The noise of police swarming the shack was nearly deafening, and it didn’t help that Maryanne screamed like a lunatic while they tried to restrain her. Hanna sat motionless—she couldn’t manage much else.
“Hanna!”
The wolf growled when Owen came near and an officer behind him pointed his gun.
“Don’t touch him!” she yelled, throwing her arms around the wolf protectively.
“Stand down!” Owen shouted. “Hanna,” he said, his voice soft. “Are you all right? I need to get you outside.”
Hanna didn’t move. She was determined not to leave the wolf. “Hanna, I need you to get up and come with me.”
“No,” she said fiercely.
She heard footsteps coming closer and turned her head a fraction to see the police still had their weapons drawn, despite Owen’s order to stand down.
“Tell them to get out of here!” she yelled.
Owen waved a hand at them and they grudgingly lowered their weapons. “Give us a minute,” he said, glancing at Maryanne. “Get her out of here.”
They dragged the still thrashing girl out of the house. It was eerily quiet without the walls echoing her screams.
“Hanna—”
“No one is touching him,” she said, her voice cold and set with unwavering grit.
“Hanna, if he’s hurt, then he has to get help.” He stretched out a hand. “You have to come with me so William can get him out of here.”
She didn’t believe him. “William is here? I want to see him.”
Owen sighed, moving to the open door and leaning out, his arm beckoning. A moment later, William rushed through the door, his eyes frantic.
“He saved me!” she cried, the tears falling. “I’m so sorry, William. He’s hurt . . .”
“It’s all right.” William wrapped a soothing arm around her as he kneeled next to them. The wolf whined and pressed his head to William’s chest. “Wyatt will be all right.”
“Is that his name?” she asked and William nodded.
They stayed quiet a moment, Hanna’s arms still wrapped around Wyatt and William’s arms embracing them both.
“Hanna,” Owen said. “Come with me. They’ll be okay.”
Numbly, Hanna agreed, and Owen helped her to her feet. He barked orders at the other officers as they exited the shack. Police cars, ambulances, and even ATVs were all squeezed into the small dirt driveway. She guessed from the dark and the dewy chill that it was probably four o’clock in the morning. Several cops were dusting Billy’s truck for fingerprints. She walked by slowly, watching them as she was directed to an ambulance. Someone had draped a wool blanket around her shoulders, but she was in such a dreamlike state that she’d barely noticed. Owen left her at an ambulance with the promise he would check on William and the wolf and be right back.
As she watched dozens of police officers walk back and forth outside, she felt another surge of guilt. Everyone was here for her. Her lip began to shake and she bit it hard enough to bleed. She didn’t want to think about it. She didn’t want to be awake.
Unfortunately, it didn’t look as if she’d get a chance to sleep anytime soon. Instead, a man she recognized as Detective Morris handed her a cup of coffee and began asking her questions, about what she’d done the night before and why she left her house without a car. He asked her every question and made sure he covered every detail.
The sky changed from impenetrable darkness to a deep gray overcast. She looked around and noticed it was still raining. She tried to focus on Detective Morris’s questions, but it was difficult, especially when she saw the gurneys being pushed into the shack.
“He killed him,” she said softly, interrupting Detective Morris’s questioning.
“Who is ‘he,’ and who was killed?” he asked, flipping past several pages of his notepad.
“Billy Hertz. He killed the farmer and his wife the first time they took me. I saw him and his brother gun them both down, but I just never remembered. I blocked it all out. That’s why they kidnapped me in the first place, and why they came back for me last night. They wanted to make sure I never linked them to the murders. It was bad enough they were convicted in my kidnapping.”
Detective Morris was speechless. Luckily, another voice grabbed their attention and broke the silence.
“Sir, we need to take her to a hospital,” a female officer said. “Her grandparents are waiting.”
“I’m not finished questioning her,” Morris said. “Damn it, where’s Peirce?”
“Here, sir,” Owen said, showing up at the detective’s side. “What do you need?”
“Ride with her and finish the questioning,” he said, turning to her. “You understand that we have to go over it all now while everything is fresh in your mind, correct?”
“Yes, Detective,” she said.
“Good. Peirce? Get her out of here.”
Owen nodded and helped her into the ambulance. She hesitated at first because she hated ambulances, not to mention that she didn’t want someone checking her for bruises while riding on bumpy roads. After some negotiating, it was decided that her physical could wait until she got to the hospital and Owen would sit in the back with her, without anyone else. The medical examiner seemed slighted by this, but climbed out of the back without much protest.
When the doors closed and they were finally alone, the ambulance lurched forward. The glow around Owen, though faint, was still visible, and Hanna gazed in awe of it. Although, now that she thought of it, hadn’t Owen always looked slightly different from everyone else in New Hope? Sure, he was good-looking and charming, but Hanna had always assumed he looked different because he came from the city and was worldly. Now, looking at him, she realized he’d always had a glow surrounding him.
“Owen,” she said slowly. “You’re glowing.”
He smirked and shook his head, as if trying to shake off the glow itself.
“Why do we have these auras? And how come I’m just noticing them?”
“Well, before me, you blocked out ever seeing them. I think you might have pushed them off as a light trick or cloudy contacts. The thing is, I don’t really know. There’s a myth our kind uses to explain them, but it’s too unbelievable.”
“Try me,” she said.
Owen smiled.
“All right. There were once three sisters, one of whom is known by many different names, but we call her the Godmother.”
“As in—”
“Don’t say it,” he interrupted quickly. “The story goes that these sisters were practitioners of the occult. The middle sister had a son, and she named the elder sister his Godmother. The other sister was not pleased with this decision, growing so angry that she swore vengeance on the elder sister who had stolen a title she saw as rightfully hers.
“For years, the two fought as their wrath and magical abilities grew. As the nephew became a young man, he began to collect stories from the nearby towns and countries that surrounded their homeland. The Godmother chose to embellish these tales with a new character, a woman with the power to overcome evil. Well, that didn’t sit well with the other sister, who added a character who couldn’t be taken down by anyone. The Godmother cast a spell to make all characters visible by an unnatural glow, a halo, to warn the heroes of these stories. The good would shine with brilliant colors, while the bad would glow with ominous light. And so, as it was in the stories, it was in real life. The two sisters had immersed so much of themselves in their nephew’s stories that they became the stories, and it rendered them immortal.”
“So, somewhere in the world, there are two sisters still battling it out?”
“Not in this world, the normal world, but somewhere in our world, in some far corner behind the shadows lives the Godmother, and you better believe that on the opposite side of the world lives the Other.” Owen smiled then and shook his head. “But that’s just an old wives’ tale.”
“But aren’t we?” she asked and his smile faltered. “Who are you, Owen?”
“Owen Peirce, deputy of the New Hope Police Department, Michigan,” he recited. “But that’s not the me you’re referring to, is it?”
“Owen, my head feels like it’s splitting in two. Please,” she said, closing her eyes as she pinched the bridge of her nose. “Who are you?”
“Prince Charming,” he said, wincing. “At least, I’m the great-great-grandson of Prince Charming.”
Hanna looked at him, her mouth hanging open with surprise.
“I know, it’s ridiculous, but that’s where I get the glow.”
“Is that what William meant when you two were fighting? About the white horse and being charming?”
“Yes.”
“But what did he mean about an old grudge?”
“A friend of mine betrayed me and my family several years ago, and William was involved,” Owen said. “There’s been bad blood between us ever since.”
The glow around Owen was much different than William’s. His was almost blinding now, and she bet it was because, in a way, he’d just saved a damsel in distress. She almost smiled.
“William asked me before if I noticed your glow. I can’t believe I never realized.” She paused. “Can everyone see it?”
“No. The only people who notice it are others like us,” he said. “Gram can see it, barely. That’s why you can. Because your relation is through her ancestry.”
She’d suspected for a while who she was related to from the old stories, but hadn’t said it out loud. It seemed beyond real, and she didn’t want to believe it for the simple reason that she didn’t want to be any more of a freak than she already was.
“You have to know by now, Hanna,” Owen said, his eyes on her.
“I know,” she said softly. “But it’s so bizarre. I mean, what are we? We glow, I’m living a nightmare, William’s . . .” she trailed off. The thought of William and his bleeding wolf hurt her heart and tears welled up in her eyes. “I mean, there doesn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason to any of it.”
“I know, kid,” Owen said. “It seems like it doesn’t make sense but, generally, we tend to have similar qualities and experiences as our ancestors.”
“How do you know all this, Owen?”
He fell silent for a moment, bringing his hands together in thought. He looked deeply conflicted and she was worried about what he might say.
“Hanna, I wasn’t adopted by your aunt and uncle,” he confessed slowly. He took a deep breath and exhaled while she watched, wide-eyed. “We’re descendants of folktale characters, right? Well, my family was aware of this, and it was something we knew and talked about on a regular basis. We were comfortable, even proud of our identities and the fact that the past didn’t dictate our futures. We were, again, comfortable. Why wouldn’t we be? We were related to one of the most wealthy, happy, and beloved characters that ever existed. We never really had to deal with the ugly side of it, because everyone was comfortable.”
By the third time he said comfortable, Hanna got the feeling he was anything but.
“I grew up accepting these things as a reality, but for those who didn’t, it’s hard to believe, especially in the world today. Magical kingdoms and fairies who tell tales don’t exist anymore, but we’re still here, telling the same stories over and over again.”
She was quiet a moment, thinking. “So, just because William’s ancestors were murderers, you thought he was as well? But you just saw the real murderers.”
Owen looked ashamed and at the same time convinced he was right. “It’s what I’ve always been told, Hanna,” he said.
“What do you mean? What’s so wrong about the Vanns?”
“William’s father, while not ever found guilty of any crimes, is still a crooked businessman. I’ve been raised to hate the Vanns and others like them. My friend grew up from a similar story, and I ignored the warnings. He turned out as evil as the rest of them.” She saw a pained expression pass over his face at the mention of his former friend. “It’s not like I want William to be the bad guy. I just know he’s capable.”
A thought occurred to her. “How did you find me?”
He avoided her gaze.
“Owen.”
He looked back at her and sighed. “I knew William’s family was connected with wolves. He came to the station, and when we found out you’d been taken, he said his wolf would take us there. The animal traveled faster than us—he could cut through the forest—but William knew where he was every minute.”
She glared at him reproachfully. “And you still think he’s evil?”
“I’m sorry, all right?” he said, throwing up his hands. “You’re right. If you hadn’t met William, if your stories hadn’t combined, then you’d be six feet under right now and not riding in this ambulance.”
He leaned in, suddenly very serious. “Listen to me, kid. Regardless of all that’s happened with William, he is still a member of a very dark family. I don’t want to tell you how to live your life, but I think you’d be risking a lot by continuing to see him.”
“But the Hertzes are gone. My story is over,” she said, shaking her head. “I don’t have to worry about any more interference ruining my life.”
“These stories don’t control our destinies, Hanna, but they do mold them. I was supposed to fall in love with a girl whose great-great-grandmother lost a glass shoe a few hundred years ago,” he said. “But it’s not going to turn out that way.”
A shadow of a smile passed over Owen’s face and for the first time in all her time of knowing him, she realized she didn’t know him at all. She wanted to know his whole story.
“But see?” he said. “Your life can’t be dictated by once upon a time. If you love a mysterious wolf-man, then you can’t help that. But, will his story will accept you?”
She managed a smile in return.
“Who lives like that? Not doing things because of what might happen?” Her words echoed Carly’s thoughts from that day in the mall. “Where did they go? William and Wyatt, I mean,” she asked. Surely all those officers wouldn’t have let William just leave with a giant wolf at his heels.
“They’ll be all right. William’s family arrived yesterday to oversee the rest of the Vo-Tech project. I’m sure their wolves aren’t far behind. Mr. Vann will make sure William and his wolf get to where they need to be.”
Hanna leaned against the wall of the ambulance, relieved. She was silent the rest of the way, lost in thought. William had probably read every story ever told about evil wolves, and besides a handful of mythologies, they were mostly portrayed in a bad light. But after something like tonight, how could he still think he was bad? He could never be anything but a prince to her now.
After arriving at the hospital, several EMTs and nurses crowded around Hanna as Owen moved away quietly, talking into his phone. She protested a wheelchair at first, finally conceding at Owen’s pleading look. She thought about the friend he mentioned. If William wasn’t bad, perhaps there were others. Maybe his friend’s story wasn’t over yet.
“Owen!” she called as she was wheeled toward the hospital doors.
“Yeah, kid?” he said, looking up at her, his phone still up to his ear.
“What was your friend’s name?” she asked. “The one who betrayed you?”
“Roderick,” he said, a look of confusion on his face. “Why?”
“Maybe he needs a second chance,” she said as the glass doors closed.
The hospital staff made sure she had no internal bleeding or head injuries and set her up in her own room. Gram and Grandpa were shown in minutes later, both near collapsing with relief at the sight of her. She was surprised to learn that her parents were coming—they’d already landed in Los Angeles—but she kept it to herself. She was glad they were coming, even if it had taken a near fatal kidnapping.
A nurse came in and gave her a sedative. “To help you rest,” she explained with a smile before leaving.
She slept without dreaming and could have stayed that way for years. When she groggily opened her eyes, the room was dark and still, with only the faint beeping of the machines and hallway lights disturbing her sleep. She tried to change her position, stopping when she felt eyes on her.
Slowly, she looked around the room and noticed that she was, in fact, being watched. She grabbed the bedside control and turned on her overhead light. A tall, middle-aged man in a suit grinned at her, his eyes bright, and she knew him instantly from his picture.
“Hello,” he said after several uncomfortable seconds of silence. “I’m Mr. Vann.”