by Tish Thawer
Marie couldn’t help but notice a few figures off in the shadows in what seemed to be a heated debate. Bishop. That was their name. She couldn’t remember their first names, but she thought they were brothers; or two of them were brothers and one was a father. Though they were a part of the Luna Coven, she couldn’t help but feel something dark in them, or in at least one of them. All three whipped their heads in her direction, as if they had been talking about her. Marie couldn’t fathom why they would be discussing her unless they were plotting her demise—or she could just be paranoid at this point.
Suddenly, the campsite was stuffy and confining, and Marie felt a panic rise in her chest. She needed to be by herself. She needed to get away from all that was the traveling caravan and people speculating about her when they didn’t even know her. Marie clutched her chest and turned back around toward the town. Evening was falling, and she really should have let Judson or Rachael know where she was going, but she had to get out right then.
She ran, not knowing or caring where she was going. Heading behind the businesses, she ran full out until her chest heaved and her breath was cut short. Back home, she used to run like that when she was frustrated, or even just for fun. She hadn’t been able to escape like that since home—the home she would never return to.
Her heart hurt a little at that thought. It had been her family home for as long as she had known, and even before then. But home was where you made it and where you let your heart grow. She would find her home and make it something new; she was determined to do so.
Once she caught her breath, she slowly walked a little bit farther toward a barn set apart from the town. The moon rising above it was striking, and Marie moved closer to see the view behind the barn. She hesitated just before reaching it. Was it a good idea to go behind a barn by herself as it was growing dark? No, probably not, but Marie touched the dagger Judson had given her, now strapped at her side, and it gave her a small sense of security. With that in her mind, she slid stealthily around the barn, listening the entire way. At one point, she almost giggled at how absurd she was being. Most likely, there was nothing around the corner but the back of the barn and maybe a wild animal, but she could handle that. However, she wasn’t expecting to find what she did.
Behind the barn, between the back wall and a large boulder, stood three figures. Two she couldn’t quite make out from her vantage, but one she could. Dillon. The young witch who had joined their caravan months back. Marie’s chest hitched. She didn’t want to leap to conclusions before she had any facts, but the situation did not present itself well for him.
Marie held her breath and flattened herself against the side of the barn as best she could. She couldn’t detect who the others were with him, but that didn’t mean they weren’t up to trouble. She listened, using her hunter hearing, which was much stronger than her human hearing; she had learned the ability to use each separately to save her sanity from sensitive hearing.
“Where is Dante? Is he here?” she heard Dillon ask in a whisper.
“No, he’s waiting at our hiding place. Didn’t want to be sensed too soon,” another voice, a female, responded to him.
“What’s the plan? What should I do?” Again Dillon.
“Do nothing. Keep your nose down. Well into the night in two days’ time will be when the witches are at their weakest, and Dante will make his move. The witches’ powers will be strained and so will their wards, due to it being the furthest night from both the new moon and the full moon.” The second voice, a male, was more commanding.
“Thanks to your information about the wagon train not leaving soon, he will be able to make his move before they can escape him again,” the female voice said.
“I get away with a clean start, right? That was the promise.” Dillon’s voice suddenly took on a tone of doubt. Marie didn’t blame him. She wouldn’t trust them.
“Don’t be there that night. Dante is there to wipe out the witches and take back his family, but anyone who gets in the way will be collateral damage. Do you understand?”
“Understood,” Dillon said, his voice weakened.
Marie hoped his decision weighed heavily upon him. She hated that he betrayed them after they had accepted him, the orphan of the group. Her cousin Caroline had taken a liking to him, and that he could betray her like that made Marie even more livid. She waited a few more beats, then turned to leave and sneak back until she was able to run without being heard.
She had to get back to tell the Luna Coven as well as her own people. Whether they trusted her or not, she would warn them, and they would believe her. They had to.
Chapter 12
“It could be a trap,” the oldest Bishop said in a tone laced with casual indifference, yet with an underlying disgust that Marie would waste their time.
Marie had called a meeting with Anne-Marie Beaumont and asked her to gather the others, and she brought her group’s leaders, consisting of Rachael, Judson, her father, Butch, and Alo. From the other caravan, Lawrence Mills, who Marie discovered was a frost dragon shifter, stood with his arms crossed and a tight look on his face as he grumbled something about just trying to get attention.
“It is a trap . . . for us!” Marie reiterated to him.
The Bishop—Rodavan she thought his name was—leaned down to her face. “It could be a trap set by you.”
Marie threw her hands on her hips, ready to battle anyone who not only called her a liar, but also insinuated that she would put her people, her family in danger. Judson stood behind her and placed his large hands on her shoulders, steadying her—making sure she didn’t throw a punch or two.
“It could,” Anne-Marie said, nodding slowly. She was regal—power exuded from her—and she was friendly, but not overly warm, yet there was something about her Marie trusted. “It could, but why would she endanger her own people with whom she has traveled for this long? What is her gain?”
The group was silent for a moment.
“I know I’m biased toward Marie,” Judson interjected. “But I also know her brother. He will stop at nothing to accomplish his goal, no matter how insane or absurd it may sound. There is no reasoning and no rationality at this point. I’m afraid his humanity is hanging on by a thread, if at all,” Judson said with sensitivity, having Dante’s family right next to him.
Butch and Alo went on to explain what they had seen on their travels to Independence, with the black-magic-using witches they had passed and the wreckage and devastation done by Dante.
The conversation went around for many more minutes, and finally Marie was finished. “Look, I know you don’t know me, and you don’t have any reason to trust me. But trust that I want the home you are looking for just as much as you do, and I will take my people and go out searching for it without you, if that’s what you want. If you can’t handle my presence—even though I’m the one fighting the feelings I get from your power every minute of every day—I understand. You should know the Stronghold coven has gifted us with spells that help control and subdue our hunter drives, but I still make the choice every day to rise above it. Even if we go our separate ways, promise me you will leave this place right away. I couldn’t handle having your deaths on my conscience too. There have been too many deaths already.”
Marie sighed. Everyone remained silent, contemplating her future or simply listening, so she continued.
“I want Judson and me to have a life, a family, one in which we can live peacefully with all different supernaturals. I want a home where generations of Blackstone witch hunters come after me, and I can leave the legacy of what it can mean to be a hunter without the actual hunting. So that’s me. And we will be leaving in the morning. I hope you all will join us. I have enjoyed getting to know you and would never forgive myself if anything happened to you.”
Marie stepped back and gripped Judson’s hand, turning them both to leave.
“Wait,” Anne-Marie called to her. Though her face was serious, a slight twitch of her mouth gave Marie the feelin
g she was impressed. “The Luna Coven and those joining us will discuss everything you have told us and come to our decision in the morning. Thank you for coming forward. I trust your people have the ability to deal with the traitor in your midst?”
Marie’s throat bobbed as she gulped, but she nodded nonetheless. They had ways of dealing with traitors; she had just hoped to never need them.
“It will be taken care of,” Butch announced, but the sadness in his eyes told Marie he had grown fond of the kid and was feeling the sting of betrayal heavier than most.
Marie and those with her left the meeting and went to pack up what they could in the dark. The rest would wait until morning. However, Dillon couldn’t wait. They didn’t want him to tip off Dante before they had the chance to leave.
Butch, Judson, Michael, Cetan, and a few others from the Stronghold coven went to restrain Dillon. Marie didn’t have the heart or the stomach to “deal” with him, so they agreed to tie him up and leave one of the tents. Rachael came up with a spell and had one of her witches place it upon him so he couldn’t yell for help. He would sit there and wait for Dante to show up, leaving him a message of their own.
Marie, Judson, and everyone available packed up their camp and gathered all their supplies as dawn quickly approached. All except the Stronghold Coven who had been in the other caravan. Rachael came to Judson and Marie with tears in her eyes.
“The coven has decided to overthrow me. Well, they gave me a choice. I could remain with them or not, but they decided to stay and settle in the nearby region. They are finished traveling.”
“Oh, Rachael. I’m so sorry,” Marie said, gathering her friend in her arms. “What will you do? I couldn’t bear to be without you, but I would understand your choice.”
“There is no choice. You are my only family left. I go with you. I’ve already discussed it with Anne-Marie, and she will allow the Stronghold members who choose to go with us to join their coven,” Rachael explained.
Marie held her friend out so she could see her eyes.
“Then it is settled. You will become an honorary Blackstone.” Rachael giggled, which Marie was aiming for. “Come, we have much to do still.”
Anne-Marie Beaumont and a couple Marie had recently met named Mihail Petran and his wife Irina—who Marie learned were a type of vampire called moroi—approached them.
“We will be leaving with you this morning. It is earlier than we had planned for, but the threat to all parties involved is more than we want to risk. We may need to stop for extended stays, depending how fierce the winter is as we head toward the mountains,” Anne-Marie informed them.
Irina Petran added in her thick Romanian accent, “Though others may have speculations regarding you, we are willing to give you and yours a chance. However, some in particular—” She paused and cleared her throat. “Some have asked this be on a trial basis. I’m sorry, but it was the best we could do.”
“So I just have to prove myself to secure the future we’re all dreaming of?” Marie asked. “I could be offended, but it could be worse. I’ll take it. I’ve proven myself most of my life that I could be who I wanted to be—and not who it was dictated to me to be.”
Anne-Marie and Irina breathed a sigh of relief.
“Did you expect me to throw a fit?” Marie asked with humor.
“Well, we’ve seen all types, dear. You never know.” Irina chuckled.
“Then let’s pack up and depart Independence, Missouri. We have a destiny to find,” Marie announced with joy.
Marie had developed a love for being on the dusty trail as they headed west toward the Rocky Mountains. There was a familiar lulling to the hypnotic rhythm of the wagons—that combined with the hope of a new day dawning gave Marie a feeling of positivity she hadn’t known for a while. Things were looking up for her and her family. They would get their new start, and they’d have new friends to accomplish that with. The weather had grown chillier as the fall progressed into winter in the year 1851, and the wagon leaders from both caravans decided to go a little south on the Santa Fe Trail in hopes of a slightly warmer climate, giving themselves more time before they went into the harsh Rocky Mountains. They couldn’t get past the feeling drawing them, pulling them, in the direction of the mountains. There was something there—they just weren’t sure what it was yet. This trip was about faith, instincts, and a little bit of magic.
Marie had discovered upon dropping in on one of the meetings discussing direction that the witches had a strange little device that looked like a compass, but was bigger and had clock parts that made a ticking sound. She watched in awe as one of the witches performed a spell similar to a scrying spell she had heard Rachael do, and the little device whirred and lit up, pointing in a direction only they could see. It was part of what guided them on their way, and she loved all of it.
This part of the trip was much slower-moving than before—the big oxen simply moved slower than the horses and mules, but a strong sturdiness was apparent in every step they took.
“Oh look at that, Judson,” Marie said and pointed out the vast grasslands of the prairie before them.
“It’s beautiful,” he agreed.
Days went by, and finally by late 1851, they found a rare place of shelter amidst the prairie made of a cluster of tall rock monuments made of chalk to circle the wagons and set up camp, just far enough off the Santa Fe Trail to be safe, but still close enough to get back on the trail when weather allowed. Marie was pleased to see the few Stronghold witches who remained mingling with those of the Luna Coven. Rachael seemed happy having other leaders around whom she could share ideas with. Since her mother’s passing, she hadn’t felt comfortable showing her weaknesses in front of her own coven, though Marie knew them to be an understanding group. After all, they had taken her into their midst and made her feel like family.
“Marie!” Rachael bounded over to where Marie sat on a clay-like boulder. She stretched out on top of a blanket, having experienced the red dust staining her clothing earlier. “What are you doing?”
“I was looking over my family journal again. I can’t help but feel like there’s more to it. I keep coming across passages mentioning the awakening of the two pieces and wielding the weapon. I thought at first it was referring to uniting my human part with my hunter part—but I don’t think it’s quite that simple.”
Rachael frowned.
“That sounds crazy doesn’t it? Maybe I’m just looking for something because I desperately want there to be more to it, more for me to hold on to.”
Rachael sat next to her friend and lightly ran her fingers over the leather book cover. “It hums a bit. I can feel an energy pulsing just under the cover. I think you’re right,” she confirmed with an excited smile.
“Do you know a spell that can unlock it?” Marie sat up straight with renewed anticipation.
Rachael twisted her lips in concentration. She then shook her head. “No, I can’t think of anything at the moment, but let me think on it.”
“Why can’t I feel it?”
“I think because it’s infused partially with witch magic. It’s not dark, so you wouldn’t feel it, right?”
“No, I guess not,” Marie conceded.
A scream rang out of nowhere. The thought that Dante and his group had found them shot fear straight through Marie. She and Rachael jumped up and took off toward the sound. People gathered, and some rushed in to get closer, but then the line stopped abruptly. No one moved past it.
“What’s going on?” Marie asked Caroline. The girl looked up at her with eyes reminding Marie of her sister LeAnna, and it struck a pain in Marie’s heart to know that she may never see LeAnna again.
“Rattlesnake,” Caroline said shakily, her eyes wide with fear. “Got one of the cows, I think.”
“Everyone clear out. We got a rattler. No one goes near it until it’s dealt with,” Butch announced in his rough, loud voice.
“I hate snakes,” Rachael said with a shudder.
Not a minu
te later, Ahote brushed up against her arm as he walked by and straight through the crowd to stand directly in front of the snake. Marie noted the chills that erupted on her friend’s arm, and she nudged her playfully with a wink.
“He’s being your hero,” Marie whispered excitedly.
“Shh, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Rachael replied, before her attention was drawn raptly toward the tall Ahusaka brother with straight black shoulder-length hair he had tied back in a strip of leather. Ahote, which he had explained meant “restless one,” was showing his bravery as he faced off with the desert snake. “He’s so brave. I hope he doesn’t get bitten.”
“I’m sure he knows what he’s doing.” Marie thought he might in more ways than just with the snake. Her friend was slowly being wooed, and she didn’t even know it.
The next thing they knew, Ahote was doing some kind of hypnotizing movements with his hands and the snake was in his thrall, as was almost everyone else. Out of nowhere, the hawk—his brother, Cetan—swooped down without a sound and dove for the snake’s neck, severing the head cleanly off. The crowd gasped, also unaware of the stealthy move. Just when they felt they could breathe again, a loud bang shot off, echoing off the surrounding monuments of clay and dirt.
“It’s all right, everyone. The boys took care of the snake. It’s all clear,” Butch announced.
“What was the shot for?” someone asked.
“Had to put the cow down,” Hank added, now standing with his musket over his shoulder, next to Butch. “There’s no coming back from that venom.”
After the excitement, the crowd dispersed back to their daily chores or whatever they had been doing to prepare for the coming night. Marie watched Rachael cautiously approach Ahote and begin talking. It made Marie smile, another new dawning to add to her future hope.