Tala Prophecy: The Complete Series

by Tia Silverthorne Bach

  Reagan was home.

  Breathless from running most of the night, Reagan collapsed on the ground by the closest tree. She leaned forward and put her head between her legs, trying to control her rapid breathing. Nothing could slow down her mind as it began processing the last few days.

  “How you holding up, dear?” Papa sat down beside her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. Until a few days ago, she thought her grandfather was dead. Now, he was her only lifeline.

  She willed herself back into a sitting position, Papa’s arm still providing comfort. “I don’t know how to feel right now. You’re supposed to be dead, my parents put me in a mental hospital, I thought my brother was killed, people talk to me in my head, and I’m part witch and part werewolf.” Reagan considered adding more to the list but knew she’d made her point.

  “I know it’s a lot to take in. But you have to trust us right now. There’s a lot on the line.”

  “It would help if I had some answers. It’s all I’ve wanted since Sam disappeared. For Christ’s sake, I thought he was dead. Sure, I hear him in my head, but I want to see him with my own two eyes. Everything I thought was real is gone. I can’t even trust my parents.” Reagan took a moment to digest those words. She’d always trusted her parents, even thought she had a pretty cool relationship with them. But everything changed when she and her brother were attacked. Now she was sitting here with the grandfather she never knew—a man her grandmother and mother believed was dead. “I don’t even know if I can trust you. Or Rowan.”

  Rowan had saved her, but his brother, Rafe, had tried to rape her at the very least. Whatever other intentions he’d had that night were thwarted by Reagan’s gun-toting mother, a woman who’d never picked up a gun before that evening. Reagan’s body was exhausted, but her brain was working overtime trying to make sense out of everything.

  Papa uncurled his arm and stood up. He put one hand on the nearest oak and leaned into it. “There’s so much we need to talk about. Maybe it would be best if I start with that night so many years ago.”

  “Or, we could start by talking about werewolves. Oh, and how you let Nana, and your own daughters, believe you were dead all these years!” Reagan’s anger punctuated every word.

  “Let him speak.”

  Rowan. Having him in her head sent shivers down her spine.

  “Rowan, if you have the answers, why don’t you tell me?” Reagan sent her thoughts back to him. Or she tried to. She wasn’t totally sure how the whole communicate with your handsome werewolf friend thing worked. Then he was there. She wanted to be angry with him and tell him to mind his own business, but instead she felt her pulse quicken in reaction to his presence. Cursing herself and her hormones, she forced her attention back to Papa.

  “Years ago, your grandmother knew something was happening. We all knew: me, Susie, Sarah. But we didn’t know just how bad things had gotten. There were rumors of animal attacks. We suspected there was some dark magic—or something—involved. There were too many attacks, and too many people had gone missing. But we had no clue a battle was brewing. Nor did we know just how close to home the fight was getting.

  “I gathered some of my hunter friends, ones I knew I could trust. Nothing could’ve prepared us for what we found. When we entered the clearing, we noticed several bodies, each torn apart with the pieces thrown around. A head here, a severed arm there. Then we heard screaming, and we knew the attacks weren’t over. We ran toward the sound.”

  Papa paused. He put his hand over his closed eyes. Reagan got up and walked over to him. This time it was her turn to offer comfort, and she wrapped her arms around his middle. It felt right.

  “The wolves were massive, like nothing I’d ever seen. And I’ve seen some damn big animals in my life. They were throwing bodies like you’d toss trash into a bin. We pulled out our guns and started firing. The wolves were unfazed as they crept toward us.

  “We started backing into the woods, but realized we were surrounded. I thought it was over. That’s when I met Rowan. And Rafe.”

  “Rafe? What does Rafe have to do with all of this?”

  “Did you know we’re brothers?” Rowan asked.

  “Yes, Rafe did mention that the night he attacked me.” Reagan pulled away from Papa and started pacing as she recalled the event and shuddered. Rafe had attacked her just outside her parents’ house, talking crazy about werewolves. Or, it seemed crazy at the time.

  “There’s a war brewing. And you’re right in the center of it,” Rowan said.

  “More riddles. What the hell is that supposed to mean? A war? Me?” Reagan’s head pounded. It was too much to process. A howl ripped through the air.

  “We’ve got company,” Papa said.

  “Time to go. We’re close to a safe place. Stay with me.” Rowan grabbed her hand. With his other hand, he tipped her chin up. “I’m with you, the whole way. Don’t worry.”

  Don’t worry. Really? War. Running. Werewolves. Nothing to worry about. Even with all the drama and fear, she couldn’t silence her inner sarcasm.

  “You two get started. Madeleine, Sasha, Ricardo, and I will be right behind you. We just want to make sure nobody gets close.” Papa turned to Rowan. “Keep our girl safe.”

  Her life was in the hands of people she was just beginning to trust as well as people she hadn’t even met yet. Before she could process her feelings, she caught a flash of fur out of the corner of her eye.

  “They’re here.” Rowan’s voice penetrated her thoughts.

  Panic seized her muscles, and she wasn’t sure which way to turn. Papa and Rowan were on either side of her, forming a shield of protection, and each of them was scanning the area for the threat.

  First one wolf and then another burst through the trees. There were at least five of them. Eyes wide and heart pumping, Reagan looked to the two men at her side for some direction. Papa made eye contact with Rowan and pointed to one side; Rowan nodded.

  A few more wolves entered the area just as Papa and Rowan yelled for Reagan to get clear. Terrified, she scanned the area to find a wolf-free passage into the trees and took it. Halfway there, she saw a wolf jump at her from the side. She braced for impact, throwing her arms up in front of her face; but a darker wolf took the threat out in mid-air. Turning to look back, Reagan saw flashes of fur in battle; Rowan and Papa were nowhere in sight.

  “Run. We’ll be right behind you.” It was Papa.

  Taking off like a runner who just heard the starting shot at a meet, she bolted toward the nearest copse of trees. Without looking back or considering where she was going, she sped away. Nature blended together into a series of colors and flashing lights as she tried to control her breathing; which was hampered due to exertion and fear. Resting wasn’t an option, and the pure will to survive was all that was keeping her going.

  Just as she entered another open and vulnerable space, she caught a glimpse of an animal coming up on her side. She forced herself to run faster, but she sensed it gaining on her. Her heart nearly jumped out of her chest when she felt something brush her back. She jerked her head toward the sensation only to catch her foot on a protrusion of some kind. At the speed she was going, it was all she could do to force her body into a tuck position as she fell. Her body slammed into a nearby tree. Gasping for air, she struggled to get back to standing as a figure swam into her vision.

  “It’s me. You’re safe, but we have to get out of here.” Rowan’s face came into view, although her head was still spinning and her vision was blurry.

  “Papa?”

  Before Rowan could answer, the sound of crinkling leaves and low growls forced both of them into action. Hand in hand, they took off into the forest.

  Reagan had no clue how many miles they covered by the time Rowan slowed down. She’d managed to hold a steady pace with him, but was grateful for the reprieve. A longtime runner, she still couldn’t believe how much faster she moved when she let her wolf side take control.

  As they eased their pace to a stop
, questions started bombarding her brain: Wouldn’t they have covered more ground in wolf form? She hadn’t changed on her own yet. Would they teach her? Could she only change during a full moon like the stories said? All those queries, but few she felt ready to ask. So she started with a simple one. “Where’s Papa?”

  “Right behind us. He and Madeleine were taking care of the last few wolves when he sent me after you.” Rowan motioned for Reagan to follow him through a rocky entrance.

  Darkness consumed them as they entered the cave. She had one hand on Rowan’s back as he led her deeper into the promise of safety. Just ahead was a small flicker of light, and it grew brighter with each step forward. Her eyes narrowed as she was brought into an open room, the brilliance overwhelming her. As her vision focused, she noticed a group of about twenty people.

  “This is Reagan, everyone.”

  She wasn’t sure what she expected, but all she got were quizzical stares and tilted heads. Before anyone could speak, Papa walked in joined by three others. Each of them had some sort of robe on. Reagan could only assume they were Madeleine, Sasha, and Ricardo.

  “We lost them, but it was close.” Papa squeezed the words out between gasps just before Reagan ran into his arms.

  “I’m so glad you’re okay,” she said with her face buried in his chest.

  “We need to make plans, and we need to do it fast. There isn’t much time left. Have you filled her in?” The French accent sounded haughty, especially with the way the girl lingered over her. Not a girl. Madeleine was quite the woman. Voluptuous, as Reagan’s mom would say about older movie stars like Marilyn Monroe, was the perfect word to describe this raven-haired vixen. Her crystal blue eyes and pale skin were quite the contrast. She was stunning.

  “We haven’t met.” Reagan extended her hand. “I’m Reagan. And you are…”

  Sneering at the friendly gesture, the lady answered, “Madeleine.”

  “Glad that’s cleared up,” Reagan said, lowering her untouched hand. “And, no, I haven’t been filled in. Papa? Rowan?”

  “We’re all exhausted. Let’s get something to eat and introduce you to everyone. Then, I promise, we’ll sit down and talk.” Papa laid a hand on her arm and led her into another area of the cave. Inside were wooden tables and chairs. Fluorescent lights were glowing overhead and there were several refrigerators and freezers. Wonderful smells infiltrated her nose, and she realized how hungry she was. No surprise after all the running. Hunger overruled the curiosity of how her new friends had turned a cave into a cafeteria.

  She filled a bowl full of chili from a huge Crock-Pot, grabbed some crackers, topped off a mug with water, and walked over to the nearest table. Rowan and Papa sat down next to her within a few minutes.

  “Chili, hamburgers, hot dogs. Quite a spread you have going here,” Reagan said. It wasn’t quite what she was expecting; but, then again, she wasn’t prepared for anything that was happening.

  “What did you expect?” Rowan asked—making her wonder if any of her thoughts were private.

  “I don’t know, honestly. A huge pig, barely cooked.”

  Both Rowan and Papa chuckled.

  “We’re not animals,” Papa said. In response to her lifted brow, he continued, “There’s so much you need to learn. So much I need to teach you. You’re at the center of something very big. Something people will kill to change. And it all hinges on you. Or, rather, you and Sam.”

  “He’s alive, isn’t he?” It was the first time she really let herself consider the possibility. Sam was alive to her, in her head and her heart. But thanks to all the psychobabble after the accident, she wondered if the voice she heard was really his or just some manifestation of her grief and desire for him to be alive. Could he really be out there looking for her? Scared? In danger? And how could this war have anything to do with them?

  “Yes. They got to him before we could.”

  “Who’re they? Better yet, who’re we? And what do Sam and I have to do with any of this?”

  Rowan and Papa exchanged glances. Reagan tried to focus her energy, see if she could read their minds. A few words came through: prophecy, danger, her mom. Wait, her mom?

  “What does my mom have to do with any of this?” Reagan asked, slamming her hand on the table to get their attention. Unfortunately, it drew stares from everyone around them.

  Madeleine sauntered up and sat down next to Rowan. “Rowan, honey, don’t make the little lady so angry. Just tell her. She’s not doing us any good staying in the dark.” Reagan noticed how Madeleine rubbed Rowan’s thigh as she talked. And that damned French accent. Reagan was sure many men had succumbed to this lady, with her purring language.

  Rowan edged away from Madeleine.

  Reagan wanted to make sure she was controlling this conversation, not some two-bit French floozy. “Back to my mom. I’ll ask again. What could she possibly have to do with any of this?”

  “Sweetie, there’s so much you don’t understand,” Papa said with a heavy sigh. “You know your mom had difficulty getting pregnant, right?”

  Why the hell is he talking about this right now? I don’t want to think about my mother’s fertility problems. Nana had mentioned it, but what could it have to with wolves and prophecies? Calming the internal tirade, Reagan took a huge breath and traipsed down the conversation path her grandfather was leading her along. “I didn’t know until recently, when I was talking to Nana and Aunt Sarah.”

  “Your mom and Nana have had some hard times,” Papa said. He paused, looking off for a second and taking a deep breath. For the first time, she noticed the wrinkles lacing his forehead. “Susie looked for other ways when traditional medicine failed her. She visited a man, Cheveyo, and he helped her. But he had his own interests.”

  “Am I Rosemary’s Baby or something?” Reagan asked, horrified.

  Papa, who’d lifted a spoonful of chili to his mouth after he finished talking, almost spit it out. He grabbed a napkin and wiped his face before he responded. “There’s a blast from the past. I’m surprised you even know that one.”

  “Mom likes scary movies, and we’d hang out in our pajamas on a Friday or Saturday night and watch.” Tears formed in Reagan’s eyes, and she wiped them away with the back of her hand. She missed her mom. Even after everything that had happened, Reagan wished her mom could be there, offering comfort.

  “Well, no, you aren’t the spawn of Satan. But you are special. We think Cheveyo made sure Susie’s unborn child would be strong enough to fulfill the prophecy. I can only guess that he believed you’d be the one; you and your sibling.”

  “So that’s why Sam was taken. He’s part of the puzzle.”

  Reagan had forgotten Rowan was sitting there until he spoke, because she was so intently focused on Papa.

  “One of flame, one of night—” Madeleine began.

  “We’ll get to that,” Papa said, cutting her off before she could recite anymore.

  “This Cheveyo. Was he a Wiccan?”

  “He’s been called many things over the years: Shaman, Warlock, Master. His daughter was one of us, but she was taken and later killed. I think it made him more determined to see the prophecy fulfilled.”

  So much loss. “So what exactly do Sam and I have to do with the prophecy, and what did this dude do to my mother?”

  “We’re still piecing a lot of things together. It’s why I could never go home,” Papa said, a single tear rolling down his face before he shook it off and continued, “Soon, the signs will begin. We have to be prepared, and we have a very limited time until your birthday. But, first things first, we need to get Sam back. We can’t do it without both of you. Rafe knows that.”

  “Rafe? He’s in jail.”

  “He won’t be for long. That much I can guarantee you. If he’s not out already,” Rowan said.

  “He’s your brother. Can’t you talk to him?”

  “She’ll never understand. She’s a freaking overprotected teenager! We can’t waste time getting her on board.” Madel
eine stood up and walked over to Reagan. “This is life and death, baby. You need to trust us, and do what you’re told.” Madeleine shoved her finger into Reagan’s chest with each word.

  Reagan’s anger bubbled to the surface, and she wasn’t about to let some trollop push her around. She jumped up and the chair spun backward ten feet. “In the last few months, I’ve essentially lost everything. So don’t get in my face and call me baby. You don’t know anything about me.”

  Madeleine didn’t give up any ground, even with Reagan acting aggressive in return. “One thing I know: You have no clue what it means to lose everything.” Madeleine spun around and stomped away.

  Reagan turned back to Rowan and Papa. “What’s her problem?”

  “She’s right. There’s so much you don’t understand. Hell, there’s so much we don’t know at this point.” Rowan began pacing back and forth in a small, three foot section.

  Reagan reached out to him, but he kept moving.

  “I think it’s time we paid Cheveyo a visit. We need to get to the bottom of this prophecy, find out more about Reagan’s powers, and ask exactly what he did to my Susie when she was pregnant. The only problem is finding the guy,” Papa said.

  “There you go with this damned prophecy talk again. A prophecy you haven’t shared with me, by the way. It seems like the girl in the prophecy should know the freaking prophecy!”

  “Not yet. Soon, I promise. I’ll share every word of it with you,” Papa said, speaking in a way Reagan found very calming.

  “I’m going to hold you to that promise. But, back to Cheveyo. Seems like we should start with a visit to Mom first then, doesn’t it?” Reagan knew her suggestion made sense; but, deep down, she just wanted to see her mom again.

  “It’s dangerous, but it’s the best plan,” Rowan said.

  “They’ll be watching her, just like they’ve always been watching Jackie. I can’t put my daughter in danger.”

  Reagan heard the love in Papa’s voice, for his daughter and his wife. She loved them, too, and couldn’t bear to lose any of them. “Nana and Mom are already in danger. Whoever this they is, do you really think they aren’t going to go after our relatives as a way to get to us?”