Sophie was trembling. She felt the almost prickling sensation she got when Calder shifted, and then he was beside her, sniffing at the body. Sophie forced herself to close her eyes and try to see the magic.
After a few moments, she found that it was exactly as she’d suspected: while everything around them brimmed with magic of one form or another, Jayda’s body was completely devoid of it, a black hole of nothingness in a galaxy full of magic.
“It was him,” she said, opening her eyes and looking down at Jayda’s face. Her eyes were open wide, in shock or fear. She was clutching a piece of paper in her hand, and Sophie gently pried it from her grip as Calder shifted back.
“Yeah, it was the fucking warlock,” he affirmed when he regained his human form.
Sophie managed to get the paper out of Jayda’s stiff hand. That cold, stiff, waxy feeling would give Sophie nightmares for a long time now, she knew.
She glanced at the paper. It was filled with big, loopy handwriting.
It was a letter to Sophie, from Jayda. Sophie guessed she’d been coming to the door to deliver it, maybe, when Marshall had destroyed her.
Sophie read it, and though she expected to start crying, all she felt was rage building instead.
“Sophie?” Calder asked.
She handed him the letter and stood up, still looking at Jayda. The letter had been about how she had no one, about how she’d been a foster kid, no parents, no family, and then Marshall had drawn her into his coven, and it had been easy because she’d finally felt like maybe this was somewhere she could belong. But Marshall had ignored her unless he’d wanted her to do something terrible, which had happened a few times. She’d written that when she’d felt the call to join Sophie, she had already been jaded enough not to expect much. And she’d found, to her surprise, that for the first time ever, she felt like she belonged somewhere. She had friends, who were starting to feel what she guessed family felt like. She’d never been part of something where it felt like everyone had each other's backs, but she had that now.
She’d thanked Sophie.
Sophie felt her rage building, Shadow exalting in the emotion.
“Find something to let it loose on,” Calder said quietly. “Look. That dead tree across the road at the edge of my property. See it?”
Sophie gave a terse nod and raised her hand. Instead of plucking it from the ground the way she had when she’d practiced with Esme, she sent her magic into it and it exploded, sending sawdust and splinters of wood everywhere.
“Do that one,” Calder said, pointing to another one. She let loose on that, and then a third. When she felt Shadow settle down, she turned to Calder. He pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly.
“I’m sorry, kitten,” he murmured against the top of her head. “She was nice.”
“She thanked me,” Sophie said angrily, tears stinging her eyes. “She goddamn thanked me for having her here.”
“Honey—”
“She’s dead, and I didn’t protect her,” she said, pulling back and wiping her eyes. “This was my responsibility. I was sleeping, relaxed and safe in your arms, and this was happening to her. This is my battle, and she’s dead because of it.”
“Just like so many others that Marshall targeted to get to you,” Calder said. “They knew this might happen. After Rob, they all recognized that he was targeting those around you. They talked about it when they hunted for him with Bryce’s pack. Bryce told me about it. They knew, and it gave them even more reason to try to find him.”
“And now she’s dead. I should have made them all go home—”
“Home to what?” he asked, raising his voice a little. “She had nothing. She was homeless before she came here. Over half of them were. You know that, right?”
She didn’t answer. Yes, she knew. It would have been better than this.
“They were homeless and alone. Most of them have no one but each other. Those who still have families aren’t close to them, because their families are afraid of them. You know all of this. This was their home, and if you’d have sent them away, they would have stayed here anyway. Maybe not on your land, but they wouldn’t have left Copper Falls.”
“I could have forced them to.”
“They would have come back,” he said gently. “You can’t tell people where to live. Not unless you want to be just like him.”
Sophie looked at Jayda’s body again. “I’ll have to call the preacher the pack uses. Give her a proper funeral and burial.”
Calder nodded. He went inside and came back out with a sheet, quickly draping it over Jayda’s body. The preacher the pack used was also a shifter. He would officiate over the funeral, and, afterwards, he and his brothers would dig a grave. This one would be on Sophie’s land, she thought bitterly. She’d said in her letter that she never, ever wanted to leave.
“I need to tell them. This is going to mess them up. They all adored her,” she said. It was almost impossible to speak. Her throat was tight, her stomach rolling and twisting, her heart racing. Shadow was rising again, and she took a deep breath, trying to force it down.
“I’ll go with you,” Calder said. “If you want.”
Sophie nodded. Calder put his clothes back on and took her hand. They walked toward the meadow, dotted as it was with several tents. She’d tried, over and over again, to get them to move into a hotel at the very least, but they’d said this felt like being on a camping trip. Winter had long since faded away, and the days were becoming warm, so at least they weren't out here in the snow.
She had to admit, weird though it was, the camp had a homey feeling. It felt like what she imagined one of those hippie communes must have felt like in the sixties. There was always music and laughter, and at night, sometimes, she could see them dancing around the fire.
As they neared, Sophie’s gut tightened. At this time of day, the fire was normally burning already so those who wanted coffee or tea could have it. There were a few early risers who could always be seen sitting up already. Vincent, who was one of the older men in her coven (twenty-four was old, it seemed, as far as her coven was concerned) did a crossword puzzle every morning while he sipped his huge daily mug of black coffee.
The camp was empty and quiet.
Sophie froze, unable to take another step forward.
“What—” Calder began. Sophie gave a little shake of her head and closed her eyes, sensing for the magic. The meadow was full of the Light magic that normally accompanied nature. It looked like a shimmery fog that kind of clung to the grasses, the small trees, and the forest beyond. If she looked down at herself, she saw Shadow, like an oil slick, flowing around her body. She would have seen the same from any of her Shadow coven, whether they were asleep or awake.
She made herself focus on the camp. Specifically, on the tents. Even as she tried to tell herself that they were just sleeping in, that they’d been up late hunting, she knew better.
Each tent held one or two magical voids. The same black hole type of thing that she saw when she’d looked down at Jayda’s body, as if someone had cut out a roughly human-shaped form and left everything else around it intact.
She scanned each tent, and then her knees gave out and she crumpled to the ground.
“Sophie,” Calder said, crouching beside her and taking her into his arms.
“They’re all gone. All of them,” she whispered. “He killed them all.”
Chapter Sixteen
The shifters had descended on Sophie’s property the moment Calder told Bryce what had happened. Sophie had called Esme, and he’d seen the redheaded witch arrive and survey the meadow before going into the house to see Sophie.
“I can smell him all over the encampment,” Bryce said as he walked up to Calder, affirming what Calder already knew. “Their eyes are all closed. The motherfucker drained them while they slept.”
Jon walked up to them, face grim, shoulders so hunched and tense Calder thought he might end up shifting out of pure rage.
Cald
er was barely holding onto control himself.
“There’s a scent trail leading toward the western woods,” he said.
A thought struck Calder.
“He can witchwalk,” he said. “That thing Sophie does where she just kind of takes a step and shows up across town.”
“Okay. And?” Jon asked.
“Why would he walk, leading us to him, if he knows he’s being hunted by shifters who can easily track him?”
Jon caught on first. “You think he’s messing with us. Giving us false leads.”
“Fucking warlock,” Bryce spat. “I have never wanted to rip someone’s spleen out so much in my life.”
Calder nodded. Bryce’s normally peaceful, laid back demeanor had slipped away more and more over the past several months since Layla’s injury at Marshall’s hands. The war within the pack, becoming alpha, and now all of this had completely worn it away. Calder wondered if he’d ever be himself again, or if this had changed them all in ways they could never come back from.
“We should probably still check it out, just in case,” Jon said. “At the very least, it’ll let them feel like they’re doing something useful,” he added in a low voice as he nodded toward the assembled shifters. Calder knew what he meant. They were already frustrated by how little luck they’d had finding the warlock. Now, he thought he knew why. After taking the first warlock’s power, he probably would have been able to start witchwalking again. Now—
“Fuck,” Calder growled as it dawned on him.
“What?” Bryce asked.
“A couple dozen warlocks and witches. He took every shred of power he could from thirteen goddamn Shadow witches.”
Bryce looked toward the tents again. “That’s a shitload of power. None of them were as strong as Sophie, but none of them were exactly weaklings, either.”
“Combined, they were stronger,” Calder said quietly. Being around Sophie made his bear edgy and angry, but he could handle it. Being in a room, or in the meadow with her Shadow coven was something he’d found nearly impossible to stand, which was why he’d never gotten to know them very well. He’d talked with a few during hunts, but that was always one or two at a time. Together, the coven had been too much.
“He’s going to strike at her soon,” Jon said. Calder nodded.
“We have to find this bastard before it ever gets to that point.” He looked toward the house. He saw Sophie in the driveway, standing with an older woman in front of a big red pickup truck. He recognized the older woman, and then remembered that she had lunch planned with her friend Thea. He guessed she’d forgotten too, and that lunch wouldn’t be happening.
He headed into the house, hoping Esme was still there. Jon followed.
When they stepped in the back door, he saw Esme sitting at the kitchen table, her usual bottle of vodka in her hand. She was pouring it into the amber-colored liquid in her teacup, and glanced up at him. He watched her gaze shift to Jon, and she gave a bitter little smile. “Of course there would be another one of you. Of course.”
“This is my brother, Jon. Jon, this is Esme.”
Jon nodded, and Calder watched as Esme studied him. “Same eyes. Luc was taller and broader, though.”
Jon apparently didn’t know what to say to that, so he stayed silent.
“Sophie told you what happened?” Calder asked. He sat in the chair nearest to Esme and picked up the bottle. “May I?”
“You look like you need it even more than I do right now. Be my guest,” Esme said as she sipped her tea. Calder lifted the bottle and took a long swallow.
“Dude. It’s nine o’clock in the morning,” Jon said.
“And it’s already been a long fucking day.”
“Good point,” Jon said, reaching for the bottle. He took a swallow as well, grimacing a little, then set the bottle back down on the table.
Esme watched them both in amusement, then turned her gaze back on Calder. “Yes, she told me. Your girl is hanging on by a thread.”
“I know. He’s strong now, right? Stronger than her.”
Esme nodded.
“We’re going to hunt. All of us. We’re going end this fucker before he gets close to her. Don’t tell me it’s too dangerous. We’ll take dangerous, but he’s not getting near Sophie again.”
“He’ll kill you.”
“Not if we kill him first,” Calder said grimly.
“If you have any chance at all, you need to take him unaware. If he knows you’re there, even an instant before you attack him, you’re dead,” Esme said. “So your task is impossible. You have to hope you stumble on him, which won’t happen because he’s a master of living undetected.”
“Unless we can smell him,” Calder said.
Esme shook her head. “This is a task for witches. Not shifters. Not even bear shifters with a grudge.”
“I need you to do something for me,” Calder said, meeting Esme’s eyes. He knew it wasn’t fair, that her feelings for Luc, which, for whatever reason, extended to him, would make her agree to help. It was shitty to use that against her. But he’d do it anyway.
“What?” she asked.
“Stay with her. Don’t let her out of your sight. I’m not coming home until I find him. I’m taking the pack with me, and her coven is gone. I know she’s strong. But she’s not stronger than he is anymore.”
“And he’s experienced and ruthless. Two things she most definitely is not,” Esme said with a nod.
“Yeah. I’m begging you. Stay with her.”
Esme grimaced. “She was already trying to get me to move in here until he’s found, afraid that he’ll target me next. I was refusing, but I guess I’ll have a change of heart.” She didn’t sound happy about it, but Calder felt the tension in his shoulders lessen, just a bit.
“Thank you,” he said. “I owe you.”
“I don’t suppose that payment could be rendered in sex acts, could it?” she asked, and he heard Jon choke a little behind him.
Calder smiled. “Sorry.”
She sighed dramatically, back to her usual self. “Story of my life, teddy bear. Story of my life. Go hunt. I’ll stay. Make sure you come back alive.”
Chapter Seventeen
Two days and almost three full nights.
She hadn’t heard a word from Calder in all that time. He hadn’t answered her calls or texts. Esme kept assuring her that he was fine, that where the hell would a bear store a phone, anyway?
He hadn’t even told her he was leaving. Just taken off with his brother and Bryce’s pack. He knew damn well how much more powerful Marshall was now. He knew how dangerous it was, that Marshall could end them with nothing more than a thought, and he’d gone anyway, without telling her.
Because he knew she would have argued. She would have raged and cried and begged him not to go. And it would have worked, too.
Bright moonlight streamed in her bedroom window, though within a couple of hours, it would be replaced by the cool light of dawn.
She threw off her covers and slipped into her shoes, then quietly slunk out of her room. She glanced toward the daybed, where Esme snored in her cocoon of quilts and afghans. The woman was always wrapped up. For someone who couldn't feel the cold, Esme couldn't seem to wear enough layers. Sophie hadn’t realized that before spending these last two days with her.
They were about ready to kill each other. One more reason to tell Calder’s ass off when she found him.
If she found him.
She shoved that voice of doubt down. She’d find him. And she had a whole lot to say to him when she did. She didn’t need a knight to slay her own personal dragon. She needed him to sit his ass in their cottage and stay safe before Marshall took him away from her, too.
She tiptoed out the back door and pulled it closed behind her, slowly, determined not to wake Esme. She stood on the back steps and closed her eyes, focusing. She knew that if he was nearby, she could sense him. He wasn’t anywhere close, most likely, but with the amount of Light magic that would st
ick to an entire (if small) pack of shifters, she might be able to get a sense of where they were hunting.
Focusing was almost impossible. She was stressed out, worried, and angry with him for taking off like this. She missed him. She was exhausted from being with Esme all the time. She could focus for a few moments at a time before it seemed to break, and then she had to start all over again.
“Oh, come on,” she muttered, closing her eyes.
She scanned the surrounding forest. She saw it all as its usual haze of Light magic, kind of soft and glittery. Spots of Shadow could be found here and there, like tumors. She furrowed her brow. Those weren’t caused by her. She forced herself to focus on those areas. They seemed random, some near, some further away. Some were on pack land, which backed up to hers.
Those areas might give her an idea of where to find Marshall. She focused on them a bit more, but she couldn’t find any pattern, any sense to the way they were spaced.
As she scanned toward the north, she picked up a brighter area of Light magic.
That had to be the pack. She took a breath in relief. They were alive, at the very least.
She focused on that area, and took a step. When she opened her eyes again, she found herself deep in the forest, towering pines soaring overhead. The pack seemed to have decided to rest for a while. There was no fire, no sign that this was anything more than a short break. They were all still in their wolf and bear forms.
She felt a tingle of magic nearby and turned. Bryce walked toward her.
“What are you doing here?” he whispered. “And where's that other witch?”
“I”m looking for Calder, because he’s about to get a piece of my mind. Esme’s at my place. Still sleeping, I assume.”
“You should be home,” Bryce insisted.
“So should you,” she told him, and then she made her way between the sleeping shifters. Several raised their heads and looked at her. Just before she reached the larger of the bears, it opened its eyes and gave a low, irritated growl.
Calder shifted back, and she tried not to react to the sight of him.
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