d led her back to the world.

“Just know that you have a job if you want one,” the vampire added. “I could always use an elemental who polishes opal as well as you do. Just saying…”

Everyone stared at her with enormous smiles on their faces. She flushed again and picked up her cider, sipping the tangy drink to give herself a moment to think.

Kyne coughed loudly, drawing attention away from her. “Give her a break. She’s exhausted from using her powers.”

“No, she’s not,” Vera declared, leaning forwards. “It would be so good to have another woman here. We can meditate together again, and I can show you—”

“Oh, please,” Finn drawled, waving a hot chip at the witch. “Don’t be so needy.”

“Excuse me?” she exclaimed. “I’m just speaking my mind!”

“Yeah, your needy mind.” The fae snorted, then shoved the fried potato into his mouth.

Kyne slipped his hand into Eloise’s underneath the table, pressing something small into her palm. “Whatever you choose, we’ll respect it…” he murmured as her gaze met his, “but I’d really like you to stay.”

Looking down as he let his hand fall away, her breath caught. It was the black opal she’d cut—perfectly round, with a tiny imperfection along one edge. It flashed in the light as she tilted it from side-to-side, the red shining like flickering flames.

“Why did no one ever bribe me?” Finn declared to no one in particular.

They all laughed, and Eloise sat back, clutching the opal in her fist.

“For you,” Kyne said.

“For me?” she asked.

“Don’t look so shocked. Of course, it’s for you. Not just because of what you’ve done for Solace, but…” Kyne began to turn red and she grabbed his hand.

“Okay,” she told him. “On one condition…”

“Which is?”

“Find me someplace shady to park my van that’s in walking distance to town. I don’t do well in direct sunlight.”

“Neither do I,” Hardy quipped, making the Exiles laugh even harder.

“Is that all? A patch of shade?” Kyne asked, his smile widening. “Forget about it. I can do better than that. Much better.”

“Huh?” Eloise looked up at him, confused.

“Didn’t you hear?” Hardy asked with a wink. “He owns half of Solace courtesy of Black Hole Mine.”

“Damn, I shouldn’t have low-balled.” She raised her eyebrows and turned to the miner. “Then Mr. Moneybags better hook me up with some quality air-conditioning to go with that shade.”

Kyne chuckled. “I think that can be arranged.”

“Does that mean you’re staying?” Vera asked, fluttering her lashes hopefully. “Please say yes.”

Eloise nodded, her heart filling with a warmth she’d never felt before. “Was there ever any doubt?”

Outside, Coen looked up at the stars and grinned. The marlu sat beside him, the kangaroo’s whiskers twitching as it sniffed at the breeze.

Sounds of laughter echoed from the brightly lit pub, spilling out across the yard and road beyond. The leaves of the great gum bristled happily, the scent of warm eucalyptus filling his nose.

Everything was as it should be.

The grainy ochre dirt was pleasant underneath his bare feet and he stroked his palm over the kangaroo’s head. He didn’t mind the electricity, but it made his head buzz. The stars and land were much more pleasant. They were home.

“Come, Marlu,” he said to the kangaroo. “The river calls.”

With one last glance at the pub, Coen grinned. Yes, everything was as it should be.

He walked into the darkness of the outback, the kangaroo bouncing in his wake, and the Dreaming carried him home.

OTHER BOOKS IN THE

AUSTRALIAN SUPERNATURAL SERIES:

Outback Spirit #1

Sunburnt Country #2

…AND MORE TO COME!

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SUNBURNT COUNTRY

Australian Supernatural - Book Two

An ancient curse. A forgotten promise.

When the past comes knocking, maybe it’s best to keep the door closed.

After a lifetime of searching, elemental Eloise Hart has found a new home amongst the exiled supernaturals of the remote Australian Outback town of Solace. But just as she begins to settle, trouble begins to brew.

Like Eloise, witch Vera Walsh has a troubled past of her own, and when it comes knocking it awakens not only her guilt, but something far darker than she ever expected. Everything is at risk, including the one thing the Exiles of Solace vowed to protect above all else.

As arcane fire threatens to overwhelm them all, and the heavy hand of the law reaches towards them, the Exiles face the ultimate dilemma…

How far are they prepared go to keep their home from falling into the hands of evil?

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ABOUT NICOLE

Nicole R. Taylor is an Australian Urban Fantasy author.

She lives in the western suburbs of Melbourne dreaming up nail biting stories featuring sassy witches, duplicitous vampires, hunky shapeshifters, and devious monsters.

She likes chocolate, cat memes, and video games.

When she’s not writing, she likes to think of what she’s writing next.

Follow Nicole Online:

Website: www.nicolertaylorwrites.com

Facebook: facebook.com/nrtaylorwrites

Newsletter: www.nicolertaylorwrites.com/newsletter

Email: nicole.this.is@gmail.com

Want more novels just like this one? Check out Nicole’s other series:

THE ARONDIGHT CODEX - An ancient war with demons. A lost sword with the power to end it all. And a woman with purple hair is the world’s only hope.

THE CAMELOT ARCHIVE - Set in the same alternate Arthurian world seen in The Arondight Codex… Deadly secrets. Murder and revenge. The end of the world is nye and Camelot is the last bastion of hope.

THE WITCH HUNTER SAGA - Vampires and witches collide in this thrilling Urban Fantasy adventure. You’ve never met vampires quite like these…

THE CRESCENT WITCH CHRONICLES - Witches, shapeshifters, and ancient myth collide in this colourful Irish flavoured series! Come on an adventure fraught with danger and forbidden romance… and the ultimate battle to save magic before it's gone forever.

THE DARKLAND DRUIDS - A woman with no living relatives travels from Australia to the other side of the world to find out the truth of who she is…only to land in the middle of a prophecy of destruction. Druids, witches, fae, and shapeshifters abound in this thrilling magical adventure!

Find out more at: NicoleRTaylorWrites.com

See what titles are FREE at: Nicole’s Free Reads

Table of Contents

- Cover
- Title Page
- Copyright
- Contents
- Author Note
- 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

- Other Books in the Australian Supernatural Series…

- Next: SUNBURNT COUNTRY
- VIP Newsletter
- About Nicole
- More by Nicole