Page 58 of Witch's Wolf

“Hey, Erica…” Stacy calls from outside.

Frowning, I grab my suitcase before going back out.

“What is it?” I ask, walking over to her by my car. She’s staring out at the street so I drop my suitcase.

“Look at her,” Stacy says pointing down the street at a woman half a block down the street. “Where do I know her from?”

She looks out of place. Out of time even, but I know exactly who she is. Helena.

Dressed in a knee-length denim skirt and a white t-shirt, she stands on the sidewalk watching the passing cars like they’re something out of a sci-fi movie. Her gaze lingers on the houses, her expression shifting when she lands on the lone remaining Victorian-style estate. Maybe it’s the odd shade of purple that has her mesmerized.

“Hey!” I yell, striding past Stacy. “Helena! Over here!”

“Erica,” she says, her head snapping around, then she waves and smiles. “How are you?”

“Better than you, I think,” I say with a grin as I reach her. “Hate to say it, but you look lost.”

“It’s been forty years since I was last in New York City,” she says, watching a sleek black Mercedes rolling by. “It’s incredible how much has changed.”

“Forty years is a long time,” I say, shaking my head. “Eleven more than I’ve been alive.”

“Yes, but…” her voice drops to a whisper, tinged with awe. “Did you see that car? The smooth lines around its headlights? I wonder how much it costs.”

“About as much as that Victorian house you were just drooling over,” I say, stifling a laugh.

Helena frowns, clearly unamused. I pat her arm.

“Listen, we need to go shopping. I can’t have you walking around looking like you stepped out of an eighties ice cream commercial. Also, if you visit during the summer, do yourself a favor and invest in some sunblock.”

“We have bigger and more important problems than my wardrobe or skin protection, Erica,” Helena says, a familiar hardness in her voice that cuts through the easy banter. “I found the information I was looking for. I need you to gather everybody and bring them to meet with me at Edward’s sanctuary.” I open my mouth to protest, but she cuts me off with a glare before the words are even fully formed in my head. “I don’t want to repeat myself.”

“Sure,” I murmur, any desire for banter fading as fast as my plans for the evening.

Helena has spent too much of her life in the shadows. It shows in the way she dresses, the pallor of her skin, and in the way she holds herself. She looks like she’s braced for impact. As if the world is always only seconds from striking her down. She’s forgotten how to enjoy the small things, like a casual conversation. But even so I respect her.

It takes guts to return to a place she barely knows, and chase down deeply buried secrets. If I want the truth about what she’s uncovered, aboutmyself, I’ll have to ignore the sharp edges of her attitude.

Focus on the witch’s skill, not the woman’s flaws.

32

SAM

“I’m driving back to Dawson… with Helena.”

Erica’s text sends a ripple of confidence through my siblings. Within minutes, Raul and Ray are throwing out plans, weighing the pros and cons of every possible course of action.

It’s almost laughable how much stronger we all feel knowing the witch is back. How we believe we can claw our way out of any predicament because we have her power on our side. But when Erica’s second message arrives all of our excitement dies.

“Your grandpa’s sanctuary. Eight o’clock. Says she has information she needs to tell us.”

I show them the screen. Silence.

The strategizing is gone. Raul scratches his jaw, Ray folds his arms, both of them sinking into quiet thought. I don’t know what’s running through their heads, but I know why I’m not talking. Unlike them, I have patience.

We trust Helena. That’s not in question. What she found in the sprawling chaos of New York City, a place teeming with millions of humans and who knows how many monsters is the problem. Trying to guess what she found makes about as much sense as trying to punch through a brick wall with my bare fists.

So, I wait. Whatever it is, whatever truth she’s bringing with her, I’ll be ready.

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