by Dana Cameron
That didn’t mean the pain had lessened. Now it was so bad that Jack didn’t dare move for fear he would shatter. A thousand images, very few of which he recognized, filled his mind’s eye, just as it had when Martha had given him the vision of a possible future.
He wept when he saw Emily as she had been just the week before, and knew at that instant, beyond the pain and the strangeness of his experiences, that she was pregnant. He tried to scream when he saw the image, years in the future, of a wasted and aged Emily in a hospital bed, a young woman holding her hand and then leaving the room. Emily dying alone with a different name on her medical chart.
“Emily!” came a breathy whisper from between his cracked lips. Another name sprang into his head: Zoe.
Was it Emily’s real name? No. He knew as soon as the young woman returned to the room—green eyes, dark hair cut poorly and colored improbably, a turn of the mouth—that she was Zoe, and Zoe was his daughter.
Something in his head said, “Not this one,” and suddenly, he was free. Hands, still attached, fingers wiggling and unsinged. The sword seemed untouched, the visions—pain-inspired or otherwise, having the ring of truth—fled.
Emily was pregnant, and she’d run away.
Finally, he replaced the sword in the case and brushed away a tear. He turned to Sully, who was anxiously waiting to hear what he’d seen.
Jack took a deep breath. “Can I make you some tea? I certainly need a cup.”
“Jack—” Sully said.
“It won’t take me a minute,” he said as he fled into his tiny kitchen, thinking furiously.
To hell with the Family’s rules, he thought. I’ll break every last one of them if it means keeping her secret. Keeping them safe. I’ll go after her, and I’ll—
He couldn’t go after her, Jack realized, setting the kettle down on the stove more heavily than he intended. She’d asked him not to, and, as for telling her what she was, he’d promised Martha Hudson that he would not. Even Jack knew not to break a promise to such a powerful oracle. He also knew he might harm Emily in some way by revealing the truth.
Then I’ll break with the Family, follow her from a distance, protect her without her knowing I’m there, he thought resolutely.
And instantly, he knew that, too, would only make things worse, drawing attention to himself and Emily. This time, there’d be no escaping the shedding for him, and Emily would be exposed to the Family when the oracle had said they must not know of her.
There was only one choice: Act as if he had never met her, had never heard of her. Go about his day job and his Fangborn work so carefully that no one would give him a second glance. He would follow every rule, precisely, to avoid drawing notice to himself or Emily. Sully would keep his secret because there was no longer a girlfriend to report. He might still be able to keep an eye out for Emily and their daughter, but it would never be as much as he wanted to do. As much as he knew he could do. But it was what was best for her.
I can’t believe I’m going to let her go. The idea of another new alias for him, always watching and protecting them from a distance when he could, but never getting to see or touch Emily again, was too much. As he reached for the tea, the tears came, burning almost as much as the sword had.
Acknowledgments
As always, I owe a huge debt to my beta readers, Charlaine Harris and Toni L. P. Kelner (aka Leigh Perry), James Goodwin, and Josh Getzler. Josh is my literary agent, and he and the professionals at HSG Agency (including Carrie Hannigan, Jesseca Salky, and Danielle Burby) are terrific guides through the business of publishing. Melissa Marr did me a solid by sharing her writing playlists; some of that music helped shaped this story.
A very big thank-you to Jason Kirk (editorial lead), Ben Smith (senior marketing manager), Britt Rogers (author relations manager), and everyone at 47North. My developmental editor, Clarence A. Haynes, has worked tirelessly and with great insight on my 47North Fangborn projects.
This is dedicated to my readers, who are completely awesome.
About the Author
Award-winning author Dana Cameron lives in eastern Massachusetts with her husband and two cats. Cameron was short-listed for the Edgar Award in 2010 for “Femme Sole” and has earned multiple Agatha, Anthony, and Macavity Awards for her work, including several Fangborn short stories. Her Fangborn novels, Seven Kinds of Hell and Pack of Strays, and short stories, “The Serpent’s Tale” and “The Curious Case of Miss Amelia Vernet,” were published by 47North. Trained as an archaeologist, Cameron holds a bachelor of arts from Boston University and a doctorate from the University of Pennsylvania. When she’s not writing fiction, Cameron enjoys exploring the past and the present through reading, travel, museums, popular culture, and food. More news about Dana Cameron and her writing can be found on her author website and blog at danacameron.com.
