Chapter 49
FORTY-NINE
SLOAN
Sloan was standing in a room—no, a plane of complete whiteness. All around her—the floor, the invisible ceiling, the walls were all so far away yet so close at the same time, and it was all a bright white.
“We’re in your head.”
Sloan jolted, turning to her right, where the red haired woman now stood. She had not been there a moment earlier, Sloan was sure of it.
“Are you positive I’m just not dead?” Sloan took a deep breath, placing a hand to her head where the bolt of magic had stricken her. Her hand came away clean. “Thanks for taking me out back there. I was about to do something stupid.”
“Well, that’s because you’re a stupid person, Charlotte Sloan.” The sorceress stood back with a raised eyebrow. “Taking care of everyone around you besides yourself, when you’re the key to the future.”
The idea that this woman reminded her of someone stuck out again, like an itch she just couldn’t reach; teased that she knew this woman somehow, the way she carried herself with poise and power at once.
“That’s pretty blunt,” Sloan said out loud, looking around the white room. “So this is my head, huh? I thought there would be more.”
“No.” The woman folded her arms inside her cloak. “This is the frame I built inside your mind. Your actual consciousness is a depressing place, mostly full of regret and loss, but you have a few bright spots with your friends and a certain shifter that turns into a big kitty.”
“I was about to get angry that you went snooping in my head.” Sloan shrugged with a exhale. “But I guess this is better than the alternative you saw. I can live in a world of white. So, who are you anyway? My fairy godmother?”
“You wish.” The woman walked over to a white wall. She waved her hand and a plain spot on the wood revealed a door handle. “One surprise at a time. First, I want you to see what your mind really looks like.”
“Why?” Sloan waved away the idea. “I don’t like dwelling on the past. I’m not going that way.”
“No, you’re not.” The woman opened the door anyway. “But to harness what you are today, you’re going to have to come to terms with the person you used to be. This isn’t an option. Don’t make me knock you out again and drag you through this door.”
“Has anyone told you that you’re not a great people person?” Sloan walked through the door. “I’m guessing your social circle is kind of small.”
Sloan’s banter stopped as soon as she walked through the doorway.
What stood in front of her now was a look at her entire life in a single view.
A massive open area was set out like real, lifesized pictures in a child’s book.
To her left was a baby being born to parents whose faces were masks of darkness; next, a young version of Sloan at the orphanage.
Besides that was an image of her going through drills as she joined the queen’s army, and so on and so on as the years passed.
“Look, and remember these images well,” the woman beside her said. “There are things you can never change, but there are things you can learn from.”
Sloan’s eyes drank in the sights one after the other.
Eventually, the view of her life began to catch up with present day events.
There was the initial meeting with Jack, Marcus, and Aareth before they traveled to investigate the killing of the Burrow Den beast; there was the fight with the first round of vampire soldiers when Aareth made his initial transition into the werewolf; there was her meeting with Kade. This image was brighter than the rest.
Finally, Sloan came to the last image: a picture of her looking down two roads. One path led up and was narrow, hedged in by bushes and trees. The other path was downhill, wide and easy to maneuver.
“I get it.” Sloan turned to the woman. “I’ll take the harder path if it means controlling what I am now.”
“Oh, you think you get it, do you?” The woman threw back her head and laughed out loud—a sound void of any true happiness. “I’ve sacrificed everything, and soon you will, too. But if you think you already know it all, why don’t I show you the future?”
Before Sloan could even decide if she wanted to know what was in store for her, the sorceress moved toward her and pressed her right thumb to the middle of Sloan’s forehead.
Images flashed so quickly in front of Sloan’s mind, she wasn’t sure what she was seeing.
There were angels fighting demons, red-eyed humans not quite vampire or werewolf, hordes of the undead rising from their ocean floor, and some kind of knights fighting in space.
In a flash, she was back in the white room. Sloan fell to her hands and knees, dry heaving. Her stomach was willing to give up everything inside it. Problem was, there wasn’t anything inside to throw up.
“What … what did I just see?” Sloan spat out more saliva onto the white floor in front of her. “What was that?”
“A future you will be part of.” The woman didn’t offer a hand.
Instead, she allowed Sloan to struggle to her feet by herself.
“Now I’m going to wake you up. When I do, I’ll offer you a pitcher of warm blood.
It’s rabbit blood. And you will drink it, because without that, you’re going to lose yourself again. Are we understood?”
Sloan just nodded.
“Good. Three. Two. One.”
Sloan sat bolt upright in a room she didn’t recognize. It was spacious, with a window overlooking the ocean and a salty breeze ruffling ceiling-high curtains.
“Drink this.” The same woman from her dreams handed Sloan a massive clear pitcher of dark red blood. “Hurry, before you make decisions you will regret.”
Sloan remembered her life—the images of most of it where she was alone, and now the most current ones where she was alive with friends and Kade who needed her. The memories of the impossible future that lay ahead also pushed her to drink the rabbit blood.
Without another thought, Sloan accepted the pitcher from the woman and drank greedily. The hot liquid poured down her throat, and the feeling was like being filled both physically and mentally. With every gulp, Sloan felt more alert and energized.
She drank so fast, the blood ran down her chin. Red drips stained her clothing. Sloan couldn’t care less. The feeling was intoxicating. Only when the pitcher was drained did Sloan bother to look up.
“Well, we’ve bought you some more time, but you need to feed at least once a week so you don’t reach the edge.
” The woman accepted the pitcher from Sloan and placed it on a white nightstand.
“Animal blood will do for now, but we should be able to engineer a substitute for you sooner or later. At the very least, some kind of appetizer for you to make the feedings less frequent.”
“You still haven’t told me who you are.” Sloan licked at her red lips. She was full, but at the same time, she loved the taste of fresh blood on her tongue. “Why are you helping me?”
“My name is Croft, but that will mean nothing to you. Now hurry up”—the sorceress motioned for Sloan to rise from the bed—“Theo will want to know how you are, and we have a war to plan.”
Realization hit Sloan like a bucket of cold water. At once, she knew who the woman reminded her of, and at the same time knew she was right in making the assumption.
“I knew you looked familiar.” Sloan rose, shaking a finger at the woman. “The red hair, the freckles, and your weird personality. You’re an Ahab. You’re Abigail and Elizabeth’s mother.”
Croft looked Sloan up and down. For a fraction of a second, her features softened. But just as fast as they did, the scowl returned. “That bolt of magic must have hit you harder than I thought.”
“Why did you leave them?” Sloan wiped the rest of the blood from her chin. She advanced on the sorceress. “You abandoned them to a madman.”
“You have no idea what you’re talking about.” Croft’s eyes flashed a burning anger. “Not all of us have the luxury of changing sides in a fight and still being called a hero.”
Sloan pressed the subject harder. “They don’t even know where you are. They lost their father. They could use a parent right about now.”
“An orphan lecturing me on parenting? Just because you never knew yours doesn’t mean you’re an expert on the subject. You don’t even have children.” Croft moved toward the door. “Now, can we move on from the subject? We have?—”
“No, we can’t just move on.” Sloan moved next to Croft and pushed the door Croft was opening, shut again. “I want answers.”
Croft trembled with rage under her black cloak. For a moment, Sloan thought she had pushed the sorceress too far.
“I left because I had a duty to protect the magical world. I kept my daughters and my husband in the dark because I did not want this burden to fall on them.” Croft’s hands trembled at her sides.
Yellow matter began to form around her knuckles.
“But I’ve failed, haven’t I? A power-hungry witch is tutoring one of my daughters, and the other is training to fight in a war the likes this world has never seen before.
Thank you for reminding me of my failures. ”
Sloan wasn’t sure what to say, so she said the only thing that came to mind: “Okay, now we can go.”