Tala Prophecy: The Complete Series

by Tia Silverthorne Bach

  “I had dreams. I could see the wolf so clearly. Except I was never scared of it. Ever.”

  Dreams. No body. Wolf attacks. Reagan’s head was spinning. She went back to sit on the bench and stared out into the dark night. Then, it dawned on her Rafe knew an awful lot about her family and what happened, and he only moved into town after the accident.

  “Did you come here because of what happened? Were you guys looking for me?”

  A menacing grin spread across Rafe’s face as he approached Reagan. “Ah, you’re starting to listen. Yes, we came here for you. We need you.”

  “Need me for what?” Reagan asked, backing up to the other side of the sofa when Rafe sat down. Now he was completely freaking her out.

  “Neither of our brothers’ bodies were ever found. We think they’re still out there, but different. If we could find them, we could help them. Bring them around. Our skills matched with yours would give us an edge.”

  Oh God, please let me wake up. This has to be a dream. Nothing is making sense.

  “But we can’t waste any more time. We’ve lost so much already. The next full moon is September 30, just weeks away. I’ve seen what you’re capable of the last two full moons. I know you’re what we’ve been waiting for.”

  Full moon. A kaleidoscope of colors swirled around her brain faster and faster until a bright light blew up and created a mushroom cloud of clarity. Werewolves. Rafe was talking about werewolves! Now panic set in full force.

  “That’s it. You’ve crossed over to crazy town.” Reagan stood up.

  Rafe caught her arm and slammed her down on the bench. “I’m not playing any more games with you. You will help us.”

  “Fight!” It was Sam screaming in her head.

  Reagan threw her elbow into Rafe’s jaw. It landed, and he lost hold of her for a moment. She scrambled to get up, but he was back on her. This time he threw her to the ground. He slammed her head into the wood floor. Blood trickled down her face and into her mouth. He turned her over, still sitting on top of her, “Bitch, don’t fight. I’m stronger.”

  Bitch. He was the second person that week to call her that. She was done. He might have more strength, but she was a witch. A witch with a gun-toting Daddy. “Dad!” Reagan screamed with everything in her.

  Rafe threw his hand over her mouth, flipped her back over, and banged her head into the floor again. Dizzy and nauseous, it took all she had to throw her head back into Rafe’s. The crack was as loud as her scream. He was stunned long enough for Reagan to start shrieking again. Sitting up to try to get away, the nausea won and she started puking.

  Along with a crazed Nanook, Dad was on top of Rafe in seconds. After a punch was thrown, a gunshot echoed through the air. She looked out into the yard and saw her mother standing there with Dad’s rifle; poised and ready to fire again.

  Dad yanked Rafe to his feet, secured Nanook to the railing, and then yelled over to Reagan’s mother, “Call the police, Susie. Now!”

  She ran inside.

  Reagan’s father turned back just in time to take a hard blow to his side from the wooden chair Rafe was wielding. A loud cracking sound filled the gazebo. As Dad started to stand up, Rafe slammed his body into Dad’s stomach, throwing him into the side. Taking advantage of his momentary defeat, Rafe grabbed Reagan and started to run.

  “No!” Nana’s voice was clear.

  But it was Nanook who broke free and knocked both Reagan and Rafe to the ground. Sounds of growling and ripping clothes consumed Reagan. Hearing was all she had left, since a blinding headache stole her vision. She tried to fight her way through it, but blackness took over.

  Being lifted onto a gurney, transported in an ambulance, and wheeled into the hospital were all flickering images in her pounding head—like she was going in and out of a bad dream. People in scrubs transferred her to a room where a machine circled her head. The pain was so severe she kept going in and out of consciousness.

  “Reagan, can you hear me?”

  Reagan turned her head and strained to see anything but florescent lights. She tried to answer, but her mouth was stuck together and dry. She nodded, using as little energy as possible since her head was still pounding.

  “You have a concussion, so we’ll be keeping you here for observation. How are you feeling?”

  “Not so good,” Reagan said. “Head hurts.”

  “Your mom stepped out for a moment, but she should be back any second. If you need anything, hit your nurse call button. I’m on until seven,” the nurse said. She left the room, and Reagan tried harder to stay awake, at least until her mom got back.

  Thankfully, it wasn’t long. “Reagan, I’m so glad you’re awake.”

  “Where’s Dad? Nana?”

  “Dad is talking to the police. Nana is in the waiting room.” Mom walked over to the side of the bed and reached for Reagan’s hand. “Honey, what were you thinking sneaking out to talk to that boy?”

  “I don’t know. I was having an awful dream. He was in it, or maybe he wasn’t. It all got so confusing. He started talking about how both of our brothers got killed, and how I needed to join him, and—”

  “Slow down. Slow down. You aren’t making any sense,” Susie said, concern etching deeper into her face, making each wrinkle more prominent. She looked so old. Reagan had never thought of her mother as old until that very minute; unhip and sadly reaching for cool, but never old.

  “Did he try to rape you?” Mom asked, tears streaming down her face.

  “No!” Reagan said. “He was talking crazy. He just wanted to take me with him; I think.” Nothing was clear anymore. She remembered pieces of the crazy conversation, one that included talk of full moons.

  “Your dad and I don’t know what to do anymore. You’ve never been in trouble, but in a week, you’ve been suspended and attacked. Attacked because you snuck out at three in the morning.”

  “Are you saying it’s my fault Rafe attacked me?”

  Mom shook her head and rubbed Reagan’s hand. “No, of course not. It’s just,” Mom hesitated, rubbing her forehead with her free hand. “We’re worried. I’ve never seen a scene like I saw tonight. That boy was out of his mind. A boy we let you spend the night with.”

  “What happened to Rafe?” And why do I care?

  “We had him arrested. He’s being held in Boulder.”

  The room felt like it was slowly closing in on them. Rafe was in jail. How had it come to this?

  Reagan also wanted to say something to make her mom feel better, but things were getting out of control. If memory served, and Reagan’s memory was definitely something to call into question, she thought Rafe was talking about werewolves. One memory she didn’t question was what the wolf in her dreams said before Rafe came.

  “How dare you bring him here?”

  ↄↄↄↄↄ

  “Mrs. Blake, I’m Dr. Ableman. It’s nice to meet you. I’m glad you could join us today,” Dr. Ableman said when he walked out into the waiting room. All the women hesitated. None of them wanted to walk into that room, but each for their own reasons.

  They followed Dr. Ableman into his office, walking with careful steps, like they were being led into a torture chamber. The three chairs awaiting them looked cold and uninviting, but they sat anyway.

  “Reagan, I understand you’ve had a difficult week. Do you feel comfortable talking about it?”

  There was nothing comfortable about the situation she was in, and it wasn’t like she had a choice but to talk. She knew if she didn’t start spilling the beans, her mother would. Desperate to have control of the information being imparted to the good doctor, Reagan began, “I broke a girl’s nose at school and my boyfriend attacked me.” She told him the details of both situations and then added, “My father and my amazing dog saved me from Rafe. Mom and Nana, too. Mom fired the shot that startled him.”

  “I’ve never fired a gun, but . . .” Mom twisted the handkerchief in her hands. “But, I heard Reagan scream and I just reacted. He was attacking
my daughter, for Christ’s sake. Doctor, I just don’t know how much more of this I can take.”

  “I understand; that’s why we’re here. You and your daughter have been through so much in a short time. Reagan, you seem to be exhibiting increasing frustration, even anger. Are you still hearing voices?”

  To lie or not to lie, that was the question. To say yes was to go directly to the psych ward, do not pass go, do not collect two-hundred dollars. But, at this point, a simple no would be a lie, too. A lie Reagan wasn’t sure she could tell. She hesitated, waiting for Sam’s voice to guide her. It didn’t come. Nice, Sam, she thought. Now you go quiet!

  Reagan decided the best answer was the honest one. “I know it sounds crazy to say I hear voices. I’ll admit to being confused, but Sam isn’t telling me to go out and kill people. He’s not telling me to punch the girl at school who called me a bitch and is sleeping with my ex-boyfriend. I like having him in my head. He’s the only thing that makes sense. Maybe he’s my own way of dealing.” Considering she didn’t have an advanced degree in psychology, or even a high school degree yet, she was pretty impressed with her assessment of the situation.

  “So he is talking to you. And how often does this occur?” Dr. Ableman asked, making notes.

  There was no winning. “I’m not answering any more questions. You may want to convince everyone here that I’m insane, but I’m not gonna help you. I plead the fifth.”

  “This isn’t a courtroom. You aren’t on trial, Reagan.”

  “Really? Because that’s not the way it feels to me.” Reagan turned to face her mom. “I’ve tried, but this guy isn’t helping. We—you, me, and Nana—just need to sit down and figure this out. We have the ability.” Reagan wanted to air quote the last two words, but she knew the damned doctor would make a note in his stupid little book.

  “There’s no reason to be rude,” Mom said, her cheeks turning red.

  Mom might put some faith in this guy, but Reagan was done. She got up to leave.

  “Reagan, please sit down.”

  She looked at her grandmother for help, but Nana stared at the floor. Reagan sat down, determined not to answer any more questions.

  Dr. Ableman must’ve sensed this, because he turned to Nana. “Tell me about your relationship with your daughter, and with Reagan.”

  Reagan, not knowing if her powers had any control, or even what she would do with them if they did, chanted the word strength over and over again in her head. She wanted Nana to stay strong and not give this guy anything to write in his notebook. How could a simple office supply cause such angst?

  “It means the world to me, as does my relationship with my granddaughter,” Nana said. Looking directly at her daughter and ignoring Dr. Ableman, like he wasn’t even in the room, she continued, “I’ve missed being a part of your life.”

  Mom shifted in her seat, and a tear drifted down her cheek. “Mom, I want you to be a part of our lives, but I can’t condone your ways. I don’t want that for Reagan.”

  “Why? What’s so awful about it? Your sister is a successful doctor and you turned out pretty damned well, too.” Continuing to ignore Dr. Ableman’s presence in the room, Nana looked directly into her daughter’s eyes.

  Mom turned in her chair to face her mother. “Mom, Sarah is lonely. She’s never found a man and she’s not going to have any children. And I got away from it.”

  If the words hurt Nana, Reagan couldn’t tell. A deep sadness overwhelmed her. She couldn’t bear to see her mom and grandmother, two people Reagan cared about very much, at such odds. She didn’t want to choose between them, but she feared it was coming to that.

  Nana’s voice broke through Reagan’s thoughts. “You got away from me and your sister. Your kids didn’t get to have a grandmother or an aunt.”

  Reagan watched the conversation ping pong back and forth. She knew she should step in, say what she wanted, but they seemed oblivious to anyone else in the room.

  “My kids didn’t have a grandfather, either.”

  The ball, evenly played back and forth for the last few minutes, landed far right for the score.

  Nana sat motionless for a moment before responding. “There’s so much you don’t understand about what happened, so much none of us can understand. You should know from losing Sam we can’t always control what happens to our loved ones. I loved your father, and I miss him every single day of my life. And it’s only pained me more to know my daughter thinks I sent him to his death without as much as a second thought.”

  The words hung in the air, dead weight; but only for a moment. Mom stood up and walked toward the door. She reached out for the handle, but just before turning it, she said, “Are you trying to say I sent Sam to his death by being in the woods? That I should have fought his father for wanting to camp close to the restricted area?” She turned to the doctor. “We’re done for the day. Please call my mother a cab. Reagan, meet me in the car.”

  No! Please don’t let it end this way. Why was her mother shutting it down? After all these years, the two women were finally talking. Reagan hung her head, disappointed at what a coward her mother was. All Reagan wanted was for her mom to fight for a relationship, not just with Nana, but also with her daughter.

  Reagan spoke as her mom turned to leave. “I’m staying with Nana.”

  Mom flinched, but never turned around. “So be it.” And she was gone.

  The room stayed quiet for a few seconds before Nana spoke up, “Reagan, you should go with your mother.”

  “No, I want to help you find a cab and get you back home,” Reagan said.

  “I’m not sure I’m welcome there any longer.”

  “We’ll figure that out when we get home. When we’re with family and not in some dark cave of an office,” Reagan said, throwing the last statement directly at Dr. Ableman. She stood to go, happy with herself for her small moment of disobedience.

  If Dr. Ableman said anything, her mind moved right past it. She took her Nana’s hand and walked out to the street. This wasn’t New York City or any other bustling town, it’s not like cabs were whizzing by every few minutes. Reagan’s mind came up with Plan B, and she grabbed her phone.

  Reagan typed: COULD YOU COME GET ME AND MY NANA IN BOULDER?

  Only seconds later, the text came back: SURE. ADDRESS?

  Reagan sent it, and added: THANKS.

  With too much energy to just stand there, Reagan texted for Serena to pick them up at the Starbucks on Pearl Street instead. Reagan could use a walk in the fresh air. She put her arm around Nana.

  “Serena’s coming to get us. It’s just this way a few blocks. We’ll get home and sit down with Mom. She wasn’t thinking in there; of course, it’s hard to think in there. Anyway, you didn’t say anything about Sam’s death being her fault, or anything about where they chose to set up camp that night. That was crazy, and it wasn’t fair.”

  “Your mom has to work through some of this stuff. I think she needs some space to do that,” Nana said.

  “What about me? Mom isn’t trying to help me. You are.”

  “Your mother is trying to help you in her own way.”

  “Her way isn’t working. I have to explore these dreams and find out what’s going on. I don’t think there’s an easy answer, or one that will seem very normal. All of that will get me locked up if we do things Mom’s way. And I’m less afraid when you’re around, more willing to face this thing head on.”

  “Like you did at school when you broke that girl’s nose, or when you put yourself in danger with that boy?”

  Reagan stopped dead in her tracks. Nana had never chastised Reagan before. She didn’t like it. “Not you, too. God, isn’t anyone gonna give me a break? I thought I could count on you to understand.”

  Nana reached out and put her hand on Reagan’s arm to force her to stop walking and turn around. “You can count on me, and I’m trying to understand. Just like I try to understand every day what happened to your grandfather, the love of my life. But sometimes the
re are things we can’t understand, or that we shouldn’t. I just want you safe. I don’t want to lose anyone else I love. And I don’t want to hurt your mom anymore. Whether she can see it or not, I love her. I love her, you, and Sarah more than my own life. You’ll understand that someday when you’re a mother.”

  Reagan and Nana walked the rest of the way in silence. They sat down on a bench just outside Starbucks, waiting on Serena to arrive. Not too long later, Reagan received a text to walk around to a side street.

  “Hey, thanks for picking us up,” Reagan said as they got in the car.

  “No problem. Hi, Nana,” Serena said.

  Nana waved, but didn’t say anything.

  Serena shot Reagan a look, but she shook her head. She was grateful her friend knew enough not to ask any questions.

  ↄↄↄↄↄ

  When they pulled up to Reagan’s house, her mom’s car was not in the driveway. Nobody was home. Reagan thanked Serena before taking Nana’s hand and heading inside.

  They hadn’t made it past the first room before Nana started speaking. “Reagan, I need to go. I have to give your mom some space.” Reagan started to protest, but Nana put up one finger and continued, “Shh. I’m not going to disappear from your life. You can contact me any time. I know I’m just getting the hang of this texting thing, but I’ll only be a simple text or phone call away. Day or night.”

  “You’ll have to get a better phone first,” Reagan said, feeling the weight of the words bearing down on her shoulders.

  “Then I will. I don’t think you should give up on finding your answers your way, but I think you need to be careful with yourself and considerate of your mother. She’s about to break, too, and she doesn’t always make the best decisions when she does.”

  Since Sam’s death, strong emotions were common. But lately it had been anger or frustration. Now, for one of the first times since the funeral, Reagan felt intense sadness and loss. She didn’t want to see Nana leave, but understood why she felt she had to go.