Amid the din of shouted bets and rumble of pounding fists in the poorly lit wine cellar, Neena’s disguise worked well. The air near crackled with the anticipation. Male bodies pressed and shoved. The sensations crept over her skin, tickling her scalp under the tightly wound scarf but her belly clutched with another feeling.

Terrible unease.

Unused to experiencing uncertainty at any level and she shifted on her feet. She scolded herself. She knew the outcome, not only of the brutal fight between the half-breed and werewolf, but much of the events to follow as well. Not only had grandmere foretold it. She herself had envisioned it countless times.

The man Taos would win. And when he did, she would leave with him this night. Perhaps the tension roiling through her limbs, forcing her here despite the danger, merely stemmed from the changes that this night would forever bring to her life.

That life, to begin after the half-vampire’s win loomed heavy in her mind. She would be leaving with him, aye, leaving the gypsy band - her family - behind for good. Seeing her destiny, anticipating it over many years, and being at its threshold were very different experiences. Tonight she risked severe retribution and ostracism for what? To glimpse her future unfolding? To prove to herself that this was truly, finally, the moment of change?

Though her sister Drina and she had worked out every possible detail of their scheme, Neena had to be certain this man was the one she was meant for. Drina did not know the truth of it, only that their switch would help her as well. Neena refused to make her elder sister and only friend worry.

Neena lifted to her tiptoes and strained to see past the broad shoulders standing in front of her. If only she could peer at the half-breed somehow she might quell her lingering doubts and the tension would leave her.

She scratched at the itchy, stolen clothing. The tunic and trousers hardly hid her curvy hips and small waist but the crowd of peerage and commoners paid little attention beyond the betting and brawl in the open area below the wood slatted runner where Neena and most others stood.

Waiting, sitting on her hands back in the women’s tent, didn’t suit Neena’s temperament. Neither did it now and she softly cursed the delay, likely created intentionally. She took a step back farther into the shadows as a man next to her moved closer to the ledge overlooking the makeshift fighting pit. The salty sweet scent of the flor and the sherry mingled with dust and sweat.

A shout below signaled the bout’s commencement. She imagined the two fighters circled each other, one stepping forth in threat then retreating, the other notching up his chin, daring with his eyes. But she could not see them. Not yet. Once the fight began, she might sneak forward, peer through the engrossed bodies to lay eyes on the man she would leave with tonight. She itched to do so now, but if someone recognized her to be a woman, banishment would be the least punishment.

"Hit him, hit the bastard idiot," a barrel-chested man called over the railing, money clutched in his hand and the stink of greed emanating from his pores.

Neena arched her neck, drew up a notch higher on her tip toes. Still she saw only more men in similar poses. The werewolf held favor to win. He was stout and fierce and carried a good reputation for near killing his opponent. Her brother Ramon had said more than once in these past two days that the wolf would kill tonight.

Part of her knew in truth such talk was designed to raise bets and hunger for blood among the spectators. She knew better than to believe the obvious gypsy tactic particularly when she felt so certain that the opponent not only would win but that he was the man she’d been in wait for these two years, never knowing when, only who, only how.

A hiss filled the air from below, gaining momentum and rising upward. The walls of the wine cellar seemed to expand as the spectators bodies leaned closer and grew a little quiet.

Neena chewed her lip, adjusted the tight wrap hiding her breasts under the tunic. She forced herself to stay, to listen. A loud smack and whir followed, then a roaring cheer.

She reminded herself she had no reason to be nervous. No one would notice her. Yet, her belly cinched with it as the sound of each blow fell and the crowd responded. An ebb and swell of energy permeated the air. She thought she might be sick from it, began questioning her conviction of this being her destiny.

Grandmere may have been wrong. Or worse, mayhap Neena misconstrued the gravelly words spoken at death’s gate.

Suddenly, her actions took on a shade of recklessness and stupidity that almost had her bolting from the shadows and out the side door she’d snuck in through.

A tall, sweaty body pressed her side. Neena held her breath.

"You can’t see a thing from back here," the man said. "Move up." He pushed her back with a firm hand.

Fear rippled through her. She knew that voice. Ramon. Her brother. The only person whose presence made her wary of her coming this night. Neena tucked her chin, curled her shoulders forward and lumbered closer. She dared not speak or look up lest he see through her men’s clothing and haul her away for a retribution she refused to think about.

But, Ramon kept moving, shouldering through the crowd to a short sweaty man holding a bet high in the air. Neither man at her sides bothered to look her way and barely accommodated her along the wood railing. She should have retreated back into the shadows and relied on her sense to gauge the bout. The risk of being recognized as an imposter was too high to remain. But when her eyes fell to the two fighters below, she could not move.

Her mind and body riveted to the scene and moment. The male scented air, heavy with thrill, surrounded her like a cloak and she saw what they saw. Primal, animalistic battle.

The werewolf was beginning his change but didn’t hesitate in swinging again and again, lunging, prancing at the half breed. Hair sprouted in thick tufts along his bare shoulders and abdomen. His jaw elongated, fangs protruded. Neena swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry.

But the half vampire, Taos, didn’t show any signs of fear or intimidation. He stood, legs apart, arms up and braced to defend. He watched the growling, evolving wolf before him dispassionately.

Neena’s gaze drank the image of him in. It was her first and she knew then, from this moment forward, her life would be different and permanently linked to his. Any lingering doubts vanished in a breath.

Taos.

Ramon had called him Taosin. Her grandmere named him Taos. His name meant the sun, in a language so ancient none alive could prove her wrong.

He dodged each swing, his shiny black hair, swinging and catching the light. His body was bare of hair and each muscle contouring his torso flexed and refracted light with every turn and duck. Neena could not see his eyes from her standpoint nor much of his features aside from his square jaw. Somehow, she didn’t need to. Her senses heightened with awareness of him.

A flutter danced in her belly. She silently willed him to look up though she knew such a move would be unwise and certainly unnecessary. She didn’t have the sort of influence over people to bid them so anyway. Not like Drina. Still, she wished for it, longed to see his face.

A crack shot through the air as the wolf’s closed fist contacted Taos’ chin. The men roared in approval. Taos stumbled under the blow. Neena’s hand went to her mouth. She stifled the cry of shock bubbling up her throat.

He wouldn’t lose. She’d seen it otherwise. Not visibly seen precisely but knew the outcome and chain of events to be true and coming all the same. But the wolf grew relentless, hitting and kicking Taos. Each blow drew more energy from the crowd and shrank Neena’s resolve. Seeing him at risk changed everything.

She should not have come, she shouldn’t be witnessing this. But she couldn’t move to leave.

A long thin string of blood stretched through the air from Taos’ mouth and the wolf took his fullest form without a full moon present. He arched on his legs and lunged forth for what looked to be Taos’ very vulnerable, exposed jugular.

Neena bit down on her lips and closed her eyes. Then she opened them again, willing what she saw to be false. This could not be. She was so sure he was the one her grandmother foretold of, who her own instincts had centered on for so long.

If he was not the man she’d been waiting for, so much would change. She would be forced to return to the women’s tent, truly and secretly shamed, and await her brother to choose which Romanov brute from the guest band might marry her.

Worse, should he discover or suspect her actions tonight, he could offer any man to sample her before she was sold in the Paris underground auctions the band would attend in less than a sennight.

The wolf’s jaw dripped with saliva as his head lowered in suspended motion toward Taos. The muscular neck below the cropped shiny black hair seemed to pulse in wait. Neena’s heart pounded with fear as the room’s energy intensified, pressing against her.

Then, in a rapid succession, Taos’s hand flew up and grasped the large hairy snout, snapping it shut. In a twist of such speed Neena had not before witnessed, Taos’ flung the wolf up and down. A puff of dirt came off the ground around the beast along with a strangled sound of surprise.

Neena’s chest squeezed in relief and hope. The spectators shouted and pressed, stunned and angered by the turn. A rush of pride coursed through Neena. Had she a deeper voice, she’d have bellowed encouragement as a few others did. Taos’ back curved over the beast whose eyes bulged in a clear show of fear and lack of air. Would he kill the werewolf? Would he release him once the fight was called?

The wolf brought his legs up and coiled them about Taos’ neck, knocking his balance enough to gain freedom. Taos recovered his stance and waited, posed, for the beast to scramble upwards to a stand. With a short hop, Taos’ pitched his leg upward, catching the wolf’s jaw with his toe. The wolf careened backward, growled and lunged forward. He landed a fist into Taos’ midsection only to be downed again by Taos’ kick.

Taos waited, bouncing on his feet, his face as impassive as ever, sweat beading on his brow and temples. As yet, Neena had not caught sight of his full face. But she hardly thought of it any longer. Her attention hung on the vision of his body rising from the apparent defeat.

The wolf stood, his chest heaving and head lowered. He looked wearied. Yet he faced his opponent with no more fear. Surely, he felt the loss looming over him as much as she did, as clearly as the calling watchers did.

He did not move with desperation though. And when Taos leapt into the air, spun and kicked his face, he did not flinch. A stream of blood flew from his mouth as heavy and long as that he’d wrung from Taos. The werewolf fell to his knees as Taos landed lightly to the ground. A death blow would be easy and merciless. Defeat emanated from the wolf and the beast in him looked to recede, his snout shrinking, his shoulders growing narrow.

A stillness hung in the air as the room collectively waited, wishing and wondering what Taos would do to overcome the werewolf.

Taos paused a moment, tilted his head and appeared to absorb the moment and downed opponent. Neena backed away from her place along the railing. As difficult as it was to do so, she had to return to the woman’s tent and to Drina. Drina would be worried. She would think Neena had changed her mind.

But she hadn’t. Now more than ever, she felt certain of her fate and this man. She would fulfill her promise to her sister and take her place as his prize. Destiny willing, she would be far from here before Ramon discovered their scheme and Drina would as well be safely absconded to elope with Jon Paul. The bands would be united, as Ramon wished, just not within the terms he’d dictated in Drina’s bride contract.

Drina’s true intended would be compensated well and Drina would be given over to her new family, shamed but accepted. The plan would work. Taos’ victory reassured her that it would and that she was in fact following her fate.

Neena took several steps into the shadows and slinked through the barrels of sherry toward the way she entered. The air cooled and thinned as she moved. A roar of approval and disappointment echoed behind her. She imagined the wolf lying dead at Taos feet. Her throat tightened. Somehow, she couldn’t believe the vision in her mind. Somehow, though she only knew him through prophecy and years of expectation, she didn’t believe him a man of such brutal character.

Half-man she reminded herself as she slipped into the night air, glanced about and rushed toward the grove of olive trees where the women’s tent sat quietly. The other half was vampiric. He was the seed of a soulless creature of the vilest make. She wondered if he recognized the power that ran through his veins, or if he fought it, denied its existence until circumstance allowed him to release it as he had tonight.

Within a few silent strides, she reached the tent and slipped noiselessly inside. Much could be said for running without the hindrance of skirts and the constant awareness of what one’s hem might touch.

Undead but alive. Her mind turned over the enigma such a combination must have created. And yet she trusted she would be safe with him. Not blind trust like that which comes of love but the near tangible trust that only comes from second sight. Unless the path turned, she saw security and adventure like none she’d ever known through her own eyes or others.

Drina grasped her wrist. Neena gasped, startled from her thoughts. Her sister glared at her and yanked her into and to a darkened corner of the large tent.

"Hurry, Neena," Drina whispered, panic clear in the tremble of her hand. "Where have you been? No, don’t tell me. I’m better off not knowing." Her glare was gone and in its place, stark concern marred her flawless features. "We have little time. If you are not dressed just so, Ramon will surely see through our ruse."

"Shh." Neena gently took back her wrist and patted her sister’s hand. "We have time, Drina. And I will hurry." To prove her words honest, Neena yanked the tunic over her head and pulled at the wrap concealing her breasts. She resisted claiming she’d tricked him once already tonight, that another would be simpler. She didn’t wish to tempt the fates though or force Drina to ask how.

Drina shook her head and met her gaze. No anger shone in the large dark orbs though. Only fear. And hope. Neena felt a pang run through her heart. They may not see each other again.

Yes, they each promised to never let such a thing happen. They swore to make contact after a reasonably safe period passed. But, Neena could not be sure either would be able to fulfill the vow. Drina was her closest sibling and only friend. She was the one person who loved her without expectation, who always encouraged her, who stuck by her in the face of their brother’s rage and belittling.

Neena held each breath in a moment to quell the tremble of emotion that threatened to pour out with every exhale. She donned the filmy plum colored skirts and matching blouse. Drina’s gold followed in belly chains, rings, bracelets and earbobs. The last touch was her headpiece that with the poor lighting of the night and an appropriately down turned face would disguise the fact that she was not her sister.

She was not the prettiest, the prize to be given to the fight’s winner, but the plainer though similar framed, sister. After being presented to Taos, the difficult part would come. She would present each piece of gold to him in a formalized dance before an exclusive group of men which included her brother and Drina’s true betrothed, Anton.

Drina handed her the last bracelet and began to paint Neena’s face as she would her own. They had practiced the process more than once in the weeks since forming the at first ludicrous seeming idea of switching places. She applied kohl to her lids and powders and shadows to create the look Ramon would be accustomed to seeing.

"Remember, keep your back to him," Drina said low, referring to Neena’s very thought. "He will not see it is you if you do not look at him. He will not care if you ignore him. He will want you to."

"Yes, yes, I know. I remember." But she knew it was her sister’s way of protecting her one last time.

"And if you are discovered, he will not shame himself in front of them. He will take you aside."

Neena blinked rather than nodding as Drina’s hold on her chin as she finished the powder did not warrant movement.

"If he takes you aside, tell him I have found myself suddenly in my woman’s state. He will be unable to confirm you as a liar and will be harsh but grateful."

"He will not guess. I’ll take care, Drina. I promise."

Drina lowered her hands and met Neena’s stare, her eyes imploring. "I know you will. I… I simply am so hopeful that we will succeed. So much so that if scares me. If only I had your sight, then I might feel better. But a life with Jon Paul feels like magic to be asking for."

Neena hugged her sister to her. "I know." Drina’s shoulders shook once then relaxed. "I cannot thank you enough for what you do for me this night. This gift is so generous, so enormous, Neena."

"Shh. I know you would do the same for me. And remember, this is my path. Grandmere spoke it so. Trust in it as I do. You will see. All will be well." Neena squeezed her again, then let go, refusing to recall that it may be her last embrace with her beloved sister.

"Go now," Drina said. "He will be waiting. If you delay…." She didn’t finish and didn’t need to.

Neena understood. Kissing her sister’s cheeks and hands, Neena let go then made her way past the sleeping women. As she stepped from the enclosure, she stole once glance back. Drina held her face in her hands, her shoulders shook with her sobs.

A strong ache formed in her chest as she silently wished her sister well and let the tent’s flap fall shut. Ramon’s tent stood on the opposite side of the grove, near the caravan and majority of other tents. He would be waiting for her.

Her hands didn’t tremble but her insides did. She was crossing a threshold in her mind. Exiting her present and past and entering her future. She mentally replayed how events should transpire.

Taos would be uncomfortable with the ritual bestowment dance. Ramon and Anton would find fault in her dance. Taos’ companion would be the key. He would unwittingly help her change the dance into destiny by exposing her ruse.

Drina knew none of this. Neena made certain her sister only believed this the only way to stop the marriage contract and bands being united. Once Neena joined Taos, convinced him of his fate, found the bloodstone and returned, Drina’s marriage would be subverted. It may not be Neena’s true cause, but she would help her sister. She vowed to.