Unpredictable (Waifwater Chronicles Book 2)

by Laken Cane

  They fell silent immediately and stood at the bottom of the porch steps between her and the coming strangers. There hadn’t been a lot of traffic in One Hex Hollow in the last few weeks; Abby had stopped taking customers who needed spells and lotions and potions. She’d been too busy learning how to grow her power, fight, and defend. She’d been too busy getting to know her alpha.

  Maybe someday, when her life had settled down, she’d start helping people again.

  The car came into view and she narrowed her eyes when she saw it was Wade Hansen’s police car. “What on earth?” she muttered.

  Wade stopped the car, climbed out, then jogged around to the passenger side to help someone out, and it took Abby a moment to recognize her.

  “Remy,” Abby said, leaving the porch and hurrying toward her company. “What happened to you?” She was glad to see the council had released the wolf, but Remy wasn’t in good shape. Still, if they’d released Remy, maybe…

  “The council happened to me,” Remy muttered, leaning on the sheriff.

  “Come inside. Wade, help her. Quickly.”

  Remy would surely have punched him had he picked her up, so he just took her arm. Abby put her arm around Remy’s waist and the three of them walked slowly into Abby’s house.

  “I’ll be fine,” Remy said, once they were inside. She waved them both away. “I just have to get my shift.”

  “What’d they do to you?” Abby clenched her fists as she watched the wolf walk gingerly to the dining table and sit down with a moan of pain.

  “They whipped me,” Remy said, anger overriding the pain. At least for a moment. “They whipped me like a naughty child who’d forgotten her place. Bastards.” She rested her palms on her legs and leaned forward slightly, coughing.

  Abby dropped to her knees before the wolf. “I’ll make you a potion that will help heal you.”

  “It’ll help me recover my shift?”

  “Of course,” Abby answered. “I brought back the alpha’s shift when he was nearly gone. I can certainly help you.” She paused, fear squeezing her heart when Remy dropped her gaze.

  And she could not for the life of her ask the question she most wanted to ask.

  Wade put his hand on her shoulder. “Abby, we’re not here to get Remy healed.”

  “Well,” Remy said, dryly, “I wouldn’t mind a zap or a potion, if it’s all the same to you, Sheriff.”

  Abby closed her eyes, then patted Remy’s hands and rose to her feet. She bustled into the kitchen, grabbed a mug and some various powders from the cupboard, then filled the tea kettle. “I’m going to help you. I’ll only be a moment. Have a seat, Wade. Would you like coffee? I’m so glad they released you, Remy. Would either of you—”

  “Abby,” Wade said. “Sit down.”

  Abby set the kettle on the stove to heat, then stared down at it. “I don’t want to.”

  But Wade took her arm and led her to a chair at the table. “Sit,” he said, but his voice was gentle.

  She stared up at him, barely aware that her eyes were overflowing with tears. “I can’t bear it,” she whispered. “I can’t bear it if he’s dead.”

  Wade pulled a chair up beside hers and took her hands. “Tell her, Remy,” he said, his voice rough.

  “Eli wouldn’t break,” Remy began. “He wouldn’t agree to stop seeing you. He wouldn’t agree to step down as alpha. The council forbade him from leading the pack—even as rogues.” She took a deep breath, then began again, her voice as full of tears as were Abby’s eyes. “So they stripped him of his title and declared him rogue. They banished him. They exiled our alpha. All packs would be bound to treat him as an enemy, to ignore him, to refuse him help in any circumstances. Any wolf who refused to turn on him—even his own pack—would be punished. It’s a horrible, horrible life for a wolf, Abby.”

  Abby pulled her hand from Wade’s and pressed it over her heart. “Banished,” she breathed. “But alive. No, Remy, it’s not a horrible life! He’s alive. Don’t you see? I’ll protect him! He won’t need—”

  “I’m not finished,” Remy interrupted. “Eli refused their terms. He refused to slink off in shame and allow them to dictate his life. He attacked them, Abby. Eli, one wolf, attacked the council. You saw him with Noah. Imagine him with people he hates.” She turned her head slowly to look at Abby, her face a mask of despair. “You don’t attack the council.”

  Abby realized she was shaking her head in denial and stopped. “Where is he?” she whispered.

  Remy leaned forward suddenly and began sobbing, and that scared Abby more than she’d ever been scared in her life. Not even Acadia had that power.

  “Remy, where the fuck is he?” Remy had said he wasn’t dead, so everything would be okay. She just had to bring him home. Surely they’d injured him badly, but Abby could fix him.

  She got to her feet and rushed around the table, then grabbed Remy’s shaking shoulders. “Tell me where he is! I’ll go get him.”

  “You can’t go get him,” Remy said finally, wiping her eyes. “No one can.”

  The tea kettle began to scream, and without taking her stare from Remy, Abby said calmly, “Wade, pour the hot water into the mug I set out. Bring it to me.”

  And she waited.

  Remy looked up at her, and there was little of the strong, smartass wolf left in her eyes. She’d lost Eli, her alpha, and she was devastated.

  “They had him beaten,” she murmured. “I had to watch. They forced me to watch. And I couldn’t do anything.”

  Wade set the mug on the table but neither Abby nor Remy glanced at it. “Go on,” Abby encouraged.

  Remy blew out a long, tired breath. A breath of defeat. “The council was divided. He was given a death sentence, but the vote was in favor of letting him live.” She shook her head, slowly. “But not here. They took us to the edge of Waifwater Woods, and they threw him in. He’s in the woods. He’s gone, Abby. Forever.”

  Abby stumbled back, shock and horror roaring through her, unable, for a moment, to breathe or think or function.

  Waifwater Woods.

  Eli was stuck in Waifwater Woods, the place from which no one could return.

  Her alpha was gone.

  Forever.

  And forever was a really, really long time.

  Chapter Six

  Sometime later, after Remy had drunk her brew and admitted weakly that she felt her strength returning, Abby sat staring into space, her mind churning.

  “Who’s minding the pack, Remy?” she asked, finally.

  “Minding the pack,” Remy said dully, snorting. “The council assigned a wolf to keep them in the village until this is over. Some of them are jostling for power, fighting amongst themselves. Trying to dominate their way to the top. I can’t…” She swallowed, then continued. “Now that I’m back and healed, I will attempt to restore order.”

  “Alone?”

  “No. There are others in the pack who have the strength to help me. The pack just needs to be led.”

  “You’ll be challenged constantly,” Abby understood.

  “Yeah.”

  Wade had left—Remy would shift and return home when she was ready, and she no longer needed him. He’d had no solutions to offer, no ideas on how to retrieve Eli from Waifwater Woods.

  And that was because there were none.

  “Abby, you’re a witch. You’re powerful. You can think of a way to bring him home.”

  Still dazed, Abby turned her head slowly to meet the wolf’s hopeful gaze. “Those woods are like death. No one knows what’s waiting when you die, and no one knows what inside those woods.”

  Remy only nodded. Finally, in the silence, she stood. “I’ll go home now. The pack is worried. And waiting to hear if you offered any hope. They need to know…” Her voice broke but she cleared her throat and continued. “They need to know our alpha will not be returning.”

  “Don’t give up on him.” Abby climbed laboriously to her feet and faced the other woman. “Don’t give up.” />
  Hope flared in Remy’s eyes. “You have a plan?”

  “No. Not yet.” Abby walked Remy to the door. Despite the seeming hopelessness of the situation, there had to be a way. There had to be. And she wouldn’t stop until she’d figured it out.

  She grabbed Camilla and the hounds followed as she flew out of One Hex Hollow. She needed to visit the woods. To stare into them. To think.

  How could she go into those woods to save her alpha when she’d be as trapped as he was? How could she leave the pocket unprotected? Leave her mother and sister there to perish and die without her care?

  She couldn’t.

  She gave a quick sob, her heart sore, her mind weary. Far below, Sadie howled, as though she were picking up Abby’s emotions.

  Likely, she was.

  When she arrived at the woods, both dogs sat on the ground, panting, waiting for her to land.

  “My loves,” she said, dismounting, “you run like the wind.”

  Camilla hung in the air, gently swaying. If by chance some stranger happened by and tried to touch her, she’d drift into the air, just out of reach. If he persisted, he would likely find himself nursing a broken skull for a few weeks.

  Abby walked along the ditch line, her stare probing the dark shadows of the woods. It didn’t matter what time of the day it was or how bright the sun—those woods were always dark. No one could see past the first line of trees. If a skeptical person climbed the fence and wandered past those trees, he or she would find a whole different world on the other side.

  Or so Abby believed.

  She stopped walking and stood at the fence, her thoughts as dark as the woods into which she peered.

  “Eli,” she called.

  No one answered.

  She would get Eli out of Waifwater Woods. She had to.

  But how?

  “That’s the question,” she murmured. “How?” She tossed a glance at the hounds. “I need to go in after the alpha and I need to do the impossible and get us back out. How can I do that? Sadie? Elmer? Anyone?”

  “I can’t help you find your way back out,” a man said. “But I can help you find your alpha once you’re in there. For a price, of course.”

  She gasped and spun at the voice, snatching her wand from her pocket. She pointed it at the eavesdropper, then cast a hurried, concerned glance at the hounds, who appeared to neither see nor hear the man. “Who are you? What are you?”

  He smiled, then as she stood gaping, he wavered and disappeared.

  The dogs looked at her doubtfully—other than that they remained unconcerned. “There was a man,” she told them, breathless. “There!”

  Suddenly, he reappeared—right in front of her. “Hello,” he said.

  She yelped and jumped away, sending a lightning rod of power at his head—power he avoided by once again disappearing.

  “What are you?” she yelled.

  His laughter floated from the shadows. It was joyful laughter. “You really can see me. You can hear me. I’ve been waiting for someone like you for a very long time.”

  And at that moment, she understood exactly what he was.

  Her eavesdropper was a ghost.

  “Not a ghost,” he said, when she uttered the word. “I’m just a cursed man who has been deprived of his body.”

  “The technical word for that is…ghost,” she said.

  “I’m not dead.” He folded his arms. “So I’m not a ghost.”

  She suddenly realized what he’d said. “Alpha,” she said. “You said you can help me find the alpha.” She tried to grab his arm but of course there was nothing to grab. “What do you know about Eli Dean?”

  “I hear a lot of things. I know the wolf was taken because of you.” He frowned. “But I didn’t know you were a demon witch.”

  “I’m not a demon witch. I’m just a witch witch.”

  “Witch witches can’t see me,” he said, pursing his lips. “Only demon witches can. Although I suppose nothing is impossible.”

  “So?” she said. “How can you help me?”

  “I’ll help you if help me.” He seemed to grow slowly translucent, and finally stood there shimmering and twinkling like a man-shaped collection of stars. It was, she assumed, his way of threatening to leave should she hesitate.

  Sadie and Elmer watched her quizzically. Elmer yawned, finally, then rested his chin on his paws. Sadie kept watch, likely hoping for some excitement.

  She tapped her wand against her leg. “What kind of help?”

  “The kind that gets me into those woods so I can retrieve my body.”

  She squinted at him. “Stop fading like that. I can’t see you.”

  “It’s exhausting to maintain,” he snapped. “Try to manage.”

  “How am I supposed to get you into those woods? Why can’t you just…” She waved her hand. “Float in like a proper ghost?”

  His sigh fanned her hair. “I was cursed—you’ll understand that, if your face is any indication.” Before she could say anything, he hurried on. “My body was taken from me and thrown into Waifwater Woods. The only way I can go in after it is to ride along with someone else.”

  She recoiled. “Possess someone and then force them into those woods? Don’t you know you can never come out once you’ve gone in?”

  “Do you think I care? I’d rather wander Waifwater Woods for eternity than spend one more day as a…a spirit out here.”

  She put her hands on her hips. “And what about the person who takes you in?”

  “Choose an asshole,” he said.

  “An asshole.” She curled her lip, despite the fact that she was beginning to feel quite sorry for the poor soul.

  He gestured. “Yeah, a murderer or child abuser or such.”

  “I’m pretty sure murderers and child abusers rate a worse label than asshole.”

  “I don’t care what label they get. Just find one. You do that, and I’ll take you to your alpha.”

  “Why don’t you find your own…carrier?”

  “For one reason, no one can see me. Or hear me. Once you find my host, you’ll need to find someone else, as well.”

  She was intrigued, though she wouldn’t have admitted it to him. “Who?”

  “A demon witch. Only a demon witch can orchestrate the possession.”

  “How about the extraction? How will you leave the host once you’ve found your body?”

  “It’s nearly impossible to get myself into the host,” he said, “but it’s easy to get back out.”

  She pulled Camilla to her but didn’t climb aboard. “That’s a tall order.”

  “You want your alpha. You’ll figure it out.”

  “I don’t need you. I’m not going to send an innocent into Waifwater Woods, Ghost. I’m sorry.”

  He faded a little more, then brightened, then faded again. It was dizzying.

  “Do you think you can just walk into the woods and Eli Dean will be standing there waiting for you? The woods are likely vast, my girl. It could take you years to find what I can find in hours.” He shrugged. “And in there?” He yanked his chin toward the woods. “He’ll be dead in days.”

  “What makes you think you can find him?”

  He hesitated.

  “Well?” she asked. “Why do you think—”

  “I am a shadow wolf,” he said, cutting her off. “I can track anyone.”

  She drew back. “Myths and legends. Shadow wolves don’t exist.”

  “Well, since I am one, I must respectfully disagree.” His form became clear once again. He laughed at the expression of disbelief on her face. “I swear to you that I can track your alpha once I’m inside Waifwater Woods. You just have to get me in there.”

  “I can’t. I can’t allow myself to be stuck in there. I have…” It was her turn to hesitate. “I have a family to take care of.”

  He remained silent, letting her think.

  Torn, she looked at the impenetrable woods, unable to pierce the gloom that waited past the first line of tre
es. “What is he doing in there?” she whispered. “Is he okay, do you think?”

  “Likely he’s in terrible pain, mortally injured, and crying for his mommy.”

  “You bitch,” she said, aghast.

  He peered at her. “Did you think he was lounging by the pool, drinking lemonade and working on his tan?”

  “I don’t like you.”

  His image wavered, and finally, he shrugged. “I’m attempting to care. I am not succeeding.”

  She clenched Camilla so tightly the broom buzzed in protest. “I’ll think about it,” she murmured. “If I can find a way…”

  He stared at her, a triumphant look in his eyes, as though he knew her decision had already been made. “My name is Trace Farrell. I’m very pleased to meet you, Abby Cameron, Witch of Waifwater.”

  Sadie and Elmer pressed against her legs, unsure, and she trailed her fingers over their warm heads. “I’ll think about it,” she said, again.

  “You have twenty-four hours.” He disappeared.

  Elmer whimpered and looked up at her with his big brown eyes, one of which was just a little smaller than the other.

  “It’s okay,” she promised. “The ghost is gone.”

  “Not a ghost.” Trace’s voice floated through the air then seemed to pop like a balloon.

  Abby leapt on Camilla and barely waited to attach before she sent the broom into the sky.

  She needed to visit the pocket.

  There was only one demon witch she knew of who might be able help her.

  Jewel.

  And also, Abby really needed her mother.

  Chapter Seven

  She took Camilla with her into the spell room, then leaned her against the wall beside the pocket door. “I’ll be back,” she murmured.

  When she turned the wand in the lock and pressed her palm against the indentation, Basilia’s voice seemed slow in coming.

  “Go ahead,” she whispered, finally.

  “It is I,” Abby said. “Abigail the Immortal, daughter of Basilia.” She paused, almost unable to speak past the despair.

  Basilia waited.

  “Mother,” Abby murmured. “Let me in. Something has happened. Something…” She swallowed her tears. “Something terrible.”