by Haley Weir
“The four of us have it handled.”
Charlotte shook her head. “You don’t get it, do you? It isn’t just the four of you anymore, Wesley. We were brought here for a reason. We have skills of our own, ones that were given to us to help you fight this war.”
“If what you did in town is what your help looks like, then I don’t want it.”
She flinched back, hurt beyond reason. “That is what you think of me, Wesley? Do you truly believe that I could harm someone if I had any choice? They attacked me, and I tried to warn them, but they would not listen.” Charlotte hated the tears that burned in her eyes. “Ethan was there. He had his claws in me and he toyed with me like I was some sort of instrument and not a real person. I was terrified!”
“You can’t deny that you hurt people.”
“People who were trying to hurt me. Why can’t you see that?” Charlotte grabbed a few of her things that had dried and left Wesley standing at the center of the room. She headed into one of the bedchambers and changed her clothes. Charlotte braided her hair back and left the house without sparing a second glance over her shoulder. If Wesley did not trust her, then why had he married her? She was confused and hurt.
Charlotte led Wind Bearer into the forest and searched for Itsá’s camp. He glanced up from the fire as she approached and smiled sadly. It was as if he knew why she had come to him. “He will learn to see you for who you are and not what you are.”
“What makes you so certain that there is a difference?”
“Is there not?” he asked slyly. “I can change my body so that I can fly like an eagle, but that does not make me an eagle. I am called a shaman, but a shaman is not who I am...it is merely what I do. My name is Itsá, but that is only because it makes it easier to know me. Who I am is the very thing that gives the eagle, the shaman, and the name its meaning. Without my spirit behind the words, they serve no purpose.”
“I wish I could believe something like that.”
“Why have you come here, Charlotte?” he said with that same grin upon his face. “It is not to discuss one’s purpose in life. So, tell me.”
“I’m lost. Who I was before I traveled west is gone. The Charlotte that I fought so hard to protect is dead.” She sat opposite him, poking a stick into the glowing embers. “I love a man who will never love me equally, I hurt people, and I use magic that I only ever dared to dream of. I’m not sure if I like the new Charlotte.”
“You must decide if you are willing to live with that part of yourself or if you must force it into submission. Only then will you know peace.”
Charlotte pulled her knees to her chest and sighed. “I need your help, Itsá. I don’t want to hurt anyone. I saw fear in Wesley’s eyes when he looked at me. Perhaps he is right and witches should not be trusted. After what happened...I…”
Itsá set aside the piece of wood he had been whittling and met Charlotte’s gaze. “My sister was a witch. Like your ancestors, she was killed for her power. They hanged her and then burned her body as if her spirit did not deserve to linger in this world. Like my people have faced for centuries, you will face hatred and fear. But do not let these things break you.”
Charlotte was invited to stay with Itsá until she learned to control her power. She agreed and went about tidying the small camp as he hunted in the forest for food. Her heart remained with Wesley, but part of her yearned for Itsá’s friendship. He understood the parts of her that others had chosen to overlook. Charlotte struggled with the idea that Wesley had so readily accepted Beth’s companionship, but had shunned hers.
~*~
Wesley struggled to rein in his anger as Sam informed him of Charlotte’s whereabouts. She was his wife, and yet she felt safer with Itsá than she had with him. His boots thundered as he rushed down the stairs. Jesse and Sam grabbed him by the arms and forced him back before he could run out the front door. Beth lounged across the settee, tossing a knife into the air before catching it. “You know this is your fault again, right?” she scoffed.
“How the hell do you figure that?”
“I told you she was growing stronger, and Jesse nearly talked both of our ears off about you not taking care of Charlotte the way you should have been doing,” Beth replied impassively. “She was taken by the Wendigo Spirit and then tortured by witches. How did you think this was going to end? You left her here while you ran off with us, and she finally snapped.”
“What would you know about it?”
“I know my fair share about torture, Wesley James.” Beth bounced off of the couch and stood toe to toe with the skinshifter. Wesley knew that, despite her short stature, Beth could handle all of them in a fight. It was impressive. “You buttered her up, married her, and then you went on your merry way thinking she was just going to sit around and wait for you.”
“I never said that.”
“You didn’t have to. The way you avoided her was proof enough.”
Jesse nodded his head as though he agreed with Beth, and Wesley threw his arms up into the air. “Does nobody believe that I had Charlotte’s best interests in mind when I started these hunts? Everything I do is for her. I would not even be standing in this room if she hadn’t saved me.”
Beth’s eyebrows lifted, and she glared at Wesley until he squirmed beneath the fury of her gaze. “You mean to tell me that you married Charlotte because you felt like you owed her?” She shoved against his chest, and he stumbled back. Jesse got in between Beth and Wesley before a fight broke out, but she did not back down. “Did she get the mark, Wesley? The one that says she’s your mate, or did you even care to check while you were taking her clothes off?”
“Hey!” Jesse shouted. “That’s not fair, Beth. You don’t know how they feel about—”
“She’s right.” Wesley’s admission cut off Jesse’s words, and he stared into the disgusted faces of his companions. “Most of what I did for Charlotte was out of my own selfishness. First, I led her to believe that I felt something for her, and then I left. After she saved me, I started to see her in a different light. I never thought it would get this out of hand.”
“You...don’t love her?”
“I never said that,” he argued. “I love Charlotte, and I can’t stand the thought of losing her, but I don’t know if what I feel is because she’s my mate or because she’s Charlotte.” Wesley glanced at Sam and Jesse. “Neither of you can say that if Beth were your mate, you would not have questions too. How can any of us be absolutely sure that what we’re doing is the right thing?”
“Because I know it is.” Heads whipped around to look at Boone as he hung up his hat. He dropped the sheriff’s badge onto the table and sauntered over. “Ya’ll seem to be forgettin’ that I’ve already been through all of this. It ain’t somethin’ you can control, so stop tryin’. Fightin’ it only makes it worse. I fell hard for Abigail before I even knew more than her first name.”
“You and Abbey ain’t me and Charlotte.”
“You’re right, we ain’t,” Boone agreed. “But since meetin’ my wife, I know what love looks like when I see it. And I know you can make it through anythin’ if you try hard enough.”
Beth pointed to the badge on the table. “Hanging up your morals or just the star? Because what we’ve been doing might not sit well with you, Boone.”
“Everyone on this ranch is my family. And I think you all must underestimate what I’m willin’ to do for my family. The mayor got the new sheriff to come in just in time. I’m ready to go whenever you are, and I’m sure Abigail feels the same.”
Wesley looked around at his friends and felt as though he had been blind for many years. He had everything he needed...except Charlotte. “Nah, we don’t need Abigail when we hit that train. We need her here in case one of us gets pelted with lead.”
Chapter Sixteen
Colorado Territory
Charlotte stood on the edge of the canyon, staring down the ridge.
Itsá was beside her with his large wings spread. “Take the leap
, Charlotte. Trust yourself.”
“You won’t let me die, will you?” she asked nervously. Her heart had never beat so fast. Her hands began to sweat, and Charlotte wondered if it might stop before she hit the bottom of the canyon. The cold wind did little to ease her nerves.
“You will not die because your powers will protect you,” he replied. “Take a deep breath and then exhale as you leap off the side. Do not hesitate, keep your eyes open, and face the impending danger. Allow your instincts to flow through you.”
Charlotte nodded her head and did what Itsá instructed. She took a deep breath and released it as she stepped off the edge. Air rushed past her head. Charlotte flipped herself so that she was falling face down. Her hands braced as if to catch herself, but a pulse of energy rebounded between her hands and the ground. The shockwave slowed her descent. Itsá appeared beside Charlotte once more, and she smiled at the eagle shifter.
She used the energy to slow herself until her feet hit the ground. Every tiny piece of her essence vibrated. Charlotte dropped to her knees and tried to keep the nausea at bay. “That…that was mad!” she shouted. Her voice echoed through the canyon, and Itsá lifted his hand to quiet her. Charlotte followed his gaze to the small shadow on the ground. There was nothing surrounding them that could have caused it, which meant...the creature could blend in.
Charlotte climbed back to her feet. She lunged towards the shadow, and a rabbit appeared. It fell onto its side and feigned death until Itsá nudged it with his foot. The rabbit shifted into a native man with blue eyes and light brown hair. He lifted his hands in surrender. “I wasn’t doing anything!” the shifter squealed. He stood up and bowed to Charlotte in a very theatrical manner. “Gabriel Ikoa. At your service, ma’am.”
Charlotte was baffled by the native man who spoke in a voice that lacked the typical drawl of the region or—better yet—the thick accents often associated with the tribes. “Charlotte James.”
Gabriel smiled from ear to ear. “Pardon us for a moment, Mrs. James. My good friend Itsá and I have a few things to discuss.” Without missing a beat, he turned to Itsá and shouted, “For the love of all that is sacred, what did you do?”
Itsá flinched back.
Gabriel waved his hands around like a madman as if imploring Itsá to speak. “Don’t even try to convince me that this has nothing to do with those wolf pups of yours.”
“I thought you had died in the war. What are you doing here?” Itsá grabbed the younger-looking man by the back of the neck. “And remember that my kind eat rabbits. I should skin you alive right now just for—”
“Hey! Alright, hold up!” Gabriel swatted Itsá away and stood his ground. “I know it looked like I was dead, but it’s a long story, and I can’t get into it with you. In my defense, every time some end-of-the-world thing happens, it’s got your name written all over it. What are you meddling in this time?”
Charlotte could not help but smile at the man’s unorthodox way of speaking. She found it refreshing. Itsá gave her a droll expression. “Charlotte this is my younger brother, Gah.”
“I’m his half-brother. And it’s Gabriel now. It would be best if you attempted to blend in a little, Itsá. The world is changing, and you are certain to get left behind if you don’t.” Gabriel crossed his arms over his chest and tilted his head. “What I can’t figure out is why you’re getting in the middle of all this?”
“All of this?” Charlotte asked cautiously.
“My dear brother over there has a hankering for getting into the middle of very bad situations. Every time the world tries to end itself, he steps in,” Gabriel snorted and twirled around.
“How many times has something like this happened?”
“Once every few decades or so,” Itsá replied. “Humanity itself is a plague upon the planet. They are forgetting what it meant to live in harmony with the rest of the world.”
“How bad is it this time?”
Gabriel put his arm around her shoulder. “You don't know the half of it. The walls are falling, Charlotte. The future ain't lookin' too pretty right about now. There's talk of something called the Draoi breaking loose as the third dark spirit and taking everything in existence out in one fluid strike. What you’ve encountered so far with the wendigos is nothing compared to what’s coming. If this mess is just a leak in the wall, imagine what will happen when the entire thing comes crashing down!”
“How do we stop it?” she asked.
Itsá cut in. “He doesn’t know. The thing about rabbits is that they are terribly paranoid creatures that scare easily. My brother does not know what is to come. He hasn’t been gifted with foresight. What we must do now is gather our forces and see to it that the dark spirits are sent back into their cages.”
Charlotte thought about Ethan and the way he had taken control over her so easily. “I don’t think it’s as simple as it sounds, Itsá. We can barely keep track of the Wendigo Spirit. I am struggling to see how we can fight against three powerful entities.”
“You must not lose faith in yourself, Charlotte,” he cautioned. “It is your strength of will and the belief in yourself that will save you from his cruelty.”
~*~
The train raid had been a bust.
Somehow Ethan had found out about their plan before they even had time to put it into action. There were spies all around town, and Wesley no longer trusted anyone outside of their group. Abigail, Beth, Mary Ann, Sam, Boone, and Jesse sat around the table with Wesley. Their faces were covered in blood and dirt from the ambush. Nine men aside from all of them had boarded that train. Nearly three dozen passengers and workers were among them when the explosion sent the train rolling off the track.
Wendigos attacked from all sides and, with Itsá gone, they had no way of getting their hands on more of those blessed daggers like the one Beth carried. But Wesley knew he was the one to blame for that. If he had simply listened to Charlotte, she would not have run off with Itsá. He prayed each night that she hadn’t been captured again. But...at the same time, Wesley was glad that she hadn’t had to witness the carnage they had.
“What now?” Beth asked. She had one too many close calls while fighting the wendigos, and Jesse was showing a protectiveness that baffled everyone at the table. “There could be survivors. If anyone made it out of that wreck, it’s only a matter of time before they turn.”
“We can’t just keep hunting the wendigos,” Abigail argued. “The more we kill, the more he makes, and we’re terribly outnumbered. We could go with Sam’s plan and blow up the mines. We know that’s where they’ve been hiding, right?”
This time, it was Boone who shook his head. “If we attack the nest, the Wendigo Spirit will retaliate against the town, and even more innocent folks will get killed. I don’t think it’ll be worth the risk of losin’ one of us down there, either.”
Wesley scratched his chin and felt the dirt beneath his nails. His lip curled, and he kicked over the empty chair beside him, the chair that was meant for Charlotte. “We can’t kill the wendigos without more weapons, and we can’t kill the thing that controls him...but we know that the witches are human. Sam wounded one of them before they retreated.”
“How?” Beth asked. “None of our weapons worked against them.”
Everyone turned to Sam. He rolled his eyes and sat up straighter. “I used a mirror.”
“A mirror?”
“The one I injured had gotten into the house where the maids stayed. We got into a brawl and a mirror shattered. I used one of the large shards and cut her with it. She could not heal the wound and nearly bled out before the others came,” he explained. “I ain't too sure why it worked, but she was screamin' like a banshee when it cut her."
Wesley nodded to Beth and she followed him out to the servant's quarters. He waited outside as she searched for the broken mirror. Wesley watched the road and imagined Charlotte walking towards him. The vision was interrupted by Beth's return. "What did you find?"
"It wasn't the mirror
that hurt the witch."
"How do you know?"
She set the large mirror on the ground and then turned it over. A white symbol had been drawn across the back. "Your great grandfathers built this ranch with Boone's, right? Well, I don't know about you, but this looks like those symbols we found in that crypt."
"A witch helped them?"
"I'm not sure, but it looks that way."
Wesley and Beth showed the others what they discovered. Abigail recognized the symbol from Boone's great grandfather's journal. She scampered off to find the book and appeared with it a moment later. Her fingers flipped through the pages before landing on one. "Here it is. There's nothing written about it except for a name...Aani? Is that name familiar to any of you?"
Boone nodded slowly. "That was Itsá's sister. She died before he became a shaman. Settlers killed her because they suspected she was a witch."
"Anyone else startin' to see a pattern here?" Sam scoffed. "I'd wager we need Charlotte to cast some of her power onto a few rifles to level the battlefield a little bit more."
"How can Charlotte help if she isn't part of a tribe?"
Wesley gestured to himself. "Look at the four of us," he said. "None of us really look native, but we've got the blood in our veins. Perhaps Charlotte is the same."
"This still doesn't solve our problem." Beth stood up. "Charlotte needs to come back, and I don't think she will so long as Wesley don't apologize to her."
Jesse stepped away from the window for a moment and then stared at Wesley in shock. “Charlotte just rode into the stables with Itsá and another Apache man. I’ve never seen him before, but I think we better be prepared just in case.”
“Charlotte would not do anything to put the ranch in danger,” Wesley snapped.
