Tithes

by Claire Farrell

  “Or you’ll what?” Phoenix said coldly, an almost imperceptible chill emanating from him. He rose to his feet, and I sat next to Nick in case he tried to get involved. “If you think I’ll stand by while you threaten this child, then you’re sadly mistaken.”

  “He could have killed these kids.” Peter pointed at me accusingly. “You said he would be safe. Where the fuck were you when all of this happened?”

  I swallowed hard. “I… in my house. You don’t understand what—”

  He glanced at Phoenix, and his lips curled into a sneer. “I see exactly how it is. You leave my son in danger while you go—”

  “I’d think carefully about how you finish that sentence,” Phoenix said calmly. “I’ve heard enough insults from your mouth, Brannigan. I choose to ignore them no longer.”

  Peter stepped toward him. “Do you think I’m scared of you? You think I don’t know exactly what you are? I’m ready for you, fae. Anytime.”

  “That’s enough,” I said. “Stop acting like this in front of the kids. Both of you. Phoenix, take Nick home. He’s too upset to do anything but be around his family.” I avoided Phoenix’s gaze. “Maybe it was too soon.”

  I sensed him staring at me, but I couldn’t face him. I felt too guilty. Peter was right to be angry. I had screwed up and gotten distracted when I should have seen that Emmett had his father’s streak of violence and would torment the wolf child into flipping. It was in their nature, and now Dita had been hurt because of it. Because of me.

  “Fine,” Phoenix said at last. He plucked Nick into his arms and strode to his car, ignoring the rest of us.

  I stood and brushed the back of my jeans with my hands. “Dita, how are you feeling?”

  “I’m fine,” she said. “That was so stupid. Emmett’s just a bully.”

  “I’m not a bully!” he shouted, flinging the bloody tissue aside. He stormed off, pausing only to give me a disgusted look. “I thought you cared about me.”

  “I do,” I protested, but he was already leaving. I made to follow him, but Peter grabbed my arm.

  “Don’t you dare.” His voice deepened with anger and frustration. “You don’t get to comfort him when you caused this.”

  “I thought they would get along.” I pulled my arm out of his grip. “I thought they were doing fine.”

  “He’s a werewolf,” Peter said. “I should never have agreed to this ridiculous little playdate. That cub isn’t welcome here.”

  “I agree,” Anka said. “My daughter will suffer with a scar for the rest of her life because of your experiment, Ava. This isn’t what I expected from you.” She led a protesting Dita away then slammed her front door behind them.

  “Peter,” I said, trying to remain calm, “Emmett’s okay, but he needs to learn not to wind people up. Especially that kid. Hasn’t he been through enough?”

  “The cub?” he said, clearly exasperated. “What about what my son has been through?”

  “They were both trapped for a long time,” I said. “They have that in common! Maybe they could talk to each other, and—”

  “This is fucking unbelievable,” he said. “You actually want to try again? And you have the cheek to blame my son?”

  “I’m not blaming Emmett. I’m just saying that—”

  “Oh, go screw about with Phoenix and leave the rest of us out of it,” he spat, angrier than I had ever seen him. “You’re not the person I thought you were, and I don’t want you near my son.”

  As he walked away, my mouth dropped open. One stupid mistake had cost me big time.

  2

  The heat wave was over. More than just the weather had turned colder. I had tried to leave a gift for Dita, but Anka had refused to even let me see the child. I had left the bag on the doorstep, but I had a feeling Dita would never see it.

  There wasn’t even a chance of Peter reaching anything close to forgiveness yet. I had tried calling Phoenix, but he hadn’t answered or returned my calls. Relief had quickly followed that rejection; I had no idea what to say to him. I knew that he wasn’t happy about the way things had gone down, but he just didn’t understand that I had to keep the peace as best I could. If I hadn’t asked him to leave, he would likely have come to blows with Peter. And I didn’t know how I would react to that scenario.

  There was so much hate and distrust in our lives, even now. I tried so hard to bring people together—to make all of my worlds join seamlessly—but my efforts kept backfiring spectacularly. There had to be a way to stop the weird feud between the Brannigans and Phoenix—I just had no idea what that was.

  I half-heartedly finished the job Emmett and I had started on the CDs. My cheeks burned as I fixed the knocked-over pile in the hall. Whenever I put myself first, somebody else got hurt. The universe kept sending me the same message; maybe it was time I started heeding it.

  The sound of a football smacking a wall outside drew my attention. I opened the front door and peeked out. Emmett was playing alone in the cul-de-sac, looking miserable. He looked up and noticed me. I waved hopefully, but with a stubborn set to his mouth, Emmett turned his back on me, picked up the ball, and went back into his house. He might as well have kicked the ball right at my gut—that would have been less painful.

  Leaning against the doorway, I looked out at the cul-de-sac. Fourteen quaint cottages, and too many of the occupants had reason to be mad at me. My gaze fell on an empty cottage, and my mood dropped even further. Margie had left the cul-de-sac, abandoning her business with Anka, when my feud with the shifters bled out into her apothecary shop. After everything that had happened to us, that was what had made her move on and leave us. Anka had been working so hard to keep on top of things and had even hired Leah part-time, but the number of customers the shop drew had been rapidly dwindling lately, and I was starting to suspect the business that had put her back on her feet was about to fail.

  For weeks, an awful feeling in my chest had been telling me something terrible was coming my way. It squirmed again. I couldn’t explain it, but I didn’t want to be alone anymore.

  I headed over to Carl’s house and knocked on the door. I heard the television blaring and knocked impatiently a second time when he didn’t answer. When he finally came to the door, his blond hair was tousled as though he had just woken up. “What?” he said hoarsely.

  I brushed past him. “Where have you been? I haven’t seen you in days.”

  “Here,” he said, following me into his kitchen.

  “Why aren’t you at work?”

  He mumbled something as I stuck on the kettle. “What was that?”

  “I said, I got sacked.”

  I whirled around to face him. “What do you mean, you got sacked?”

  He rolled his eyes. “I mean, I lost my job, got let go, was—”

  “All right, I get it, Carl.” I laid my hands on my hips. “Why were you sacked?”

  He shrugged then sat at the kitchen table. “No clue. Something about a lack of funding or some shit.”

  “Are you serious?” I took cups out of the press and slammed them on the counter with a little more force than necessary. “That’s total bull.”

  “Yeah, well, maybe they decided they don’t like non-special humans working with special kids.”

  I fumed silently while the kettle boiled. “Maybe I could talk to—”

  “No,” he said firmly. “It’s done. It’s over. I’ll figure something else out.”

  “Breslin was talking about needing a bookkeeper,” I said.

  “I don’t need any more of your charity,” Carl snapped.

  “It’s not charity. It’s—”

  “Just make the bloody coffee, Ava.”

  I turned back to the counter. I needed to talk, but Carl didn’t seem particularly inclined to listen. I made the coffee then sat across from him and studied his face. He toyed with the cup, spinning it around in a circle. His eyes were red-rimmed, his lips chapped.

  “You’re not taking care of yourself.”

 
; He met my gaze. “Is that what you came over to tell me?”

  I squirmed in my seat. “No.”

  “Then why did you come here?”

  I fidgeted with my sleeve. “I suppose you heard what happened.”

  “Nope.”

  “Phoenix brought the werewolf cub over, and while we… weren’t looking, Nick and Emmett got into it. Dita ended up getting hurt.” I realised his face was suspiciously blank. “What’s up with you?”

  Anger flared in his eyes. “Are you serious?”

  “What?” I bit on my lower lip. “Is this about Esther?”

  The thunder in his expression immediately made me wish I hadn’t opened my big stupid mouth. Carl had gotten close enough to Esther to believe that something was about to happen between them—until she and I had gone on a trip to meet the new shifter alpha. Esther had fallen hard for Patrick in an instantaneous, this-is-my-mate sort of way, and she’d forgotten Carl. And when I saw how happy Patrick made Esther, I encouraged her to follow her heart, despite knowing it would hurt Carl. But she would never have settled with Carl—not after meeting Patrick. The change in Esther had been phenomenal. The shifters had broken her time and time again, but it had taken another shifter to help her start to heal. To avoid hurting Carl, she had been spending time with Patrick while he helped the once-captive female shifters adjust to their new lives. I suspected her obvious avoidance had hurt Carl more.

  Carl’s fingers curled into fists. “No, Ava. This is about the way you run around doing your own thing then only turning up on my doorstep when you need something.”

  I blinked rapidly. “What are you on about? When do I ever ask you for anything?”

  “Oh? Peter’s my friend, and I have to listen to you harp on about Phoenix this and Phoenix that until I want to puke.”

  I relaxed in the chair and let him vent. Maybe we would finally get to the heart of the matter.

  “And when was the last time you came over and asked how I felt? Huh? When you and Esther were up north, did you even once think about how I would feel? Did you ever—”

  I had stopped listening. That squirming in my chest had undone itself, spreading outward until it became a gentle but insistent tugging behind my navel. Something wanted me. Something…

  “Ava! Are you even listening to me?”

  I shivered. “Sorry. What were you saying?”

  “Is this a joke?” he blurted incredulously.

  “No, it’s nothing.”

  “See? This is what I’m talking about. You keep secrets, and you—”

  “Stop,” I said, a bead of sweat running down my temple. “Just… stop for a minute.” I waited, trying to figure out what was agitating me. “Did you hear something?”

  “I don’t hear anything.” He stared at me as though I had lost my mind.

  “Hold on.” I rose to my feet. “I have to… have to go… somewhere.”

  “Ava, are you all right?”

  The tugging grew sickeningly uncomfortable until I took a step toward the door. With relief, I kept walking. The sensation abated with every step I took. Carl followed in my wake to loudly berate me.

  “Shut up, Carl,” I said. “There’s something… weird.”

  Outside, a strange scent filled the air, and my mind grew confused. A fog surrounded us.

  “Is somebody there?” Carl called out.

  I turned left, intending to aim for the mouth of the cul-de-sac. The fog disappeared. I blinked, disoriented, then kept going, the peculiar tugging still leading my way.

  “Ava.” Carl gripped my arm. “Ava, you need to see this.”

  The urgency in his tone made me pay attention. I snapped out of my daze, and the tugging eased. Something in me felt disappointed, as though I had missed out on an important task. “What is this?”

  “There’s something in your garden.” He sounded odd, and I followed his gaze.

  There was a basket in my garden. My stomach dropped. “Is that…?”

  “Yeah, I think it is.” He urged me to my garden.

  A sweet scent filled the air, and we hurried past my gate and to the basket on the ground.

  “No freaking way,” Carl whispered.

  The pink blanket in the basket moved, and a tiny hand appeared.

  “Holy shit,” I said. “That’s a real-life baby in there.”

  * * *

  Carl and I stood over the basket we had quickly carried into my living room then glanced at each other.

  “Don’t look at me,” he said. “It was left on your doorstep.”

  I frowned at the baby. When I uncovered her blanket and saw her red chubby cheeks, something inside me shifted, almost as though she were a lost soul I was supposed to help—but not quite—and I had no idea what that even meant. Being a Matriarch was confusing business, even at the best of times. I felt certain this child had something to do with my one-hundred-year task, but how, I had no idea.

  “What do I do with her?”

  “Again I say—your doorstep.”

  I thumped his arm. “Shut up, idiot. Pick her up.”

  “I’m not picking her up. She’s tiny. I’ll break her.”

  I knelt beside the basket. The baby was asleep, and she really was tiny. There were no nappies or bottles anywhere in the basket, no notes, hints, or how-to manuals on what to do after finding a baby in the garden.

  “Why do all the weirdest things happen to me?” I mused aloud.

  “You must have been really bad in a past life. Who should we call first?”

  “Call?” I gazed at the baby. “Who would we call?”

  “I dunno. Shay? Someone on the Senate? We have to tell somebody that a baby was left here. You can’t just… keep it.” He paused. “Ava?”

  “Huh?” I shook myself out of the trance I had been in. The baby yawned, and I couldn’t help but smile. “What is it about baby things that makes people turn to mush?”

  “I can guarantee you that I’m not mush of any kind.”

  I waved a dismissive hand. “You’re different. We’re going to need supplies. Can you get some?”

  “Supplies? Like what?” His panicked tone inferred I’d asked him to leave the planet.

  The baby moved her head from side to side and moaned. Then her mouth opened, and a ridiculously loud wail came out of there.

  Carl flinched. “Do something.”

  I carefully lifted the child from the basket, but she kept screaming. “Maybe she’s hungry,” I said over the noise.

  “Then feed her!”

  I scowled at him. “Yeah, hold on while I crack out the spare formula I keep lying around. Cop on, would you?”

  “It’s hard to think when something’s screaming in your face like that!”

  I adjusted my hold. “Could she be hurt?” I manoeuvred the baby in my arms so that I could rub her back. Her screams died down to a whimper, and I smiled triumphantly. “Look at that. Magic. Now we just need to figure out how she ended up on my doorstep.”

  “Uh.” Carl pointed at the child. “I think I have an idea why. Look at the back of her neck.”

  My insides swirled as I checked the back of the baby’s neck. And there it was—a slave brand, stark against her skin.

  “No,” I whispered. “It can’t be.”

  “Fionnuala’s dead,” Carl said. “The slave market is done. But this tiny baby has a fresh mark. It looks so sore.”

  The skin around the tattooed mark was red and raised. Two diagonal black lines cut through an inverted triangle. The thought of somebody putting a baby through such unnecessary pain sickened me.

  “So she was marked into slavery,” I said. “But she ended up on my doorstep instead.”

  “Maybe somebody knew she would be safe here,” he said, frowning. “But why not speak to you?”

  “Maybe they were scared. Maybe they thought they were beyond saving.” A thought occurred to me: maybe the child would lead me to my next lost soul. “Maybe she’s the only one—some kind of ages-old deal somebody ma
de. They left her here to circumvent the deal.”

  He sat down. I joined him on the sofa, careful to keep the baby upright.

  He looked at me. “What if she’s not the only one?”

  That was the kind of thought that kept me up at night. “Then I’ll have to find the others.”

  “We have to tell the Senate about this.” A note of doubt marked Carl’s words.

  “Unless one of them is involved. It wouldn’t be the first time someone in power got involved with slavery.” I squeezed my eyes shut. “I really thought I helped people when I ended the slave market.”

  “You did.” Carl patted my shoulder, his previous anger toward me apparently forgotten. “You’re not responsible for another one popping up.”

  “Is this my life then?” I blew out a shaky breath. “Will I spend the rest of my life looking for slavers? Fixing things I thought I already fixed?”

  “I don’t know.” He took a closer look at the baby. “So what are you going to do?”

  “Keep this quiet,” I said after a moment. “You won’t say anything, right?”

  “If you don’t want me to.”

  I bounced her gently in my arms. I had no idea why. It just felt right. “Whoever left her here might come back for her. Maybe I can help them both.”

  “Yeah, maybe.” The baby snuffled, and Carl inched away. “I’ll go get supplies. I’ll ask for help. How hard can it be?”

  “Thanks.”

  He rose to his feet and headed to the door.

  “Carl?”

  He paused at the doorway but didn’t look around.

  “I’m sorry about Esther.”

  He kept walking.

  Left alone with the baby, who fell back to sleep in my arms, I had time to think. The fog could have been magic of some kind, something intended to hide the person who’d delivered the baby to my doorstep. If only they had spoken to me. Was I supposed to temporarily look after the baby or hunt down the person who’d branded her?

  The thought of another slave market made me sick. I needed to find out what the baby could do. Leah could help with that. I would have to be careful whom I spoke to, though. If the child had been branded because she was powerful, then she would be desirable to a lot of nasty people in the world—no matter what our newest laws declared.