Chapter 28
Wyatt
Halloween dawned red and blurry, the sun barely making the effort to cut through the blue haze, but I rolled over when Fallon opened my front door, calling softly to Fern that it was time to go out.
I’m grateful for her help, and the privacy.
We have a policy about mission days—sleep as late as possible—but Fallon can’t ever manage it.
However, I can, so I tucked Alice under my chin and fell back asleep.
Now, I wake with a start, adrenaline running through me, my dreams a blank space in my mind.
Alice is sprawled out next to me, her arm thrown over my chest. I made her drink a ton of water, and she ate half a pizza before we slept, but we could still use a donut or two to stave off any lingering effects of a girls’ night with Fallon.
I slip out of bed, grabbing a worn Slice o’ Heaven t-shirt from my old Eastlake dresser. The clock next to the bed says it’s almost one. Alice stirs a little, her eyes bleary.
“Hey,” she whispers, her voice somewhat hoarse.
I can’t help but be pleased by that fact. I did have her making a racket last night. “Go back to sleep for a bit,” I urge her. “We’ve got a big evening in front of us. I’m going to get donuts.”
“Okay,” she murmurs, soft and sleepy, rolling over to the edge of the bed to slip her hand into mine. “You’re not sneaking away, then?”
I crouch down to push her blonde waves away from her face. “I’m not going anywhere but the bakery, sweet girl.”
She makes a happy noise, and then her breath evens out. She’s actually relaxed. When I open the door, Fern bounds in from the hall, climbing right into bed with Alice, who hugs her close.
Fallon’s sitting on my back deck. She’s wearing a near-ancient sweater, the pastel yarn woven into a pastoral scene with a bunch of sheep on it and a pair of track shorts so tiny I can barely see them.
“Put some damn clothes on,” I mutter at her. “You’ll catch cold.”
“You’re not the boss of me,” she spits back.
“Fair enough,” I reply, heading back into the house, my sister close behind.
In the kitchen, Fallon fills a twenty-ounce mason jar with water and slams the whole thing down before sighing.
“There’s nothing on that Sector woman. I went out to see Marion, and there’s nothing on CCTV whatsoever.
She knew her angles. Car went right outta town, too, then disappeared somewhere between Big Hill and the Roadhouse.
” Fallon clears her throat. “You know what that means.”
I hold back the urge to deny what we both know. It would feel better to pretend like Sector wasn’t overly interested in Alice, but it won’t do any of us a lick of good in the end. “Yeah.”
Fallon shakes her head, the same gritty determination in her eyes that’s taking root in my chest. “Been a while since they wanted someone from around here.”
She’s right. Sector hasn’t courted anyone from Blackbird Hollow in over a decade.
They came after a few of the more powerful witches when Caden was in high school, but they were so roundly turned out that they didn’t come back.
Well, they didn’t come back with those kinds of intentions, anyway.
We probably got too complacent. Can’t do a thing about that now.
“What’re we gonna do?” I ask.
Fallon sighs. “I went out to Cade’s last night, after I talked to Marion. I’ve got feelers out.”
I rest my shoulder on the side of the fridge, feeling worn through all of a sudden. There’s too many things happening at once, and I’m near-certain I’m missing something vital about all this. “What kind of feelers?”
Fallon sighs as she gets coffee out of the cabinet. She knows her way around my kitchen as well as I know hers. “The official kind.”
My eyebrows raise, shock running deep through me. “Council feelers?”
The sound of the coffee grinder obscures whatever my sister says, but she nods, her expression grim as I’ve ever seen it.
The Hedgerider Council was absolute shit when our parents died.
They did nothing but remind Fallon that she was duty-bound to keep up the family business and sent an amount of cash so meager it was gone in an instant.
We’ve hated them ever since—steered clear of them as much as we could.
There’s only a few ways they’d make Alice official, and it’s too soon for anything that serious, but if she were Council-official it would stop Sector from coming after her.
“You want her to stay,” I breathe.
Fallon narrows her eyes at me as she dumps the coffee grounds into the machine. “Yeah, I do. She makes you all gooey and easy to deal with, and…” Fallon trails off, the pain in her eyes nearly killing me. “She gets me. It’s not hard with Alice, like it is with other people.”
I reach out and squeeze Fallon’s shoulder, feeling the wiry muscle under her sheep-patterned sweater. “If they ask, you tell them I’ll comply with whatever their terms are. Can’t say how Alice will react to that, but it doesn’t have to be a whole thing.”
Fallon chuckles. “Yeah, I’m sure Alice will see marrying you as a casual event.” The humor drains out of her smile. “But I get the feeling an engagement might do the trick. We’re sure as shit not getting her Fey-blessed.”
That would require a trip under the hill, a bid to the Courts, and we’re all as likely to die or go mad as we are to come back with protection for Alice.
So we’re definitely not doing that. They’ll suggest it, though.
The Council is full of bastards like that.
Ancient councils are fucked-up business, after all.
I blow out a big, deep breath. “Well, we haven’t had a betrothal in the family since Mama and Pa. If that’s what it takes and Alice agrees, it’ll keep her safe for life.”
Hedgeriders can get a divorce, but once you’re in, by blood or by marriage, there’s no getting out. Fallon makes a noncommittal kind of noise as the coffee maker bubbles to life.
“What’s that about?” I ask.
She glances at me, a prim little smile on her face. “Nothing.”
“You don’t have nothing-face,” I reply, following her to the front porch.
“I’m going to make some eggs,” she says. “So if you’re going to get donuts, get at it.”
“Fallon.” I grab her sleeve. “You need to tell me if there’s something about all this you see as an issue.”
She shakes her head. “There isn’t.”
I think back, carefully examining my words to ferret out what I might have missed. What I might have said to make her react like this. It’s a game I’m good at with Fallon. My heart skips a beat.
“Who is it?” I growl. If the Council wants Fallon married off, I’ll be damned if I let that happen. “Who’re they trying to force on you?”
She sighs. “Nobody.”
My sister’s not big on outright lies, unless she’s running a mission. But she sure ain’t telling the truth right now. I don’t ask another question. I just stand and stare at her.
She looks up at me, then shakes her head. “It doesn’t matter, Wyatt. I’m old as the hills and he’s never come looking for me. Doubt there’s much chance that he’ll come this way now.”
Old as the hills. Is that really how she sees herself? I get it, though. Having to grow up as fast as we did fucked us both up. Still, this is all new information for me. “Mama and Pa already arranged something…before?”
My sister lets out a sharp bark of a laugh. “Of course they did. I’m the Hayes heir. Their union joined together two of the most important bloodlines in the North.” She shakes her head. “Did you think Mama wouldn’t trade me off like cattle at her quickest convenience?”
Her words are harsh, but she’s right. I’m not sure why I never wondered. Maybe we’ve been out here, away from other hedgeriders, for too long. Slowly, I shake my head. “If he ever does show up…whoever he is—”
Fallon throws a hand up in the air. “He ever shows up, and I’ll deal with it myself. Don’t worry about me. Worry about Alice.”
I’ve got an order in for hot donut holes and a half-pint of Mac’s hollandaise, but the diner’s bustling and there’s a bit of a wait, so I head across the town square to talk to Willa Proctor, who’s working in the community garden with Sally Laveau.
“Willa,” I call, just as she lifts a pumpkin into the wheelbarrow next to her. It’s huge, too big for her to lift on her own, probably, but Willa’s got a way with magic.
She looks up at me as she sets the pumpkin down, dragging the back of her hand over her pale forehead, leaving a streak of dirt. “Hiya, Wyatt,” she drawls.
She’s from out west somewhere, though I’ve never heard anyone say exactly where that is. Fallon hoped we’d hit it off when she moved here, but we never did. Not romantically, anyway. Willa’s just about as gun-shy as I was ’til Alice showed up.
Today, Willa’s dark brown hair is pulled back in two thick braids. She’s wearing a cotton floral dress and a pair of heavy work boots. As soon as she sees my expression, she asks, “What’s wrong?”
“Your wards,” I explain. “Out at Cade’s. They let some redcaps through.”
“Shit,” she breathes out, but there’s not a scrap of panic in her eyes. “Tell me what you saw.”
I nod, recounting the scene to her as best I can.
Her amber eyes are solemn and attentive as a hawk’s, her sharp features drawn with concern.
She looks ancient and impossibly young all at once, like all the most powerful witches.
I take a moment to wonder if we’ve all missed something about Willa.
If there might be more to her than just her uncommon talent for wards.
“Mossy footprints?” she asks, shaking her head. “That’s not redcaps or pixies. Nor’s it likely to be the hellhounds.”
“Not exactly footprints,” I muse. “Sort of, but…I don’t know, not really formed. Just made me think of footprints, I guess.”
She nods, glancing at Sally, who shakes her head. “That’s one of the High. Hard to say which one.” Sally’s eye catches sight of Belle, who’s pulling carrots. “Stay in that row, baby girl.” She winks at me. “Don’t want her pulling up the mandrake just yet.”
Willa smiles at the little girl before turning back to me. “I’ll get out there tomorrow, after the Hunt’s gone, and take a look.”
“Thank you,” I reply, though there’s something in Willa’s voice that hesitates, like she’s unsure about something. I glance down at the giant gourd in her wheelbarrow and grin, sure I’ve sussed out the source of her uncertainty. “Can I help you get this monster pumpkin somewhere?”
Willa laughs. “No, I’ve got it. It’s for the gym.”
I nod, frowning a little as I follow her across the square. We’re all on edge today. “It was a good idea to do trick-or-treating there tonight—should keep our kids and the leafer kids safe. Wanda says you thought of it.”
Willa smiles faintly, but her eyes are sad. “Kids are precious. Can’t have ’em snatched up.”
I wonder what that sadness is about for the briefest of moments, but as we pause to cross the street, Willa’s hand skims across her belly, and the sadness in her eyes intensifies. Sorrow pangs in my chest. Too many of us have been through too much.
Barnes Whitney waves from across the street, shouting that Janey’s got my order ready.
“Good luck tonight,” Willa says as we part ways. Her fingers brush my arm as she passes. It’s a friendly gesture that leaves me warm and a little sleepy-feeling. I blink a little as she says, “I’ll call tomorrow evening and let you know what I find out about your footprints.”
“Thanks,” I reply, before jogging in the opposite direction. I have the nagging feeling that I’ve forgotten something, but I’m not sure what it is. There’s probably just too much going on today.
Barnes waits for me. “Got everything ready for tonight. We need an extra gun or two? My cousin Julius came up with Mona last night.”
Barnes’s cousins are worth ten of the folk around here when it comes to dealing with Them, and Julius’s wife Mona was a sharpshooter in the last of the conflicts out West. “I’d sure appreciate it.
You all head out to the house in a couple of hours and we’ll get you fitted with the right ammo. Cade’s got a couple of new toys.”
Barnes raises an eyebrow. “Blackstone?”
I nod, glaring a little. “Sure thing. Kid’s got a death wish, but it’s convenient this time.”
He grins, shaking his head. “We’ll keep ’em in line.” With a clap on my shoulder, he squints at me. “We’ve got this, Hayes. This time tomorrow, we’ll be out at Lupine Falls getting the bonfire started.”
I nod, but there’s a tight sort of feeling in my throat. Mama always used to say that nothing’s over ’til it’s over, and I’m afraid she’s right.
Janey sticks her head out the door of the diner, a paper bag in hand that smells like maple donuts, bacon, and buttery goodness. “Mac fried up some bacon, and put some of those crumbles into the butter for dipping, the way Fallon likes.”
“Thank you, Janey,” I reply as she blows me a kiss.
Barnes nods to me. “See you in a bit.”
“Sounds good,” I say, turning back toward the truck.
The sun feels like it never rose all the way today, and there’s a tense feeling in the chill air, like time’s about to stop. I feel a little relieved that Julius and Mona showed up, but the only thing that gets us through tonight is to keep moving. It’s time to get this show on the road.
As I pull up to my house, Caden and Fallon are out front with Fern and Alice. Fern dances around, while Fallon laughs so hard that she has to wipe her eyes, and Cade’s face is red, while Alice moves her hands, describing something I can’t hear just yet.
Her eyes sparkle with delight that they’re laughing, but she’s not giggling at her own tale.
There’s nothing that looks like the tension she held in her face last night about Cookie, but there’s a tightness to her movements I’ve come to recognize as worry lurking beneath her skin.
But then her gaze snags on the truck, her eyes going straight to mine, and she looks almost peaceful, her shoulders relaxing the tiniest measure.
And in that moment, I know I’m done for. All I’ve ever wanted is for someone to look at me like that. To look at me like I’m just the thing they were waiting for. And my heart nearly bursts, because I was waiting for her, too.