Chapter 12 - Emma
I was just finishing breakfast when Elias came into the room, rubbing his face in exhaustion as he yawned.
“Morning,” I said, trying to ignore how my wolf perked in interest at his arrival.
“Morning. How’s Grace?”
The fact that those were the first three words out of his mouth sent a rush of warmth through me.
“She’s doing better,” I said. “She was running all over the place this morning like she didn’t stay up half the night.”
He cracked a grin. “Part of pre-transformation is way too much energy,” he said. “So, she’s going to be a wild child for the next few weeks at least. Fair warning.”
“Thanks for the warning,” I said. My parents had never bothered to tell me anything about shifting once it became obvious that I never would.
Bitter resentment rose in my throat like bile.
If they hadn’t been so dismissive of me, maybe I would have been able to help Grace more last night.
Instead, I’d been completely and utterly inept, unable to help my daughter as she whimpered through those early pre-transformation stages.
The thought gnawed at me, and, once again, I found myself thanking the heavens that Elias had come when he did.
His eyes swept the area, landing on the full carafe of coffee.
“I made extra after last night,” I said, perhaps unnecessarily.
“You’re a saint,” he muttered. As he brushed past me, his hand slipped to my waist, a small gesture of gratitude that seemed to electrify me through my shirt.
“It’s the least I can do,” I said as he grabbed a mug from the cabinet and poured coffee nearly to the brim. I hesitated as he turned back to face me, suddenly incredibly self-conscious. “Thank you, by the way,” I said. “For last night.”
He blinked, as if surprised, then tilted his head as an amused smirk flickered across his face.
“What? Did you think I was just going to let you go through all that alone? I could sense how stressed out you were through the bond.” He sipped his coffee.
“I didn’t know what was going on at first, but there was no way in hell I was ever going to let you go through whatever you were dealing with alone. ”
“I don’t know what I was expecting,” I admitted.
He gave me a speculative look, as if he understood all the implications behind those few words. After a moment, he placed the still-steaming mug on the counter and came to stand in front of me.
“I know I’ve still got a lot to make up for until you trust me entirely,” he muttered. “But please know that I would never let you or Grace suffer on your own.”
My heart fluttered as I felt pinned by his gaze. And to my surprise, or maybe not, I believed him.
“Thank you,” I said.
Again, just like the night before, he hesitated, as if wanting to kiss me but holding back. A moment later, he stepped back and checked his watch.
“We’re going out on patrol,” Elias said. “Hopefully, we might be able to get more information on the sand wraith. Right now, we’re sort of flying blind.”
“What are you looking for exactly?” I asked
He exhaled, eyes flashing as he glowered. “Information. Any sort of information. At the moment, we have almost nothing. We’re still not entirely sure why it started appearing in the first place, or what it wants, other than worrying the town and causing as much devastation as possible.”
“Be safe,” I said.
He paused as he looked me up and down. I didn’t miss the hunger or longing that lurked in his eyes. For a brief moment, I knew instinctively, or maybe it was through the mating bond, that it was taking every inch of his willpower not to pin me against the wall and claim me right then and there.
That didn’t alarm me. What alarmed me was that, despite myself, part of me wanted him to. God, I desperately wanted him to. But I couldn’t. Not yet. Not when I was still worried he would break me again, maybe this time worse than before.
“I’ll do my best,” he said, and he was gone.
***
Later, I sat at the kitchen table, alone with nothing more than my thoughts, now that Grace had gone to school.
I drummed my fingers on the table as I chewed my lip, debating. I had never been the type of person who liked to just sit by and do nothing, and after last night…
It was too late for Grace. The transformation had already started. Sooner or later, she would start shifting. I would never be able to get those whimpers out of my head or the sight of her curled up in pain.
Elias had said other children were experiencing similar symptoms. I didn’t want to subject any other parents to having to watch their children suffer like I had last night. If there was anything I could do to help, then I would.
The problem was how I could help. I couldn’t shift, so I couldn’t hunt for the wraith’s lair with the others. I could barely wield magic, and I didn’t think making water hot would help defeat a sand wraith.
I had to do something. I couldn’t just sit here. So what could I do?
I could do some research. There had to be information on wraiths somewhere, places where others might not think to look.
I racked my brain. Wraiths were magic. The elders distrusted anything to do with magic.
They tolerated the Oracle, but that was it.
I remembered that when I was a kid, any information on magic was hidden in a secluded, private section of the library that no one but leadership could access.
And none of the elders would dare research magic, given their distaste for it.
However, as of the other week, “leadership” now includes me.
If I were going to be the pack luna, I should use the position for good rather than sitting around here doing nothing.
The fewer people who had to go through what I did last night, the better.
Besides, this was my home now. I sure as hell wasn’t going to let some wraith put my home, my daughter, my mate in harm’s way if I could do something about it.
The chair scraped against the tile as I pushed myself away from the table. I had a plan.
***
The library was a large brick structure a couple of streets back from the oasis, close enough that I could hear the soothing sound of running water.
The sun beat down overhead, baking the earth and causing sweat to prickle at the back of my neck as I walked up the stone steps to the main doors.
The A/C felt like a soothing balm as cold air blasted my face.
I saw a thin librarian sitting at the desk. Her hair was pulled back in a tight, stereotypical bun, not a black hair out of place.
“May I help you?” she asked.
“I was hoping I could take some time to look at your books on magic,” I said, trying to keep my tone light, pleasant, and innocuous.
The librarian pursed her lips, looking at me suspiciously.
I kept the smile on my face, forcing myself not to show the irritation rippling through me.
Clearly, I still had a lot of work to do to ingratiate myself with the rest of the town.
Asking to look at books on magic wasn’t exactly going to endear me to the pack, and I wouldn’t have been surprised if this librarian decided to let it slip I had been in here.
But at the moment, I couldn’t afford to be self-conscious or care.
If there was any chance I could get the information I needed from those books, then let her talk.
Eventually, though, the woman gave a tight-lipped smile and guided me deep into the library. She unlocked a door and held it open for me, revealing a small room with shelves lining each wall, several of them behind locks and glass. A small reading table stood in the middle of the windowless room.
With a curt, still-suspicious nod, the librarian left me a ring of tiny keys before spinning on her heels and hurrying out of the room, closing the door behind her.
Taking a deep breath, I turned and scanned the shelves, fingers running along the spines of the books as I tried to figure out where the hell to start.
I doubted the wraith had been summoned, so those books were worthless.
Same with general casting and ones on cantrips.
Potions and herbs looked like an interesting read, but not what I would need.
My finger caught on one book, for no reason in particular. I paused as I looked at the title.
A Genealogy of Witches
I couldn’t explain it, but something tugged at me as I regarded the book. It called to me. I doubted it had anything to do with wraiths, but for whatever reason, a compulsion took over.
I pulled it out and sat down to read, the book splayed out in front of me. I flipped through the pages with interest, not really sure what I was looking for, or what might have compelled me to pick up this book.
The answer appeared as I turned another page. I stopped, breath catching as I came to one family tree in particular. The Williamses from Spring Coven, located near Adobe Creek.
The surname didn’t give me pause, not right away. What caught my attention was a single name, written a couple of generations from the bottom of the tree.
Dierdre Williams.
I knew that name, but it seemed so strange to see it here, of all places. It took me a long moment to accept that I was reading it properly.
Dierdre Williams.
The same name as my great-grandmother.
There was a single thin line that connected her to a husband, but instead of a name, a violent, almost angry scrawl stated: Outside of Coven. Looking closer at Dierdre’s name, I saw, in that same furious scribble: Excommunicated.
My fingers ran across the name, then that single word beneath it. Whoever had created the tree had been so angry at Dierdre’s choice of partner that they had refused to even put their name down. It was my great-grandfather, Jonas Porter, on my father’s maternal side.
My father had never spoken much about his side of the family. I wondered if he even knew this piece of history. Had Jonas and Dierdre kept it a secret from their children? Had Dierdre even told Jonas? It would explain why no one in my family had ever mentioned anything remotely like this.