Tala Prophecy: The Complete Series

by Tia Silverthorne Bach

  The rest of the car ride was uneventful, full of small talk about the trip. Pulling up to their house, Reagan felt a sense of dread. Being at Nana’s was an escape. But Reagan was home, and now she’d have to face school; and Rafe.

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  No matter how much she wanted to, Reagan couldn’t avoid the ticking of the clock that brought her closer to the next day of school. She was looking forward to gym class because she needed to get some energy out. They were running the mile. She didn’t care what her time was, as long as she blew Abby away. It was the only class where Reagan had to deal with the sleazy cow. It usually took around eight and a half minutes for Reagan to clear a mile, but she was feeling energized and ready to go.

  They were going to start in groups of five with coaches and volunteer parents timing them. When Abby and Reagan were called to be in the same group, Reagan felt a rush of adrenaline. She pulled her leg behind her and started stretching, eager to get moving. The coach lined them up and yelled for the start. Reagan took off. As she ran, she sensed every muscle in her body.

  Rounding the first quarter mile, she closed her eyes for a second. She imagined the wolf, its strength. She opened her eyes and let the energy course through her. Next thing she knew she was crossing the line.

  “6:56,” the coach said.

  Or at least Reagan thought he did. She circled back around in time to see Abby coming toward the finish line. Victory had never tasted so sweet.

  Pumped with nowhere to go, Reagan walked around the field trying to expel some of the intense rush she was feeling. Turning to head into the girl’s locker room, she bumped into Abby; hard.

  “Watch where you’re going, bitch.” Abby gave Reagan a shove.

  Anger flashed. She shoved Abby back. “Don’t call me that again.”

  “What are you gonna do about it?”

  Reagan moved in closer and put her finger in Abby’s face. “You don’t want to know.”

  Coach Abbott came up to them. “That’s enough girls. Walk away.”

  Reagan turned to go when she heard Abby say under her breath to her friend, “She’s just pissed because she couldn’t hang onto someone like Dex. He said he could barely get through making out with her. That it made him feel sick.”

  Something snapped. Reagan didn’t remember turning back. It was like an out-of-body-experience. She saw her fist rise in the air and come smashing down on Abby’s face, but it didn’t feel like there was any control over it. Anger had been brewing for weeks. If somebody had to be the recipient of it, who better than Abby? Seeing her screaming and holding her face brought a moment of overwhelming pleasure, until Coach Abbott grabbed Reagan from behind and pulled her toward the school.

  Twenty minutes later, she was sitting on a bench in the office waiting for her mom to show up. Principal Reynolds said to sit still and went to get the counselor. Mrs. Lane came into the office and asked Reagan to step into the conference room.

  “This isn’t like you, Reagan. What happened?”

  Reagan didn’t want another person in her head trying to figure her out right now, but she didn’t have many options. “Abby was getting in my face.”

  Just then, Principal Reynolds walked in with Mom. “Please sit down, Mrs. Cooper,” he said.

  Mom walked over to Reagan, shot her a look mixed with concern and anger, and sat down.

  “Mrs. Cooper, I was just asking Reagan what happened. I’ve already spoken with Abby.” Mrs. Lane turned back to Reagan, and continued pushing. “Reagan, you broke Abby’s nose. We need to have some idea what happened out there.”

  “She called me a bitch,” Reagan said.

  “Was that all?” Mrs. Lane asked.

  Reagan knew her mom was going to hate every second of what was about to come out, but self-defense was necessary. “She was telling someone Dex said . . . Well, that I wasn’t very good at . . . making out.”

  Mom shook her head and looked down at the table. Reagan knew she’d embarrassed her mom in more ways than one, but needed her to jump to the defense of her daughter.

  Say something; anything.

  “Abby says you shoved her and when she tried to walk away is when you punched her.”

  “She would say that,” Reagan grumbled. They weren’t going to listen to her now, of that she was certain. “There’s no reason to tell you anything else, because you’re going to believe her.”

  “Ms. Cooper, I don’t have any choice but to suspend you for three days. It’s policy. I know you’ve been through a lot, and we’re all sorry about your brother, but I cannot and will not condone fighting in my school.”

  “We understand, Mr. Reynolds.”

  “Mrs. Cooper, it might be a good idea to have Reagan see someone, especially after everything,” Mrs. Lane said. “If you need any recommendations, let me know.”

  Reagan and her mom walked out of the school and got into the car. As soon as both doors were closed, Mom let loose. “What the hell were you thinking? Being suspended will go on your permanent record.”

  The reality of what was happening started to sink in. “I wasn’t thinking, Mom. It’s just that Abby shoved me and then said those awful things. I was mad.”

  “It’s one thing to be mad; it’s another thing entirely to break someone’s nose.”

  As upset as Mom was, Reagan didn’t look forward to her dad’s thoughts on what happened. When they walked into the house, Nana was sitting at the kitchen table with her coffee and a book.

  “What’s going on? Why’s Reagan home?” Nana asked.

  “Because she broke a girl’s nose at school today.”

  “What?” Nana stood and came over to inspect Reagan. “Are you okay?”

  “At least you asked,” Reagan said.

  “Here, sit. I’ll make you some tea,” Nana said, heading over to the stove as Reagan sat.

  “No you will not. Stop hovering over her like she did nothing wrong.” Mom stepped in front of Nana. “This doesn’t concern you.”

  “Mom, stop being so mean to her. She’s here because we need her, and all you do is ignore her or say mean things,” Reagan said, standing.

  “It’s okay, Reagan. I’ll just give you two a few minutes . . .”

  “No, it’s not okay!” Reagan walked over to her mom, “Nana has been helping me deal with the nightmares, the voices in my head, and all the other crazy crap I’m going through. You just send me to shrinks.”

  “This isn’t the time.” Mom’s voice dropped dangerously low.

  “When is the time? You don’t ever want to talk about the past, about what’s happening.”

  “Fine, tell me, Reagan. Tell me what is happening, because all I see is a girl out of control who needs some discipline.”

  “I was attacked by a wolf, a wolf who is now speaking to me in my dreams. He’s telling me I need to listen. Then I have Sam in my head. I have these feelings I can’t explain. Oh, and I’m some kind of witch by blood, something you never shared with me.”

  Reagan’s face jerked to the side with the impact of her mom’s slap. “You’re not a witch, Reagan. That’s just some of the crazy stuff Mom’s feeding you.” Mom turned to Nana and continued, “This is why I didn’t want you here. I didn’t want you filling her head with this stuff.”

  Reagan’s eyes filled with tears from the emotional pain of the slap. She screamed, “Mom, just because you want to deny who you are, doesn’t mean I do. I want to know about my gifts, the ones from Nana’s background and Papa’s!”

  “Oh my God, what have you been telling her?” Mom yelled in Nana’s face.

  “I’ve only told her the truth,” Nana said, maintaining the only calm voice in the room.

  “Truth. What do you know about truth? Did you tell her that you sent my father to be slaughtered? I’ve already lost my dad because of you. Now I’ve lost my son. I will not lose my daughter.” Mom slammed her fist on the table, accentuating the will and not.

  “Mom, why were you standing over me chanting that ni
ght?” Reagan asked, in a voice that was suddenly low and calm. Since all Hell was breaking loose, she might as well ask now.

  Eyes open wide and bottom jaw hanging, Mom was left speechless.

  Reagan noticed her mom’s right hand was trembling as she sat down in the chair, almost melting into it.

  “I saw you, Mom; in my dreams. I saw you standing over me and chanting something. What were you doing?”

  “I just wanted some of the pain to go away,” Mom said.

  Reagan didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t believe her mom admitted it. Nor could Reagan believe what she saw in her dream was real. Because, if she did, she’d be left with a terrifying reality to deal with: everything else from her dreams happened, too. She could handle believing her mom was trying to cast some kind of spell; but believing in talking wolves was a whole other matter.

  “Just be honest, Mom. Please? I need to know what happened that night. You aren’t telling me everything.”

  Mom looked miserable. Holding her head in her hand, she didn’t even look up before answering, “Yes, I was trying to cast a spell. One I remember you saying over me one time when I cut my hand on a knife, helping you cook.” Mom looked over to her mom.

  “I remember,” Nana said.

  “I just wanted Reagan’s pain to go away. She was in such agony, and there was blood everywhere,” Mom said. “But I couldn’t remember the words or what to do.”

  Nana stood up to put an arm around her daughter, who pulled away.

  “There’s still more you aren’t telling me, isn’t there?” Reagan tightened her jaw and felt every muscle in her body tense.

  “It was so dark. I saw an animal, one the size of a grizzly bear with the same dark brown fur, attack you. I screamed for your father. My yelling must have scared off the animal, because it ran away. I ran over to you and tried to help your pain.”

  “Could you have done something to my memory at the same time?” Reagan asked her mom, before turning to her Nana and adding, “Could she have?”

  “Yes, it’s possible. Maybe that’s why pieces of that evening are coming back to you in dreams. Your mind is trying to remember. You have powers you haven’t tapped into yet on a conscious level, but—”

  “Mom, this is exactly why I ran from you. I want Reagan to have a normal, happy life. One without powers and the responsibility that comes with them,” Mom said. The sound of the garage door put an end to their conversation.

  Dad was home.

  Entering the kitchen, his eyes darted between the three of them sitting at the kitchen table. He hesitated, probably unsure what he was stepping into. It was three generations of female angst.

  “Steve, sit down,” Mom said. “We need to talk.”

  Those were likely not the words he wanted to hear, but he took a seat anyway. “Okay, spill it.”

  Mom tilted her head and moved her arm toward Reagan, palm up. “Go ahead.”

  Reagan recounted what happened at school, but didn’t breathe a word of the conversation he’d interrupted. When she finished, she braced herself for the screaming.

  Her dad sat back in his chair and sighed. “Listen, Reagan, I don’t condone fighting, especially since you broke the girl’s nose, and I’m sure we’ll be hearing from her parents. But, I also think you have to stand up for yourself, especially after what she said.”

  Mom leaned over the table and reached for her husband. “You can’t tell me you’re okay with this!”

  “What did I just say? Of course I’m not okay with it. Reagan’s suspended. That’s not okay!” Turning to his daughter, he said, “And she’s grounded. I think she knows she can’t afford for something like this to happen again. Right, Reagan?”

  Reagan nodded. She didn’t want to ruin her chances at college, or give the shrinks that seemed to be circling her like hounds any more blood to sniff. “I’m sorry. Really.”

  Dad pushed his chair back, stood up, and headed into his office. Reagan heard the door shut.

  Unwilling to face any more drama today or risk talking to Nana and Mom with Dad so close, Reagan asked, “Can I be excused now?”

  “I think there are a lot of things we should still talk about,” Mom said. “But maybe it would be easier to talk at Dr. Ableman’s office on Wednesday; especially after what happened today.”

  The thought of Dr. Ableman picking apart the reasons for attacking Abby made Reagan sick to her stomach. She didn’t want to be a psychiatrist’s wet dream. Before she could stop herself, she said, “Last time he said Nana should come, too. I think that’s a good idea.”

  Mom and Nana looked equally shocked at Reagan’s suggestion. There were only two possible outcomes—it would either help them get closer or drive them further apart.

  More determined than ever to face her fears, Reagan decided to take one of her sleeping pills. Her dreams were the closest thing to an explanation she had about the night Sam died. Something was happening to her, and she wanted answers. The rush of power she felt when she punched Abby was enticing, but Reagan wished she had more control over her emotions.

  She put her necklace and candle in a drawer in the bathroom and got ready for bed. It was another hot night, so she opened her window to let in some cool air and made her way over to the bed and got in. Her phone beeped. She picked it up and saw Rafe’s message: HEARD ABOUT TODAY. WE REALLY NEED TO TALK.

  I’M GROUNDED, she texted back. She turned the volume off on her phone and put it into the drawer next to her bed.

  Sleep didn’t take long.

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  The darkness didn’t frighten her this time, it had become too familiar. She pushed open the tent flaps and walked out. Screaming was in the background, but this time she headed into the woods, away from the sound.

  “Coming to see me,” the wolf said as he stepped out of the shadows. “You’re getting stronger, Reagan.”

  He sounded amused. Reagan wasn’t. “I’m not here to entertain you. I want answers.”

  “You have the answers.”

  “I’m not here to play your games. Who are you? Did you come for me?” Reagan asked.

  Covering her in his hot breath, the wolf circled her. She flinched but held her ground. He couldn’t hurt her here. Plus, she had an overwhelming sense he didn’t want to hurt her. Never did.

  “Reagan.” The voice startled both of them. “Reagan,” the voice repeated.

  The wolf growled and threw Reagan to the ground, “How dare you bring him here!”

  Pain and darkness.

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  “Reagan.”

  Reagan struggled to open her eyes; the sleeping pill still had her in its clutches. His voice repeated her name and started to become familiar.

  “Rafe?” Reagan asked, groggy. Fighting through the fog, Reagan made her way over to the open window and looked down. Rafe was standing in her front yard.

  “What are you doing here?” Reagan turned to look at the alarm clock next to her bed. It glared 3:00 a.m. “My parents will kill you if they hear you.”

  “Please come down, we need to talk.”

  Reagan hesitated, but she was awake and didn’t feel comfortable taking any more pills. Tonight was shot, so she might as well talk to Rafe. Maybe he knew something that would help her. Why else would he be standing on her lawn in the middle of the night?

  “Okay, I’m coming down. Meet me by the side door, and I’ll come out and talk to you.” Reagan threw on a robe and made her way downstairs.

  She tiptoed through the kitchen and snuck outside. Rafe was just beyond the bushes. Reagan put a finger to her lips and motioned to the right before whispering, “Head that way. There’s a gazebo just around the corner.” She led him several feet away from the house, and they sat down on the wicker sofa in the gazebo.

  “My family and I know what happened to you in Yellowstone.”

  Reagan’s body tingled with alarm. She tried to push it down, but apprehension kept rising. She couldn’t afford to pay it any heed
. It was time for answers. “How could you possibly know anything about Yellowstone?” Feeling the need to distance herself from him, she got up and walked to the other side of the gazebo.

  He stood up and came closer, circling her. Like a wolf, she realized. The tingling intensified, and she pushed at him while backing into the corner. She couldn’t stand him circling her like prey.

  “My brother went missing in Yellowstone, too. Five years ago. I was out with him hiking one evening along with my dad. Mom and Dana were back at the lodge. Dad had gotten ahead of us and radioed back to tell us he’d warm up the car. Then, I heard it: howling,” Rafe said. He put a hand on either side of Reagan, pinning her to the gazebo wall.

  “I only saw a mound of fur jump on Rowan and start pulling him away. I ran to help him, and something hit me from behind. It did this.” He pulled off his shirt and turned so she could see his back.

  She gasped. There was a faint scar running down his back, one very similar to hers. He turned around to face her again, seeming satisfied he was making his point.

  “The next thing I remember, I woke up in a hospital. Dad was there. Guess he’d heard us scream and came running back. He was attacked, too. My brother’s funeral was several days later.”

  “But you said your brother was dead.”

  “It’s what we tell everyone. His body was never found.” Rafe reached for her.

  Just like Sam. Reagan stumbled backward. “I’m sorry about your brother, and for what happened to you and your dad, to your whole family. But what does this have to do with me? Do you think the same animal killed my brother?”

  Rafe pulled away and stared at her for what seemed like a long time. He walked over to the other end of the gazebo and punched the wall; splintering the wood. “God, Reagan. I thought you would get this. Instead, you’re acting so stupid! My brother got attacked by a wolf, just like yours. I was attacked, just like you. I guess I’ve had time to figure it out, and a family that’s joined me.”

  Reagan’s mind was overloaded with information and questions. “Figure what out? Do you mean you figured out it was a wolf? Did they tell you your attack was from a grizzly bear, too? And what the hell do you mean your family joined you?”