by Judith Post
Reece jumped to her feet, raced to the other room, and took a stance. The smooth wooden planks under her feet fed her energy. She called for more. Power flowed between her necklace and her pendant. She faced the tall, slim woman who strode toward her.
“Don’t come any closer.” She reminded Reece of someone. Who?
The woman’s sleek, ebony hair was pulled back in a tight twist. Dark eyes lined with kohl studied the slumbering people scattered around the apartment. “I mean no harm. I’m not an enemy, or I couldn’t pass your potion.”
A witch. She’d waved a hand over the locks. Reece hesitated, but didn’t lower her palms.
The woman’s gaze settled on Hecate. “Arise, my friend. We have plans to discuss.”
Hecate raised herself onto an elbow. She blinked, then bolted upright. “Banafrit! You can’t stay here! It’s not safe.”
Banafrit? Reece frowned. She studied the woman’s smooth, olive complexion, the almond-shaped eyes. Egyptian? Nen’s mother?
“I felt my son’s eruptions of power. I felt yours and Luna’s too.” She turned to study Aidann and Reece. “You must be the two others I noticed. Strong witches, all of you, but not strong enough to defeat my son.”
Aidann, blunt as always, didn’t mince words. “We don’t want to defeat him. We want to destroy him.”
“I know. That’s why I’m here.”
“You can’t defend him anymore.” Hecate’s expression clouded, conflicting emotions playing across her face. “I’m so sorry. There’s no redeeming him. He’s too evil.”
“I didn’t come to save him. I came to help you. Instead of running, we should have killed him when he was young.”
Reece’s heart wrenched. How long did it take a mother to give up on her only son? Reece thought of her brother Joseph. Even if he turned wicked, could she destroy him? Or would she hope someone else would do it for her? Or that he’d regret his actions and repent in time? Her thoughts went to famous villains. What did Hitler’s mother think of him? Did she still love him? Did she say to herself, “He was such a good boy. If only he hadn’t…..????” How did you give up on your own child?
Banafrit squared her shoulders. “If Nen destroys this city, he’ll become too strong. He’s already spilled too much blood. We have to stop him. It’s now or never.”
Hecate went to hug her friend. “We’ve tried, Banafrit. We aren’t strong enough. We don’t know how to do it.”
“This is my fault. You’re doing what I should have done long ago.” Banafrit’s voice faltered.
“You’re his mother." Aidann waved away her apology. "I’m Irish. That’s what Irish mothers do. They try.”
Andre nodded agreement. “My family took in my cousin. We were supposed to fix him. Not everyone can be fixed.”
Banafrit’s posture relaxed slightly. “If the world hates me, I can’t blame them.”
“He meant to kill you,” Hecate said.
Banafrit gave a wry smile. “My friend, we’re both old and powerful. We were powerful then. And there were two of us. Neither of us could make ourselves do what needed to be done.”
Hecate tugged her toward the kitchen and coffee. “Luna and I tried when he came for me.”
“Nen was too strong by then. He’d killed too many.”
Damian placed mugs on the table and began filling them. “You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s your son who’s evil.”
“I should have finished him when he killed my husband and mother-in-law. I couldn’t. Now, I’m not sure I can.” Banafrit’s voice was thick with emotion.
Aidann took a seat across from hers and reached for the bowl of fruit in the center of the table.
“Tell me what’s happened so far,” Banafrit said, “from the very beginning.”
Damian explained about finding the first man’s body in the park. He ended with their last battle and how they sealed Nen back inside his house.
“He summoned a second demon?” Banafrit shook her head.
“They sent the demon home.” Luna nodded toward Reece and Hecate.
Banafrit looked at Hecate sharply. “How did you perform a blood spell powerful enough to free a demon?”
“It asked for only a drop of blood from each of us. It wanted to leave.”
Luna nodded agreement. “After Hecate and I battled the fire demon, it asked us to release it. It hated serving your son, too.”
Banafrit sighed. “Nen will summon more witches, more warlocks. Soon, your city will be full of them. How will you battle so many?”
“We don’t even know how to win the battle with Nen,” Aidann stated.
“I must leave here. Nen feels my presence now. He’ll follow me. He wants to destroy me more than he wants to claim Hecate.”
Hecate looked out the French doors at the city skyline. “When he came for me last time, I fled, thinking he’d follow me, but he stayed to plunder the energy of each and every mortal.”
“He won’t make that mistake again. He lost track of you.” Luna’s voice was certain. “You hid your talents and lived with so little magic he couldn't sense you.”
Damian hunched his shoulders, not happy with where the conversation was going. "There's no guarantee he'll follow Banafrit. He wants to destroy her, but we just defeated him in a battle. I don't think Nen deals well with defeat. I think he'll enjoy crushing us and making Hecate pay for defying him."
Banafrit fixed Damian with a thoughtful stare. "Perhaps you're right. Hecate and I should leave here together. If we run, Nen will chase us.”
“He will find you. He won’t stop until he does. And he’ll kill you.” Aidann locked eyes with Banafrit. “Here, you have friends. We’ll all work together to defeat Nen.”
“And thousands of people will die. I won’t allow it.” Banafrit didn’t flinch. There was no give in her voice.
Andre stood and began pacing. "I'm going with you. Hecate's not facing Nen alone."
Aidann took a deep breath. “I’ll go too. I hate Nen as much as Luna does. We’ll find some place to take a stand.”
"No!" Damian pushed to his feet. He glared at all of them. "Don't you get it? If he kills all of you, he'll be even stronger. And then he'll come back here to finish us and all of Bay City."
Reece stared. "Damian's right. We might as well make a stand here, all of us working together."
Luna scrubbed a hand across her face. "The odds are against us."
"Not if numbers make any difference.” The voice came from the doorway. They turned in unison to see Wedge Durrow standing in the small foyer. He was dressed in khaki pants and a white shirt that accented his tawny coloring.
Banafrit sniffed. “You’re a Were. Nen’s too strong for you.”
“But most witches aren’t. My pack killed six of Minerva’s coven yesterday.” Wedge effortlessly lifted a chair to squeeze in beside Damian at the table. “The demon attacked my second in command, and the witches came after me. This is our fight, too.”
Banafrit didn’t know what to say. She turned to Hecate, confused.
“Wedge is Bay City’s alpha,” Hecate explained. “We often work together.”
“In Bay City, yes. For this, no.” Banafrit shook her head in warning.
Wedge’s gold-brown eyes grew more gold than brown—a sign of temper, Reece had learned. “No one attacks my pack and lives to tell about it. If you won’t work with us, we’ll fight Nen’s witches ourselves.”
“But what can you do?”
“Kill any friends he brings.”
Banafrit pursed her lips, considering. “If you join with us, you should keep some distance away.”
A slow, predatory grin lifted Wedge’s lips. “My thoughts exactly. We’ll have more room to maneuver. And fewer people will get hurt if we lure Nen away from the city. I was thinking about my camp.”
Banafrit frowned.
Wedge explained. "Weres need room to roam, to hunt, at full moons. I bought property far enough from anything civilized to do as we please. Witches can have t
he lodge. Weres will bring tents to camp out."
Banafrit gave a quick nod. “The sooner we leave here, the better. Once we’re ready, we’ll weaken the shield on Nen’s house, and he’ll come after us.”
Reece shivered. They’d barely survived the last battle they’d fought with Nen.
“Take it easy, kid,” Wedge told her. “We’ll have your back this time.”
“It’s the rest of me I’m worried about.”
Wedge laughed. He took a map out of his back pocket and tossed it on the table. “Our getaway for solstice moons. If you girls throw a few fireworks around, Nen will find us. If witches come for you, we can attack their flanks.”
“But you'll have to live in tents?” Reece didn’t mean to sound so horrified.
Wedge motioned to the air mattress in the corner. “We’re prepared. We have septic tanks and campgrounds. There are four bathrooms and showers near the lake.”
“You own a lake?”
“A small one. We get thirsty when we shift.”
She should have known Wedge would have it equipped.
He grinned. “I wouldn’t want you to lose beauty sleep worrying about us, but since that’s taken care of, let’s get out of Bay City.”
“You’re rushing us. Why?”
Wedge shrugged. “Banafrit said it herself—the sooner we leave, the better.”
“How many Weres are you taking?” Damian asked.
“Half a dozen, besides me. Enough to do some damage.”
Luna nodded. A single Were was formidable. Seven posed a serious threat.
“Pack your bags, ladies,” Andre said. “Let Pete know we’re taking our battle elsewhere, and then let’s hit the road.”
Damian flipped open his cell while Reece stuffed a duffel bag with enough essentials to last her a week. Then she frowned. She called her mom in Florida. “I’m leaving Bay City for a while,” she told her, “and I won’t call you unless I make it back. If you don’t hear from me, don’t return home.”
“Why can’t you call?” her mom asked.
“Because I don’t want Nen to be able to find you. I’m erasing all the calls I’ve made to you in Florida. And remember, if you don’t hear from me, don’t call here and don’t return.”
“Reece…”
“I’m sorry, Mom, but this is for the best.” She hung up and deleted every sign of her mom and Joseph and Jenny from her cell.
Her three week break between martial arts classes was going fast. It felt like an eternity had passed, but it was only because so much had been packed into such a short time. Still, she wasn’t sure she’d be back in time to start the next sessions on schedule. She grabbed her laptop to take with her. If she had to, she could e-mail parents and students to let them know there was a delay. If she lived through this, a temporary delay. If she didn’t… well, what would it matter?
Chapter 24
Before they left the apartment, Damian asked, “Should I call for Benito and Antony?”
Banafrit shook her head. “Your city needs protection. They should stay.”
Plans were made so quickly, Reece felt off balance. In less than an hour, all of them were packed and on their way. Andre drove Hecate, Luna, Banafrit, and Aidann. Reece and Damian went with Wedge. The weather hadn’t changed. A steady drizzle fell from low, heavy clouds.
Reece let Damian ride shotgun, next to his friend, and she sat in the seat behind them, half-listening to their occasional small talk and half-listening to the slip-slap of the windshield wipers. Wet cement glistened before and behind them. Fields disappeared into gray mists.
Small towns sprang up here and there, some quaint and charming, most of them rundown and tired. After an hour or more, they reached a gravel road. Wedge turned onto it, and Andre followed him. Tree branches slapped at both vehicles. Puddles filled ruts. They bounced forward.
Wedge turned again. Brambles lined a narrow drive. A bog stretched on the left side. Twisted, fallen trees littered the forest floor on the right. How rustic was Wedge’s lodge? Reece pictured a gloomy glen with a gray, crumbling house awaiting them. She’d read too many Gothic novels. She glanced upward, but trees formed a tunnel overhead, blocking out the sky.
Reece wrinkled her nose at a rotting carcass on the side of the road. That could be her in a few days. If they couldn’t defeat Nen in the city, she didn’t see how they’d defeat him here. Banafrit, however, had been optimistic.
“We’ll put every potion known to witches around the lodge,” she’d told them. “And you…” Banafrit had pointed to Reece. “Keep touching your necklace. When it knows something, finds magic that can help us, it will tell you. Nen will send witches and warlocks before he comes. We’ll deal with them. When we finally face my son, we’ll be ready.”
Reece wasn’t thrilled with Banafrit’s strategy, but she had none of her own. All they’d managed to do, so far, was contain Nen. They hadn’t even hurt him, only made him angry. Her fingers automatically went to her moonstone. It felt warm and comforting, but no inspiration came.
The Suburban hit a series of deeper ruts. They jarred her. There was a sharp turn. Branches scratched at her closed window. Wedge braked to a near crawl, and the trees stopped. So did the rain. Sun rays pierced a dark cloud and shone on a large, green clearing before them. A stone lodge with a shake roof and a bright, red door sat strong and solid on a rise. Cheerful. It looked downright welcoming. Reece's spirits lifted.
“You have a thing for red,” she told Wedge as they waited for Andre to park beside them.
“That’s Megs,” he said. “Her favorite color.”
Reece couldn’t stop a smile. Wedge was devoted to his wife.
People spilled from both vehicles, and Wedge motioned them to the house and led them inside.
A great room greeted them with a bank of windows that overlooked a meadow bursting with blooms. A floor-to-ceiling fireplace hunched between the large, glass panes. The kitchen was to the right, the bedrooms to the left.
Andre sucked in his breath when he saw the kitchen. A six-burner stove with double ovens anchored the far side. A restaurant-sized refrigerator took up one wall, along with a pantry. A double sink with two dishwashers took up the third. A monstrous island separated the cooking space from the living area.
“That’s Meg’s idea, too,” Wedge said. “She loves to cook. A good thing. Weres are ravenous at full moons.”
Reece could imagine Wedge’s slender, lithe wife bustling about in the big kitchen. The maple cabinets would be a perfect foil for her fiery, red hair and freckled nose. The house suited her perfectly—friendly and practical.
Wedge grinned. “You should see her here, bossing Weres into stirring sauces and cutting vegetables. They all love her.”
“Who wouldn’t?” The words slipped out before Reece could edit them. She tried to keep some distance between her and the alpha, always keeping her guard up.
“She likes you, too,” Wedge said. “She won’t be happy if I take you home in a box.”
Reece winced, and he shook his head. “Hang in there, kid. We’ll figure out something yet.”
Damian lowered boxes filled with potions and brews onto the island’s counter top. “Where do you want these?” he asked Hecate.
“We’ll worry about those later.” Hecate turned to Banafrit. “We can find more plants in the forest. This is a perfect place to take our stand.”
“You're talking witch stuff,” Wedge said. “I’m going to the campground to see Bull and Whitey. They came ahead of me to set up tents. Make yourselves at home.”
Reece watched him climb into his Surburban and drive away. Then she looked around the cabin. Oak floors gleamed in the light from the windows. A rag rug lay between a scarlet, overstuffed sofa and a matching love seat. Two, leather recliners flanked each side, and a solid coffee table centered the grouping. Magazines littered its marred wood. Red pillows were scattered on window seats. A deer skin stretched near the peak of the high ceiling, and a bookcase lined one wall. A
comfortable retreat—she’d be happy staying here if it weren’t their last bastion against Nen.
Damian followed her gaze as it went to the giant windows. Goldfinches flitted from one flower to the next. “You’re not trying to decide where we should put our headstones, are you?”
“I doubt Nen will bury us. Animals will probably gnaw our bones.”
He laughed. “I didn’t take you as that imaginative, but this is as good a place as any to end my days.”
She wasn’t imaginative. She was practical, but it wasn’t hard to picture herself as a corpse sometime soon. This spot was better than good. It was beautiful. But Reece wasn’t ready to say her farewells. “This not-aging thing can be awfully short-lived,” she grumped.
“Come on.” Damian took her hand. “Let’s go for a walk and look around.”
Banafrit nodded. “We’ll go in one direction and you go in the other. Look for witch ingredients and good places to battle or hide.”
Reece sighed. She wanted a break from her morbid thoughts, but she wasn’t going to get one. She walked out the back door onto a large, wooden deck. She and Damian went down two sets of stairs to the meadow. A stream meandered through it, and they followed it.
Tall grasses brushed their knees, still wet from the rain. The bottom of Reece’s jeans grew dark, their hems soaked. Her socks felt damp, the soles of her moccasins saturated. Still, they walked. A hummingbird darted between red and purple columbines. A bee droned.
The ground dipped and trees started again. The stream cut through the loamy soil. They followed it until they saw a lake in the distance. Wedge’s camp was at its edge.
When they walked out of the woods, Bull waved to them. “Checking out the lay of the land?” he called.
Whitey loped to greet them. “Are you settled in? We’re up and running.”
Reece glanced at a dozen, oversized tents in a circle near the shore. Just as Wedge had said, there were bathroom facilities near the tree line. Stones rimmed fire pits with smoke rising from each of them in front of the tent openings. Coffee pots hung from hooks. Metal racks held steaks over others. They sizzled over hot embers. Bean pots nestled in gleaming embers, and cast-iron skillets sat on top of trestles.
