Samhain Savior (31 Days of Trick or Treat: Biker & Mobster #21)

Prologue

Delilah

“Wake up!”

The voice was familiar, cutting through my slumber and drawing me back into consciousness.

The tone, however, was not familiar at all. Frightened and anxious, I had never heard Mother Heidi sound so terrified. Sitting up in my bed, I held the blanket to my chest as I tried to blink the sleep out of my eyes.

“Out of bed, Delilah,” she urged, flicking on the light and flooding my small room with brightness. “You need to get up, child. Now.”

Confused, I frowned at her as she threw open the doors to my wardrobe, pulling out the satchel I carried with me whenever we went foraging and tossing it onto the foot of the bed before starting to dig through it, checking the contents.

“Mother Heidi?” I muttered, trying to make sense of the scene before me. “What’s going on?”

“It’s time, Delilah,” she said, her eyes wild. “Now do as you’re told and get up!”

Responding to her urgency, I scrambled out of bed, shivering as my bare feet landed on the wooden floor of my attic bedroom. The nights were growing colder here in Pike Creek, the damp air off the Delaware River sinking into my very bones.

The seasons were changing, the threshold of winter creeping ever closer, and I could sense that more than just the leaves would fall this autumn.

“Grab your grimoire, girl. There’s no time.”

Shuffling over to the writing desk, I opened the drawer and drew out the leather-bound notebook that was my most prized possession; Mother Heidi had gifted it to me when I’d attended my first sabbat.

Decorated with a variety of runes and protection charms, the book held everything I’d ever learned as a witch, the notes inside changing from my childish scrawl to my current and more elegant handwriting as I’d aged.

Twenty-five years of learning and knowledge held within a binding made of rabbit skin.

I cherished it.

Even if I’d been unable to ever really use the knowledge it contained.

Holding the book to my chest, I turned from the desk, noting that Heidi had finished with the satchel and was now retrieving the backpack I kept under my bed, fully stocked for this exact reason.

They’d found us.

Finally shaking off the last of my hazy sleep, I stuffed the grimoire into the satchel and darted across the room to my dresser, pulling out a pair of leggings and a gray cotton dress, throwing both on before hastily braiding my hair.

“Come on, child. You must hurry.”

“I’m almost ready,” I muttered, slinging the small, custom-made pouch across my body before reaching into the wire cage that sat on the desk. “I just need to grab Pandora.”

“Leave her,” Heidi hissed, her face creased with worry. “She’ll only slow you down.”

Pandora clicked indignantly at Heidi’s words, her small nose twitching as she chittered at me.

“I’d never leave you,” I insisted, scooping the hedgehog up in my hand and slipping her into the pouch. It was where she always rode, after all. Pandora and I were inseparable, which Heidi knew, but the panic in her voice told me she was just worried.

Sliding my feet into a pair of ankle-high boots, I zipped them up and made for the door, following Heidi down the narrow stairs to the back of the shop.

We’d only been renting the tiny two-bedroom apartment for three months, but for some reason, I was sad to leave it behind.

Living above a garage wasn’t exactly my dream house, but I had to admit there was something comforting about the smell of motor oil and the classic rock music the guys played while they changed oil and rotated tires.

When I’d come down during opening hours, they were always friendly, none of them looking at me with suspicion or, worse, outright hatred like I’d gotten whenever Heidi and I had tried to live around our own kind.

It was one of the few places I'd ever felt normal, and I knew I'd miss it more than I should. Here, I was just the quiet girl from upstairs who helped old Mrs. Peterson with her groceries and waved at the mechanics every morning. Not the freak witch who couldn't perform magic.

Not the hunted child whose very existence made other witches nervous. Just... Delilah.

Pushing out the door, Heidi and I stood at the side of the garage, the roll-up doors locked up tight for the night, and I tried to get my heart rate back under control.

Even though I’d been prepped for this night for most of my life, the reality of it was more than a little daunting.

“Alright,” Heidi said, holding out the straps of the backpack for me to slide into.

Offering a sad smile, she swung a heavy wool cloak around my shoulders, settling it over the bag and down my back and securing the clip at my throat.

“You know what to do, right?” I nodded, licking my lips as my eyes scanned the empty street, looking for the threat Heidi seemed sure was coming.

“When you get to New York, you find the priest, Father Phips. He’ll need to see the necklace,” she added, nodding at the silver chain I wore around my neck, and the clay pendant that hung from it.

The pendant was simple clay, handmade and worn smooth from twenty-five years against my skin, but it was pressed with symbols on both sides.

Phips would no doubt recognize the first; a flame enclosed in a circle, the symbol of his Brotherhood.

But it was the symbol on the other side that was the real mystery—Heidi had made sure of that.

She had given it to me as a child, and I hadn’t ever taken it off.

“Once he sees it, he’ll help you.” She paused, a frown on her face as she stared at me earnestly.

“You can trust him, Delilah. He’ll keep you safe. ”

“Keep us safe, you mean?” I questioned, but Heidi just shook her head.

“Not this time, child.”

“Mother Heidi—” I protested, but she raised one finger, halting my words.

“I’m old, Delilah. I’ve done all the running I can. Now it’s my turn to stand and fight.”

“No!” I shook my head frantically, a lump forming in my throat. “I can’t go without you!”

“You can. It’s what we’ve been working toward since you came to me as a babe.”

“But I’m not—I’m not ready!” I protested, a slight panic rising in my chest. “Heidi, you know I can’t—”

I didn’t say the words, but she knew, and the gentle pity on her face told me she understood.

I couldn’t access my magic.

Not in any way that truly mattered.

Sure, I could light a candle—maybe—if I concentrated hard enough, or sense when another witch was nearby, but the powerful spells Heidi wielded so effortlessly? The ones that could save lives or end them? They remained as elusive as smoke, slipping through my fingers every time I reached for them.

“Not yet,” she whispered, her face soft with understanding. “But you will. I know you will.”

Reaching out, she clasped my cheeks in her hands, and for the first time, I realized what she said was true.

Heidi was old, older than anyone should be when they were constantly on the run.

For more than twenty years, Heidi and I had been moving across the country, stopping only long enough to catch our breath before they caught up with us again and we were forced to flee into the night.

Pressing my hand over hers, I turned my head and pressed a kiss to her palm, trying to express without words all the things I was feeling in the moment.

“I know, Delilah. I love you, too.”

Behind us, a sound shattered the quiet night, like glass breaking, and Heidi turned, grim-faced, as she shuffled me behind her, placing her body between me and whatever was coming.

“Go, Delilah,” she hissed over her shoulder, but I shook my head. “You can’t fight them, not like I can.”

“No!” I pleaded once more. I might not have had access to the same strong magic that she did, but that didn’t mean I was helpless. “I’m not leaving you!”

“You are,” she insisted, chancing a look back at me. “You are leaving because you are important. More important than a hundred old hags like me. Now go. Find the priest and do what he says. The Brotherhood will protect you. I’ll hold them off as long as I can.”

I could hear them now, their footsteps trudging down the street, dark, menacing laughter rolling on the night wind.

“Give us the child!”

The voice that called out was honey-sweet and utterly terrifying—the kind of voice that belonged in children's nightmares. “Hand her over, Heidi. We know she's here. We can smell her fear."

I shivered as the words reached me, the pure hatred in them feeling like a whip across my skin. She was right; I was afraid. Because these witches were stalking down the street in the middle of the night for a reason.

They were coming for me.

I knew Heidi wanted me to run; it was what we’d always done, but this time, I didn’t agree with her. I wanted to stay. To stand and fight the way she was going to. The way I knew I was supposed to be able to fight, if my magic would ever just cooperate.

But under that bravado was a hollow pit of fear. As though something inside me was missing, a hole carved out where the strength I would need to win this battle belonged, but no matter how I tried to find it, it simply wasn’t there now.

For years, I’d tried to fill that hole. To bridge the gap between my knowledge of magic and its execution.

But no matter how hard I’d trained, how many hours I’d spent memorizing spells and studying ancient grimoires, I’d never been able to reach deep inside me to find the well of magic that Heidi assured me was there.

I’d only ever found the hole.

It was that feeling, that shaking emptiness, that kept me from running toward the cackling horde of witches headed our way.

Even if it made me a coward.

“Please come with me,” I begged, grasping Heidi’s arm desperately. “Please.”

“The girl’s already dead, Heidi, so why bother fighting?” A woman’s voice called out, closer than before. “I’ll even let you keep her corpse.”

“Delilah, for the love of all things, just go!”

“I—”

“Go!”

At that, I turned, tears already blurring my vision as years of obeying Heidi kicked in instinctively. My legs felt like lead, but I forced them to carry me across the gravel yard, each step feeling like a betrayal even though I knew it was what she wanted.

I sprinted hard, my boots carrying me across the gravel yard and into the dense trees behind the garage. Heidi hadn’t chosen our apartment at random—a witch needed nature, and while Delaware wasn’t exactly known for its forests, she had managed to find us something that suited nicely.

At the tree line, I stopped, turning again to stare at Heidi as she stood, her hands hanging loosely at her sides, magic crackling along her fingertips as she prepared to fight. Prepared to defend my life with her own.

Pandora poked out of her pouch, beady black eyes focused on Heidi as she offered up a few mournful huffs before disappearing back inside and out of the cold.

“She’ll be okay,” I whispered, mostly to myself. “I’ve never known a stronger witch.”

Knowing I needed to leave before all Heidi’s hard work and sacrifice was for nothing, I ran, my feet carrying me deeper into the trees, my cloak billowing out as the darkness swallowed me.

I hadn’t made it very far at all when her scream rang out, my heart rending in two. I choked out a sob, the sadness and fear slicing me deep, but I kept running, even as the tears started to fall.

It was what Heidi had wanted, after all.

Now I just had to hope the Brotherhood could hold up their end of the bargain.