by Sarah Beth
Forgetting the fact that Abby knew so little, Wesley opened his mouth without thinking. “How is it possible for a Faye child to live in the human world unprotected for eighteen years?” That didn’t make sense.
Alex tilted his head to one side, about to speak when Abby’s voice filled the room again. Clear confusion and possibly annoyance in her tone, “Faye child? What are you talking about?”
He looked back at her. Her arms were folded over her chest again, and determination was set into her face so strongly he almost chuckled. Who knew something so small could look so strong.
Alex cleared his throat then, causing Wesley and Abby to look back at him. He had a brow raised in Wesley’s direction and a clear message of irritation came through the pack bond.
Wesley, humble as always, shrugged. “Well, she’s kind of going to need to know at some point.” And he could feel bad about making the situation worse later, when his Alpha wasn’t looking at him.
Abby turned her glare on Alex, who sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Wesley….”
He knew that tone, that I’m-going-to-give-you-a-lecture-about-watching-what-you-say tone. Thankfully, Abby wasn’t a very patient person it would seem.
“Why did he call me a Faye-child? I thought I was a witch, according to you.”
Another sigh before Alex opened his eyes and looked across the island. “Do you know what the Faye are, Abby?”
She looked from him to Wesley and back again, before sagging slightly. “Apparently not, since you’re going to tell me.”
Wesley couldn’t help but smile, his chest vibrating with a contained laugh.
Alex groaned, running a hand down his face. How many times had Wesley been the cause of that exact look crossing his mentor’s face? Too many to count, he was sure. But it was very amusing to have someone else be the cause of Alex’s pain.
“Alright, I’m sure the extent of what you know of the Faye you’ve heard from myths or other stories?” Alex looked at Abby, waiting for her to respond. When all she did was shrug, Alex looked like he was trying to suppress another sigh. “Right. So the Faye, as you likely know them, are small little fairy creatures who fly and can use magic. But the Faye that are not myth are very different.” He paused, taking a sip of his apple cider.
Wesley was watching Abby as she leaned closer to the island, her hands clasped in her lap. “The Faye are really more like the elves you see in movies these days, immortal and very powerful in their kind of magic. They tend to keep to themselves, away from the human world we all live in.” Alex shrugged, “I suppose after living a few thousand years, humans become very boring.”
Abby’s eyes grew big, “Thousands of years?”
Alex nodded, setting his cider down. “At one time, the Faye lived side-by-side with their human neighbors, as well as other species’, in relative peace. But then that changed…”
She was waiting, Wesley could tell by the way she was leaning closer to the island, for more of the story. But Wesley knew that Alex wouldn’t say any more. Whether because he truly didn’t know why the Faye had vanished into hiding, or just didn’t like talking about it, Wesley had never figured out.
Realizing she wasn’t going to get more of the story, Abby sighed. She leaned back into her chair and crossed her arms again. “Alright. So the Faye are more like Lord of the Rings elves than Tinker Bell, good to know. So why, again, did Wesley call me a Faye-child?”
Alex looked at her then, his eyes and body language softening from his instructor manner back to the friendly old wolf that Wesley knew well. “Because, child. When you mix a Faye and a human, you get a Faye-child. Descendants of the Faye are called witches, because only with Faye blood in your veins can you do magic.”
Chapter Six
❖
Abby
She stared at the friendly face across the island from her. They were crazy, they had to be! It didn’t make any sense. Except maybe it kind of did. Everything weird that had ever happened to Abby started playing in her brain like a movie reel. Breathing shallow breaths, she tried to gain control over her vocal cords. “What –,” Pause, take a deep breath. “You’re saying I’m half-Faye? And that I can do magic? But that’s impossible!”
“Is it? Do you know for certain who your parents are, Abby?” Wesley’s voice drew her attention to the other side of the island.
Did she know who her parents were? Well, not exactly. She shook her head, both answering his question and trying to get rid of the unnerving thoughts filling her brain. “I mean, no. I was in foster care by the time I was five. And I –,” she paused, looked down at her hands laying in her lap, “I don’t remember anything before that. It’s just...it’s all a blur.”
Silence descended on the room. Was it possible? Was it possible that her mother, or her father, had been a super-magical being? But if her parents had known of this world, had known of what she would become, why would they give her up? Why would they send her away like she meant nothing?
Her palms started to sweat; her head started to pound with the force of her heartbeat. She needed to get a hold of herself. She stopped wondering those questions a long, long, time ago. They didn’t make anything change or make anything better. Wondering never did. She was an orphan, plain and simple. She always was and until this moment, thought she always would be. But what if?
Wesley’s voice broke the silence, but it was full of hesitation, as if he was afraid to break the calm. “Some sort of binding spell? It could be possible. But what kind of Faye would want to hide their child like that?” Abby looked up at Wesley, and then back to Alex. It was clear on both men’s faces that the thought of a Faye casting such a spell wasn’t a pleasant idea.
Inclining his head, Alex sighed. “Mm, it could’ve been. But it would have to be a very powerful binding spell. I’ve been around for a while, but I’m not sure I even know of a Faye that powerful.” He stopped and looked over at her, his eyes soft. “This Faye must have had a very good reason to hide their child away. Without any protection or training, for that long.”
“What’s a binding spell?” She still sounded weak to her own ears, her throat having trouble letting the words out. But if she was going to be stuck here, in this crazy sort of dream, she was going to get all the facts straight.
“A binding spell can be placed on a being of magic, hiding their powers from the world and from themselves.” said Wesley, running a hand through his hair. “But for one to be on someone for thirteen years – that’s unheard of.”
She focused on him again, her eyebrows pulled together. “Why is that strange?”
Alex spoke up, his instructor like voice back again. “Binding spells take power to keep working. So whoever put that spell on you must have either been very powerful or had the spell attached to something that was keeping it live. Until recently, that is.”
“Okay,” she said, sighing as she wiped her palms on her jeans. As crazy as it all sounded, she couldn’t help but believe it just a little. In a strange way, it all made sense. Grasping her forgotten mug in her hands. Savoring the slight warmth it gave off, Abby took a deep breath. “So how do we find out who put this spell on me? And why did it suddenly stop working? Why the hell would anyone put a binding spell on their kid and then just turn them loose?”
Alex sighed, shaking his head slowly, “I’m not sure Abby. I’m afraid I don’t have all the answers.”
She could plead insanity. The judge would have her locked up in some nice padded room, where she wouldn’t have to talk to anyone ever again. But no. Instead she was sitting in a nice house in the middle of the forest, watching an old werewolf cook her dinner.
Abby sat on one of the big red armchairs closest to the fire, and watched Alex bring bowls down from a cupboard. They put their conversation on hold — the stew was almost ready, and the others would be over soon. There were other werewolves, of course there were. She had already deduced that the girl who had been so kind to her earlier — Tori, if Abby remembered
correctly — was sure to be a werewolf too.
And she was half-Faye. Apparently.
Okay, sure. In all honesty, she had heard of some pretty crazy things in the world. She was sure a few of her foster parents could have actually been labeled by a psychologist. Werewolves and being outed as a Faye somehow didn’t sound completely insane. She glanced over at Wesley, who had moved to stand by the window closest to her. His shoulders were showing tension that she was sure he was trying to hide. With his attention looking outside she was able to study his profile without being noticed. His jaw was strong, but it still held onto adolescence just a bit — a little extra fat still here and there. Not like the guy was unfit by any means, but it made him look closer to her age.
As she looked at him the warmth in her belly started to unfurl again, growing stronger and filling her with a nervous energy. The ferocity of it took her by surprise; up until this point it had been manageable, a slight fever or something. Now, sitting by herself with enough time to think about it clearly, it was turning into something else. She didn’t understand it and it was a little frightening, if she was being honest with herself. Sure, Wesley was attractive but looks had never been enough to make her want to plaster herself to a guy’s side before. And that’s what she felt right now, a need deep in her bones to touch him; to be as close to him as possible. Unnerved by her own emotions, that were so out of her own control, she looked away from Wesley and back into the fire.
Then she wondered what his wolf form looked like.
She’d seen wolves before, during a school trip to a sanctuary, and they had been pretty big. But she guessed that this tall guy would not shrink into a wolf the size of great dane. No, he would probably be much bigger. Of course, that was if these werewolves could change form. Everything she knew about werewolves from stories said they could. But who knew if those myths really held any truth to them. Maybe she would ask Alex later.
Turning her attention fully to the stone fireplace, she tried to enjoy the warmth it gave off. It wasn’t very warm in Alex’s house. She assumed that werewolves ran a higher temperature than humans — or Faye — something else the myths always said. But it wasn’t uncomfortably cold, either. Still, the orange and yellow flames gave her brain something to focus on and the warmth was comforting.
The sound of the door opening drew her attention from the heat. Tori came through the door, her blond hair blowing in the wind that came rushing through the entry. Abby could see Wesley turn towards the door out of the corner of her eye, his body even more tense than it had been. His fists un-clenched after a brief moment.
“About time you kids showed up, I was about to feed these two without you.” Alex spoke from his spot by the stove, as he was already dishing out bowls full of stew. Abby was pretty sure he was kidding, considering he had a smile on his face. The smile only dimmed slightly when he turned away from the stove and noticed that only Tori had walked into the house. “Where are Warren and Kyle? I thought they were coming for dinner tonight.”
Tori hung up her light jacket by the door, toeing off her boots into the plastic boot tray. “They just dropped me off, they’ll come for dinner tomorrow. They didn’t want to overwhelm Abby.” Once her boots were off, she wandered into the living room. She sat down on the coffee table in front of Abby. “How you feeling?”
Her smile was so warm that Abby couldn’t help but smile back, “Well, I think I’ve decided I’m not insane. So that’s something.”
Tori chuckled, patting Abby’s knee, “I think you’ll fit in just fine, Abby.”
Abby shrugged one shoulder, “Who are Kyle and Warren? And why didn’t they come?” She was curious, although not exactly upset, about not getting to meet more werewolves. Three in one room was enough for her, at the moment.
The small smile Tori gave her was soft, “They’re the other two members of our pack. They figured you had had enough of an adventure for one day, they didn’t want to make you feel outnumbered. You can meet them tomorrow, though! They’re giant teddy bears, I promise.”
Abby wondered how she could feel more outnumbered than she already did but decided not to point that out to Tori.
“Alright, come grab a bowl! We might as well get started if it’s just the four of us tonight.”
They headed for the kitchen and Abby was hyper aware of Wesley walking behind them. It was like she could feel the warmth of his body even though there were feet separating them. Trying to ignore the feeling growing in the pit of her stomach, Abby took the bowl offered to her by Alex.
He smiled brightly as she took the bowl in her hands, “For you, my dear.”
The stew looked amazing, although she hadn’t expected anything less with how the house had been smelling for last couple of hours. Her bowl, full of veggies and potatoes, was steaming hot as it warmed her hands through the blue ceramic. Alex winked at her before disappearing back towards the stove.
Tori pulled out her own seat, and then the one beside her, “Come sit, Abby. You don’t need to worry about anything else tonight, I promise. You’re amongst friends here.”
Wesley walked by her, his arm brushing hers as he headed for the stove and his own bowl of food. With a deep breath to calm the sudden fire spreading through her body, Abby took the seat offered to her.
Chapter Seven
❖
Wesley
Dinner went by without a hitch, but Wesley hadn’t really expected anything different. Dinner was a kind of sacred thing in Alex’s house — no troubles were ever brought to the table. Tori joked around, taking up the absence of Kyle well. She even brought up a few rather embarrassing stories of Wesley that he would have to get back at her for later. But then Abby would laugh and suddenly he wouldn’t care so much about his ego taking a hit. He was mesmerized by the sound it; it was like listening to the wind blow through the leaves on a full moon night. He wondered if anyone else felt that way about this girl and her fire red hair, but he was too afraid to ask.
All throughout the meal he was hyper aware of where her feet were under the table, so close to his it was like he could feel them through his socks. He had the urge to reach his foot out to find hers but stopped himself at the last moment, his foot raised off the floor. What was he thinking? Playing footsie under the table like a high schooler? His wolf rumbled with pleasure under his skin, pleased with the thought. But no, he was not going to make a fool of himself.
Then he would look across the table at her, her eyes an unnaturally bright shade of green, and he was certain his heart stopped. Wesley had been looking up into green eyes for most of his life — Alex had green eyes, after all. But Abby’s were on an entirely different level. They shown with their own inner light and he swore they sparkled when she laughed.
Something about this witch was different, he was sure of it. Not that he had met many other witches in his life. But he had met plenty of girls and none of them made his emotions freak out like this one did. The protectiveness that was a normal instinct in werewolves had been turned on tenfold when he saw her walk in that cemetery. He had wanted to battle the damn ghost that had made her faint and that was impossible. He’d never had so much trouble controlling his wolf, who had wanted to spring free and protect her with everything he had.
Positive that she must have cast some sort of spell on him, he kept playing the morning over in his brain. But the longer she had talked with Alex, the clearer it had become that she had no idea what she was. She would’ve had no way to cast a spell on him to make him feel the way he was, even accidentally.
No, it was something else. Wesley just wasn’t sure what.
After the plates were cleared and everyone had settled themselves on the couches, the fire was brought back to roaring life. Wesley sat on the end of the largest couch, Abby just a few feet away from him.
Tori pulled her legs up onto her chair, tucking them underneath her. “So what brought you up here anyway, Abby? You sure aren’t from this little town.”
Abby sighed, looking
down at the hot mug of mint tea in her hands, her shoulders tensing briefly before relaxing again. She was still wary around them, thought Wesley. That was good, that meant she was smart. He couldn’t blame her for being weary, either. He would’ve been too, if he was in her position.
It took her another moment before she raised her head and looked at Tori, “A ghost told me to come here.”
Wesley stared at her for moment, unable to help himself. But then so were Tori and Alex.
Alex recovered first, always the sensible figure in the room and able to keep a clear head even in the direst of circumstances. “What do you mean, Abby? Was that ghost the first one you’d seen?”
She shook her head, setting her tea down on the coffee table in front of her. “No, that wasn’t the first one — she’s been a constant one though.”
“Her?” Tori piped in.
“It’s a young girl, younger than me. She’d never spoken to me though, until last night.”
Alex sighed, setting his own mug down on the table. “Alright, why don’t you start at the beginning. You said you started seeing these spirits after your birthday. How did it start, exactly?”
A chuckle left her lips but Wesley was sure it held no humor. “I’ve been thinking about that, actually. I think I’ve always seen them. Out of the corner of my eye, or late at night by the light of the moon.” She shrugged, rubbing her hands on her thighs. “But the first one I really saw, plain as day, was when that girl was murdered at the university in April.”
Of course they had heard about the murder of Alice Hoffman, everyone in the state had. It had been the second college student murdered in six months, the first one had been in Portland. Wesley knew that after Alice’s body had been discovered, where clear signs of black magic had been found, Alex had been called in by Isaac to help.
Two murders in two different cities was one thing. But bodies didn’t usually smell like black magic; like rotting flesh, adrenaline, and pain. Alex had found out that Alice — the girlmurdered in Seattle — had been a witch from New Mexico, studying at the University. They hadn’t been able to confirm yet if the first murder was a witch too or not.
