"I'm fine, Angela. Thank you. Faye was telling us you may be able to shed some light on Shay."
She sat down. "Ah, yes. Shay Hallan. Such a tragic family. His wife Elizabeth, bless her, was a Wiccan. She was a sole practitioner, mostly kept to herself. I think some generations back a Wiccan married into her very conservative and traditional family and wasn't well received, so they were largely non-practicing. She died suddenly in some sort of accident but left behind a teenage daughter, Emily. Emily inherited her mother's Wiccan nature but wasn't content not to practice. She reached out to Laurel, came to a few meetings. I got the impression her father didn't approve, and she took pains to hide it from him. She was a lovely girl—blond hair, blue eyes, and very sweet. I'm ashamed to say the Coven wasn't welcoming to outsiders at that time. Though she made some friends among the young people, she quickly retreated back to her own world."
She lapsed into silence, lost in the memory.
"What happened to her?" Cal asked. If Angela was right, this was Dylan's mother.
"It would have been quite the scandal around town if it had ever come out, but Shay Hallan kept to himself. She got pregnant, lord knows who by—the girl was so sheltered. Hid it from her father, and went into labor alone on the farm one day. Died along with the child. Such a tragedy."
"Did Shay and Elizabeth have other children?"
"No, Emily was their only child."
"How long ago was this?"
"About twenty years. Why the sudden interest?"
"Cal met Shay's grandson," Faye said helpfully.
"No," Angela said, shaking her head. "He can't have."
"His name is Dylan. He's around twenty, blond hair, blue eyes."
"And can see magic snares," Simon finished, "because he's Wiccan."
"So why did the snare burn him?"
"The answer to that might lie in the other half of his heritage. You have no idea who his father might have been?" Leona asked Angela.
The other woman shook her head slowly. "No, no one in the Coven knew she was expecting except Celeste, who she was close to. We only heard after the fact when Celeste went to check on her."
"Is Celeste here?" Maybe she could shed more light on what had happened.
"No, she moved away after that. I think she blamed the Coven for not taking Emily under our wing. We lost contact with her long ago."
"What if Dylan's father was a shifter?"
"Then Dylan would be too. Those genes are dominant."
"And with a Wiccan mother?"
"Those kind of connections rarely form. I don't know of any examples. We know the individual cases. A Wiccan marries a human, any children will inherit Wiccan magic. The same with shifters. But Wiccan and shifter? Those magics don't mix. I suspect any child that resulted from such a relationship could never be born, the conflict would be too great.
"But Fionn is managing it."
"Fionn is a special case."
"Couldn't this be a special case too?"
"But you said it yourself, Dylan isn't a shifter."
"Nor is he Wiccan. There's no sense of Wiccan magic from him."
"Perhaps the two have canceled each other out?" Faye suggested.
"No," Leona said. "He's shown he's capable of both being affected by magic aimed at shifters and being able to see magic only visible to Wiccan's. He shouldn't be able to do either."
She turned to Cal. "The truth is, we just don't know. But perhaps there is someone who does."
"His grandfather."
"If you truly want answers, I suggest you start there."
Dylan ran to his room and closed the door, waiting to see if Cal was going to follow him. This was what his grandfather had warned him about, but he hadn't recognized it until Cal had turned into a bear in front of him, and Shay's words came back to him, as if he had been standing next to him, speaking into his ear.
He remembered all the stories from when he was a child. All the warnings. Yet, he'd been so naive as to walk into the woods with a total stranger and invite him to change into a monster in front of him.
He paced back and forth as he waited. He didn't feel right, his head full of thoughts, his body awash with energy. He'd been like that as a child, a bundle of energy, overactive, more than Shay could cope with. But he'd gotten a handle on it, locked it down, became the calm, obedient grandson he knew Shay wanted, until the last few weeks at least.
He heard the welcome sound of the car returning but waited until he heard the front door open and Shay's footsteps before he came down. Shay was in the kitchen, pouring water into the kettle when he arrived.
"Get the chores finished?" he asked.
"No."
Shay stopped what he was doing and turned to him.
"Something happened," he surmised. "Was it that man you met?"
Dylan nodded, ashamed to feel tears come to his eyes.
"You were right about him. He was nice and kind, but he wasn't what he seemed. He's… he changed…"
He took a deep breath, forcing himself to speak the words.
"He's a shapeshifter. He turned into a bear right in front of me."
He turned, pacing toward the wall and back.
"I feel… I feel like I'm going crazy. I can't sit still. He told me… he told me there was something between us, and I believed him, I felt it."
"You let him touch you."
He nodded, unable to meet his grandfather's eyes.
"Where is he now?"
"I don't know. I ran back here, he was standing outside the fence."
"You left the yard?"
"He… he asked me to." It was a weak excuse, and he knew it.
"Will he come back?"
"I don't know."
He paced toward the door, struggling to keep himself calm. A crash had both him and Shay spinning around. The mug Shay had taken from the cupboard lay on the floor in pieces. How had it fallen?
Shay was looking at him with barely concealed horror.
"Come with me." His words were quiet as were his footsteps as he crossed the kitchen to the back door.
"Now!" he barked sharply when Dylan hadn't moved.
Dylan trailed after him, feeling like he was walking to his execution. Was Shay going to kick him out, leave him to fend for himself? It was hard to blame him, he'd broken all the rules.
He barely noticed when they stopped in front of the entrance down to the storm cellar. Shay pulled a key from his pocket, undoing the padlock and removing the chain before pulling open the doors.
"Down you go," he said. Dylan climbed down ahead of him, his body numb.
He stopped when he reached the bottom of the steps, turning back to see Shay hadn't followed him down. The doors clanged shut above him, and he scrambled upward.
"Shay, no."
"It's for your own protection, Dylan. And mine."
He heard the chain being dragged across the doors and the click of the padlock. He pushed at the doors, but they didn't budge.
Shay's footsteps faded.
Dylan sat down in on the steps, resting his head in his hands. Everything had spiraled out of control, and now he was worse off than before.
There was light coming through a small window high up on the wall. It took a few minutes for his eyes to adjust. He hadn't been in the cellar for a very long time. He could remember it as a child, standing on the bottom step, looking up at his grandfather's face.
Pulling himself to his feet, he peered around, taking in the bed in the corner, the small table, and the shelf full of supplies. He pulled a chair back from the table, seeing a cloud of dust rise. He couldn't remember the storm that must have brought him down here, only that image of Shay staring down at him. And the door closing, leaving him in darkness. No, that wasn't right. If there'd been a storm, Shay would have been down there with him.
He tried to puzzle it out as he sat. He still felt on edge, full of energy, but there was nowhere for it to go, so he pushed it down deep inside him. His foot hit something under the table. He reached down
, and his fingers closed around something small and metal. He picked it up and set it down in front of him on the table. It was a toy car, with the number four painted in white on its roof. It seemed at once familiar and new. Why would there be toys down here?
As he sat at the table, the sun began to set, the light growing weaker until the room was in darkness. Shay wasn't coming back. Shuffling to his feet, he crossed the room and lay down on the bed. He didn't bother with a blanket, his body was warm, like an engine running hot. The lack of fresh air wasn't helping. There was no sleep to be had, as much as he wished for it.
Chapter Thirteen
Cal met a group from Rowan Pack as he made his way back to Dylan's house.
"What is it?" he asked, knowing only something serious would bring them out in force in the present circumstances.
"Jared went out to hunt this morning. He hasn't come back," Andy told him.
"Where was he going?"
The four looked at one another but didn't answer.
"Andy. Where?"
"Jared was one of the most outspoken at our meeting last night. Against Laurel. He believed they were responsible for the snares, and he wanted to prove it."
"Have you found his tracks?"
"His scent trail is going this way," Andy said, indicating a path parallel to the one Cal had just traveled.
"Fine, I'll come with you. I've just been in Laurel's Coven house. I assure you, they're not planning your destruction.
"I'll believe that when we find Jared," Anita said.
The trail diverged unexpectedly and they followed it north-west for a time, no longer heading directly toward the Coven. The trail turned again, and they found someone standing well ahead of them on the path. Even from that distance, Cal could smell the blood. The group hurried forward, their eyes watching their surroundings with caution. Cal recognized the person ahead of them. Laurence, one of Faye's cousins.
He turned as he heard them coming, his eyes widening as he saw the large group of shifters bearing down on him.
"Thank goodness you're here. I was just about to head to the Coven house and alert them."
As they reached him, Cal could see the now familiar wire of the snares, this time smeared with blood.
"Do you know who it was?" Laurence asked.
"Why don't you tell us?" Anita snarled.
"How would I know?" Laurence asked, taken aback by her tone. "I just found it."
The others spread out, checking the area while Cal and Andy stood with Laurence.
"I was just going to pick some wild mushrooms. I saw a bunch growing down the path a little ways. I was practically right on top of the snare before I noticed it. I guess I was distracted."
The others returned, shaking their heads.
"It's just like before, no tracks, no scent trail. Whoever took Jared, we can't track them," Anita spat out, glaring at Laurence.
"We need to head back and alert the Pack to what we've found," Andy said. He turned to Laurence. "Tell your people we won't let this lie. We want our Pack brother returned, safely, or there will be conflict between us."
As one, the group turned and left, Laurence staring after them open-mouthed. "But… but…" He turned to Cal. "It's not us. We'd never do this."
"I know. I think I'll need to speak to Leona again."
"She was called away just as I left the house. Gone to assist in a birth, I think. But Gavin has returned."
"Good, then I'll talk to him." Idly, Cal wondered if Leona had returned to Evenfall. He didn't think Fionn was ready to deliver quite so soon but was excited at the prospect of a nephew, even if it did send a pang of longing through him.
He found Gavin in his study, reading a heavy tome. He didn't look up at first, continuing to read until he'd reached the end of the page. Then he carefully marked his place, closed the book and stood to return it to its place on the shelf.
Cal was careful not to let his impatience show. Gavin was a difficult enough man to deal with at the best of times.
"Relations with Rowan have reached new heights of tension with another wolf missing. This time very close to your Coven house. It might be prudent for you to meet with the Pack, make an overture of peace and a commitment to work together to discover who is responsible for these attacks."
"I don't see why that would be necessary. We've already been assisting. Our people have been combing the woods for these snares. We've offered to accompany Rowan wolves through the forest. What more can we do? We aren't to blame, this isn't our responsibility."
"That isn't how Rowan sees things."
"Yes, well. What can you expect? They're impulsive, irrational creatures at the best of times. I won't pander to them."
"I'm not asking you to pander to them. I'm asking you to make an effort to stop this escalating into a conflict between you."
"Why should it? Any connection between us and what's happening is present only in the minds of those foolish wolves."
"But don't you see? Whoever is doing this is using magic, in close proximity to your Coven. You're being setup to take the fall for this. Rowan aren't going to see that unless you talk to them, make it clear that you are just as invested in stopping this and clearing your name as they are in ensuring their Pack members safety."
"You put too much responsibility on our shoulders. This is a shifter problem, not a Wiccan one. Wiccans don't trap animals, they don't kill them."
"Where shifters are concerned, magic is magic. You need to face up to your responsibility in all this before it comes knocking at your door."
"If Laurel makes a move against us, we will defend ourselves, but I'm not putting my people in the middle of this just because the wolves want someone to blame."
"Gavin, please."
"No, Callix. I've humored you for long enough. I respectfully request that you leave."
Knowing there would be no talking Gavin around, he stood and made his way to the door.
"Angela tells me you were asking about Emily Hallan. A bad business that. The Coven should have been more proactive with that girl, she was isolated, alone. My brother was in contention to lead the Coven at the time. He felt strongly that we shouldn't take in outsiders like her, only people from other Covens. He thought it would dilute the genes. All nonsense of course, but people do get these ideas in their heads. Such a shame about the girl though, by all accounts, she was very promising."
Gavin went to the shelf and pulled out another book, signaling the end of their conversation.
He left Laurel no closer to answers or solutions. Deciding another approach to Rowan to calm the tensions was unlikely to be productive, he tried to work out where to go to get the answers he was looking for. Creating a mental map in his mind, he placed the five snares on it and tried to work out if there was a pattern or something in common about where they'd been set. The only thing that stood out was their proximity to Dylan's house. It was the only human occupied building in the area. Maybe it meant something, maybe it didn't, but visiting Dylan and his grandfather was already on his to-do list for the day.
Chapter Fourteen
Thane was gone. Fionn wasn't sure where. All he knew was that he needed him, now. Stumbling from the house, the world seemed to spin around him, the cramping pain in his belly forcing him to lean against the door frame. He wasn't ready for this.
He followed Thane's scent through the trees toward the lake. Where was he?
Another contraction came, stronger this time. He cried out, grabbing the nearest tree for support. Waiting it out, he caught his breath and kept going.
The next cramp hit him only minutes later, this time bringing him to his knees. He couldn't do this alone.
"Thane!"
He hoped his Alpha was close enough to hear him. When he tried to stand again, the pain and dizziness were too much, and he sank to the ground.
"Fionn?" he heard Thane shout in the distance.
"Thane," he called, wrapping an arm around his stomach as another wave of pain wracked him.
He focused on his breathing, using it to help manage the contraction.
And then his mate was there.
"Fionn, what's wrong?"
"It's time."
"Are you sure?"
Another contraction hit, and he cried out.
"Stupid question," Thane muttered, kneeling next to him. "I'll carry you back to the house."
"No, no. I think it's too late."
"Fionn, I can have you inside in minutes. Just hold on and hold tight."
Thane's strong arms surrounded him and lifted him with ease. Fionn clung to him, burrowing his face against Thane's chest.
"You were gone."
"Just for a walk. I wasn't far."
"I couldn't find you."
"I'm right here."
"Can you hear the babies heartbeat?"
"Loud and clear, my love. We're almost home."
And then they were crossing the threshold, and Thane was carrying him up to their bedroom and helping him out of his clothes.
"Leona isn't going to make it here in time, Fionn. But we'll be okay, just you and me. Alright?"
"Alright, Thane."
Another contraction came, and he shifted to his knees, Thane's holding him with one arm while the other rubbed circles on his back.
"I don't know if I can do this," he said.
"Of course you can. We'll do it together."
"What if Leona is wrong? What if the baby isn't okay?"
"Hush. Don't worry about that now. Focus on your breathing and the urge to push. Your body knows what to do, all you have to do is listen."
Thane stayed by his side the whole time, coaxing him through each contraction as it came, rubbing his back to distract him and holding his hand.
Just when Fionn was at the end of his rope, almost too tired to keep going, it was Thane's words that spurred him on.
"I can see the head. Full of dark hair, just like yours. You're almost there, Fionn."
It gave him the strength for the last few pushes, his teeth gritted, his hands fisting the sheets, knuckles turning white. And then it was over, Thane lifting the tiny body onto his chest.
"It's a girl," his mate said, caught between confusion and wonder.
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