Love's a Witch (15 page)

While they were cooing over each other I picked up my shoes. When I walked back inside I went straight to Kari’s altar space. A spell in the tiny blue velvet journal had caught my eye in my earlier search and my fingers found it fast. “Call for intent” was written across the top. It required a fast burning scroll. Jake and Amber had walked in only to see me speed past them up the stairs to my room. As speedy as a human could look to them, anyway. But I might have broken a few personal speed records as I hopped up two steps at a time.

I found some of my tracing paper. It wasn’t flash paper, but it would burn quickly. I grabbed a charcoal stick, and a candle from the wooden dresser Kari raided to make our circle a few days ago. I held the candle for a moment and looked at the floor. There were still grains of salt between the floorboards. The rough sandy texture grated against the soles of my bare feet. Walking in her home, I could still feel Kari everywhere. But I couldn’t stop. I kept rushing through the house. I’d get her back to her home. I’d fix this.

“Mary, what are you doing?” Amber’s voice called from the foot of the stairs, and I made my way past her and into the dining room with far more speed that was safe for my accident prone self.

I flattened out the tablecloth, and began to set up.

“I haven’t done this before.” I set the candle and lit it. “But this book caught my attention this morning.” A stoneware bowl and an athame from Kari’s alter joined the rest of the items I had gathered. “When I put my hand out for yours, please hold hands with Jake and then hold mine. I think I can draw strength through our bond.”

They trusted me enough to let me lead. I really hoped this would work. Spellwork was not something that was recommended for novice witches. The likelihood of a backfire was pretty darn high. If the coven pounded anything into my head it was the rule of three. Three times whatever you put out would come back to you. Nothing I was doing was dark, so I figured I was okay. Most likely incompetent, but okay.

The room was silent, except for the hum of the air conditioner and the occasional pop of the wick in the candle. I smoothed out the paper and wrote with the charcoal.

Craig, are you going to stop being a dumbass and come the fuck back to our Clan where you belong?

Amber snorted. I knew she’d appreciate my own interpretation of spellwork. If it didn’t feel natural, it wouldn’t work, and right now nothing felt more natural than a couple cuss words. I sprinkled the last of Craig’s hairs into the middle of the paper and rolled it up. I grabbed the athame and stabbed it right in the center of the scroll to hold it together. As I held it over the flame from the candle I found Amber’s hand.

My body let go and I watched the paper burn. Before I could get it to the bowl, the burning paper fell from the blade. I patted the tablecloth to put out the fire. Dammit, why didn’t I pull that off first? Stupid. I heard Jake suck in a breath, but Amber spoke first.

“Well, does that mean what I think it does?” Amber’s words drew my attention to the damage that had resulted from the small fire.

A black ‘X’ scarred the fabric and the wood below. If that wasn’t a big fat “no”, I don’t know what is. Craig wouldn’t be back. We would have to go get him. Not we. Me. That was why I had drawn the picture. There was only one way Craig was coming home. And it involved me and a distinct lack of clothing.

Chapter Eighteen

Craig

Three days. I had spent three days living in the woods. I didn’t mind running through the woods as a wolf, but bug bites on my human form was not my idea of a good time. My old Pack had become a group of nomads. They couldn’t stay in one place. Harvesting wasn’t only profitable, it was dangerous. Really, anything that pays well is.

My knowledge of finances and work with offshore accounts wasn’t something I figured out on my own. Over the last few days, I caught glimpses of my father using some of the same programs I’d used with the Hart Clan. The money was funneled away for later. They were washing their riches clean with undisclosed accounts and enough laundering that when they did finally use it, that cash would be spic and span.

Living in the woods helped the Pack stay off the grid while they were harvesting. It helped them live without being tied down. It also helped them stash away some serious cash.

The camping was temporary. Part of the way to stay off the grid with harvesting was to work in waves. The Alakin Pack was stockpiling right now. They had so many witches at the moment because they said they were getting ready to retire for the season. As the kids ran around chewing on each other until blood was drawn, I had to wonder if they could blend back in with society again.

My parents needed members of their Pack to do the dirty work now. Something sick in my stomach told me that they may be working with a disposable group. These were their workers. The workers were cut off from every monetary advantage. That couldn’t be a coincidence.

The Pack members work with meager clothing, and live off the land with ease. They could survive and in their own way thrive without the money they were earning, but someone was getting rich by using them. Looked like it was my parents.

There were lots of other werewolf Packs, and vampire Families who were heavy hitters in the harvester world, but the Alakin Pack had an advantage the others didn’t. Not only were they harvesting witches, they used witch magic to disguise themselves. Their spelled garments keep them from being sensed by supernaturals, and using magical spells would calm their targets. What witch would suspect another of her kind in a harvest? This all added up to reduced damage, and put their witches at a premium on the market.

“You work with a human? That’s…interesting.” It was easy to inject an element of disgust in my voice. But it wasn’t working with humanity that made my lip curl; it was the way they used human cattle to create their living.

The Pack was gathered around a campfire. I wasn’t allowed near the witches, but I was permitted to join by the fire for meals. Bringing in meat to cook over the fire didn’t hurt either. By the way the pups attacked what I brought in, it was easy to see that food was not what my former Pack had in its priority. The children were pretty low on the list too.

“A witch, not just a mere human,” my mother scoffed at the idea of a regular human infiltrating their Pack. “We have a contact in the vampire community. He has dazzled a witch to work with us. She is very easy to maintain. She used to live near us, but instead of a nuisance she is now a useful pet. After years of good performance, our vampire buyer gifted her to us. Productivity has increased.” Our conversation paused as my mother pointed out the female she was talking about.

The witch wore a grey jumpsuit like the wolves, but the life and the fire that the Pack had in their eyes was missing from hers. I bit the inside of my cheek to prevent the reaction that was still aching to break free when I saw Annabelle. Seeing her here, even for only the few minutes she came and went from the tent, was painful. My eyes passed over her with no reaction. She was the one who had created the dragon’s blood vial for me before I left the Pack.

Her hair was peppered with a little grey now, and her body was thinner. She wasn’t the plump happy woman I remembered. Annabelle had been a kind woman, and there had been times I snuck out to see her because she treated me how I always dreamed my own mother would. There was always something working in her fire pit, always some herb or vegetable to harvest, and she always stopped to answer my questions. Her warm smile and the vial of dragon’s blood resin was what gave me courage to find my own way.

Annabelle’s body was the one that came out of that tent, but it seemed as if someone had locked her spirit away. Even from a distance she seemed vacant, and I knew that her long brown braid was more for lack of allowing her a haircut than for style. She was carrying out the remnants of dinner and dumping out some buckets. The odor reached my nose. They had the witches defecating in a bucket. I clamped my teeth together to prevent saying something that would give away how vile I thought my family had become.

My mother continued the conversation without batting an eye. “She also tends to calm the other witches. It works for at least for the first few days they are here. She lies to them about their destination. Most don’t know where they are going until they are sold. Which also reduces our product damage.” My mother, mate to the Alpha in this Pack, talked this way in front of the children around her. I handed the meat I had intended to eat to the eager pup next to me. My stomach couldn’t take it.

“That’s Annabelle, isn’t it? Wasn’t your previous relationship with her working? I can’t recall her having issues with the Pack.” I tried to keep my personal feelings tamped down. I didn’t want Annabelle here. She should be in her garden. She was always so happy in her garden.

“Yes, son. As I explained, our purchase liaison offered to dazzle her for us. Instead of working her into our budget, we simply tell her what to do. Far more cost effective.” My mother watched me. She’d caught me sneaking into Annabelle’s garden once, and I’d been forbidden from going back. I hoped that my fascination with her hadn’t put her in this state. But I knew my involvement had to be at least part of the reason she was taken. I exposed her to my parents.

Pups fought each other around me. They wrestled around like normal kids, until they started biting. They were too young to have transitioned, but even a child’s tooth can draw blood. I was horrified to watch them chew on each other without any sign of slowing down. The only thing the elders around me did was comment on their potential as hunters for the Pack.

These kids were raised away from humanity and the reality around them. They had never watched morning cartoons. I saw their daily routine. The single television they kept was always kept on the human news channels. The Pack made sure to move along if they began to see any mention of the missing women in the media. My parents had thought of everything. Except compassion. I had their detachment to a degree, but I had enough heart to bleed for what was going on here.

Those in charge of the women walked the witches out twice a day to use the woods as a bathroom and wash. They fed them in the holding tent. I still wasn’t permitted access, and I was hesitant to push. I was gathering intel right now. Every day I didn’t hear Mary’s name mentioned kept me going. I could focus on getting Kari out of here and not worry about them harvesting those who mattered the most to me. My eyes cut to the zombie that used to be Annabelle. Well, no one else.

The dragon’s blood was long gone. Part of me wanted to demand Annabelle make me more. No doubt she’d been dazzled to obey any wolves in case of a change in Pack leadership. But my wolf wouldn’t allow it. He was tired of being quieted. Frankly I didn’t want to deny the truth any longer. It was painful to stay away from Mary. I wanted to go to her, I wanted her in my arms, and I wanted to show her how much I needed her. And my wolf had some ideas of his own too. He wanted me to claim her, and I was ready to grant him his wish.

Talk of a “new witch” kept me in place, as did realizing Annabelle was trapped. The Pack had all been buzzing about a new target. They never used names. They never spoke of them like they were people.

I began the conversation with my mother again to distract myself. “I guess you are doing well for the Pack. Congrats on the success.”

“And what are you doing, son?” Her eyes left the fire to look at me. I wasn’t sure if it was genuine curiosity, or something else that had her asking. “You are no Alpha. There will be no Pack for you to lead in the future. You know how a Packless wolf can tend towards madness. I would hate to have to find you like that. Will you re-pledge to your father and I?”

This was my in, but I had to be careful. “I don’t know if I am up for this. I’m more of a numbers man. I ran the books for the Paulson Pack. I was a great asset, but they were very below par as far as wolves went. Maintaining human jobs, and a very modest abode.” I looked around at the tent city that was in the woods around me. “It’s nothing like the operation you have here, and I didn’t have to use my natural animal instinct. I would hate to come back and disappoint you and Father by being out of practice.”

My mother’s smile told me my words pleased her. We didn’t talk about Packs or politics any more that night. Instead my father’s Beta, William, began to teach the children. I use the term “teach” as loosely as possible. Influence or warp would have been more accurate.

I was still around the main fire, but the inner circle was all pups under the age of eighteen. Eighteen might be a legal adult in the human world, but these were wolves who still had centuries of life ahead of them. Human males matured slowly enough, imagine not reaching middle age for two hundred years. These teens had the adult physique just like humans did. Thank goodness for sex and the modicum of adult behavior the females required. It was the only way that some men matured mentally. The other part of growing up was learning the Pack business. That’s where storytelling comes in. These wolves were being groomed for the life my parents had chosen for all of them.

The Pack Beta, William, settled on the tallest stump around the fire. The children hushed as he waited for quiet before he would begin. His scent wrapped around the group. He was one of the men I had scented my first night here. He was second in command, but he was not a peace maker. This man could rule.

“Wolves are mighty creatures,” William began. “We change our bodies into a fierce animal who will always be feared by lesser beings. Our bones bend to our wills. We can overcome our human form and ascend to our natural bodies. Many of you have already had your first change. The wolf tears through you with a power that you can’t deny at the full moon.