by Casey Lane
* * *
“I don’t know. I caught the scent earlier tonight too, but I couldn’t chase it down. Whatever it was, it was on the move. It knew I was tracking it. I think it was baiting me.”
“Should we keep Rhys home tomorrow night? Is it dangerous to have him out there?”
“You can’t protect him forever, any more than I can protect Neoma. Our lives are dangerous.”
She gazed up at him, and he ran a finger down the slope of her nose. “Should we see if we can run it down tonight?” she asked.
Wren shook his head. “No, whatever it is, it’s playing with us. It wants us to chase it. Let’s see what information Hadley and Oggie can give us. It’s content to stay out there, and I’m content to stay right here.”
Isa couldn’t hide her surprise. “That’s not the song you were singing a few hours ago,” she reminded him.
“That was my wolf; this is me. When I go after this thing, I won’t stop until it’s dead but that’s not going to be tonight.”
Isa believed him.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Rhys
Day 4
Rhys was hiding. He’d never admit it, not to anybody, but he was. He sat on the side porch, the one hidden from the rest of the world. It was just a small wooden ledge with a step down to the yard, but he sat tucked into the corner of the house, flipping the pocket knife Isa’d gotten him for his birthday.
He didn’t want to go running with Wren and Isa. They didn’t want him to go anyway. They were just being polite. It was like being forced to tag along on a date. He would just get in the way of their staring at each other and making out. His stomach sloshed at the idea of his sister and Wren—who was practically a stranger—sitting in the kitchen. It had only been four days, and Wren and Neoma were already more family to her than Rhys was. Every day it felt more like he was the one who didn’t belong.
He could hear them all enjoying their breakfast, laughing and joking around. He didn’t get how they could just pretend some evil creature wasn’t lurking just out of sight. Why was he the only one who could see the danger? Why didn’t anybody else seem more concerned?
Rhys heard Kai’s heartbeat before he saw him; Kai’s pulse was always loud and bounding, like the blood beat harder in his veins than in anybody else. Rhys closed his eyes, resting his head against the side of the house, his skin already starting to itch as his wolf tried to force him to acknowledge Kai’s presence.
Rhys ignored both his wolf and Kai, knowing he’d pay the price for it later. He listened to Kai’s shoes scuff along the wooden planks of the porch, felt the heat of his body as he sat down, almost close enough to touch. Rhys’s skin was crawling with the need to move closer. Kai smelled upset.
“What’s wrong?” Rhys asked before he could stop himself.
The younger boy didn’t answer right away, but the scent of his distress had Rhys feeling lightheaded. He reached for Kai without thought, his hand circling his wrist, stroking his thumb along his pulse, something deep inside him thrilling as it danced under his fingers.
“I had a weird dream the other night…the night of the storm.”
Rhys frowned at that, a chill running along his spine. The night Neoma had come to his room to tell him about the dragon and the hollow people. He didn’t open his eyes or look at Kai but asked, “What was your dream?”
“I-” Kai stopped.
Rhys heard Kai’s head thud dully against the wall, the strange scent of anxiety and fear mixing with something else, the strange, subtle scent that was just Kai, the smell that drove Rhys’s wolf crazy. “What?” Rhys prompted, voice sounding more exasperated than he felt.
“I don’t think you’ll believe me,” Kai admitted.
Rhys rolled his closed eyes, even though he secretly understood why Kai might think that. “Don’t be stupid. What was your dream?”
Kai’s pulse beat harder under Rhys’s thumb. “That’s the thing. I don’t know that it was a dream. I-I think it was a memory. But not my memory.”
Rhys frowned harder, looking at Kai for the first time. His dark hair was long enough to brush his collar, and it flopped in front of his eyes, partially blocking the guarded look Kai gave him. He was waiting for Rhys to say something mean or awful. Instead, Rhys asked, “Whose memory was it?”
“I think it was Neoma’s. Can that happen? Can you remember somebody else’s memory?”
Rhys thought about it, fingers itching to push Kai’s hair out of his face, to pet his hands over his skin until Kai smelled less like fear and more like happiness. “Neoma is an elemental, right? That makes her part fae, like you. Maybe something in your blood makes you able to…connect?”
Kai’s gaze darted to his and then flitted away. “Do you think? I mean, maybe? She and Tristin both had nightmares last night. I guess that could happen. I just…she was really scared, Rhys. I think somebody was going to hurt her.”
Rhys swallowed hard. Neoma was so small, almost dainty. She was the same age as Tristin, Kai, and Quinn, but she seemed younger somehow, more fragile. The idea of somebody hurting her had his already agitated wolf pacing inside him.
Was it the same creature she saw watching them from the woods? Was it the dragon from her dreams? “Hurt her how?”
“I don’t know. She had cuts on her legs, almost like claw marks. They were taking her somewhere in a truck, and she definitely didn’t want to go with them.”
Rhys’s brows furrowed, leaning closer without thinking. “Did you see them hurt her?”
Kai shook his head. “They took her to a place in the middle of a corn field…”
“And?” Rhys prompted, practically choking on the stink of Kai’s fear. Rhys grimaced as his canine teeth ruptured his gums without permission, and the bones in his face shifted beneath his skin. He let go of Kai’s wrist as his claws extended. He didn’t want to hurt him.
Kai snatched Rhys’s hand back threading their fingers together without looking at him, gripping him tight. “There were these stones…big white stones in a circle. There was blood, Rhys. So much blood and there was a woman and these people.”
Rhys’s heartbeat went wild. Big, white stones? Blood. Like in the woods. Like in their woods in Belle Haven. Neoma hadn’t mentioned the stones. Rhys rumbled deep in his chest, dread pumping through his veins like a shock wave of electricity. “A woman?” he asked, tongue tripping over his teeth, lips numb.
“Sort of…she was tall and skinny, like Mrs. McCarthy when she got sick.” Rhys flinched. Mrs. McCarthy had been the elementary school librarian, and she hadn’t gotten sick; she’d gotten hexed and nobody—not even the witches’ council—had been able to break it. In the end, they could count every bone in her body as it protruded from her near translucent skin. She’d looked like a walking corpse. She’d looked…hollow. Rhys could never bring himself to tell the others how she’d died. He could understand why Kai looked terrified.
Kai didn’t seem to notice Rhys’s reaction, staring straight ahead, his voice a frantic whisper, like he needed to say it so he could cleanse the image from his mind. “She had thick frizzy black hair, and she wore a black dress like a nightgown…but her skin was white and thin as paper. I could see her veins, could trace them through her whole body. Somebody had painted symbols on her arms in blood. She…she had this mask that covered her eyes and nose…at least I think it was a mask.”
Kai wiped tears from his cheeks with his free hand, and Rhys growled low. Kai shuddered, leaning closer, not away. No matter what Rhys did, Kai never seemed afraid of his wolf. Rhys let himself move closer too, as Kai said, “The mask looked like a skull but it only covered the top half of her face, and it had these sharp black antlers that looked nothing like any animal I’d ever seen before.” He looked at Rhys with wide eyes. “I know it doesn’t sound that scary. I know it sounds fake, but it couldn’t have been fake because Neoma was so scared. And there were others there, all in black, but the lady was the one in charge. She was the one who wanted Neoma. The on
e who scared Neoma so bad she-”
Rhys gripped his hand tighter mindful of his claws. “She what?”
“She wet her pants, Rhys,” Kai whispered. “How scared does somebody have to be for that to happen?”
Rhys’s stomach rolled. “What did they do to her?” Rhys asked, positive he didn’t want to know.
“I don’t know. The storm woke me up. I didn’t remember it at first. I just woke up scared. I almost went to Isa, but I heard somebody in the hallway, so I just stayed in my room and crawled into bed with Quinn.” Rhys’s nostrils flared, but he pushed the feelings down. “It wasn’t until I got to school that I remembered everything.” Kai glanced at Rhys. “But then it happened again last night. And I think it happened to Tristin too. You saw her in the hallway. She was terrified.”
“You don’t know that,” Rhys said, but even he didn’t believe his words. It wasn’t hard to believe that Tristin might be having the same visions or dreams as her brother…but Neoma?
Kai shifted. “I don’t know what to do. Do we tell Isa? Does Wren know? Wren wouldn’t let somebody hurt Neoma, right? She isn’t afraid of him.” Rhys didn’t say anything. He didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t tell Kai about his conversation with Neoma without her permission, but he was sure he couldn’t figure out what was happening all on his own.
He’d also never told Isa about the stones he’d found in the woods. He’d meant to, but after the first day, it seemed unimportant. But the circle of stones couldn’t be a coincidence even if Wren and Neoma had only gotten to Belle Haven the day he found them. How could whoever hurt Neoma have beaten them there? Was it a memory or a premonition? What if somebody was going to hurt her?
“What do we do?” Kai asked, pulling him from his thoughts.
Rhys didn’t hesitate. He needed to tell Kai what he knew, to show him what he’d found. “Nothing right now. I need to show you something. Meet me at Old Mill Road at nine-thirty.”
Kai’s brows knitted together. “What? Don’t you have to go running with Wren and Isa?”
Rhys huffed out a breath, shoving down the bitterness clawing its way up his throat. “Yeah, but they don’t want me there. They’re only doing it because they feel obligated.” He clenched his jaw at the thought. “Just meet me at nine-thirty.”
Kai squirmed, looking frustrated. “How am I supposed to get away from Gen and Hadley? Gen’s a shifter too, remember?”
“I don’t know, figure it out,” Rhys snapped.
Kai pulled back from him a little, narrowing his eyes at Rhys. “This isn’t some trick, is it? You believe me, don’t you?”
Rhys rolled his eyes. “Yes, I believe you, stupid. Why else would I ask you to meet me tonight?”
“To kill me and bury my body in the woods,” Kai muttered.
Rhys gave him a blank stare. “If I were going to do that, I would have done it a long time ago. You have trust issues. Just meet me at nine-thirty. Don’t be late.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Neoma
“Neoma, do you know why I’m here?”
Neoma squinted at Hadley from her spot in one of the two fancy chairs in the living room, trying to protect herself from the light streaming through the window in front of her. The sun was already bright and blinding, and it wasn’t even noon. Of course, she knew why she was there. She was the one who’d told Wren they needed to find the witch. “You’re going to fix what Ezri did.”
Hadley smiled, nodding. “That’s right.”
Neoma smiled back, but it was just for show. The adults were acting strangely. They were fidgety and smiled too much. They’d dragged the fancy chairs right up to the sofa where Wren and Isa sat. Hadley sat in the other chair, to the right of Neoma, all so close their knees bumped together. The witch kept her body angled so she could easily read their lips.
Neoma didn’t like the way Wren and Isa watched her. There was fear in Isa’s eyes, and Wren was looking at her like she’d done something wrong. It made her stomach feel squishy.
Hadley clutched Neoma’s hands. “Do you understand that Ezri hid some terrible things from you? Terrible things that happened to you?”
Neoma’s smile slipped, but she nodded again. “Ezri wanted to help me. She didn’t want me to be sad. She didn’t want me to hurt anymore.”
Hadley squeezed her hands. “That’s right. I don’t want you to hurt anymore either, so I’m going to try to take some of your pain away as we recover your memories. Would that be okay?”
Neoma shrugged. “I guess so.”
There was the sound of the back door opening and closing, and then Kai and Rhys were walking past the living room. Both glanced up as they passed, frowning at Neoma and the adults.
Neoma smiled, but Isa’s mouth flattened. “I told you guys to play outside or upstairs.”
Rhys looked to Kai, confused. The reaper blushed, hands flailing as he looked at Isa. “Sorry, I forgot.”
Isa gave a tight-lipped smile. “That’s okay, but you need to go upstairs and stay until we-”
“I want Rhys to stay,” Neoma interrupted, voice hitching.
Heat crept up her neck as all eyes turned to her. She didn’t take it back though. She needed Rhys to stay. She needed somebody who understood, who knew what it was like to be terrified of something living inside you without your permission, something always lurking beneath the surface. She needed Rhys, and she wasn’t going to back down.
“Neoma, honey, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Isa said, hesitantly.
The sun seemed to disappear, casting the front yard in shadow outside the window. Neoma squared her shoulders, her magic surfacing until it coursed over her like water droplets rolling along her skin. “Why? He’s pack, isn’t he?” Neoma questioned. “I trust Rhys, and I want him to stay.”
“Can I go?” Kai asked, clearly uncomfortable with the tension in the room. Isa nodded, and Kai pounded up the front stairs, leaving Rhys behind.
Rhys crossed his arms as if he could shield himself against the weight of his alpha’s scrutiny or the pain of her distrust. “Neoma trusts me. Why can’t you?”
Isa seemed stunned by the question. “That’s-It’s not that we don’t trust you, Rhys,” Isa said, before gesturing helplessly.
Neoma didn’t want to listen to them argue. Without Rhys, she wasn’t sure she could do what they asked. He was the only one who knew the truth. “He stays, or I’m not doing it.”
“Neoma, what has gotten into you?” Wren asked, sounding exasperated.
She took a deep breath and let it out. “It’s my brain and my memories. Why can’t I show them to who I want? I’ll just tell him later.”
Wren rubbed his palms over his face, suddenly looking much older to Neoma. “Fine. Come in, Rhys.”
Neoma felt better—calmer—the moment Rhys sat on the floor next to her chair, curling a hand around her ankle.
Hadley spoke slowly like she was trying to make sure everybody understood the gravity of the spell. “For all of us to see what Neoma sees, you have to be touching her or me. Once the connection is formed, you cannot let go until we’ve finished.” Hadley looked to Isa and Wren then, gaze going soft. “I have no control over what memories I recover first. I’m more concerned about getting her to remember each memory one at a time and then trying to repair any emotional damage that might come from it. Okay?”
Wren and Isa both bobbed their heads in agreement, looking more concerned with each passing moment. “Should we get started?” Hadley asked Neoma.
Neoma shivered. “Okay.”
The witch took a deep breath and let it out. “I want you to relax and open your mind to me.”
Neoma didn’t know what that meant, exactly, but she took a deep breath and let it out just as Hadley had. The witch’s grip tightened, and suddenly pictures were flashing before Neoma’s eyes too fast for her to process, like a movie on fast-forward. The corn field. The woman. A knife. Blood. Fire. Cain. Everything was moving too quickly. It was too much. It made he
r chest hurt, and her ears ring. She couldn’t do this. She tried to let go of Hadley’s hand, but the witch only held tighter.
Then it just stopped, and Neoma was standing in a room. The room had lemon yellow walls and a blush colored comforter with tiny yellow tea roses. Ezri’s bedroom. Ezri and Neoma sat in the center of the large comfy bed with its white wicker headboard. A sudden crushing pain started behind Neoma’s ribs as it all came flooding back. Tears sprang to her eyes. Ezri.
It was so real and yet, Neoma knew it wasn’t, it couldn’t be. She was no longer watching the Neoma sitting with Ezri; she suddenly was that Neoma. She could smell Ezri’s coconut lime body lotion, she could feel the comforter beneath her bare legs, and the bristled brush Ezri dragged through her hair. She could remember the terror that felt like lead in her belly each time she glanced at Ezri’s bedroom door.
“Don’t worry, Dylan can’t get you in here, remember? I warded the doors and windows. He’s stuck out there.”
Dylan. She was hiding from Dylan. Cain and Alis had left for their pack meeting, and that meant Dylan would come for her and take her to the bad woman…he’d take her to the blood drinkers.
“You’ll be safe until dad and Alis get home.”
Neoma nodded, but she couldn’t’ stop her gaze from skirting to the door again. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Ezri’s magic, she just knew she was never safe where he was concerned. “Tell me a story,” she heard herself say.
“What kind of story do you want to hear today? Do you want to hear about Valhalla again? Odin? Thor?”
Neoma swallowed the lump in her throat. “No. I want you to tell me where the bad people go.”
Ezri stopped brushing her hair for a moment. “What do you mean? Like the warriors who didn’t die in battle? The ones who died a bad death?”