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There were a couple of moments between surgeries and oxygen tents when the doctors thought they could pull Jacob through, but the hope didn’t last long. He died a week after we buried Daniel. The magick that had hurt him had basically been the only thing keeping all the damage together, and with Simon gone, all the protection had gone away—like pulling a knife out of a stabbing victim when the blade was all that kept him from bleeding out.
At least I was there when he went, though all the medication they gave him prevented me from getting to talk to him the way I’d done with Daniel.
I didn’t know whether to be grateful or angry, as I spent most of that final week numb.
His service was smaller than the massive ordeal that the police department had put on for Daniel. I leaned against the cane I now needed to walk, hunkered beneath an umbrella with Lucy, unable to think, much less say anything beyond a mumbled thank you to those who came to say their goodbyes.
Esther was having nightmares, and after my second visit, when she ran into a corner and cried at the sight of me, Sera asked me to give her some time, some space. She had seen me kill Simon, and her nightmares were full of scary wolves and snakes fighting.
My last sanctuary was gone.
The police processing the crowd at the warehouse found Edward among them. Jareth, bless his heart, made a point of turning him in for kidnapping Esther. No one liked bad guys who hurt kids, even the rough and tumble prison inmates, and I heard through the grapevine that he found that out rather early on in his stay.
While he was in jail, Sera served him with divorce papers. The same grapevine whispered that she did it herself, and punched him in the face for good measure. Hell hath no fury like a pissed off Delante girl.
I didn’t go back to the precinct, not after the funeral, when everyone, intentional or not, gave me a polite but wide berth. Monster. I could hear it, though that was probably more my guilt than their belief. Ethan left a message that the counseling was working, that I was welcome whenever I was ready, but I think we both knew that bridge had been burned.
One of the tabloids printed a story about me, a horrid nasty affair about being a danger to the population. So much for the part where I saved a few dozen lives. Stupid media.
More people had read it than I realized. I was grateful for online grocery services to avoid all those stares, but the story had taken away my safe havens—bookstores and coffee shops I had once frequented—corrupted by the sensationalized story.
My life was over.
Mostly.
I still ran my wolf, and our trips grew longer. It made carrying things difficult, but Lucy fashioned me a satchel that held my essentials, like a cell phone—at her insistence—and my wallet. Oh, and a sundress and a pair of those foldable shoe things, so I’d have clothes wherever I ended up.
No matter how far I ran, however, I always came home to all that pain, echoed by the men who had died because of me. They haunted me, but not literally—I could’ve lived with that—just their memories imprinted on every square inch.
Then one late night, I got a phone call.
“Magick Queen of Baltimore, I think I need you.”
I sat up on the couch. “Seth?”
“Yeah, seems I got myself into a bit of a bind down here in Arizona, and I could use your expertise.”
I lay back down. “Seth, I don’t solve mysteries anymore.”
He whistled. “Oh, I think you’re going to want to look into this one.”
“Seth.”
“The authorities here think I killed your father.”
I sat back up. “That’s not possible. He’s been dead for years. Decades.”
He paused, and I could almost hear the shrug over the phone. “Yeah, the body in the morgue says otherwise.”
I scrambled for something to write on. “Where are you?”
“Sierra Vista.”
—-THE END—-
But... don’t stop here. Please keep reading for more, including our Bonus Content—not just one, but two Special Sneak Previews:
WHISPERS OF THE SIDHE by C.L. Roberts-Huth
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WHISPERS IN THE SHADOWS by Jason LaVelle
