Nor was she like the first Macy. I could feel something on the periphery of my understanding, the reason why I’d been drawn to both girls, and their potential reflection of my own life.
Before I could get too deep into that can of worms, she rescued me with a deep breath and her story tumbling past her lips.
“When the world fell apart, my parents were killed. Our house collapsed in on us in one of the first big quakes. My sister and I survived out of sheer dumb luck—we were outside when it hit. I knew the humans were banding together to stay safe, so I went with a few neighbors we’d grown up with. One of the men got a little too friendly with Marley and me. So, we left. I vowed not to get her in that spot again. I thought we were safer on our own. I was wrong. There were worse monsters lurking in the dark than a man who gets a little handsy.”
I stayed silent while she talked and kept my eyes on the water as it danced around the small rocks in the creek below. Her broken story was the same as so many others. I knew Frost’s wouldn’t be all that different—none of those kids’ missing parents would have a better story. In this world, people you loved died every day. It was a part of this new life. As if my reality had become everyone’s overnight.
I wished that hadn’t been the case, but there was no turning from it.
Macey yanked a tall piece of grass from the ground and peeled pieces of it away, casting them aside as she went, her eyes downcast. “The werewolves came for us, looking to increase their numbers, looking for mates. It was a small pack, hit hard by that first plague that took the supernaturals out, I guess.” She looked at me, looking for reassurance that I knew what she was talking about. How could I not?
The image of dying children, of me fighting with my own abilities to save them, of failing. I shook my head. No, there were no dying kids here. Or at least not kids I would see die.
I cringed and made myself nod. She went on, tossing another piece of grass into the creek. “But a fifteen-year-old with no fighting experience, and a ten-year-old ballet dancer were no match, even for a small pack like that. They dragged her away and left me to die, they didn’t even bite me. They just wanted her. I have no idea if she’s alive or not. And . . . I don’t know which is worse. To have her be dead, or one of them.”
She looked over at me nervously. “I did look for her for a while, you know. I didn’t just abandon her. But on my own, I was vulnerable, and injured. I knew I had to find a group that could help me get better. But none of them wanted to help me, I was a burden.” She shrugged. “I hope for Marley’s sake she’s happy. But I doubt it. She’s probably dead.” She tossed the last piece of grass into the creek with more force than was necessary.
“I’m sorry, Macey,” I said.
“Sorry doesn’t bring her back. Sorry doesn’t change what they did to her.” Her words held a lot of heat, but I didn’t flinch. She wasn’t angry at me, but at the world.
“No, I suppose it doesn’t.” I wanted to tell her I would help her. I would search for her sister. But I knew I couldn’t, and she was probably right. Marley was likely dead.
Even though my heart screamed to help her, to tell her we’d find a way, I knew I couldn’t—there was the caravan now, and the kids here needed . . . well, they needed someone with more magic than me, but I would have to do.
Offering to help Macey would only cause her more pain when or if we found her sister, and what was left of her. But the pull to help was still there. After all, it’s what Rylee had taught me to do: help injured souls, save the children, put the pieces of others’ lives back together.
“Since then, every wolf I see is that gray one with the green eyes that hauled Marley off into the brush. And as far as I’m concerned, every werewolf out there deserves to die.” Her eyes locked with mine, daring me to challenge her reasoning.
I shifted my stance. There was no way I could convince her otherwise, so I didn’t bother to try. Instead I put her on the spot. “What if the next wolf you see is your sister? Would that stay your hand?”
She frowned as she stood. “None of the wolves we saw today were her. And if it was her . . . maybe she’d be better off dead. Better than being one of them. A freak show supernatural monster.”
Well, that was subtle. Her eyes locked on mine. “So, you see, there are no good wolves. No good supernaturals. Not even that idiot Sage is any good.”
While I agreed with her on Sage, I knew the rest was a blanket statement coming from pain and grief. No better than saying all politicians were idiots back in the day. Most, sure, but there were always exceptions to the rule.
“Sure, if that’s what you want to believe, fine by me.” I shrugged. “Look, I have to talk to Richard.”
She frowned. “Why?”
“Because he’s being a dick.” I turned my back on her as she gave a laugh, and then I started east again. Richard needed a smack upside the back of his head. And I was just the witch to do it.
Chapter Ten
I found Richard, Sage, and that ass face Ron arguing near the edge of the forest. The forest where the werewolves had come from and only just retreated to.
Like I said, they were idiots; it was amazing that they had survived the last three years. Their previous witch, Wilma, must have been nothing short of a powerhouse.
Oka sat at their feet, grooming herself, innocent as could be. But even as I approached I saw her eyes flick to the forest over and over. She knew as did I that just because the werewolves had retreated didn’t mean they were gone.
My skin itched with the weight of unseen eyes. Yeah, we needed to get our butts in gear and get moving.
“Hey, Dick.” I shouted the shortened version of his name and the three of them stopped and turned to me. I smiled. “Look, I know you all are busy running things. But you have to get your caravan to move.”
Sage pulled herself up and raised an eyebrow. “You are not in charge—”
“There are creatures out there,” I pointed at the forest, “that hunt by scent alone. They will smell the blood of the injured and dead and they will come looking for a free meal. You need to move your people, Dick.”
Oka coughed at his feet, covering a snicker.
Richard’s eyes were hard, but apparently, he wasn’t a complete idiot. “You have a point. Ron, head back and get the caravan moving. We travel ten more miles. Will that be sufficient?”
Oh, the snotty sarcasm, that was the most real emotion I’d seen from him yet. I kept the smile plastered on my face. “Fifteen would be better.”
I turned and flicked my fingers for Oka to follow me, then paused and looked over my shoulder. “I put the kids in the Humvee. Where they could be safe from a second attack. Seeing as they are our future, right?”
Richard stiffened, but he couldn’t argue with me. Not if he really was all about keeping them safe. “Of course, excellent idea,” he said softly.
Yeah, we were not going to be friends after this, but whatever. I would do what I could to keep Frost and the other kids safe as long as I could.
I just couldn’t do it. I couldn’t see them all die in front of me.
You are being a child, Pamela. The darkness is yours to command. To use as you wish.
I cringed, but already I could feel a pull on me. The urge to reach out, just to give in to the magic that could make a difference, a real difference. But what would it cost me?
My soul, or any sense of right and wrong? I had no idea, and I was terrified to find out.
I shook my head. “Fuck, this is getting dicey.”
Oka trotted along beside me. “We need to talk. You aren’t going to believe what I learned from those two. Before Ron showed up, at least.”
I took a breath and nodded. “Fire away,” I said, despite the fact I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear what she had to say.
She paused as we got close to the caravan. “At least they listened to you.”
“This time,” I said softly.
The humans were like a kicked anthill, packing up fast an
d just shoving their bags into the few vehicles. Fires were being put out with buckets of water from the creek.
I held myself back, watching as the group slowly got moving again. Fifteen miles would take half the night, easily. Maybe longer. But it had to be done.
Oka pawed at my leg and I held out my arms for her. She leapt up and put herself onto my shoulder.
She leaned into my head, and a deep sigh slid from her. “I don’t think we can leave this caravan, Pam. I know you’ve been considering breaking away, and I understand why, but . . . something is happening here. Something we were supposed to stumble on. I’m sure of it.”
Now, that was not what I was expecting from her. But I kept my thoughts to myself. Mostly because I’d been thinking the same thing with the connections Frost had shown me to Alex and Raven. Something was indeed up.
“Why do you think that?” I tucked my hands under my arms. Sure, it was summer, but this far north, the nights were still blisteringly cold, and tonight would be no exception. What I wouldn’t give to light a couple tiny fires and just hold them in my hands as I walked.
Oka adjusted her balance before she went on, her tail wrapping around my neck like a furry orange scarf. “Richard believes the kids are Immunes and that is why the werewolves came for them. Frost included, of course. And he thinks that the new child of Chris’s will be born Immune as well. The general belief he’s holding to is that all children born since the Rending are Immune. That their new Immunity will bring a sort of balance to the world. Since so many humans have been lost, and the supernaturals have enjoyed a bit of an uprising, he thinks this is a form of evolution to keep the humans from dying out.”
“What does Sage say?” I asked.
“Well, she argued against him, said he was an idiot. What’s curious to me on top of his theory, which in itself isn’t all that far out there, is how he even knows what an Immune is. How can he possibly know these things if he’s just a human?”
Yeah, that had been my next question. How could he know a term like that when it was rare even within the supernatural community?
Secrets and lies, looked like our little Dick was full of them.
I nodded and fell into step a good twenty feet behind the last of the caravan. Far enough back to be separate, but not totally out there by myself. Even I knew that being with a group like this was better than going it alone again. At least for now.
I thought about what Oka had told me. If Richard was right, then humans becoming Immune would surely slow down the exponential growth of the supernatural community. Assuming they weren’t just killed outright.
“I’m not sure that it matters, though, not really. If anything, it means that the kids are safer than we thought they were,” I pointed out.
“And all the more reason to make sure that they make it to adulthood. But we don’t even know if they are Immune. I mean, unless you want to see if Sage will lay a spell on one of them right now?” Oka said.
I snorted. “No, that can wait and be a last resort of figuring this out. Last thing we want is to tire Sage out. We might need her for something.” And there was no way I was going to tap into the magic left to me and test it on a bunch of innocent kids.
I mulled it over and over, looking for a moment since I’d been here where I could say that the kids showed signs of being Immune. I snapped my fingers as the images pulled together. There it was, a scene that I’d thought nothing of at the time because Sage was so weak to begin with. I’d assumed it had been her just being what she was.
“You remember when we were first with the group, maybe the first week, the kids were playing outside Sage’s tent? They were making a ton of noise and started throwing rocks at her tent because they bounced off and back at them? And they’d taken some of Sage’s herbs off the drying rack for a bouquet for Chris.”
Oka nodded. “Yes, and Sage lost her mind.”
My turn to nod.
“She tried to give them all a slap with her magic, nothing that would have been hard enough to really hurt them, I don’t think. But . . . they ran away when she yelled, Oka. Not when the magic touched them.” I pulled the scene through my head over and over, replaying it.
Yes, I was sure of it now. Even when the magic had touched them, it hadn’t done anything. At the time, I thought it was because Sage had second thoughts about backhanding a bunch of toddlers and had pulled back. But now, I could see it for what it was.
Her magic had dissolved around them.
They were Immunes.
I could go along with that from what I’d seen with my own eyes. But Richard was making a leap if he thought that all children who’d been born in the last three years were the same as the three in this camp, or even Chris’s unborn child for that matter. There might be something special about these three toddlers. Maybe some supernatural bloodlines in their background he wasn’t aware of. That sort of stuff happened all the time.
I should know.
“He also really believes there’s a place he’s calling the Haven, some people call it Shamballa, in the east. I mean, I know he’s mentioned it, but I thought that was all for show. But from what he said it’s more than that.” Her cat lips dipped down as she spoke. “He believes that the Haven will block all supernaturals outside its walls.”
I snorted. “Walls? Standing walls?”
“That’s what he said.” Her ears flicked, and I could feel her emotions as she considered it. A place of safety for the humans would be a good thing.
Richard had mentioned it during his congratulatory speech about how Sage would lead them there, after she’d pretended to defeat the wolves. I’d assumed it was a leftover sanctuary from before the Rending, or just something said to keep people happy. Maybe a place with a hole-riddled fence acting as a defense where a larger group was waiting for them.
I understood humans needed a goal in order to get up and keep going every day, and what better goal than a place of complete safety?
Not that there was one. I’d have heard of it before now. Hell, Stefan’s assholes would have taken it by now. Still, it made sense in terms of continuing forward and keeping the caravan mobile. If they found this Haven and didn’t have to fend off werewolves and other marauders, they could grow food, keep livestock—assuming again that they could keep the predators away, and just make better lives for themselves. But something about the way Oka spoke made me think there was something more. “Where in the east?”
She shrugged her small shoulders. “He doesn’t know. Just east. So that’s why every day he leads the caravan into the rising sun. Just, go east. That’s his mantra. He thinks the Haven is protected from being easily found.”
A chill swept over me. There had been a place of safety like what he was thinking, several actually, but they’d been created for the supernaturals of the world, not the humans. My training of magic was scattered, but one thing I knew for sure was that it liked balance. I tapped a finger on my chin. It was possible that those places of safety had flip-flopped when the humans became the creatures in need.
But . . . I wasn’t so sure, and my theories were nothing more than that. Theories.
“Okay, but what happens when he hits the ocean before he comes to this magical Haven of his?”
Oka shook her head. “No idea. But that isn’t the half of it. He believes this place will keep them safe . . . forever.”
I nodded. “Never would have guessed that with a name like the Haven.”
She ignored my interruption. “And that if we bring enough Immune children to it, Richard could save the human race from going extinct. He talked like it was a higher calling he had. He did mention Wilma, the previous witch. Oh, could that be where he learned about Immunes?”
“No, most supernaturals didn’t know about Immunes. It wasn’t common knowledge,” I said softly, thinking on her words.
It wasn’t just some mass settlement Richard was looking for. For whatever reason, he thought all the Immune children would be there, and singlehandedly re
surrect the human population. It was a tall order for a bunch of toddlers and one unborn baby.
“Well, he fancies himself pretty smart then, doesn’t he?” I said.
Richard did have some curious insights, but this information was striking, to say the least. How the hell was he getting it anyway? I just couldn’t believe that he came up with these theories on his own, which meant he had a connection to someone who did know. And that, sure as shit stinks, was not Sage.
I frowned. “You think Wilma could have believed this?”
“Oh.” Oka breathed out the word. “That would make sense. Maybe they were close?”
That was possible.
“Maybe,” I agreed.
“Well, Dick believes the wolf attack targeted the children for a reason. That the supernaturals know about the Immunes and want to take them out. They don’t want them breeding,” Oka said. “And I hate to say it, but all of this does make sense. I mean, parts I wish didn’t, but . . .”
I agreed with her again. “Yeah, that isn’t much of a stretch. At least the part about the wolves targeting the kids. We saw that ourselves.” I frowned. I’d been circling that very theory since I’d seen how the werewolves had gone after the truck. With so many of us around that would’ve been easier to pick off, it was clear they had a goal in mind. Now that their numbers were starting to recover post plague, I knew they weren’t on that kind of mission. Nor did they seem terribly starved. They were after something else. And the children were the only thing that made sense based on where they concentrated the attack.
Richard’s thought that the kids were Immune only added pieces to the puzzle that fit better than I wanted. There were questions, though, that I could make neither heads nor tails of.
“How would the wolves even know the kids were Immune?” I asked softly. “Who would know about an Immune, or that it was even a thing to look for?”
Oka’s tail twitched as she mulled it over. “I really don’t know. An elemental maybe? There are some left besides your father.”
Aimless Witch (Questing Witch Series Book 1) Page 9
