Page 1 of Samhain Savior
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 andget 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 reallyusethe 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 thenarrow 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, sheswung 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.”
