Liam

Word spread quickly. Within a few days of news coming down from the Council to the Elders about the facilities closing indefinitely, all staff and students had been brought up to speed.

The concern was that, with such high concentrations of young shifters packed into these places, and with security now being an issue, they were sitting ducks. If someone, the Sovereign, were to find out where even one facility was located, the outcome would be tragic.

Whereas I’d once been sure leaving was in everyone’s best interest, I wasn’t so sure now. The uncertainty was starting to get to me.

I wasn’t the only one. I’d seen a wide range of emotions pass through my lecture hall. Some were relieved to return to their hometowns, their families. Then, there were those who were content to be here, saw the value in learning how to defend themselves, and understanding the history of their species.

Most of the staff saw the mass exodus as a huge mistake. Did I think this place was Fort Knox? Absolutely not, but scattering all the shifters back across the map wasn’t ideal either. There’d be no way to rally everyone together quickly when and if trouble came, but the decision had been made.

The young shifters weren’t much more prepared for what was to come than they were when they first arrived nearly six months ago. Sure, most could shift and use basic defense moves, but we’d only begun to scratch the surface. Despite my mixed feelings throughout our time here, despite wanting Evangeline to be better protected, it was hard to deny what was best for the majority.

They needed this place.

I paced the carpet between my desk and the front row of seats. Right there, in the middle of the room, were two empty chairs, symbolizing the fall of this facility. Nick and his accomplice, Roz, were the sparks that ignited this firestorm, and now they were long gone, leaving the rest of us to deal with the fallout.

At the thought, I glanced toward the one who’d taken the hardest hit—Evangeline.

The closer our return to Seaton Falls came, the more she seemed to drown in her own sadness. I understood. Being so close to her parents and yet, unable to be with them. I couldn’t imagine.

Elise had been sympathetic, too, going out of her way to include Evangeline in the moving process—getting her opinion on furniture and paint choices before making final decisions with the designer. She wanted her to know this home would belong to all of us, but there was no lifting Evangeline’s mood. She’d never been one to care about material things. All she wanted was her parents.

The one thing I couldn’t give her.

She wasn’t the only one with mixed feelings. They all seemed to have them. The class was so quiet you could have heard a pin drop. I wouldn’t lecture today because there was no point. This place would be in our rearview mirror in a few short days, so I had other plans for how today’s class would be structured. These kids had been silenced enough, forced to pretend they weren’t at the epicenter of this entire fiasco, but they were. It was their lives being shifted back and forth. So, I offered them the only thing I could.

Honesty.

A hand shot up the moment I opened the floor for questions. I pointed to a girl in the back row.

“None of our other teachers will tell us anything,” she began. “But what happens now? Are we just supposed to go home and pretend nothing’s changed? None of our towns were strictly lycans and dragons, so where do our teachers and friends think we’ve been?”

I stopped in front of my desk and rested against it.

“Many towns used their witches to cast mass spells to cover their tracks. Others, like Seaton Falls where a few of you are from, have shifters planted in high positions within the school board, local government, law enforcement. Within that network, they cover one another’s tracks whenever anyone gets suspicious. It works.”

Another hand went up and, before calling on them, I glanced over at Evangeline. She’d been distracted the last few days, seeming to have checked out mentally, emotionally. I looked away and pointed.

“Yes?”

The kid cleared his throat before asking, “Is it true all this is happening because a couple kids went missing.”

In my peripheral, I saw Evangeline’s eyes lift from the paper she’d been scribbling on since she first took her seat. It would have been so easy to lie, but I’d grown tired of all the secrecy, and if I had to guess, the kids were tired of it, too.

“That’s a big part of it.”

Low chatter picked up all around the room as speculation had just been confirmed. There might be a hell-storm of backlash for telling the truth, but I didn’t care. There was no sense in hiding it.

“Were they taken?” came from the left side of the room.

“Was it the Sovereign?” came from the right.

I shook my head, easing their minds. “No, they weren’t taken. They left on their own and video footage proves it. As far as we know, all of the facilities are still operating in secret.”

As far as we know …

“And what about when this war finally comes?”

“I’m still not sure I even believe there will be a war.”

“Maybe this was all the Council’s way of pushing their own agenda.”

Questions and comments flew at me faster than I could address them. Despite what the Elders thought, these kids weren’t stupid. They weren’t satisfied being moved from place to place without explanation and this latest decision was the final straw.

“Settle down.” At the sound of my voice, the volume in the room lowered to a hushed whisper and then it was quiet. “I know we’re all a little confused about what’s happening, but we have to face the facts. We’ll all be leaving here in a couple days whether we like the idea or not. From this point forward, my only advice to you is that you continue to put what you learned here into practice. Starting with the concept responsible for the first brick of this facility ever being laid.”

I looked around to make sure I had everyone’s attention before explaining. “Stand up for yourself. Ask the hard questions even when they try to shut you up. Fight back when you’re treated unjustly. And never let anyone make you powerless; you’re only as weak as you allow yourself to be.”

No one said a word.

“If you take nothing else from this experience, the one thing you should’ve all learned is that your differences don’t have to divide you. Each species has their strengths, their weaknesses. Bring your best to the table and band together when it counts … against your real enemy.”

When we first arrived, there was immeasurable tension in this room. Being in mixed company had most of these kids on edge without fully understanding why. They knew they sensed each other’s differences and some had even been taught not to trust anyone of another species. However, as I stood before them today, that segregation had vanished. They’d come to trust one another, which was a huge part of what this course was about.

My only hope was that it’d been enough.

After dismissal, Evangeline stayed behind, standing beside me in the empty lecture hall. We leaned against my desk, both staring out at the now vacant seats, maybe sharing the same unsettlingly pessimistic energy.

She hadn’t said a single word yet, just … lingered. Maybe she just needed to be close, needed to breathe. Uncrossing my arms, I reached for her hand and she laced her fingers with mine. Right after, she released a breath she’d been holding, and let her head fall to my shoulder.

“I’m scared for them,” she said, speaking about her peers just above a whisper. “For their future,” she added. “Maybe a little scared for ours.”

A surge of air swelled my chest when she shared her thoughts. In the moment, I wished I had the ability to look into the future, wished I could assure her there was nothing to fear.

But I couldn’t.

The only thing I had was the truth—mine.

Squeezing her fingers gently, she rubbed her cheek against the fabric of my shirt. There was never a time I didn’t feel like my reason for breathing was to protect her, but, right now, that feeling was like a life source coursing through my veins.

“I’ll never let anything happen to you.”

Some might say this was a foolish vow to make, assuring someone with definite certainty something will never happen, but, to me, this wasn’t an empty promise. It was a fact. As long as there was breath in my body, I’d make sure Evangeline was safe. If I had to lay down my own life to make sure of it, I’d do so without question.

A short laugh puffed between her lips and the sound of it was a relief.

“I know I’m safe with you,” she replied. “But not everyone has their own personal warrior. What if …” she paused, thinking of the other shifters I was sure. “What if things get bad for them? Are their clans equipped to fight?”

Again, I wished I had all the answers, but the only one I could give was steeped in more speculation, more uncertainty.

“We just have to trust the Council knows what they’re doing.” It was an answer, but more than that, it was a gamble.

One I’d never take with her life.

My shoulder went cold when she lifted her head. “Shoot, I have to get to Hilda.”

This was her routine—rushing to eat an apple or granola bar to take the place of an actual lunch so she could study with her aunt.

“I’ll see you at the end of the day,” she said in a rush, pressing her lips to mine before attempting to run for the door.

It truly was only an attempt, because I caught her wrist before she could get away. She gasped as I yanked her to my chest, holding her by the waist now. She did her best not to smile, but it didn’t work.

“You’re gonna make me late,” she protested weakly. “And we both know how Hilda gets when I’m late.”

She was right, I did, but a few stolen seconds would be worth the glare and lengthy lecture. I just wanted a little more of her time.

The world seemed to slow as she gave in, surrendering her lips. Her weight rested against me, pressing her body flush against mine, no real distinction between where one ended and the other began.

Smiling, she pulled away. “Okay, I have to go. For real this time.”

I heard the words leave her mouth, but then she swallowed them down again when she came in for a second kiss.

This time, she braced her hands against my chest. “You’re a terrible influence and I won’t let you corrupt me,” she teased, managing to put significant distance between us.

I tilted my head, enjoying the view as she walked away, glancing over her shoulder several times with longing in her eyes. She wanted to come back to me as badly as I wanted her to. She had the soft flesh of her bottom lip clamped between her teeth as she pushed the door open, and then I was alone.

My eyes went to the band I wore, the one that matched hers, and I could only smile. She’d always had a way of making me ache for her, and even after centuries apart, that hadn’t changed.

*****

Evie

“You’re late.”

There was always a bit of a scowl on Hilda’s face, but it deepened whenever I skated in after our agreed upon time. I swallowed the bite I’d taken of my apple before apologizing.

“I’m sorry, I had a … a thing after class and …”

A dark, slender hand lifted into the air, silencing me as silver bracelets clanged on her wrist.

“Tell Liam, from now on, his … groping … can wait until day’s end. Not on my time. Not when we have serious business to tend to,” she glowered, flipping through pages of a book that looked about as old as she was.

I lowered my gaze and took a seat at Elise’s dining room table—our makeshift workspace.

“Understood.”

She peered over the frame of her glasses and then focused on the page for a moment before shoving it across the table to my chest.

“Start there,” was her grumbled command.

Little effort went into these sessions anymore, mostly because Hilda had given up hope that we’d ever make progress. It went like this nearly every day—she’d shove a book at me, then she’d wander around Elise’s quarters doing whatever suited her until time was up. Almost daily, I thought about throwing my hands up of the entire thing—giving up on her, giving up on me. The only thing that stopped me was remembering that hollow look Elise held when we last discussed it being pointless.

If I could avoid having her lose hope by coming here for an hour a day, then I’d do it.

Even if it did prove to be fruitless.

A shadow loomed above me and I peered up. Hilda stared as a vile of red liquid dangled from a chain just above her blouse’s neckline—lycan blood. She always kept one close by and I could only guess the supply she must have brought with her considering how long she’d already been here, how long she’d have to stay if her date of departure matched the date I finally got this spell right. Once, in class, Liam shared that lycan blood was what kept a witch a life beyond their ‘natural end’. The same held true for Hilda. No matter how powerful she was, she was still at the mercy of the lycans she was allied with in Ethiopia.

“You’re not focusing,” she snapped, her gruff voice stabbing my senses.

“I was, um …”

“Daydreaming,” she interjected.

I lowered my head, knowing there was no sense in arguing with her. We’d been at this a while, several weeks, and during that time I’d gotten used to her short fuse and inability to sugarcoat, well … anything. So, when she took the seat across from me, I could only guess what would come out of her mouth. She’d surprised me on many occasions, so I braced myself now.

“You’re thinking about Liam?” she asked, managing to sound slightly less irritated than before.

I shook my head. “No,” I lied. That wasn’t true because I was sort of always thinking about him, but that wasn’t what had me preoccupied.

“Then what is it?”

My lip ached as I gnawed it, trying to put into words how I felt. Hilda was hard, tough. That made it difficult to share my thoughts with her when they were steeped in emotion. I always wondered if, to her, I sounded like some sniveling brat who’d replaced the niece she once knew, and from what I heard, revered. You’d never guess it by how she spoke to me now. How she looked at me now.

At the thought, I observed those dark eyes glaring.

“It’s nothing,” I quickly replied, deciding to keep my thoughts to myself. The last thing I needed was her thinking I was weaker than she already did.

When I lowered my gaze to the book again, I gasped as it was snatched right from beneath my nose. No, she hadn’t reached to take it; she used magic, bringing it right to the edge of the table as she stared at me intently. So intently I wondered if she read my thoughts, but then remembered she couldn’t even if she tried. Being immune to magic was about the only thing I’d gotten right.

“You were always difficult. Even before.”

I was pretty sure she almost smiled.

Almost.

“Your head needs to be clear,” she sighed. “So … clear it. Tell me what’s wrong so we can move on.”

See? Never sugarcoats a freakin’ thing.

I leaned away from the table and just spit it out.

“I’m not ready to go back.” Before she could tell me to suck it up because I had no choice, I spoke again. “I know it’s already been decided, and I know there’s nothing I can do to change it, but that doesn’t stop me from dreading being in Seaton Falls again.”

Those dark eyes of hers were unfeeling, like she’d never had an emotion course through her veins a single day of her life. But I knew that wasn’t true. Once or twice, her heart had shown through, although I believed the reveal was in error. Still, even through her toughness, I knew she cared at least a little. If only because we were family.

“You’re right; it has been decided,” she began. “However … I can understand why this might be difficult.”

She glanced toward the wooden box Elise kept on the credenza and I think we both thought of what that box held—the souls of my brothers, more family I had and lost. More family I couldn’t remember.

I had a thought and, in my absentmindedness, blurted it while I zoned out. “Can magic restore a person’s memories?”

I glanced toward Hilda again when she snickered. “On most, yes, but you’ve got a clever way of being immune to magic, so …”

I breathed deep. “I know. I was just wondering if it was possible.”

She studied my face, but said nothing for several seconds. She did that a lot. Stared wordlessly, analyzing me.

“Have you ever asked yourself if maybe it’s a blessing your mind is a clean slate?”

The question caught me by surprise and my brow twitched. “Why would I? If I could remember who I was, if I could remember Liam, or Elise … it’d make things so much simpler.”

“You’ve named the good things,” Hilda replied. “Of course, those would be helpful, but what about the rest?”

She made me think long and hard about that one. I recalled the story Liam shared of the day I died. Would I want to remember being ripped apart by the beast that came for me?

My gaze met Hilda’s again. “I mean, I know there were bad things, too, but … wasn’t I happy? Wouldn’t I want to remember my brothers? My father? All the memories I shared with Liam?”

Hilda’s brow lifted a bit as she shrugged. “I suppose,” was her lackadaisical response. “But … has it not been exciting to … claim your true soulmate twice?”

She did this bouncy thing with her eyebrows that made me laugh, hinting at a physical connection Liam and I had yet to reestablish. She could assume what she wanted, but the question did make me think on all the stolen moments he and I managed to carve out in our day, how it felt to be held by him, protected by him.

Kissed by him.

The love between us felt new to me, but I had a feeling it would always feel just as exciting, just as necessary, as it did right now.

“Besides,” Hilda chimed in again, causing thoughts of Liam to scatter at the sound of her voice. “You’ve been given something only a handful of others were granted—a second chance.”

My head tilted. “Only a handful?” I couldn’t imagine why more hadn’t taken advantage of something so useful, so convenient. My guess was something else Elise had shared. For me to return, because she only had the help of one witch, she could only restart my life from the beginning. I’m me, but without any knowledge of my past life. But to do what Hilda and I have set out to do, bringing back my brothers … a spell like that required at least two.

Hilda relaxed in her seat a bit when she let out a breath. “The kind of magic your mother and I used to bring you back, the kind you and I have been studying for weeks to do the same for your brothers,” she began, “it’s forbidden.”

My heart sank as I listened.

She saw my surprise and veered off topic for a moment. “Didn’t your mother share this with you? Share what she risked bringing you back?”

I shook my head. “No. She wasn’t exactly open about it because the Council—”

With the wave of a hand, Hilda scoffed and interrupted. “Of course. The Council,” she mumbled, rolling her eyes. “Well, she may have sworn her allegiance to them, but I certainly have not.” Crossing her legs beneath the table, she situated her long, heavy skirt of expensive, purple fabric over her knee before going on.

“Resurrection spells were forbidden centuries ago. In fact, there are witches planted all over the globe charged with one task only: detecting the use of ‘restorative magic’. Anyone found guilty will suffer a fate worse than death.”

I frowned. “What’s worse than death?”

Hilda’s eyes met mine and I took note of the grave expression she wore. “Being captured by the Sovereign, forced to do his bidding until he feels you’ve atoned for your transgression … and then he ends your life. A gruesome, painful death too despicable to speak of.”

Every time someone mentioned this man it gave me chills, made my skin crawl.

“That’s why she, your mother, waited so long to bring you back. Not because she feared losing her own life, but because she knew I was the only one who’d ever even think about helping her, and she thought it too great a favor to ask.”

I stared when she smiled. “And … it was, but … I suppose we all do stupid things for family,” she added.

I smiled back, noting this as one of those rare moments she didn’t remind me so much of a statue.

Newton’s third law—for every action there is a reaction. This was the analogy Elise used when explaining why she didn’t rush to bring me back. She knew saving my life could potentially end Hilda’s.

And yet both were brave enough to go through with it anyway.

“So … if you and I get caught …?”

Hilda laughed out loud this time—a booming sound I think I’d only heard once before. “Your mother would never think of putting your life in danger. Before we began the spell to reincarnate you, I received a blessing from one of the Oracles—a chief member of the High Council,” she explained. “I was owed a favor and I figured this was as good a reason as any.”

Reaching for a thick gold chain around her neck, one that rested beneath the vile of lycan blood she kept on hand, she revealed a large, gold pendant. The symbol reminded me of a flower, but definitely wasn’t one.

“This,” she went on, “it hides me from the Sovereign’s witches, the ones all over the world hunting for those who dare to resurrect the soul of a deceased supernatural being. With it,” she added, “you and I are completely safe, free from that devil’s ever-watchful eyes.” A look of disgust filled her expression at the mention of him.

I had another question, one Elise refused to answer because of her vow to the Council. However, Hilda made it abundantly clear she, herself, was not bound by any oath. So, I just asked it. The worse she could do was tell me to mind my business and shove the spell book back in my face.

“What made Elise bring me back when she did? I know there’s more to it than just her hope that I’ll one day serve as queen, but … I’m still confused.”

A hard look came my way, one I couldn’t read. “She really didn’t tell you much, did she?”

Feeling like a naïve little kid, I shook my head. “No.”

There was a long pause. Long enough I thought Hilda had decided not to explain.

“The oracles again,” she sighed. “Only this time, they reached out to me, after two of the three shared the same vision. They saw a great war, one where much blood will be shed, but, luckily, it was afar off—decades,” she added. “Enough time to prepare as much as we’re able.”

“So, it is just about me serving as queen.” My stomach turned at the thought of it, taking such a weighty position, one that never appealed to me.

“It is,” she answered. “…Because they saw you.”

My brow tensed again. What did she mean ‘they saw me’?

I knew there was a prophecy about the war, knew I’d been brought back to be queen should the clans succeed in bringing down the Sovereign, but … I had no idea that I, specifically, was part of this prophecy.

“It was that vision of you reigning that made the Oracle agree to this blessing,” she explained, touching the large, gold pendant again. “It was the reason I agreed to help Elise. All prophecies are provisional.”

“Provisional?”

She nodded. “Yes. They are never etched in stone. The actions, or inactions, of others can directly affect them. For instance, the vision of you reigning pointed toward you being queen as long as you’re alive, present when the opportunity presents itself. However, if you were not, if you are not … then the position would go to someone else,” she explained. “Your mother and I simply decided to do our part in ensuring things were in alignment when the time comes.”

“As long as I manage not to get myself killed, that is.” When I smiled so did Hilda.

“I suppose that part is up to you.”

“Duly noted.”

The large book was shoved at me again. “And now, you study.”

Running my hand over the brown, leather cover worn on the edges, my fingertips grazed a gold emblem at its center, one that matched Hilda’s pendant.

Lifting my eyes to her, realizing how much thought and effort had gone into bringing me back, how much had gone into seeing to it that I sat here today, I nodded.

“And now, I study.”