12. Cormac
Cormac
“ A wonderful day for a birthday,” Aurora said before smiling.
“Why?” I kept my hands from shaking as I wrapped the gauze around the smashed leaves, holding them in place.
“That is the day I was born. Only a few years later.” Her words were steady and measured as she eyed my hands.
I refused to look up, not only because I knew one wrong move and I could snap her ankle but also because I was afraid of what I might see in her eyes. Would it be curiosity or fear? “Something in common,” I mumbled.
“Yeah...” She dropped her hand to the stone as though to steady herself. “You’re not American. Why were you here during the Civil War?”
“How do you know I’m not?” I wrapped the gauze with a piece of plastic before starting on the elastic wrap.
“Your accent.”
“You’re right. My family came here before the war started. It was time for us to move again, and we doubted any of the tensions would come to war. My mother was fascinated with what was happening in the States then, so we followed her.” My heart dropped as I spun a tale about why my family came to America when we actually came at her coven’s invitation.
She furrowed her brow. “Your mother? An adoptive mother, right?”
I finished the last wrapping on her foot and lifted my eyes to her as I smiled. “That is a story for another day. How does that feel?”
Aurora looked at the wrapping and nodded. “Much better. Thank you for getting everything.”
“Oh, one more thing,” I said, darting to the tree I had slept against. I retrieved a pair of crutches from behind it, which I carried over to her. “So you can stay off it.”
She laughed, a genuine sound that rang through the trees. “You’ve thought of everything. I couldn’t ask for a better doctor.”
Her eyes caught mine as I looked down at her sitting on the rock. I could hear the rapid beating of her heart; her breath caught in her throat as she searched my eyes with her own. Time froze around us until she tore her gaze from mine.
She cleared her throat. “Have you been here since then?”
I turned away from her. “No, we returned home in 1876. My father insisted we leave the States.”
“I guess I can’t ask about your father, either?”
I shook my head.
“What happened? Why did you leave?”
“A friend of the family died in childbirth, which was very difficult for the youngest of our clan, whom we had recently adopted. The baby was lost as well.” I turned back in time to see Aurora tilt her head. “Our friend was human. We do have those occasionally.”
“Ah. I’m sorry for your loss.” She paused and forced a deep breath. “I lost my mother in childbirth.”
I kneeled in front of her, laying my hand over hers. “I’m sorry.” I stared at our joined hands momentarily, surprised she wasn’t pulling away before I lifted my eyes to hers.
“It was a while ago,” she said, breaking our bond and crossing her arms over her stomach.
“Only a breath in my life, so the pain must still be intense.”
She nodded before she forced a smile. I wanted to wrap her in my arms to comfort her, but I spoke instead. “Surely you and your sister must console each other.”
She shook her head. “I’m an only child. My aunt raised me with her daughter, and I have my coven...”
“But...” The High Priestess always had two daughters. It was how their coven functioned. If Aurora had no sister, what did that mean for their future? Was this nature’s way of punishing the witches for aligning with the hunters? And without them to balance the forces between the hunters and the vampires, what did it mean for my family?
“It’s okay,” Aurora said with a shrug, obviously misinterpreting my silence. “I’m used to it.” Her eyes darted around. “Maybe we should focus on exactly what to do with that lineage? Where is it?”
“Buried under some leaves at the base of the tree. I didn’t want you trying to track me if you woke while I was getting supplies.”
She cocked an eyebrow. “Did you steal them?”
“Hardly. But you would try to run after me on that ankle and really be in pain. At least with it here, you wouldn’t go far.”
She flattened her lips into a line. “Point taken.”
I stood. “As much as I enjoy nature, I wonder if we wouldn’t be more comfortable elsewhere,” I blurted. If I didn’t get this out, I would lose my nerve.
“What do you mean?”
“You can no longer hike out of here on your own. I have a place just outside of the park. I would be honored if you would be my guest for a few days while you heal.” I stood tall, delivering the invitation as I would to a queen.
Her eyes clouded as she considered my words. “I’m safe here.” She gestured toward her circle.
“From supernaturals, yes. But I give you my word that you will also be safe in my home. I do not wish you any harm, and it will allow us to determine our next steps.”
Her muscles tensed, her pressed lips bordering on a frown. “What makes you think we’re working together?”
“Other than your exasperated fine last night, it is a hope—one I wish you would share. I’m not ready to be rid of you.” It was the closest I could come without admitting my feelings for her, however odd they seemed—to feel this way for a witch after nine hundred years. At least if she helped search for the Cure, it would give me time to figure it out.