Then, like someone pulled the plug on a projector, everything stopped and the connection dropped.
“I need Cheveyo. He must see this. I bet he’ll know who this person is and what that might mean,” Papa said, standing. “Madeleine, how much further did you see before you disconnected from Donovan?”
“Pretty much up until he left for our battle,” she answered.
“I’ll need to see more,” Papa said. “But first, I want you to come with me to see Cheveyo.”
“I’m coming, too,” Winona said.
“I think we should all go.” Reagan didn’t see any point in waiting around the library for news. As grotesque as it was, she couldn’t miss one image or word that could lead them to victory. She hadn’t allowed herself time to think about anything, to let any sadness return, or allow images of Nana’s last moments to re-enter her mind, and she wasn’t ready to. Movement kept the internal demons at bay.
Nobody questioned Papa, and a mass movement toward Cheveyo’s room began.
Rowan slipped his hand into Reagan’s when they exited the library. “I’m sorry you had to see some of that.”
She wanted to thank him, to lose herself in his strength and comfort, but she couldn’t afford to be weak. “I’m sure there’s still much worse to see.”
He didn’t try to convince her otherwise, so silence settled.
Papa slowed his steps as they neared the room. When Reagan caught up, she saw Papa standing with Sasha.
Winona clutched Cheveyo’s hand.
Reagan didn’t see any movement from the bed or from his chest. He looked lifeless. Please, God, no. Let him be okay. She prayed as she moved closer.
“Father,” Winona said. “Can you hear me?”
No response and no movement.
Aunt Sarah came around and placed her two fingers on his wrist. After an intense thirty seconds, she confirmed a pulse. A collective exhale sounded.
“Something’s wrong,” Winona said. “I’m trying to communicate with him, but I’m facing a wall. He can’t hear me.”
Aunt Sarah and Reagan joined hands with Winona. Reagan couldn’t see anything, very much like the first time she probed Donovan’s mind. It was as if Cheveyo was blocking them.
“Could it have something to do with the block he’s trying to hold over Donovan? The shield?” Reagan asked, trying to figure things out while speaking.
“I can take care of that problem right now.” Papa clenched his fist and slammed it against his side before marching out of the room.
Torn between going after him and staying with her sister, she shot a concerned glance to Rowan, who took off. Donovan had to die, and not just because he was responsible for Nana’s death or threatening Cheveyo. That man wasn’t there for rehabilitation—as if that were even possible, even his own, powerful mother couldn’t affect his true nature—he was there to perish. Plus, she’d seen the images; the things he’d done. Rape, torture, murder. He had a black heart.
Donovan’s heart might be a void, but Reagan believed Rafe didn’t have one at all. Her blood boiled. With every second that passed, he built a stronger army and tapped more resources, while picking her family off one by one. Why should they follow the rules or consider the prophecy when Rafe had no intention of playing fair? Even less so since they’d taken Donovan. Rafe might not be capable of love or feeling loss, but he wouldn’t be able to stomach them scoring even a small win.
Nana’s face filled Reagan’s mind. What would Nana do? One thing was for sure, she wouldn’t sit by and do nothing while her loved ones died. She gave up her life to ensure their safety and continue their mission. If evil won, they all lost.
When Jessica had joined them, there was hope she’d be able to provide some valuable insight, some clue to defeating Rafe. She’d lived in evil’s lair, and all she’d managed to do was further convince them of his ruthlessness. Hoping Donovan’s thoughts might produce clues felt like grasping at straws.
“We can’t lose our faith.” Winona’s words broke through Reagan’s internal tirade.
As she considered the plea, Reagan rubbed her thumbs up and down her index finger and shifted her weight from side to side. She had to get out of the cave. Run. What excuse could she give to disappear without questions or someone offering to go with her? Every one she considered wouldn’t pass scrutiny. Then, it hit her. She didn’t need their permission. If she was old enough to go into battle and see gruesome visions, she could make her own decisions, without excuses or scrutiny.
Papa wouldn’t have asked for space. Neither would Madeleine. Decision made, Reagan walked out of the room, not looking back.
“Hey, where are you going?” Sasha asked, catching up.
“I need space.” Reagan kept walking.
“It might not be the—”
Reagan didn’t want to hear it. “I don’t need permission.”
“Do you want company?”
Tempting as it was, especially since Sasha wasn’t one to judge or be chatty, Reagan wanted to do it on her own. A lump formed in her throat. Swallowing hard, she refused to cry or get choked up. How did a display of strength suddenly turn into her being a mess? Afraid she might lose control, she didn’t try to answer, shaking her head instead.
“I understand,” Sasha replied. “But when you get back, come see me. I have something for you. Something I think might help.”
Without turning around, Reagan replied with a quick okay and headed to her room. She grabbed her backpack with spare clothes. Once outside, she tucked them behind a bush near the entrance and took off. She wanted some backup clothes just in case she decided to transform. Even though it was sunny out, she wasn’t sure how long she’d be gone. Part of her wanted to stay away until all her emotions died and numbness took over, but she couldn’t worry everyone like that.
Running never felt so good. She stayed in the deepest parts of the forest, exploring the new area. It was denser than their previous home, no doubt more secluded for safety. After all, their last two hideouts had been discovered. Paying less attention than usual, she stumbled a couple of times, but got up and continued. Nothing was going to stop her.
As she whipped through the trees, a funny thought took over. She didn’t want to draw attention to herself by transforming but didn’t consider how someone might react to seeing a young woman running through the forest in a tank and shorts with snow on the ground. Maybe the ability to feel the chill in the air would soothe her spirit. Wolves rarely felt cold, unless death was imminent.
Tree branches slapped her face as she barreled through a particular copse. Something about the stinging felt good, although Mom would fuss over the scratches later.
Mom.
Reagan knew she wasn’t the only one hurting.
Mom and Aunt Sarah lost their mother.
Papa lost his wife.
Winona lost the grandmother she was just getting to know and clung to the man she considered her father, knowing his days were numbered.
And Madeleine.
Reagan didn’t know how her friend put one foot in front of the other after everything she’d been through.
Reagan felt like a brat throwing a huge pity party. Whiny girls made her crazy. A memory of splashing cold water on her best friend, Aspen—who was on a three-day crying binge over some stupid boy—came rushing back. Reagan hadn’t thought about her high school days in a while. They seemed so far away; in reality, it was less than a year before when she walked the halls of Monarch High School.
Then, Sam died. He might have come back, but she mourned him then. She watched as the casket was lowered into the ground and her parents wept. None of it could prepare her for losing Nana, for feeling her life force slip away. Could Reagan face another? Maybe she should talk to Madeleine and get advice. Or Sasha and Ricardo. Reagan didn’t know their stories, but she had no doubt there was tragedy there.
Rafe.
One man had ruined so many lives. How could Rowan come from the same bloodline? Her heart seized.
Rowan had lost everything; all he had was the family he’d created, and he stood to lose them, too. Her feet slowed as her pulse quickened, and her breathing became shallow. An odd sensation seized her chest, like someone had tightened a strap around her. In health class, they’d talked about the signs of a heart attack.
Is that what’s happening?
Stopping, she placed a hand on a nearby tree and bent over, trying to pull in air. Tightness increased. She fell to her knees and bent slightly at the waist. Panic set in. She was all alone.
“I’m with you.”
Nana.
Putting a hand to the ground, Reagan tried to stand.
“Nana?”
“Yes, my dear.”
Like a shot of ephedrine, her breathing became less labored. Still, she could barely move. “I need you here.”
“I’m always with you.”
“I’d just found you. We’d all just found you.”
Tears flooded her eyes. Without the energy to stop the waterworks, she gave in. A cold chill ran down her spine. “Nana?”
Nothing.
“Nana!”
Desperation started to affect her breathing again.
“She’s new to this plane. It’ll take her a while to sustain a connection with you.”
Cecilia. Nana is with Cecilia, Reagan thought. She took a deep breath in through her nose and let the air back out.
“Go back home. Gather your six once six are all you have. Contact us then.”
Confused, Reagan asked, “What do you mean when six are all we have?”
She waited for an answer that never came.
Home. It wasn’t a structure. Family made a home. With renewed energy, she stood and brushed the snow off her shorts and legs. Time to head back. Looking around, she felt disoriented, and she didn’t know her location. She’d run for miles, with no clear purpose or direction. Trying to calm her nerves, and hoping to avoid another breathing episode, she wondered if she should shift and try to lock onto a family member. It was so much harder to do in human form.
No. She couldn’t take that chance during the day. Closing her eyes, she put out a call. “Please, guide me home.” Faith. Winona had asked Reagan not to lose it. She’d have to believe to get back.
She ran, trusting her feet to take her where she needed to go. With each footfall, she felt more confident she’d make it. She had a mission. Not one she chose, yet not one she could turn away from. Still, she wanted to determine the path to the end only destiny could control. Deep in thought, she didn’t sense someone following her until Rowan came crashing into her space.
“Good God, you freaking scared me,” she said, a hand to her chest as she came to a sudden halt.
“I could say the same thing. Where have you been?” Anger laced his words. “What happened to your face?”
She reached up to touch her cheek. It felt like she’d been in a fight with a cat and lost. “I was running and not paying attention. I needed some time to think and—”
“We’ve been looking for you. Papa and I went to take care of Donovan and then thought of something.” He laid a hand on her shoulder. “There’s no easy way to say this, so I’m just going to get to the point. Just know I’m here for you.”
“You’re scaring me,” she said.
“Sorry. You and Winona are going to have to kill Donovan. To use the sword. We need to make sure it works before we try it on Rafe.”
Reagan took two steps back. “You want us to what?”
“We’re going into battle. You’ll need to do what needs to be done. Killing is never easy, but you won’t have a choice. Rafe won’t hesitate.” He paced. “I don’t mean to sound harsh, but that’s the reality. I’ll be here, no matter what, but I also need to prepare you for what’s to come. As much as I’d love to hide you away and make our own little world, it’s not an option.”
No matter how true the words, they were hard to hear. She felt rooted to the ground. Wasn’t there a better way to defeat evil than to slay it? Shouldn’t good rise above?
“If you really don’t want to do this right now, I’ll talk to Papa.”
“No.” She’d worked too hard to earn Papa’s respect; she wouldn’t throw it away. “I’ll do it. Lead the way.”
He squinted his eyes and seemed on the verge of saying something. Instead, he pressed his lips together, turned back toward home, and took off.
Once they arrived, he faced her. “There’s still time to change your mind.”
She shook her head and stalked into the cave. He led her to the command center.
Winona stood next to Papa near the doorway.
When Papa saw Reagan, he pulled her into a hug. Then, he pushed back, his hands gripping her shoulders. “Don’t ever run off like that again. Got it?”
She bristled at his tone, as if she were a child who got loose from the playground, but decided to keep her response short. “Got it.”
“Madeleine will meet us there with the sword. Are you ready?”
“Let’s go.”
Simple answers were all she could manage. Wishing she had time to talk to Winona, Reagan took her sister’s hand. “How do you feel about this?”
“I understand, but I don’t like it.”
“Me, either. But we’ll do it together.” Reagan squeezed as they reached their destination.
Papa keyed in the code, and the doors opened. On the other side, Madeleine stood with the sword. It looked more magnificent than the day Reagan pulled it from the ground. Someone had cleaned it up. She took it into her hands, surprised at its lightness.
She wanted to ask about the plan, but she didn’t know how without looking immature and weak. Was she supposed to walk in and ram the sword through his heart?
As if he read her mind, Rowan said, “When we get in the room, you and Winona will each hold onto it and pierce anywhere on the chest, preferably where you imagine a heart should be.”
Reagan felt sweat run down her brow and down the side of her face, puddling at the nape of her neck as Papa unlocked the cell doors. She and Winona stepped inside and held the sword between them.
“What is this?” Donovan said. “Are you going to knight me?”
“Don’t listen to him. Let’s just do this,” Reagan said to Winona.
They lifted the sword, and Donovan’s eyes grew wide.
Reagan wondered if he realized they’d found his father’s greatest desire. “My father will hunt you down and destroy you.”
Wanting it over, Reagan nodded at her sister. In one swift motion, they drove the sword into Donovan’s chest. He immediately went rigid, and his skin turned an odd gray color. Reagan half-expected him to turn to dust.
“It is done,” Madeleine said. “Let me take the sword. I’ll put it back in the safe.”
As Madeleine took the sword, Reagan willed her hand to stop shaking. She didn’t want anyone to see her body’s betrayal of her emotions. Why now? She’d killed before, although not so directly and not with human eyes staring at her. Donovan deserved to die, and she’d need to kill more before the end. Of that, she had no doubt.
“Why don’t you show Reagan where to put it?” Papa said. “I’ll program a code for you tomorrow and let you know what it is. That way you can get to it if you need to, even if we aren’t around.”
A sense of pride rushed through Reagan, but it was followed by fear. Papa wanted her to have the code. Finally, he trusted her. Plus, it further reinforced her role. She needed to lead, not have her hand shake after striking down evil. Yet, she couldn’t ignore the other reason. If he wasn’t around, he needed her to have access.
“I’m going to go back to Cheveyo,” Winona said.
Reagan felt a stab of guilt. Concerned with her own thoughts and feelings, she hadn’t considered Winona. “I’ll be by to check on you once we put the sword away.”
Winona left with Papa while Reagan followed Madeleine to the safe.
“How are you doing?” she asked.
“Okay. Killing
Donovan was easier than I thought, but I’m not sure how I feel about that.” It felt good to admit it, and Reagan knew she wouldn’t be judged.
“You have to disconnect. It’s a skill; one I’ve become too good at over the years. You destroyed evil. He wouldn’t have hesitated to kill you, and he would’ve killed others.”
“You sound like Rowan,” Reagan said.
Madeleine turned a corner and started down a hallway. “I take that as a compliment. Oh, and next time you need a run, try ducking the branches.”
Reagan rolled her eyes. At the end of the long corridor, Madeleine pushed a portion of rock aside to reveal a keypad. She entered a code so Reagan could see what it was, and the wall moved. Inside were weapons and unmarked boxes. She wondered what they held as Madeleine wiped down the sword and then slid it into a velvet-lined metal container.
Winona needed to be checked on. Once the door shut, Reagan excused herself. On the way, she realized how hungry she was from her run and stopped by the kitchen. She found a tub of peanut butter and a bagel. It would have to do.
Stuffing the last piece in her mouth, she rounded the corner into Cheveyo’s room.
Winona and Aunt Sarah stood by his bed.
“Is he any better?” Reagan whispered.
Aunt Sarah motioned toward the door, and Reagan followed into the hallway.
“He hasn’t changed. I’m barely getting a pulse. I’d ask Papa about getting him to a hospital, but they won’t be able to help. He’s drained. The shield was too much on him.”
Reagan kicked the wall. Taking Donovan prisoner hadn’t brought them answers; the one possible clue required Cheveyo’s assistance, and he might never be able to give it.
“I think you should get Jessica. I don’t know how much longer he’ll be with us.”
“Okay. I’ll be right back,” Reagan said.
Aunt Sarah returned to the room, and Reagan set off to find Jessica, unsure of the layout of their current digs. Within the stone walls, telepathic communication might be difficult, but Reagan decided to give it a try.
“Jessica, this is Reagan, can you hear me?”
Tala Prophecy: The Complete Series Page 48
