A Deadly Secret (The Deadly Series Book 2)

by R M Connor

  I looked up at her, the dread gripping me tighter. Esther’s chest rose and fell as she took in a deep breath. “Who would be helping him?”

  “I think the question is, who would need his help?”

  I didn’t know what else to say. I gathered my broom, deciding to walk back home. How was I supposed to break this news to Maisie? Harold had already told us our mother was maintaining the greenhouse, but how was that possible if she was locked away? Rubbing my temple, a headache forming, I just didn’t understand. She had gotten to Vargas, so maybe she had someone else, on her behalf, growing the Wolfsbane?

  Nothing made sense to me anymore.

  I walked inside the little cottage, hanging my jacket on the coat rack. I slid my boots off, my toes relieved to be out of their confines then padded through the house to Maisie’s door. I pushed it open. She was still asleep, her breathing soft. I hated to wake her up, but she needed to know everything the mayor had divulged. This was not something I felt I could keep from her.

  Sitting on the edge of her bed, I nudged her shoulder. She blinked groggily, looking at me, and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. “What’s wrong?” She sat up against the headboard.

  I took a deep breath. “She’s alive.”

  The corners of her mouth turned down. “Are you sure?”

  No, not really. I wouldn’t believe it until I saw her with my own eyes. I shook my head and shrugged. “I’m going to find out.”

  Maisie decided to go back to work for the evening shift, even after I assured her it would be okay for the café to stay closed one more day but she insisted and I didn’t argue. I had a feeling she needed something to help take her mind off the events that had transpired in the last twenty-four hours. But I had something I needed to do. One last thing before I could move on from the events of last week and digest the information I had learned if that were even possible.

  The automatic doors of the hospital swooshed open and I walked into the sterile waiting room. It was mostly empty, besides a mother and her little boy sitting against the far wall. I spotted the nurse who had helped me when the wolf had attacked. Ashley, I think her name was. Thank goodness I already knew the room Eugene was in, so I slinked away, hoping and praying she wouldn’t see me.

  The only problem—I was carrying a bright yellow “Get Well Soon” balloon. She turned her head, squinting as if trying to place me. I quickened my pace toward the double doors that led into the hallway where the patient rooms were.

  “Hey, Miss!” she called after me but the doors had shut and, whoops, I couldn’t hear her.

  Finding the room Eugene was in, I pushed the balloon through the door. Juggling the half-dozen muffins in my arms, I could still feel the warmth they generated through the bottom of the box. Moving the balloon out of my way, I stilled at the sight of Eugene. He was bruised and broken. His foot was held up in a sling and his leg wrapped in a white bandage. His skin was splotched in deep-purple bruises and his right eye was swollen shut.

  Ethan told me werewolves healed quickly, but he had not improved much since the night at Peaceful Acres. Perhaps his body had to deal with the internal effects of the poison before it could heal the other injuries. But he was alive. His body would heal, eventually.

  Eugene looked away from Michael, sitting next to the bed in a light-blue chair. A big grin spread across his face. “There you are!” He motioned for me to come closer.

  Officer Russell stood on the other side in plain clothes. I couldn’t keep the surprise off my face, having never seen him in anything but his uniform. He tipped his head in my direction. He and Michael moved away from the bed to give me some room. Russell clapped his hand on Michael’s shoulder. “Let’s give them a moment. I’ll buy you a coffee.”

  Coffee? I raised a brow at Russell. Wow, another surprise. The corners of his lips twitched, and he pulled an unopened tea bag from his pocket. I should’ve known better. Michael mouthed a “thank you.” He wrapped his arms around my shoulders in a tight hug before leaving with Russell.

  Setting the muffins on the tray near Eugene’s bed, I let go of the balloon. The weight attached to the string drifted to the floor. Eugene reached his hand out, and I placed my smaller one in his.

  “I owe you.” He patted my hand gently.

  Tears clouded my vision, and I choked back a laugh. “I’m just glad you’re alive.”

  Eugene grunted. “Whatever was in that nasty drink,”—he shrugged—“well, it brought me back.” He kissed the top of my hand before letting it go to reach for the box of muffins. “Michael said you were working on a spell to help find me.”

  Wolves could smell a witch, I had to remind myself. Even with this knowledge, it felt strange to be open about what I was and what I could do. I gave Eugene a weak smile. “He never stopped looking for you.”

  “Michael is a good kid.” Eugene took a bite from the top of a lemon-blueberry muffin. I didn’t know what his favorite muffin was, so there were six different flavors.

  I took the seat Michael had been in, and I watched him for a moment. He closed his eyes as he took another bite, mumbling something about the horrible cafeteria food. He peeked at me. “What’s on your mind?”

  “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Of course.” He pulled the rest of the paper from the bottom of the muffin and laid it on the tray.

  “When you were at The Witches Brew working on the ovens”—the chair squeaked as I leaned forward—“I overheard you telling Michael things had changed.”

  Eugene stopped eating. He swallowed and set the muffin down.

  “What did you mean?” I watched him closely as he dusted crumbs from his blanket.

  He straightened up as much as his broken leg would allow. “You weren’t supposed to hear that,” he muttered under his breath.

  Sighing, I placed my hand on the bed and looked into his eyes. “What has changed? Were you talking about Vargas?”

  Eugene licked his lips and he shook his head. I noticed the numbers on the machine monitoring his blood pressure were rising. “Vargas was only a pawn.”

  I had figured as much. “Who was manipulating him?”

  Eugene glanced around the room. He licked his lips. I had never seen Eugene squirm before.

  “Please tell me. I can’t deal with any more secrets.”

  His eyes finally landed on me. He took in a deep breath. “For twenty-eight years, this town managed to keep what we are a secret from the outside world. We had no issues, no serious crime. Wildewood was a safe town for . . . non-humans. We kept to ourselves, and only ever went to Twin Falls for things that couldn’t be found here,” Eugene paused, his lips thinned and he looked at me. “We always knew one day the Wildewoods would return.”

  There it was. “And now? Now that we’re back?” What shift could our return have caused?

  “You girls weren’t what we were worried about.”

  My stomach dropped. “Who then?”

  Eugene exhaled and leaned his head back, staring at the ceiling. His silence, though only a few seconds, became maddening.

  “Dammit, Eugene!” I pounded my fist on the bed, my patience depleted. “Is my mom back in town?” Could she have been released or have escaped?

  Eugene swallowed audibly. “I’m not sure.”

  I buried my head in my hands and let out a frustrated cry. “Esther told me she was locked away in Twin Falls, the same place Vargas went to. Do you know if she’s still there?”

  He licked his lips, nodding. “I paid her a visit after Sasha passed.”

  The door to the room opened before I had a chance to digest what he said. Michael stepped inside and glanced between the two of us, worry nestling between his brows in a deep crease. I stood, deciding it was time for me to leave before I fell apart. I gave Michael a small smile, though it took every ounce of effort. I wrapped my arms around my torso, glancing back at Eugene.

  “Will you take me to see her?” If he wouldn’t, I’d find out myself where exactly this place was.
But it would be a lot easier with some help.

  “Riley, no.” Eugene shook his head.

  “You said you owe me.” I licked my suddenly dry lips and hugged myself tighter, trying to suppress the shaking of my shoulders. “I’ll give you time to heal, but you will take me to her.” I walked out of the room, my pace quickening down the hallway the further I got. Right before the double doors, John Russell stood beside a trash can, throwing his tea bag into it.

  “Riley?” He glanced up at me, but I kept walking, afraid to answer in case the almost thirty years of pain were to rush out.

  I could no longer contain the shaking of my shoulders, my vision blurred with tears that traveled down my cheeks, wetting my jacket. I didn’t even bother to wipe them away. What was the point? The dam had broken. I hiked back to town, not wanting to use the cab service available at the hospital. Maybe by the time I got to the café, to Maisie, I would regain my composure.

  But as I walked into the café, and Maisie looked up at me from behind the register, all the hurt came out in a cry and I shattered, falling to my knees. Maisie ran to me and put her hands on either side of my face, raising it so I had to look at her.

  “Is she . . .” her voice failed as a single tear ran down her cheek.

  I swallowed, nodding my head.

  Our mother was alive.

  To be continued . . .

  Big shout out to my friends and family for supporting me through the various stages of book two.

  To my husband, thank you for being brave enough to tell me the issues you found in the first draft. I think I handled it ‘relatively’ well . . .Without you, chasing my dreams would be even more difficult. I love you to the Pegasus galaxy and back!

  To Terri, thank you for being a speed reader and helping me as much as you have!

  To my betas, you guys rock! I am so appreciative of the time you took out of your days to read A Deadly Secret. Thank you from the bottom of my heart!

  To my children (especially the little ones), because of all four of you, I’ve learned to tune out A LOT of noise and write during chaos.

  R.M. Connor lives in Georgia with her handsome hubby and their four children. She has been a writer since her early teens and has always dreamed of becoming a published author. She spends her days chasing small children and daydreaming about her books. She loves metal, rock music, carnivorous plants and is a huge Trekkie.

  Follow her to stay up to date for the next book of The Deadly Series

  Instagram: @R.M.Connor_writes

  Facebook: R.M. Connor

  Website: www.rmconnor.com