by Cecy Robson
Mom’s head drops into her hand. “But it’s not the right time,” she says.
“No,” Mimi agrees. “The light witch’s spell was powerful, but untamed. It spiraled out of control, surging in strength, instead of dwindling. It fed the ley lines and forced them to shift.”
“What are ley lines?” Celia asks.
She already knows it’s bad news. I barely have the nerve to answer. “Magical lines that run throughout the earth and in conjunction with fault lines.”
Mimi quickly takes more tea when Mom presses the cup against her cracked lips. “It triggered the earthquakes and summoned dark storms and weather, altering and mismatching periods of time, and stirring creatures meant to huddle in darkness.” She chuckles without humor. “Creatures the dark ones were more than pleased to use in their favor to hunt the tigress.”
Mom turns to Dad. I’ve never seen her so devastated. “That’s how they located Celia, Aidan. These dark witches may reside in the future, but unlike the light witch, they’re able to control their power. They used the spell meant to spare Celia to their advantage.”
Mom looks at me then, her eyes spilling with tears when she catches how close I’m clutching Celia. “Do you understand, Aric? The dark witches can’t hunt Celia from the future, but they don’t have to. They merely had to latch onto the spell the light witch cast and compel the dark powers it awakened to kill Celia for them.”
My gut twists so badly it’s hard to remain standing. It all makes sense. But it’s not over.
Celia isn’t crying. Not yet. But she’s close. “What happened to the light witch who tried to help me?”
Dad shakes his head. “An untrained witch matched against three who were? Nothing good,” he answers.
“As I told you, little tigress,” Mimi murmurs. “She can’t help you now.”
I’m ready to tear this room apart. “Can you help Celia?” I ask. “Please, Mimi. You said it yourself, she has to survive.”
Mimi’s mouth falls open and several gasps of air follow. She’s done for. I’m sure of it. It’s just a matter of time.
Mom pours more tea into Mimi’s mouth. Most of it pools, the rest spilling over the sides. I expect Mimi to choke on what remains, but it just sits there. Mom whispers in Mimi’s ear, her voice barely a touch of sound, unlike the magic that Mom’s beast stirs inside of her.
“Great and powerful Mimi, for the sake of our son and his mate, give us direction. Tell us what to do.”
Mimi’s head slumps to the side, the residual tea pouring from her mouth and onto the couch. I think she’s dead, but then she smiles, and I just about lose my mind.
“I can’t cast a spell to change time or conjure one to take place in the future,” Mimi mumbles. “But I can alter a spell that continues to brew.”
“To do what exactly?” I growl.
“To send Celia back,” Mimi slurs.
The wind pummels the side of the house as I all but snap my teeth at her. “No.”
“Aric,” Mom says. “We have to listen to what Mimi has to say.”
I step in front of Celia, my voice catching when her arms band around my waist and her body presses against my back. Her shoulders shake as she sobs, causing my eyes to burn.
Why is this happening? Why are they doing this to us?
“Mimi can’t take Celia away from me. There has to be another way.”
Mimi’s eyes narrow, her patience growing thin. Despite her weakening state, her voice turns firm. “If you want your mate to live—if you want her to accomplish everything the Power of Good expects of her, she must go back. There’s no other way, young wolf.”
“She’s my mate,” I say. “I can’t lose her like this!”
“Aric,” Dad begins.
“No,” I interrupt. “You said it yourself, Dad. Mates don’t do well being apart. Celia and I couldn’t sleep a few feet away without finding a way to be next to each other. And now, you’re not just talking about sending her to another state, you’re talking about banishing her to the future, somewhere I may never find her again.”
Something collides with the roof, rattling the house and creating a crack in the ceiling. It splinters down, all the way to floor, the motion so forceful the house shifts.
Dad gathers my mother against him, his cold stare briefly darting my way. “Make him forget about her,” he orders Mimi. “Make them both forget.”
“I don’t want to forget!” I holler.
“I can’t forget Aric,” Celia says, her voice quivering with sadness. “It isn’t possible.”
“If it means your sanity, your heart, and your future, you both can and will.” Dad rises. “Do you think I want to ask this of you? I know what it means to have a mate—”
“Then you know you’re asking the unbearable,” I say, cutting him off.
Dad takes a breath, relaxing his shoulders, unlike mine which carry all the rage I feel. “This isn’t just about you and Celia, Aric. Did you not hear Mimi’s words? This spell, however good its intention, has disrupted life as we know it. For Celia to survive and take her place along those who protect the earth, she has to go back.”
Something else strikes the roof. It’s not as loud or as strong, but it doesn’t have to be. The damage is already done.
“You’re asking Mimi to send Celia back to the same witches trying to kill her,” I yell. “How is she supposed to help the world if she’s already dead?”
“That’s not what I’m asking Mimi to do,” Dad says. “Celia was in an alley, in a city, correct?”
I don’t want to answer, but I nod anyway.
He returns his full attention to Mimi. “Change the spell so that instead of sending her here, it sends Celia and her prey to a different part of the city.”
“So, the light witch’s spell never gets the chance to alter time,” Mimi deduces. She cackles. It’s faint, but there. “You ask a great deal, my Alpha. Especially from an old hag whose time has come.”
“Can you do it?” Dad asks, his attention frantically scanning her frail state.
“I can,” Mimi says.
“No, no.” I turn around, digging my fingers through my hair only for my gaze to fasten on Celia. My hands fall to my sides when I see her red swollen eyes.
“Baby,” I say, wrapping my arms around her. A knot forms in my throat, making it hard to speak. “We were supposed to be happy. You were supposed to live here with me. You, your family. You were never supposed to leave me.”
“I don’t want to leave you,” Celia says, choking back a sob. “But you need to live, and you need to find me. Do you hear me? You and your wolf have to find a way back to me and my tigress.”
“No,” I insist. “I can’t risk letting you go. What if I can’t find you? What if you find someone else?”
“I won’t,” Celia says, crying so hard she can barely speak. “You’ll always be the one.”
Agony overtakes me, splitting my heart. I clutch her against me. Never have I felt so much pain.
“It’s not so easy,” Mimi mumbles as if my insides aren’t being ripped from me. “Magic comes at a price. Neither good nor evil can prevail without payment.”
Dad rises, his expression as dark as his voice. “And what is the price we must pay?”
Mimi lifts a weary finger in my direction. “A love like this can’t merely be forgotten. The sacrifice of one must be replaced by another.”
Dad doesn’t hesitate. “I’ll carry the burden of the memory,” he says. “And sacrifice what’s needed.”
“Aidan,” Mom cries.
“Wait, Dad—what are you doing?”
“I can handle the extent of your memories, feelings, all of it,” Dad interrupts. “And whatever else is needed for Celia’s safe return.”
“Let me at least take part—”
“No,” Dad says, interrupting Mom. “That’s not an option. Your soul is tender, and this requires more steel than you can offer.” He turns
to Mimi. “Tell me what needs to be done.”
“I don’t want you to do this,” Mom growls, rising.
Dad’s voice remains gentle. “There’s no choice. We’re obliged to protect the world and if Celia has somehow been chosen to save it, we’re obliged to save her. Not just for our son. But for all who inhabit it.”
“Aidan,” Mom says, crying into her hands.
Dad kisses her forehead. “It must be done, my love.”
A howl erupts in the distant. We whip toward the barricaded door. “It’s Liam,” I say, knowing he’s in trouble.
Mimi gags on her cackles. “They’re coming for you, little tigress.”
Dad drops to her side. “Mimi, tell me what to do.”
“Tell me!” he yells when she falls unconscious.
Something strikes the door and dark red blood spills in from the outside. I charge to the metal door, throwing it open.
Koda’s body falls at my feet, gripping the nape of Gemini’s twin wolf. Neither are breathing. Koda is missing most of his right leg and pink fluid oozes from his mouth. The twin wolf’s spine pokes out from his back and his blank stare faces the ceiling.
“No!”
Celia and I drag them inside. She feels for a pulse at Koda’s neck and then Gemini’s twin. It’s too late. Their souls are already gone.
Liam howls again. “Help me!” he yells. “Help me.”
Mom changes, her clothes tearing from her body as her honey and cinnamon colored wolf emerges. She leaps over the dead bodies of my friends and over the railing, her snarls resonating as she slams into something at the bottom.
Through the howling wind, the stench of decay rises, singeing my nose. Another skinwalker has appeared and Mom is fighting it alone.
“Dad—”
My voice lodges in my throat as my father takes a large knife and stabs it through Mimi’s chest. Mimi arches her back, cackling as Dad steps away. He marches toward us, careful not to spill the blood smearing the blade.
“Take this,” he says to Celia. “Don’t wipe it. Don’t do anything. Step into the circle of ash, cut your palm with the tip, and Mimi’s magic will do the rest.”
With shaking hands, Celia takes the knife.
Dad places his hands on Celia’s shoulders and presses a kiss to her forehead. “You won’t be forgotten, sweet one. I swear it.”
His head snaps up when he hears Mom yelp. In one motion, my father changes into his dark menacing wolf, leaping from the terrace and joining my mother. I sprint toward the railing, the wind so strong and littered with debris, I can barely see below.
What I do see is more than enough.
Liam’s naked body lies unmoving below, his decapitated head several feet away from him. What remains of my friend is disintegrating from the skinwalker’s poison. Like the other skinwalker, this one is more a decomposing corpse than anything living.
His face is that of a man combined with a horse, long with glowing humanoid eyes and a protruding lower jaw. Snakes replace his limbs and a forked tongue slithers out as he hisses. Mom and Dad circle him, leaping away from the poison on his limbs and desperate for a chance to bring him down.
I swing my foot over the rail, ready to pounce, but then a wave of magic kicks my leg out from under me. I leap into a crouch, recognizing the magic is Mimi’s and that it’s coming from the house.
Dad snaps his jaws, urging me inside. I back away, conflicted, only for another wave of magic to strike.
I bolt back into our large, open family room. Celia stands inside the circle of ash, staring at the gash in her palm. She looks up, dropping the knife Dad gave her when she sees me. It falls with clang against the floor.
“I have to go, Aric,” she says, tears soaking her eyes. “You need to live and so do those you cherish.”
“Mimi,” I rumble. “Don’t take her from me. There has to be another way!”
But Mimi is gone. There’s nothing left of her but the white nightgown she wore and the spilled contents of the healing tea seeping from the shattered cup on the floor.
Something hideous bashes against the roof as Mom and Dad race back inside, their wolf forms panting hard from the fight . . . and from the poison eating through their flesh.
The skinwalker throws himself against the protection spells surrounding the house, screeching in a way that jolts the walls. Dad manages to roll the metal shutter down with his fangs.
Neither the door nor the spells will hold for long. I know it. Just as I know my parents don’t have long to live.
White light soars from the circle, encasing Celia and bleaching her features. I throw myself against it, pounding on the ward created by the light.
“Celia!” I holler. “Celia!”
The strong arms of my father grab me, pulling me back. I lunge forward, breaking away from him and smashing through the ward. I snatch Celia’s hands as she begins to disappear, my rage-filled tears making it hard to see.
Evil wasn’t meant to awaken like this.
Death was not supposed to claim my friends and family.
It was the worst time to fall in love. But I did.
And it was worth every fucking moment.
But now, to save us all, I have to let the one being who shares my soul go.
No matter how much it destroys me.
“I’ll find you,” I tell Celia. “I swear, my wolf will stay with you and we will find a way.”
I haul her to me, kissing her one last time before she fades away and all that’s left is darkness.
Chapter Nineteen
I hop downstairs. I don’t mean I take the steps one by one, or even three at a time. I mean hop over the railing and leap from the second floor to the first, landing almost silently in a crouch, the backpack on my shoulders barely brushing against my spine.
“Aric,” Mom calls, turning away from the stove. “You’re a were, not an animal. Take the stairs as you’re supposed to.”
“Sorry, Mom.” I look around, noting breakfast is almost ready. “Where’s Dad?”
“He said he had something to do outside.” Mom brings a few dishes over. “Don’t even think about it,” she says when she sees me eyeing the bacon.
Dad chuckles as he walks into the house, pocketing the Swiss Army knife he’s carrying into his jeans. He reaches for Mom, holding her close, but his attention is on me. “How’d you sleep?”
“Pretty good,” I say. I wait just long enough for Dad to sit before attacking the bacon.
“Good,” he says.
My knife slices into the butter when Mom drops several pancakes on my plate. The scent of cheese, carefully diced onions, and minced garlic seeps into my nose in a mouth-watering sweep when she returns with the eggs. The moment the first scoop lands on my plate, I dig in.
Dad hoists Mom onto his lap. “Eat with me,” he tells her. “You’re doing too much.”
Mom kisses his cheek and places the pan on the table, but instead of letting Dad feed her, she wraps her arms around his neck. Her shoulder length white hair brushes against his chest and her eyes close with longing.
“You’re hunting again, aren’t you?” I ask.
Dad smiles softly at Mom when she cuddles closer, stroking her hair until she opens her eyes. She doesn’t return his smile. It bothers me to see her so upset. “What’s going on?” I ask.
“There’s a dark witch causing trouble in Lesotho,” Dad replies, continuing his slow caress of Mom’s hair.
I reach for more bacon and eggs. “Where’s that?”
“Africa,” Mom replies. “It’s a territory known for diamond smuggling and dark magic.”
“Cue the witch,” I guess. I shove a forkful of eggs down my throat and stab a few more pieces of bacon. “How’d you get wind of her?” I ask.
“She’s protecting the diamond smugglers,” Dad explains.
“Can I go with you?” I ask.
“No,” Dad answers, something odd in his tone. “I n
eed you here to look after your mother. I leave this afternoon, but I hope to return by the end of the week if all goes well.”
“Oh.” I play around with what little food remains on my plate. “Are you sure I can’t go?”
“I’m sure,” Dad says, his features wrought with sadness. “Your mother is worried enough, especially with all those females seeking your company.”
I roll my eyes. The females I know are annoying at best, looking to get with me for all the wrong reasons. “I don’t even like them.”
Dad watches me as I rise to dump my plate in the sink.
“Where are you off to?” Dad asks.
“I’m going hunting,” I reply. “Liam swears he scented elk near Mount Elbert.”
Dad places Mom carefully on the floor as he rises. I brush my wet hands against my jeans, hugging him tight. “Good luck, Dad,” I tell him.
“You too, Aric.”
He releases me as the familiar voices of my friends sound from the front of the house. Excitement builds through me. It’s going to be a great day.
“Gotta go,” I say. I clap my dad’s shoulder affectionately. “I’ll see you at the end of the week.”
Dad nods, gathering my mother against him when she wraps her arms around his waist.
“Son?”
Something in my father’s voice keeps me in place. “Yeah, Dad?”
He sighs. “You’re going to go through a lot of females. Promise me you won’t settle down until you find your mate.”
I smirk. “Dad, come on. We don’t even know if I have one.”
“You do and she’s out there,” he says, his voice quieting. “Just please, Aric, make me this promise.”
I want to laugh off his comment, but I can’t. Not with how sad he seems. “Okay, Dad. I promise.”
“Thank you,” he says.
I kiss Mom on the cheek and jog out the door.
If I knew that this was the last time I’d see my father alive, I would have found something better to say.
Like maybe thank you for being my father.
Dad was always one to sacrifice for the greater good. I’d never learn that this time, the greater good was me.
My friends and I race through the wooded property and toward the rear gate, shoving each other and laughing, betting who will bag the best meal.