Black Moon (21 page)

With that, I release my hold on time.

Via my parents’ minds, and the minds of Jana, Blake, and others in the room, I see Alaric raise his hand, fingers curled, palm facing my parents. The two of them are standing ahead of everyone else. I hope they didn’t lose their sanity and sacrifice themselves for the good of us. No, my parents wouldn’t do that. They love me, yes, but they know how much we value their help.

Alaric smiles, just a twitch at the corner of his mouth. “Since you won’t tell me where she is, it seems I’ll have to . . . draw it out of you.”

Mom and Dad, and the others, stay silent.

“Very well, then,” he says. A blinding-white flash explodes from Alaric’s hand, and everything on my end dims to nothing.

Chapter Fourteen

N
o, no, no. That didn’t happen. I dart through the others’ minds, but they’re all the same—dark and void. I have to reach them somehow. I have to know they’re okay. But I can’t do that unless my strength returns.

I pull myself off the ground, stagger a little, but regain my composure long enough to wipe my tear-stained cheeks and stumble back to Maggie’s. It’s a long walk for someone who can barely take two steps forward. I, however, don’t have much of a choice; I need food to salvage energy.

Barely through the front door, I collapse, completely dead weight. Maggie fusses, but my brain is too nebulous to process the words coming out of her mouth. I’m picked up and carried to the guest room, where Ben places me on the bed he recuperated in. Even his face is disfigured through my eyes. Moments later, a cold, metallic object—which my head clearly states must be a spoon—is pressed to my lips, warm broth sliding off its surface, coating my tongue and throat. The process of depositing tepid liquid into my mouth is repeated until I regain partial vigor.

“I’m returning the favor,” he says, dipping the spoon into the soup once more.

I frown as my vision becomes less hazy, sharper. “We were even when I helped you out of the last fight.”

He smirks and says, “Eat,” as he lifts the spoon to my lips again.

Then I remember what happened, why I’m back here, and, like a microburst in a thunderstorm, my tears become a drenching downpour.

Ben sets the bowl on the nightstand and leans toward me, one hand holding him up, the other wiping away my tears. “
Sssh
. It’ll be all right.”

I shake my head slowly. “No, it won’t. Not this time. He did something to them.”

“I know,” he says. “I don’t have access to my family’s minds, either. But you need to rest so we can figure out our next plan of action.”

Gulping away the sore lump in my throat, I ask, “What if they’re . . .
dead
?”

“He wouldn’t do that. You have what he wants and he’ll use them as bait before murder.” Cringing, he adds, “Not saying he will for sure, but . . . you know . . .”

Contemplating my parents’ deaths, even the deaths of Randy and Beth, Jana and Blake, causes my heart to bloat with emotion, and my eyes to sting with even more tears. Every time a droplet slides down my cheek, Ben brushes it away with his thumb. He doesn’t speak, but I wish he would; the silence isn’t bearable. When my eyes have nearly dried up, Ben dips his head, his lips stirring mine in a sincere, drawn-out kiss.

As he pulls away, I sniffle and ask, “What happened to you? I mean, after I escaped.”

“You mean after you killed Ali,” he states outright. His face is as blank as his voice, but somewhere inside, I know he’s hurt by my actions. He did love her once.

“Yeah, after that.”

He sighs. “I woke up, you were gone, and my parents thought it was best to keep our minds blocked for a short time—something about you being an outcast and disgrace to the werewolf community. So, they cast a spell.”

Confirmation of what I already knew. “Thought so,” I say. “Is there a way to undo the spell so we can telepathically speak again?”

He shrugs. “If there is, I don’t know about it.” Seeing me distraught, he links his fingers with mine. “Hey, we’ll find a way around this. Promise.”

“It doesn’t make sense,” I say, staring up into his dark eyes. “Why would he hurt your family when he’s after me? And wouldn’t your family want you to stay linked to me, so they know where I am at all times?”

Ben sits back, unclasping our hands. “I guess I haven’t really thought about it.”

“Well, if anyone would know, it’s Maggie.”

He glances over his shoulder, toward the bedroom door. “Can you walk?”

“I think so.”

Ben stands to give me room so I can slide off the bed. Without waiting, he slides one arm around my waist, guiding me toward the kitchen. Maggie finishes tying the last of her herbs and hangs them in the nook of the kitchen window as we enter. She turns to face us when Ben pulls out a chair at the table and sets me in it. He half-leans, half-stands next to me, arms crossed.
 

“Good to see you two are rested,” she mumbles. “Maybe now you can go about your business and let me be.”

“Maggie,” I begin, ignoring another of her usual harsh statements, “we need to know why Al—why
he
would use magic on both of our families, not just mine. I thought he was on their side.” I cut my eyes toward Ben.

“Ancients don’t pick sides,” she answers gruffly. “If he wanted to end you, he would. All of you, for that matter. Don’t ever think you’re safe from any of them.”

“Does the same apply for you?” Ben blatantly asks, which earns a glower from Maggie. But that’s expected, coming from her.

“I helped the two of you, didn’t I? So, why are you
askin
’ me foolish questions you already know the answer to?” She turns around to face the sink, picking up a washrag and wiping off the countertop.

Since she’s not answering questions about Alaric’s motives toward both of our families, I decide to press another issue.

“Maggie, who did you think I was when I barged in earlier?”

Her cleaning slows, but resumes to normal; if I hadn’t been paying attention, I wouldn’t have noticed the pause.

“Child, there are some things in this world that are none of your concern.”

I cross my legs, linking my fingers together and resting them on my knee. “Look, Maggie, I know you don’t like getting involved in this hoopla, but I think Ben and I have been through enough for one day, probably a lifetime. We deserve to know answers.”

She slams her fist down on the counter with a loud
thwack
. “I’m not your personal internet search box! If you want these answers so badly, you need to figure them out for yourselves. Stop
askin
’ for my help.”

Maggie knows about Google? I should slap myself. Of course she does; she’s an Ancient.

I steady my nerves, my voice. “No, of course not. Nobody said you were, but Ben and I have obviously been left in the dark somewhere; otherwise, we wouldn’t be questioning you.”

“Maggie,” Ben speaks up, “if I may . . .”

I signal for him to continue before Maggie opposes.

He clears his throat. “Um, I’ve overheard conversations between my family and
him
. He spoke of uniting several Ancients so they can overpower the rest of us, and, ultimately, conquer the planet.” Ben grumps. “I know that sounds cliché, but he’s not the type to joke around. If this is what he’s planning, then there’s no way we can stop him. He and his buddies will be too powerful.”

Maggie never shifts her position, but replies, “I know nothing about it.”

Why is she withholding information when she knows our families’ lives are at stake? It’s
so
obvious the way she refuses to look us in the eye.

Unable to congest the words, I blurt, “You’re lying. That’s why you were pissed—you thought I was him, paying you a visit.”

She whirls around to face me. “I’m doing nothing of the sort! How dare you come into my house and accuse me of such things after all I’ve done for you.”

“You can yell and scream all you want, Maggie, but I can tell you’re lying because you avoid the questions,” I say, coolly. No use egging her.

“Has it ever occurred to you that maybe, just maybe, I don’t want to be interrogated in my own damn house?” She asks, pointing her index finger toward the ceiling and giving it a good shake. Eyes enlarged with anger, she continues, “And maybe you two deserve what’s coming for you. It’s your fault, after all, for walking into this mess. Both of your families are as stupid as they come.” Ben and I open our mouths to argue, but she presses on with her rant before we can utter a single word. “One day soon, you and yours will have to overcome this grudge and unify all efforts. If you don’t, you’ll be gone.”

“That still doesn’t get us anywhere,” Ben contends. “Our families are passed out, we don’t know if they’re dead or alive, and you’re standing here yelling at two people who want to know the difference between truths and lies. That’s bullshit. Let’s go, Candra.” He stalks out of the room, practically ripping the front door off its hinges.

“I—” Have nothing more to say. Ben’s right. If Maggie won’t help us, then we’ll have to take care of Alaric . . . alone.

“You coming?” he calls from the front yard.

Maggie’s face is still blushed bright red, but it’s not as vivid as it was a minute ago. She and I glare at each other, and I hope she sees the pain she incised. Her lips thin as she glances away, allowing me to win the stare-off.

“Yeah, coming,” I respond.

“Wait,” she rasps.

I meander toward the kitchen doorway, pausing long enough to hear what she has to say. This better be good.

“You were right,” she initiates. “
He
wants me to join him and the others when they steal your power. He’s been trying to recruit me for some time now.” She takes two steps toward me. “If you listen to anything I tell you, let it be this, child:
run
.”

I turn toward the front door, see Ben watching me from the end of the porch steps, but my feet won’t move. Maggie knows we can’t leave those we love behind. He’ll kill them.

“It’s for the best,” she adds, her voice small.

“Candra?” Ben’s eyebrows knot up as he observes me. “Are we leaving or not?”

I turn toward Maggie, beg with all emotion left in me. “Will you tell us everything, please? We can’t do this by ourselves.”

Weary, she closes her eyes and nods. “Fine.”

I motion for Ben to return so he can hear this, too. He cusses under his breath, hops over all four porch steps, and then slams the door behind him on his way in.

“Sit down,” orders Maggie, mostly glowering at Ben. “Both of you.”

We obey, Ben more hesitant than me. Maggie leans against the counter, entwining her hands and casually dropping them to rest on her stomach.

“He’s already contacted the few remaining Ancients in the world, and they arrive tomorrow. What he plans to do with you two is a mystery to me, but it will involve extracting both of your powers.”

Ben fakes a cough. “Um, both? They’ve only been after
Candra’s
power, so how was I brought into this?”

Maggie chuckles. “You are as foolish as the name you carry. You didn’t think they would use
Candra’s
power to relive the past, and then wait out another five hundred years, did you?” She laughs even harder now. “Thoughtless boy. You’ve been brainwashed by that cult family of yours for too long. It’s time to wake up.”

Ben’s gaze lowers to the linoleum flooring as he lets this new information sink in. “Why didn’t they tell me?” he whispers.