Fitz is dead. Going to Anie, I’ll let you know.
I’ll be there as soon as I can.
I lifted the sleeve of my shirt to see the An of Anie’s place on my compass shimmering a little dimmer than the others, but at least she was still there, unlike Fitz. She was alive but drained. I felt the path open from me to her and yelled over my shoulder at Az.
“I’m going to be with Anie. I’ll be back when I can.”
I allowed the gentle air to carry me to her. I found myself at The Wet Mug. This was the place for everything, apparently. Not where I was expecting her to be.
She sat at the bar, alone. I walked slowly up behind her so as not to startle her.
“Anie?”
She didn’t move a muscle. I sat on the stool next to hers. Her hair was matted to her face; I pulled it to the side so I could see her. She was catatonic, pale and still as a statue.
“I found her sitting on the street outside when I closed up. She hasn’t said anything. Didn’t know what to do but bring her in here.” Donovan was standing in the doorway between the bar and the back. “Is she going to be okay?”
“I don’t know.”
“He’s dead. He’s dead. That son of a bitch!” Anie broke on a sob and an angry slap of her hand on the bar.
“Did he tell you where he was going?”
Anie turned to me with a dullness covering her normally bright eyes.
“He went to challenge his father for leader of the pack.”
“He should’ve challenged me then.”
“Who’s to say he wasn’t considering it before you went into your dark-magic-coma? I don’t have answers and he’s gone now, so…” Tears slid from her eyes and I saw my best friend break in front of me.
I pulled her to me and let her cry and scream into me, beat on my chest, whatever she needed to do and did. She sounded like a dying animal. I moved with her to the floor. We were too unstable to be up on the high bar stools. I was afraid she might hurt herself or me.
I don’t know how long we sat there or how long she cried, but the sun was well up over the horizon when she tired herself down enough to fall asleep on my legs as I ran my hands over her hair. My eyes were red from crying because I felt the pain of my best friend’s loss, and mine as well.
Michael had stayed with us the entire time. I didn’t know if he was concerned for my friend, me or his bar. No matter the reason, he had stayed and that spoke to a thankful part of me.
I didn’t know if Anie would ever recover from the loss of her Mate. Stupid hot head Fitzroy, had to go and get himself killed.
He had always been a hot head. Obviously I knew that from when he’d thrown his support behind me instead of behind his estranged father. Even though I knew all these things it didn’t make me any less angry and hurt that he’d gotten himself killed because he didn’t wait to see if I came out of my coma.
Then again, maybe the entire endgame was for him to challenge his father. He’d always gone up against his father but never directly. Maybe he just wanted to have it out with him once and for all. That’s exactly what he’d gotten in the end and I hoped it was worth it for him.
I hadn’t noticed Michael had left, but he was standing over us with two pillows. He put them side by side on the ground, then moved Anie gently over to one of the pillows.
“You can stay as long as you need to. Both of you.”
“Thank you for staying, Michael.”
“I’m not leaving. I’ll be behind in my apartment sleeping, it’s above the pub.”
I laid my head down next to Anie, studying her emotion battered face.
“Can you call Az for me?”
“Already did last night. Texted and told him where you were. He said to call if you needed him.”
“How could he have done this to her?” I asked myself.
Michael’s voice came from behind the bar.
“What happened?”
“Her Mate, Fitzroy. He didn’t think I was going to come out of my coma and went to challenge his father – he was killed. I should’ve gone and got him, pushed harder, but I was too weak.”
“Were Shifter?”
“Yeah.”
“They act before they think, the lot of them. Had to have pretty big beef with his Da, eh?”
“How’d you know?”
“To leave a woman as beautiful and strong as her, you’d have to be an idiot or have beef.”
“You just met her, how do you know she’s strong?”
I knew she was beautiful, but I couldn’t figure how he knew she had endless strength.
“I’ve known others who’ve Mates have died. Half killed themselves outright. Others put themselves in bad enough situations they knew they wouldn’t come out alive. She is a mess right now, but she’s strong.”
“She is.” I needed to get Anie to a safer place than the middle of a bar floor. I appreciated Michael bringing the pillows to us, but there was no way I could sleep like that. “I was going to stay, but I don’t think either of us will rest well on the bar floor. Can you help me take her to my Granddad’s?”
“I can. Or you can rest in my bed.”
“A dream comes true for you?” It was an inappropriate time to make a joke like that, but I was still working on acting appropriately in serious situations.
“Ha, ha, more like it’s closer and you’ll be able to get rest easier. I’ll just sleep on the couch.”
“Thank you.”
Michael moved Anie, with care, into his arms.
“Follow me.”
I walked behind him. Again thanking whoever was watching over Anie for putting her in Michael’s path. Anything could’ve happened to her out on the street at night. She was a Hunter and Drover, but that didn’t mean she was indestructible, especially when she was as wrecked as she was right then.
Michael led me behind the bar, where the kitchen was. To the left there was a set of old wooden stairs leading up, a door that looked like it belonged to the outside of a house was at the top. When we reached the top, he opened the door and went straight in.
I stopped for a moment to appreciate his flat. It was sparsely decorated and tidy. His living room didn’t have a T.V., which was a trend in the village I was still getting used to. Neither the tavern nor my Granddad’s home had a television, either. I guessed there were plenty of other things going on to keep their attention.
Michael walked to the back of the apartment where a door led into the bedroom. The room was taken up mostly by his bed. It was king sized with a solid blue comforter and grey pillows. It was nothing too exciting, but matched the rest of the décor.
I pulled the comforter back and he laid Anie down, covering her up.
“I appreciate all you’ve done.”
“If you need anything just shout.”
I wondered for a moment if he would really come if I shouted, because when Anie woke up I was sure there would be more unsettledness. It hadn’t been pleasant the first time, and I was sure the second time would be just as bad.
Michael left. I closed the curtain to the window at the head of the bed, and then laid down with Anie, putting her hand in mine. I closed my eyes. I wanted to purge the look I’d seen on Anie’s face the night before, but I didn’t think I had the power to do that. I hoped Anie found solace in her sleep or just a little quiet.
I lived in my dreams that night. I saw the death of Fitz play out there and felt the pain and guilt of not being able to save him wash over and drown me.
~XV~
“Dear doubt, you wore out a path to my door, And it’s needless to say that there’s no way that I want you here. Dear doubt, please just go. You’ve been chasing me too long, so please just go.”
-Michael Schulte, Dear Doubt
“Every connection I’ve ever had has come with consequences.”
It was Anie’s voice but it sounded smokier than usual. I opened my eyes to orange and yellow creeping in around the closed curtain. I could tell the sun was setting.
Anie had woke me up with her pain and I wouldn’t have it any other way. She wasn’t screaming at least, but she was staring in a vacant-like state at the ceiling of Michael’s bedroom.
“Not with me,” I said groggily, from under the covers of Michael’s bed.
“With you, maybe the biggest. I never would’ve met Fitzroy had we not been friends. Had I turned down your offer to be part of your group, I never would’ve known him.”
I knew she was speaking honestly from a fathomless dark chasm of pain.
“I should’ve gone after Fitzroy. I’m sorry.”
“I thought you should’ve at first, too, but I realize now that Fitzroy should’ve loved me enough not to leave. I’m angry at him. I’m angry at the world…mostly, though, I’m angry at myself.”
I was glad she was talking, but her words echoed hollow. Absent was the anger she spoke of.
“He was just trying to build a life outside of this one. If he had a pack, you two would always have a place.”
“Or be fighting for one.”
She was right. But even if she was right, I wasn’t about to tell her that.
“Why are you mad at yourself?”
“I should’ve gone with him. But I was too worried about you. Then again, maybe Fitz should’ve stayed to comfort me instead of forging a war against his father alone.”
She had the same case of what ifs, only a hundred times worse, as I had when Alewar died. While I understood her pain, I didn’t think comforting her was the right thing to do at that moment.
“What do you need me to do?”
“Change the world. I can hear the meeting downstairs, you should probably go down.”
“I’m not going if you need me. I’ll stay.”
“You’re better than that. As much as I need you, Mastema needs a slap in the face more.”
“Are you going to be able to stand with me when I go against him?” I asked, but already knew the answer.
“No. I want to be there for you, I would give you everything I have, but if I stood there and I was forced to watch you die too…I may as well die with you.”
Her spoken words were my silent fears. I was glad she was being honest, but I felt that pang of fear that I couldn’t look too closely at, not if I wanted to succeed against Mastema.
“I’ll go downstairs. I’ll do my duty for the Greater Good. But I’ll be back up afterwards.”
“Okay.”
“Any ideas who should take your place?”
“No.”
She was scaring me. She had none of the Anie-fire I’d come to know and love. I stood up and stretched my back. I felt exhausted. Even though I’d slept it had been fitful. I could also feel the exhaustion the meeting downstairs would, no doubt, bring.
As I left Michael’s bedroom, I closed the door behind me. Part of me saying I did it so Anie wouldn’t have to hear the arguments from below; the other louder part of me knowing I closed it because I was afraid that when I came back she’d be gone. The door clicked shut and I tried to keep the fear I felt for Anie locked tightly away.
When I reached the steps down, I found Cade sitting at the bottom, resting his head on the wall next to him. When he heard me coming, he stood and turned to face me.
I put my hand on his shoulder.
“I wanted to come up, but Michael said that you were both resting.” The silent questions were pouring from him: Is Anie okay? Is Fitz really gone? What are we going to do?
“Can you go sit with her?” Answering all the questions he had silently asked me.
I was being selfish and selfless in that moment. I needed to have as much backing in the meeting as I could, but I also wanted someone to stay with Anie in case she needed something. I put the ball in Cade’s court and let him choose.
“Of course.”
I knew before I’d asked what he’d choose, and I was happy he’d made that choice. Cade made his way up the stairs.
I heard a question through the swinging door that led to the main area of the pub. It was yelled over the murmur of quieter conversations.
“How do we know she is the one the Prophecy has spoken of? We’ve never seen her until now. Who’s to say she can do anything?”
“Are you questioning me?” It was my Granddad’s voice holding menace.
“Not questioning you, Fergus. Just questioning if you know what she’s capable of. We heard what happened with her and the dark magic.”
I decided it was time to speak up. I opened the swinging door to a room heavy with magic and skepticism. There were people at every table, as well as others standing against the walls. It was musty with too many people pressed together.
Michael noticed me enter and nodded his head to me. His motion didn’t go unnoticed. The room’s eyes fell on me, including my Granddad’s. I frowned, looking for my rock, but he found me first. Az put his hand on my back and nudged me forward. I didn’t turn to him, I kept focused on the room around me.
“I can’t tell you if I’m the Prophecy come to life. I don’t know. But I know what I can do, I do have power.”
“We all do. What makes you special?”
I recognized the voice as that of the man who’d challenged my Granddad. I made my way over to where he sat, the others sitting with him backed away. It was a good move, since I had no idea what sort of magic this particular mix of supernatural wielded.
As I got closer to him I could see he was a beefy man, but had soft facial features. He had dark black hair on almost every part of body I could see and grey eyes that sat in stark contrast to the rest of him. He was a strange mix of man and beauty.
“Who are you?” I asked him when I finally stood firmly in front of him.
“Keenan. Roma Keenan.”
“Well, Keenan. I’m,” I turned in a circle around the room, making eye contact with anyone looking at me. “Delaney Hinders.”
I knew by the reaction my name was known but not my face. Every eye was round, every mouth moving to the closest ear to them.
“I know you’ve all heard the Prophecy. The one who could rule them all.” I paused. It had been the first time I’d spoken the meat of the Prophecy aloud. “And Keenan is right, I did fall for the dark magic of Mastema’s book.”
My eyes went directly to my Granddad’s. There was a proud twinkle to them that sent my own pride to the front.
“I have mixed blood from every lineage, including Hunter. I was the one no one saw coming. No one except my Mother.”
I dropped my eyes to the uneven wooden floor in front of me. I had never gotten much of a chance to know my Mother, so speaking of her in front of strangers who, some at least, had known her, was difficult. I felt a hand on my shoulder. I met Serafine’s eyes as she stood behind me, giving me quiet support. She squeezed my shoulder and walked to stand behind the bar with Michael.
I didn’t know if her support would help or hurt me in the room I stood. I didn’t know how many knew about her Mating with Mastema or if they felt as hateful about Angels as Michael, her own flesh and blood, did.
I knew what I was going to do when I’d walked up to Roma Kennan. I had to show, not tell. They would need to see for themselves what I could do.
“Everyone please step back.” Keenan got up to move back but I put my hand up. “Not you Keenan.” When the group didn’t immediately move, my Granddad stepped up to us.
“Do as she says.” I could tell by the look on Roma Keenan’s face that he didn’t want to listen, but did anyway. Most likely because my Granddad, whether formal or not, sat in a position of power.
Keenan sat down slowly. When I was satisfied with the room I’d been given, I turned back around to the grumpy looking man in front of me. I focused on the man who had challenged my Granddad’s authority. He had an air of shifter and I could feel it at the front. He wanted to shift. If there hadn’t been so many surrounding us in the small tavern, I might have encouraged him to.
I tentatively thought of how I’d felt when Mastema had tak
en Alewar from me. I didn’t want to enrage myself and lose control.
As my anger took hold, I felt a spice in Keenan’s magic. I had only tasted this magic one other place, and that was the night the witches had purged me of the dark magic. Shifter and Witch. I pulled from my anger and let the magic take hold.
My body popped and snapped, but there was no pain. I just knew that I was shifting into something else. I thought of the joke I had made about Michael being a kitten, and felt myself get smaller. I was close to the ground, everything was void of color. My vibrant world was black and white and I could smell the tavern’s floor remnants: beer, old food and feet.
I opened my mouth to make a comment to Keenan and a squeaked meow came out. Keenan’s eyes were saucers. I wondered if he could shift into different forms, so I tried it out.
I pictured a polar bear with dirty white fur and a big black nose. The change happened almost instantly. I was about eye level with everyone now. I could see color again and Keenan’s face was bright red. He looked a bit angry so I roared in his face. He backed up, losing his red color.
I let go of the shifter magic and hung on tightly to the zesty Witch magic, slowly coming back to myself. I tapped into the lessons my Granddad had given me on my Witch roots and how to control it and mold it the way I needed it to. Control of Witch magic was a lot like being a grateful child to Mother Earth. Witch magic was more basic than that of other supernaturals.
I asked the magic to allow me to move water between my hands. I watched as water formed in my palms and I threw it between my open palms, like a tiny wave in a bottle. It was amazing. I was so lost to the feeling that I missed the looks of awe and appreciation. As well as the look of outright indignation Keenan was giving me. I dropped the magic, as well as the water. I dried my hands on the two day old jeans I was wearing.
“You are the Prophecy.”
Keenan seemed resigned. I simply nodded. Nothing else needed to be said.
A woman, that had the same blue eyes and red hair as Serafine, stepped close to me, pushing my hair out of my face in a motherly way.
“Those who believe and want to help will. I know I will.” She looked over my shoulder at Serafine, wetness clinging tightly to her eyes. She hugged me, whispering in my ear, “Thank you for giving my family back to me.” She pulled back and I knew then that this had to be Serafine’s Mother.
Destiny: A Hunter's Novel, Book 3 Page 9