“Can you think of no other way?” a soft voice called from the other end of the kitchen.
We all stopped and looked back to find Madame Knightly standing there.
“Your highness, I didn’t hear you come in,” Tristan said.
“Oh, slipping around on all fours this morning,” she said then poured herself a cup of tea. “I get around faster like that. Now,” she said, joining us at the table, “what do your cards say, Vella? What is the path?”
Vella shook her head. “There is war here, but that is not all.”
“What else do you see?” Tristan asked.
“The Hermit.”
“And what does that mean?” I asked her.
“We must withdraw.”
Tristan sighed heavily.
Madame Knightly smiled. “Patience, Tristan. Peryn’s ward will not cease her quest, and we must let her try.”
“Peryn’s ward? You mean Layla?” I asked.
“Yes,” the old woman said with a soft smile as she sipped her tea. “Ah, now that’s nice.”
“You think there is a chance for the cure?” I asked, looking from Madame Knightly to Tristan. “‘Cause I don’t know about you, but the undead I’ve seen creeping around don’t look like they’d survive even with a cure, not now.”
“As Layla said, they aren’t all the same,” Vella added. “If she can hear them, then they are not gone. There is a chance.”
“Perhaps, perhaps not,” Madame Knightly said. “But if there is one thing that is certain about mankind, you always fight to survive, until your dying breath. And, perhaps, beyond. We shall see.”
I frowned at the woman. I had just about had my fill of all this mystical crap. If the doc had found a cure, and we’d just left it behind, then we had to go get it. Every single one of us could still turn into one of those things.
“When are you going back to Claddagh-Basel?” Vella asked.
“Tomorrow at sunrise.”
Vella pulled a card and set it on the table.
I looked at the card. It was “The Fool” in the upside down position.
She shook her head. “It won’t come easy.”
Tristan nodded. “Nothing ever does.”
“I’m going with you,” I told him.
“See what I mean,” Tristan said, grinning at me. “Not this time, my lovely tilt girl.”
“What, you gonna try to make me stay home?” I asked him with a grin.
“No, but I will,” Vella said.
“Man alive, you two are so irritating,” I said with a groan.
Madame Knightly laughed. “Come on, Cricket. I’ll make you a cup of tea,” she said then smiled. “It always calms my nerves.”
“Better put a shot of bourbon in it.”
Madame Knightly held her teacup to my nose.
The scent of alcohol wafted from the dainty porcelain cup.
“Why do you think it’s so effective? Some problems call for more than chamomile.”
At that, we all laughed.
CHAPTER 16: LAYLA
THE OLD TRUCK ROLLED DOWN the quiet streets of Brighton, stopping once more at Moonshine Pete’s where Chase and I filled a dozen syringes with the blood, such as it was, of the undead.
Amelia sat in the back of the truck staring off in the distance. She hadn’t said a word since we’d left her house. I didn’t blame her. Her mother’s voice had come across so loudly, so clearly. It was the same with Elizabeth, with the man in Ulster, with Jamie, and with my Grandma. Grandma had told me to kill her, to shoot her. And I had done as I was told. But now I questioned myself. If I had heard her, did that mean she was like these others? Not decaying zombies, but something else, still carrying a flicker of life inside. I sighed.
“That’s odd,” Zoey said.
“What?” Chase asked.
“There,” she said, pointing. “You see? The courthouse. Top floor. You see that flicker of light?”
In an upper window of a large brick building at the center of town there was a shimmer of light. It was there for just a moment then it was gone.
“Maybe something sitting in the window?” Chase said.
Zoey shook her head. “I don’t know. It’s gone now.”
After we’d filled the syringes, we left again. With Logan guiding Darius, the truck turned down some bumpy back roads then finally onto the old dirt road that led to Witch Wood.
“How did you end up out here?” I asked Amelia, wanting to draw her attention away from her dark thoughts.
“Oh,” she said, wiping a tear from her cheek. “I’ve worked as Madame Knightly’s caretaker for the last few years. What about you? Where were you before all this mess started?”
“I was in D.C. I worked for the Smithsonian. I was a museum curator, taught fencing classes for middle and high school students.”
“Sounds like a great life,” Amelia said.
“It was,” I replied. But was it? At the time I had thought so. Saturday morning scones at the café, teaching fencing three nights a week, hours in the dusty stacks at the museum. It had felt so great. But I was also terribly lonely. I’d worked hard just so I could ignore it. But it was always there. It wasn’t until I’d returned to Hamletville that the feeling of loneliness had finally gone away.
“What about you? Where are you from?” Zoey asked Chase.
“Me and Darius lived in a little nowhere place in West Virginia. We’re cousins. Darius was studying to be a teacher. I was studying because my mama told me I had to,” he said, laughing. “I wanted to own a garage, be a mechanic. I’m pretty good with cars, actually. Anyway, we got flushed out of town, traveled with the Army when everything first fell apart,” he said then shook his head. “Things went bad. We were on the run for a while. Took shelter in a run-down shopping complex for a bit. That’s where we met Ariel. Then we ran into Cricket and Vella. Got cleared out of that place too. It was people that time. Bad people.”
“How did you end up at Claddagh-Basel?” Zoey asked.
“Tristan took us there. We spent the winter there. We had some skirmishes with the undead but it was quiet, and we survived.”
“We lost a lot of people at the college,” I told them. “Good people.” The image of Summer and Ethel falling to the undead flashed through my mind, paining my heart.
Amelia took my hand. The minute she did so, I felt the heaviness that had settled over me lighten. “I’m sorry. Your fiancé, and the others, I’m so sorry.”
“Thank you,” I said, squeezing her hand. I closed my eyes and tried to block out the tears. When I did, the image of Ian standing over me, holding my shashka, crossed my mind. “Too much death,” I whispered.
“Yes,” Amelia said.
“Then let’s start focusing on living,” Chase said, patting me on the shoulder. “They’re gonna need you frosty tomorrow, Wonder Woman.”
“Wonder Woman? That’s a new one,” I said with a smile. I squeezed Amelia’s hand then let go. “I could use an invisible jet.”
“How about an invisible house,” Darius called from the front as he pulled the truck into Witch Wood’s driveway.
Amelia climbed out of the back and walked over to the front gate. She stared at the place where the fence line should have been.
Logan joined her. They spoke in low tones then Logan stepped back.
I looked around at the others. Everyone was watching Amelia except Zoey, who was peering down the road in the direction we’d just come.
“Something wrong?” I asked.
She shook her head. “No, not really. I don’t know. I thought I saw something. Animal, maybe. Don’t know.”
“Animal?” I asked, immediately feeling alarmed. “Did you see something?”
“No, I mean, I was just guessing. I didn’t see anything specifically.”
“Well, if you ever see a fox, it usually means we’re screwed,” I said then stared down the road with her.
“Why?”
“The bad fae, the kitsune, that’s the fo
rm they shift into.”
“Great,” Zoey said. “I don’t know. It was just the wind I guess.”
A moment later, I felt a chill fall over me. My skin rose to goosebumps.
“Well, look at that,” Chase said then, causing both Zoey and me to turn around.
When we did, we found ourselves standing outside the gate at Witch Wood, the bright daylight shining down. And the road and forest around us? Nothing but mist.
I looked at Chase.
He shook his head.
Amelia looked back at Logan and smiled. She turned and opened the gate. Darius drove the truck through, and Amelia closed the gate behind us.
Amelia slid into the front seat with Logan and Darius, and we drove to the front door of the house. Tristan, Cricket, and Will came outside to meet us. In the distance, I saw Susan and Kira chasing bubbles across the lawn. They were wearing angel wings and rings of spring flowers on their heads. Madame Knightly stood beside Frenchie, laughing as she watched the girls.
“How did it go? Everyone okay?” Tristan asked, looking us all over.
“All good, captain,” Logan replied with a wink.
“And we’re stocked up now,” Chase said, showing Tristan the haul of weapons that we’d brought.
“And I have the syringes,” I said, patting the bag where I’d stashed them in.
Tristan nodded. “Then let’s get some rest. Tomorrow at dawn, we’ll head back through the maze.”
“Thank you, Tristan,” I said.
Tristan put his arm around my shoulders as we headed back toward the house. “If it were Cricket, there wouldn’t be a thing in this world that could stop me either. And if we can work out Doctor Gustav’s cure, it’s worth a try. Layla, I never had the chance to tell you how sorry I am. I knew Doctor Gustav was obsessed, and I sensed her drive could prove dangerous, but I never thought she’d go so low.”
“She tried to give it to Kellimore too.”
“You’re certain she is dead? There’s no chance she survived the onslaught?”
“No. She’s gone. We saw it. She was keeping an undead woman locked up in the college, experimenting on her. The lab got overrun, and the woman killed her.” I didn’t want to go into any further details, because the truth was, I had killed her. In my anger and frustration over what she’d done to Elizabeth and the baby, I had set Elizabeth free and stepped aside while she destroyed Doctor Gustav, and had felt righteous in doing so.
And I had paid dearly for it.
“Then I guess we are on our own,” Tristan said.
Because of me…
CHAPTER 17: LAYLA
THE NIGHT PASSED QUIETLY. Tom, Will, and Frenchie stayed close to one another. They seemed relieved. For the first time since we left Hamletville, it felt safe at Witch Wood. We were, after all, being watched over by three fae guardians in a house surrounded by magic. We could live here quietly, without risking anything. In time, the vampires would die out and the undead would rot to the ground. But they weren’t the only problems. The kitsune wanted us gone. Though I was leading the charge, I knew that going back to Claddagh-Basel was a mistake. We would expose ourselves. I knew it, but there was nothing that could have stopped me. I needed to know what happened to Jamie.
At dinner that night, I picked at my meal of rice, snap peas, and canned peaches.
“Not hungry?” Kellimore asked as he took a seat beside me, his blue eyes searching my face.
I turned to answer him when I realized he looked different. “Your hair!”
He laughed and ran his hand over his freshly shaved head. “Elle helped.”
I looked at her. Elle was grinning at Kellimore. I noticed she’d re-shaved the undercut on her own hair.
“Used a straight razor,” she said with a wicked grin. “I told Kellimore he was brave, considering what a dick he’s been in the past.”
Madame Knightly, who was sitting at the end of the table, cleared her throat, passing Elle a look.
“Sorry,” Elle said sheepishly.
“Yeah,” Kellimore assented. “You’re right, but that’s all in the past. I had some growing up to do. Thanks for the shave. Now I’m aerodynamic,” he said, sliding his hand across his head.
“I like it,” I told him.
“I hear that if you rub a bald man’s head three times and make a wish, it will come true,” Elle told me. “Kellimore wouldn’t let me try.”
I had to laugh. I set my hand on his head. “Smooth,” I said with a grin.
Kellimore chuckled.
I smiled to myself then looked up to find Amelia looking from Kellimore to me. A soft expression crossed her face. She turned back to her meal.
“So, sword sharp for tomorrow?” Kellimore asked me.
“Yeah, I’m good to go,” I said with a nod, shifting uncomfortably. Amelia’s glance made me feel awkward. I turned back to my food. “You ready?”
“Loaded like we’re headed to the Wild West.”
“We might be.”
“You think so?” Beatrice asked then. “That it might be bad?”
“Nah, they’re just kidding, I’m sure,” Elle answered for us. “Either way, I convinced Tristan to let me come too. I mean, I know the place. It will make it easier.”
I nodded, glad to hear the news. Elle was no slouch, and if we got pinned, she was handy to have around.
“We’ll be careful,” I told Beatrice who looked very unsure.
I cast a glance at Madame Knightly who had just given Tristan a knowing—and warning—look.
I slid out of my chair.
“Thank you, Madame Knightly,” I told her.
She nodded kindly and the others wished me well. In my room, I pulled off my boots and pants and crawled into the magnificent four-poster bed which was covered with a lovely crocheted coverlet. The gauzy curtains on the windows glowed in the moonlight.
I closed my eyes and tried to think about Jamie.
“I’m coming,” I whispered. “I’m coming for you.”
But as I drifted off to sleep, Kellimore’s smiling face came to mind. Too tired to thwart it, I fell asleep thinking about his lovely topaz-colored eyes.
CHAPTER 18: LAYLA
I WOKE UP EARLY THE NEXT MORNING. To my surprise, I found a pile of neatly folded clothing sitting on the table just inside the door. Crossing the room, I lifted the bundle to investigate. There were heavy, tan-colored pants, a clean white T-shirt, and a long-sleeved flannel shirt. Hidden underneath, someone had left me clean underwear and socks. In that moment, such items felt like a godsend.
I looked down at the shirt I was wearing. I hadn’t realized it, but the collar was stained with old blood, the hem ripped where I had cut the fabric to clean my sword and in a vain attempt to help Buddie. I was a mess. I stripped off my old clothes down to my undershirt and panties then grabbed the bundle. I paused to look outside. It was still early. The sunrise cast shades of pastel pink and gold across the horizon. Outside, I saw Chase and Kellimore returning from the shed, both of them carrying shotguns.
Their voices rose to my window. Chase was giving Kellimore a hard time about something. Kellimore laughed. How old was he? Maybe twenty by now. Five or so years younger than me.
I smiled at them.
Kellimore must have noticed movement in the window because he looked up, catching sight of me. He moved to wave but then quickly looked away, fighting back the smile creeping across his face.
I gasped and stepped back. Well, at least I wasn’t completely naked. Caught gawking at him in my underwear though. I felt stupid. And just why was I doing that anyway? I shook my head.
“Okay, Layla. Focus.”
There was a washbasin on the dresser and fresh water in a pitcher beside it. I stared at myself in the mirror. Dirt was smeared across my cheek, and my hair was a disaster. Sighing, I lifted a cloth and washed my face and body. The small bar of soap smelled like roses. The scent took me back to the night of my senior prom.
I was sitting in front of the mirror in m
y room at the cabin on Fox Hollow Road when my grandmother came in.
“My Layla, Ian just pulled up. How beautiful you are,” she said as she smoothed my long, dark hair, gazing at me in the mirror. “Why do you look so sad?”
I sighed. “Ian and I had an argument last night. We’re always fighting. I just want tonight to go well.”
My grandmother sighed then sat down on the bed. “Your mother always had to have a man. From the time she was a little girl, she wanted to get married. So, she chased every man she saw. She chased, and chased, and chased something none of them could ever give her.”
“What?”
“Love for herself. Your mother never learned to love who she was. I tried very hard to teach her, but she didn’t listen to me or the spirits or anything else. She always looked for a man to love her. Layla, you don’t need to have a man to be enough. But if you want a man, then find a good man. If he sees your value, he will prove himself worthy. Then you will know he’s a good man. But make him prove himself first.”
“Like Grandpa Sasha did with you?”
My grandmother laughed. “Yes. But I also saw my own value. Sasha needed to work to get me because I was worth it. I was a beautiful Russian girl who could see the otherworld. Of course the man who wanted me should work for me. Don’t chase those who are not worthy of you.”
“There is good in Ian.”
“Perhaps, but he’s not ready to show it yet. Layla, if a man loves you, he will be there for you, be gentle, and come to you slowly, with care and respect. Wait for a man like that.”
“You’re describing the perfect guy…who doesn’t exist.”
“I’m only describing what you deserve. Because you, my Layla, are special,” she said then kissed me on the forehead.
I sighed then closed my eyes. There had been good in Ian, I was right, but he waited until the last moment to let it show. After Ian, after I moved away from Hamletville, I had tried to live by my grandmother’s words. I knew she was right. But still, I saw that I had some of my mother in me. There were many times I had to rein myself in before I went chasing the wrong kind of guy. My relationship with Jamie, however, had simply snapped together. That was why I couldn’t give up on him now.
The Torn World: The Harvesting Series Book 5 Page 6