The Alpha's Temptation (Werewolves of Boulder Junction Book 4) Page 6

  Together.

  * * *

  They made their way to the same spot they had initially met the witch last time, sitting down upon the same log that had remained undisturbed. They breathed out and waited, knowing that there was no point in pretending that they were not being watched every step along the way.

  They turned out to be right, as the witch wasted no time pretending either. She appeared seemingly out of nowhere right in front of them, her brow pinched in irritation, her hands covered in what seemed to be blood. Michael sat up straight, ready to pounce upon her if she made a single move to hurt either one of them. "Hold on! What were you just doing?"

  She rolled her eyes. "Oh please, I have to eat like everyone else." Her glare was venomous as it locked with his own. "You two are interrupting my lunch, so I suggest that you speak quickly."

  "I'm afraid it isn't a matter of a quick question, this has to do with my friend's life." Hayley looked desperate as she asked. The witch was not moved.

  "I do not care, take your sob story elsewhere." She turned to leave, Hayley jumped up quickly, running over and grabbing her wrist. The resulting glare that was leveled upon her was so filled with contempt that Michael was certain lesser beings would have had their hearts stop. But Hayley was determined.

  "Please! We wouldn't have come out here, disturbed you so if we did not need to know!" She squeezed down lightly. "Please."

  The witch stared her down, trying to see if she could manage to get her to back off, decide that it was not worth the trouble and just accept that her friend was doomed. Hayley didn't yield however, and knowing that she currently still had a pot boiling, the witch rolled her eyes. "Fine, you two may come and sit while I finish preparing my meal." She pointed a warning finger at the both of them. "But if my food is ruined or you two speak out of turn, rest assured you will be going in there with the vegetables!"

  Michael gulped, not too keen on the idea of being made into a meal, but he extended his hand gratefully none the less. She scoffed, "Oh please, just follow me."

  They watched as she stepped up to a shimmering barrier along the edge of the forest, her body disappearing piece by piece as she passed through. After a second of hesitation, they followed along, their skin rippling and tingling oddly as the magic passed over them, Michael in particular having some trouble keeping his stomach calm.

  She did not wait for either of them, her long legs steady and sure as she walked along the pathway towards a surprisingly modern house, the type that Liam would have commissioned. She must have anticipated their question, because she turned and said, "If you are wondering about the house, the old owner is no longer with us. It is my house now, I live alone, and we will stop there. Understood?"

  He nodded. "Y-Yeah, no worries."

  "Good." She clicked her fingers, the door opening wide. "Wipe your feet before you come in, I have no interest in cleaning up after you two."

  After making sure that their feet were thoroughly clean, they followed her through the house. Michael swept his gaze around the hallways, very interested in finding out more about the woman who could quite easily flip between ally and enemy. The hallway was sparse, minimalist but not barren, clearly she had an eye for practicality rather than rather than meaningless aesthetic. One thing stuck out to him however, a single framed photograph hanging high on the wall, as though it was less something to gaze upon and more something to keep watch.

  He stepped closer, momentarily forgetting why he was here in this house in order to get a better look at the one show of sentimentality that she had displayed. It showed her, quite clearly, a smile on her face in no way forced or strained, her eyes alight with joy as she held her arm around someone who she was quite obviously close to. Her companion grinned with equal mirth, short black hair curling around his eyes, the connection between the two quite obvious.

  Michael stretched out a hand to touch the frame, when a deceptively strong hand clamped around his wrist. He turned in surprise, his host staring into his eyes with a fury that could be described only as cold. "Do you have no respect for other people's belongings?"

  "I... I'm sorry." He hung his head, though he couldn't help but ask, "The man in the photograph, is he your brother?"

  She was silent for a moment, her voice distant when she answered. "He was."

  He sighed, "I'm sorry."

  "Don't be." Her eyes hardened. "I'm the one that killed him." She pulled him towards the kitchen, her teeth almost bared as she growled, "Now imagine what I will do to you if you waste anymore of my time."

  He nodded, quickening his pace as he sought out the door to the kitchen, Hayley already sitting calmly when he entered. She smiled up at him, frowning slightly when she saw the look of panic on his face. Before she could ask however, he shook his head, merely taking a seat next to her at the table. The witch entered not long after, her slightly heavier breathing the only hint that she might be anything except calm and collected. She didn't look at them once as she stepped over to the oven, resuming stirring the contents of a pot in chilling silence.

  Hayley squirmed in her seat, desperate to start talking but aware that they were already on thin ice. Her comfort was a small sacrifice to pay if it meant that they would have a chance at finding a way to save Skylar. After a few minutes of waiting their host finally hummed to herself, spoon being stirred around a few more times for good measure. She spooned out the stew into a bowl, taking her seat opposite the two of them. She took her time savoring the taste, finally looking up at them as she pushed her bowl away.

  "There, now that my lunch has finally gone uninterrupted, what is it you need to speak to me about?"

  Hayley reached into her back, pulling out the few books that she thought might have been of interest. She placed them on the table, folding her arms in front of herself. "We really are grateful for your help before, it... it gave us some hope on what to do, and it's helping us find out more about our friend."

  The witch clicked her tongue, "Clearly it didn't help enough if you're bothering me today."

  "It's..." She breathed out harshly through her nose. "No one else knows about this except you, none of the research helps, we don't know how to find out anything about Sky..."

  Michael put his hand over hers, letting her squeeze it as hard as she needed. He looked up at the witch, her eyes boring into his. "I know you don't like us witch, but... Please, we need your help on this."

  "Don't call me that."

  He was taken aback. "What?"

  "Do not call me 'witch'. If either of you truly had any respect for me, you would have asked me my name. Do not insult me by presuming that I will help you when you will not even grant me this base level of courtesy."

  "I..." Michael hung his head, next to him Hayley did the same. "I'm sorry. That was... that was very rude of me."

  Hayley nodded. "Of both of us." She smiled slightly. "Please, what is your name?"

  She regarded them with an analytical focus before she waved her hand. "You may call me Cassandra."

  "Is that your real name?" Michael held his hands up. "I don't mean to offend I just..."

  "It is the name I have chosen. If that is good enough for me it should be good enough for you." She tilted her head at him. "A question like that is understandable I suppose, at least you are making yourself clear in not wanting to offend me." She scoffed, "Not like the other ape-headed simpletons who see fit to waltz through the forest and are so careless they never walk out again."

  Cassandra smirked at both of them, neither sure if it was meant to be reassuring or predatory. Given their impression so far, likely both. "I suppose I should be thankful that I have two people in front of me who are fearful enough to be wary of my every move, it has been a long time since someone out here gave me that ounce of semi-respect." She clicked her fingers. "Very well, you may ask your questions and I may answer them to the best of my ability. My mood has surprisingly improved in your presence."

  They both chuckled, but relief was evident in th
eir replies. "Thank you." Hayley said, flipping her notebook open. "You said that the birth would go through with no problems if she was a supernatural, but there must be more to it. We've been searching endlessly for any information on the process, as well as any way to determine what her bloodline might be, but we've found nothing." She gestured vaguely to the books on the table. "Just half-useless conjecture."

  Cassandra cleared her throat, "I may have... been less than completely honest when I spoke with you last time." At their wide eyed stared she rolled her own. "Oh please, I never gave the impression that I was a saint."

  Michael sighed, "Well what did you leave out then?"

  "Both parents being supernaturals does not necessarily mean the birth will go through with no problems. Childbirth still carries risks on its own, but more so for babies of mixed bloodline."

  "So if two different supernaturals conceive normally there is still risk of death?"

  "Of course," She tapped her finger against the table in a manner too wooden to be casual. "Why do you think we don't have half-vampire, half-shifter children running around? Even if the birth is successful they normally do not live long, both species make it their duty to kill all involved/." She smiled. "Though I suspect that wouldn't be a problem here."

  Michael's eyes hardened. "It wouldn't. Is there anything we can do for her?"

  She hummed thoughtfully, "The best thing you could do would be to determine what exactly she could be. The easiest way to do that would be to ask, and I assume that you have the cognitive faculties to have been able to work that out already?"

  Hayley rolled her eyes. "Yes, we were smart enough to ask her about her own parentage. Unfortunately, she was adopted, and we have no idea on what her actual bloodline contains."

  "That is a problem." Cassandra stood, walking over to the wall and waving her hand in front of it. The tiles cracked and shifted, a rectangular chunk of the wall emerging and slotting itself into her waiting hand. The hole seemingly healed itself as the chunk of granite twitched and flexed in her hand, the hard edges slowly softening, the colors shifting and changing. By the time she sat back down in front of them, she was holding a fully formed book.

  "This contains quite a lot of research I have done into other paranormals. Abilities, culture, whatever you can think of, it is most likely contained within these pages." She flipped to a random page. "What may be helpful to you in finding out what her bloodline contains would analyzing these creature’s abilities and behaviors, and comparing them to her or anyone you can find out about that she was related to."

  "To her? How would we know if she doesn't display any abilities normally? She hasn't so far that we've noticed."

  "Even if she is only a half blood then she may show some weak versions of theses abilities. For instance, if she had an Incubus ancestor then she may display some method of natural charm or seduction." She rubbed the tip of her finger against the corner of her mouth, trying to flick away an involuntary smirk. "It's not limited to them, but they are one of the easiest examples."

  "This book contains all of this?"

  She shook her head. "I have not lived for centuries, I haven't been able to find every species in existence. Though I assure you, there is a great deal of information contained within." She made sure both of them were looking her way before she continued. "It is also foolish to assume that she has no abilities just because you haven't seen them. She may have ones with no physical element, or she may even be a late bloomer."

  "A late bloomer?" Michael shook his head. "That's impossible, surely."

  "I do not blame you for thinking so. It is incredibly rare, so rare that it may as well be considered impossible, but it has occurred before. I have only been able to find evidence of it happening twice in half a millennium."

  "Why does no one know about this?" Hayley flicked through the book, page after page filled with undeniably valuable information. "How has this not been taught to all of us?"

  "I suspect because no one particularly cares about my area of research." She shrugged. "Or perhaps they do not like the person it came from. Either way, they are merely the proponents of ignorance."

  Hayley shook her head. "This is insane, your personality leaves a lot to be desired, but this is incredible."

  "My my. Brave words from someone who claims to need my help." In spite of her chiding tone, she wore an amused grin. "You two are much more interesting to talk to than my stuffy old coven companions. This may not be so terrible after all."

  Hayley didn't hear her. "What about the birthing process? You said there were risks?"

  "Of course, just because we breath air and survive in the open does not mean that all do. Determining what you can do however depends fully on finding out what the child may be." She began counting off her fingers. "A child of vampire blood would require as little light as possible, a merperson would obviously need water to survive more than a few minutes after birth. Without knowing for sure there is no way to be prepared to keep this child alive. All the information you would need is contained within those pages."

  Cassandra watched the both of them look feverishly through the book, pages turning and theories being exchanged between the two. The way that Hayley's eyes lit up or Michael's mouth curved in an understanding grin, they made her feel something that she hadn't felt in a long, long time. She sighed, "I... will let you keep the book."

  Their heads shot up, mouth not able to believe what they had just heard. Hayley was the first to recover, asking, "Are you sure? This... this is your life's work."

  "It is not the only copy I have, believe me, but the information itself is incredibly sensitive. I trust though, that it will be safe in your hands."

  "Um..." Michael looked at her, uncertain. "I don't want to jinx this or anything..."

  "Though you are certainly going to try."

  "Why? Why are you helping us so much? I'm grateful for everything, don't get me wrong but..."

  She smiled, a little sadly. "I remember what it was like to want to protect someone. And I remember the feeling of having failed in that regard as well. As awful as I may be, and I'm aware of how much that is, I don't wish for you to feel that."

  "I'm sorry." Hayley held her hand out. "May I ask who it was?"

  "No. No, you may not. I am sympathetic to your plight, but do not mistake that for companionship." The slight shaking of her voice made Hayley think she wasn't being completely genuine in her dismissal, though she knew better than to mention it. "If you do require assistance however, you may call on me."

  "How? We wouldn't be able to afford the trip if we were truly in danger."

  She clicked her fingers, a stick of incense forming instantly in her hand. She held it up to her mouth, speaking an incantation and blowing against it, before placing it down in front of them. "Burn this if you require my assistance. I will feel it, and will be there within seconds, I promise you." She pointed between them. "Do not treat this as some frivolous thing, keep it for when you truly cannot see any way out of your situation. I have remained un-involved in all matters thus far, I do not want that changing for anything but the direst of circumstances."

  Hayley and Michael nodded. "We understand." She smiled. "You are not as terrifying as you seem on the outside."

  Cassandra scoffed, "Oh I assure you, had this meeting gone another way you would have died before I could show you the true extents of how frightening I can be." She smiled viciously to herself. "This forest has grown on the bodies of countless men who can attest to that."

  "Aaand I take back what I just said." Hayley stood, followed quickly by Michael. "Despite that, we are both incredibly grateful for your help."

  Michael held his hand out. "It was... a genuine pleasure to get to know you Cassandra."

  She stared at the outstretched hand, just a second too long for him to think it was going to be rejected. She grabbed his hand just as it began to pull back, pumping it up and down twice before letting it fall to his side. "Surprisingly enough, it was." She s
mirked. "Take care of yourself. Shifter."

  "We will." He waited a breath before replying, "Witch."

  The two of them made their way back through the forest, camping out for the night when they couldn't make it all the way to the coven. Though many things lived in the forest, silent, hungry things, they never felt as though they were in danger.

  They felt as though something was watching over them, and while they weren't certain that it could be called a friend, they were positive that it wasn't an enemy.

  * * *

  Rick walked along the path towards the park, each step echoing in the early morning atmosphere. The trees closed in around him, his lungs felt like they were permanently short of air, his body screaming for a chance to just let it all out, to wail and shout until every ounce of panic and fear fled his body. But they never would, not as long as he worked for Sarconi. Rick was a loyal man, he would give his life for Sarconi if he so desired it. He had been dragged out of the gutter and molded into the soldier he was today, and he owed all of that to one, great man.

  That did not mean however, that he was unafraid of his boss.

  Far from it, his loyalty had in fact led to even more fear, fear of the man, fear of the job.

  Fear of becoming like the man he looked up to.

  Years of faithful service had brought him into the inner circle, had led to a father figure in Sarconi and an almost surrogate brother in Grayson, but it had also brought him no end of horrors. He remembered the first time that he had been present for an interrogation, their informant strung up and gasping for every breath, only allowed to breath for just long enough to not pass out before it was taken from them again. When they had tired of that, Sarconi had walked over, picked up a power drill and...

  Rick shook his head. It took him months to be able to sleep without waking up screaming, and years before he didn't see the man’s face in every doe eyes teenager that he passed by. He wasn't going to remember it now, not if he could help it. Rick had no illusions about himself, he was a criminal, a murderer. If there was a hell, he was certainly going to it.