by Bree Moore
Damaged.
Harper raked her fingers through her hair, wanting to tear it out. She shouldn’t think of him that way. He would be wholly human. Nothing less. Nothing more. And the world would lose something incredible. Something beautiful. She clenched her fists against the tightness in her chest, but it was futile. Tears flowed down her cheeks, hot and fast. She watched the car until it pulled onto the road and disappeared, flashing silver amongst the trees in the last bit of sunlight.
Chapter Sixteen
Tyson
The insistent beeping woke Tyson with a start. It wasn’t the alarm tone he was used to, and that confused him until he picked up the singing device and swiped up. A calendar reminder glowed on the screen.
Fletcher Reformation
Tyson bolted from the bed, sheets tangling around his legs and sending him hopping around on one leg. The ulu knife thumped to the floor, landing beneath the bed. He managed to get free from the sheets and grab the knife, wrapping it back in the velvety black cloth. It was probably the skin of some animal from Alaska. Seal, maybe? Tyson placed it on his dresser, noticing the bandages on his finger. A cut like he received yesterday should have felt sore, but he didn’t feel anything. Was the cut worse than he thought? Had he severed a nerve, or something?
Tyson headed to the bathroom and peeled back the bandages, holding his breath. A thin, white line marked his skin where the cut had been, covered in dried blood. It looked like a scar, but that was impossible.
He rinsed the finger under water, carefully wiping away the dried blood. He kept expecting the wound to reopen, but the skin was sealed tight by that scar. Trembling, he dried his hands and brushed his teeth, trying not to think about what had healed him: magic.
Instead, his thoughts went back to Fletcher. Fletcher left last night for the operation, making today a critical day. Everyone close to him would need to meet with Tyson, whether they wanted to or not. Evaluating their state of mind was an essential part of the success of the program.
He froze mid-pant leg. He was back to evaluating them, like nothing that happened yesterday made any impact. Could he go back and act as if he wasn’t helping Harper, as if the records of Reya’s unjustified death meant nothing?
Tyson slid his other leg into his pants and zipped them up. If he didn’t show up and do his job, he’d be letting down more than a few people, especially Tom, who was due back from his conference. His own quandary could wait for one day.
The cell phone rang, and a quick glance showed Tom’s name on the screen, as if summoned by Tyson’s thoughts. He picked it up on the third ring, swiping to answer.
“Good morning, Tom. How was your trip?”
“I’m back, that’s all that matters. Why aren’t you here?” Tom’s rough, low voice crackled through the line, thanks to the patchy service at Camp Silver Lake.
“I got stuck there over the weekend and they let me come home and get a couple days off to make up.”
“Well, I hope you’re headed in today.”
“Of course. I’m getting ready now.” Tyson grabbed his keys and wallet and shoved them into his pockets, then checked for his lanyard. All he had left was to get his clothes from the dryer and pack them, since he’d be at camp the rest of the week.
Tom snorted. “I’ve arranged for Violet to bring you in via portal. Don’t want you to miss his arrival.”
Tyson groaned inwardly and checked the time. 6:15 a.m. “He’s not back yet?”
“On his way. Surgery took longer than expected, but he’s made it through. Bring your A-game, this is a big deal.”
“I know, Tom.” Tyson’s heart clenched. He thought of the frost-tipped kid that Fletcher used to be. He was still frost-tipped, but much less a kid now. And he was coming back from the biggest surgery of his life today.
“Five minutes.” Tom’s end of the line fell silent. Tom had always been that way. Not one for goodbyes. The fact that he was back brought some relief. Tyson wouldn’t have to check up on everyone by himself.
Fletcher would spend the next few days at Camp Silver Lake, say goodbye to the other residents, and they could make sure everything was alright. Then his family would pick him up. Tyson grinned at that. Fletcher had looked forward to going home to his family ever since he arrived at Camp Silver Lake.
Most of all, Tyson felt relief that Fletcher had pushed through, and that Harper’s arrival didn’t throw him. Everything he’d worked to accomplish with this internship and this program would pay off with Fletcher’s successful Naturalization. Regardless of the past, things were different now.
Clothes packed, Tyson rushed back upstairs and opened his fridge. Nothing that could be prepared quickly except cereal, and he’d had that for dinner. Fortunately, he could eat at the camp. Breakfast hadn’t started there yet.
Tyson ran back into his room to grab the charging cord. He took it out of the wall and as he turned, his eyes landed on the ulu knife on the dresser. Some feeling urged him to take it, and he did, carrying it to the living room and zipping the package into his backpack along with the phone cord.
A silvery blue portal bloomed in Tyson’s living room, obscuring the window Quinn broke through. He slung his backpack over one shoulder, took a calming breath, and stepped through.
His feet crunched on gravel outside the cabin. Gravel? They had brought him outside. Why?
Violet and James stood together beside Lilith on the front drive of the cabin. Beyond them, on the porch, Tom watched with his hands in his pockets.
The first drops of rain fell from the overcast sky. Tyson’s throat clenched at the sight of them. He managed a smile. “This is quite the welcoming party.”
“Where is she?” Violet demanded, stepping toward him with clenched fists.
Tyson feigned bewilderment. “Who?” After all, they could be talking about anyone.
Lilith held up her hands, as if approaching a wild animal rather than a reasonable human being. “Tyson, we know Becca was at your apartment. The Supernatural Task Force contacted us this morning after they left your place. If there’s anything you know…”
She played her part well. Just another concerned camp leader. Tyson wiped his clammy hands on his jeans. “I don’t know where she is. Or Quinn. They didn’t leave a forwarding address.”
“Do you think she’ll try to contact you again?” James asked, holding Violet’s arms, whether for comfort or restraint, Tyson couldn’t be sure. He held a relaxed stance, his glasses glinting in the early morning light. But he was far from relaxed. Tyson could see the tension in his brow, and he shifted his weight subtly from one leg to the other.
“She…might.” It wasn’t an outright lie, but witches were perceptive, and Tom’s instincts were uncanny. His blue eyes pierced Tyson from the porch. Tyson met his eyes deliberately to avoid garnering his suspicion. Becca said she would call, but Tyson didn’t know when or where or how. Pretty sure she would have ditched her cell phone after their last encounter with law enforcement.
Lilith glanced at Violet and James, then back to Tyson. “Until we hear word of their capture, we’ll have to keep you sequestered, Mr. Miller. For the safety of the residents.”
“What?” Tyson exploded. “That could be anywhere from days to months! Today Fletcher comes back from his Reformation, and it’s critical I’m available for the residents to process anything they might be feeling.” If they didn’t want Tyson there, why have him come back to the camp today? Tyson narrowed his eyes. They didn’t just want him away from the residents, they wanted him within their grasp. He couldn’t run if they held him here. Not that he would have run, he told himself.
“We have Tom, as you see. He’s very capable,” James said.
Tyson took a step forward. “I’ve been working with some of the residents exclusively. They won’t respond to Tom as well. He’ll back me up on that. I just want to help.”
“You mean Harper,” Violet said. Not a question, but a statement. “She won’t be your problem muc
h longer. A special forces team is gathering as we speak to take her to their high security facility.”
Tyson’s mouth gaped open. “You’re sending her away? You’ve given up on Harper, but not that banshee in your basement?”
Violet stiffened. “As leader of this camp I determine who is compatible. It is my home, Miller. It has been since you were in diapers. You don’t tell me what to do with it.”
As an intern, maybe not. When Tyson got that promotion, however… A gleam in Violet’s gaze made Tyson freeze. If they suspected him this much, and if Violet and James had decided to send Harper away based on the information he gave them, then that meant…
“You gave your word. Two signatures,” Tyson growled.
Violet didn’t even flinch. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Her voice slid through Tyson like ice.
“It’s for the best, Tyson.” Tom held out a hand, like he was approaching a wild animal rather than a harmless human.
Tyson heard a car in the distance. Could it be Fletcher?
“You guys know me.” Tyson kept his voice level and calm, though he felt anything but. “I’ve been here two years. I’m not going to do anything stupid.”
“No, you aren’t,” Tom said. His words had a discomfiting finality to them.
“They’re threatening to lock down the camps because of what happened with Fletcher,” James added. “No one in or out, and Supernatural Task Forces would patrol the borders and manage anyone who tried anything suspicious. If an escape attempt was made, all of our protocols and procedures would be put under a magnifying glass, scrutinized, criticized, and changed. The residents could lose every freedom they currently have, and then some.”
The warlock’s words hung in the air.
Behind Tyson, car tires rolled up on the gravel drive. They all faced the black Mazda. A man dressed in grey scrubs got out of the passenger side and opened the back door. Fletcher’s blond head appeared, hair uncharacteristically mussed. He eased himself out of the car, every movement causing his face to crease in pain. His bandages were hidden beneath a green t-shirt.
Tyson dropped his backpack in the gravel and surged forward. No one stopped him as he met the orderly helping Fletcher and offered his arm. Fletcher smiled in appreciation. Tyson took on his full weight, the bandages rubbing beneath his arm. Tyson adjusted his hold, careful to stay away from Fletcher’s wounds.
“Thanks,” Fletcher said to the orderly, who climbed back in the passenger side without a word. Tyson couldn’t make out the driver’s face. Gravel sprayed from beneath the car tires as Fletcher and Tyson walked toward the lodge steps. No one said anything, but they did fall in line behind them.
Tyson took the first step slow, but Fletcher grunted and halted.
“You okay?” Tyson’s shoulders tensed, preparing to take on more of his weight if he collapsed.
“Yeah.” He managed a smile, of all things. Tom’s face creased with concern, and he watched the two of them carefully. Tyson avoided Tom’s gaze. Whose side was he on? Did Tom think Tyson should be locked up simply for his association with Becca?
They got up to the front door, which Tom opened, and wound their way past the staircase and toward the kitchen. Ahead, someone made a hushing sound. There was a tense feeling in the air that Tyson didn’t understand until they rounded the corner.
A cheer erupted. Every person in the room stood, clapping and whooping. As far as Tyson could tell, most of the residents of the camp were there. Not all of them were cheering, and more than a few were crying, but all of them looked at Fletcher with love and admiration.
Fletcher ducked his head, pushing off from me and straightening. His smile was more of a grimace of pain, but he put on a brave face for everyone else.
Someone brought him a chair and he sat down. Tyson stepped back and people surrounded Fletcher, congratulating and encouraging him.
Tom stood next to Tyson at the fringe of the room. “The high will get him through the pain, but be prepared for two days from now. That’s when it will hit him, when he’s alone and vulnerable.”
“So we make sure he’s not alone.”
“Easier said than done, son. Are you going to watch him twenty four-seven?” Tom crossed his arms over his chest. “We have to ease him into it, get him to talk about all of his feelings, before his family picks him up. Otherwise, well, that’s when we lose them eighty percent of the time.”
“We won’t lose him. Fletcher is solid. He wanted this.”
Tom snorted. “He thought he wanted this. You can’t predict how they’ll take it once it’s happened.”
Fair enough. Tyson hated that it had to be said, but Tom knew his stuff. He literally wrote the book on Paranormal Psychology and a whole slew of academic papers on the effects of traumatic events like this. It was what made Tyson want this internship in the first place. He wanted to learn from the best.
“Does this mean you’ll let me keep an eye on him?”
Tom took his time answering. “Yes. But you’ll be watched closely. Don’t do anything funny.”
Tyson stuck his hands in his pockets, noting the individuals that hung back as Fletcher was fawned over. He knew many of them didn’t agree with the action Fletcher had taken, but it said something about their character that they showed up to support him this morning. Tyson’s eyes landed on Harper, hovering at the back near Ian and Kamri, practically a shadow on the wall. Her gaze lifted to meet Tyson’s, and he could see that she’d been crying.
Someone had to warn her that Aberration Management was coming to collect her. Violet had been vague about when. Would they be here today or tomorrow? Should he try to contact Becca and Quinn and tell them they had to come now?
Tyson wove through the crowd around Fletcher, toward Harper. He was afraid she’d run, that she wouldn’t let him talk to her, but she didn’t move. He was only a few people away when his phone rang.
He didn’t dare check the screen. The Petrovs should have insisted on taking his phone, but no doubt there was too much going on since Fletcher had arrived for them to think of it. A lucky break. If he checked it now, he risked them noticing and correcting their error.
Tyson glanced around the room. Violet’s and James’ backs were to him as they retreated down the hall toward the stairs. Lilith stood next to Tom with a pleased smile plastered on her flawless face.
He let the phone go to voicemail as he reached Harper.
“Hey,” Tyson said, a bit breathless from forcing his way through the throng. It was only about twenty people, but they were packed around Fletcher like sardines. Harper bit her lip, rubbing her own arms with her hands, hunching over like a humpback. She wasn’t okay, so Tyson didn’t ask the obvious.
“Would you like to talk about anything?”
She shook her head no.
Tyson had the urge to hug her, but decided against it. Earning as much trust as he had, if he had any, had been hard enough. He could lose it all the moment he touched her without asking first, and asking if she needed a hug seemed…awkward. Not to mention the new level of scrutiny he was under.
Tyson’s pocket buzzed again. Harper heard it and frowned at him. If it was Becca, he couldn’t answer it in here, and he couldn’t tell Harper who it was either, not without knowing no one could overhear.
The phone rang a fourth time. Tyson leaned over. “I know you don’t want to talk about this,” he gestured toward Fletcher’s group of admirers, which was starting to thin. “But maybe there’s something else you’d like to discuss? In the office?” He raised his eyebrows. Inside, he groaned. “Meet me in the office in five minutes.”
Tyson was terrible at being subtle. She raised her eyebrows back at him, clearly unimpressed with his attempt. Tyson didn’t wait for her to reply, but put his hands in his pockets and headed to the office, nodding at Tom and Lilith as he passed them.
The clock was ticking past six minutes later when Harper knocked on the door. Tyson rushed t
o open it, nearly having a heart attack when, for a split second, he realized it might not be her, but there she was, twisting a lock of hair around one of her fingers.
Tyson ushered her inside and shut the door. “Have a seat.”
Harper crossed her arms. “You don’t actually expect me to sit and have a heart-to-heart with you.”
“No. I have a call to make that you might be interested in.” He picked up his phone and dialed back the number that had called four times in the past ten minutes, praying it wasn’t a telemarketer or something equally useless. Harper would really think he was an idiot then.
“Tyson. Thank God. Why didn’t you pick up the first time?” Becca’s irritated voice came through the line. The reception in the office wasn’t great, so Tyson plugged his ear and moved toward the window. Harper unfurled her wings, knocking a pencil holder off the desk. She ignored the pointed look Tyson gave her, preening through her feathers with her fingers.
“Hey. You’re lucky they haven’t confiscated my phone and put me under lock and key. They were waiting for me when I got here. They heard about yesterday morning.”
“Oh, God. I’m sorry, Tyson. They suspect you?” She said something muffled, and Tyson assumed she was talking to Quinn.
“Yeah. I mean, we’re cousins. You show up at my place and evade capture, and they know I didn’t report it, so yes, they suspect me. Fortunately, they need me today.”
Harper glared at that, her feathers fluffing up in an irritated way. His turn to ignore her.
“Well, we got bigger fish to fry. We haven’t quite shaken the Stiffs that found us at your place. We need to get out of the state. We’re headed your way. Can you have Harper ready to leave?”
“Uh…”
It was the perfect storm. With Fletcher’s… accident, security would be tighter than usual, everyone on edge. But once Aberration Management arrived, Harper wouldn’t stand a chance of escape, and that could happen any time in the next 48 hours.
Tyson swallowed, glancing at Harper out of the corner of his eye. She did the same thing at that moment, and their eyes met. They both looked away quickly.