Chapter Fifteen
Wyn was sleeping whenAmy found Gia outside maybe two hour hours later.
He’d started crying when the shade made her grim pronouncement and he’d flung himself at the ephemeral creature, making contact in a startling turn of events.
The shade hadn’t fought him.
She’d gone to her knees before the boy and taken his face in her hands, murmuring to him in words even Gia hadn’t been able to understand. Less than a minute later, he’d broken away from the shadow and gone to his mother, clinging to her.
The shade had disappeared and Gia knew she wasn’t just out of sight as she sometimes was.
No.
Her shadow was on the prowl, hunting for the mysterious they Amy had warned them about—and for Ronna Greene.
Amy’s shuffling footsteps on the cold, wet earth were loud enough to wake the dead, but Gia remained where she was, her focus on the direction she was planning to use as their way out, once Sorin returned from his reconnaissance. He was investigating the direction they’d been heading, a route that had been on course to intersect with the main road in less than two miles, heading north, with a slight easterly direction once they got a little closer to the road.
Now they were going to head back to the south, toward the mountains.
Gia could do it easily, as could Sorin. Either of them could carry the boy.
But Amy was worn out and tired.
It wasn’t going to be as easy to leave as it had been to come in.
They all knew it.
Amy’s instinctual fear of Sorin was going to make it worse, too.
But when Gia had told her the plan, Amy had just nodded, her face pale and tight.
When Amy came to stand next to her at the old stone barrier, Gia braced herself for the argument she’d been expecting.
But Amy didn’t give her that one.
“Take my son.”
Gia dropped her hands from the stone wall and turned to the human. “What?”
“You heard me.” Her eyes were red-rimmed and dry, but the evidence of tears shed lingered. “Take him and go. You and Sorin can make this trip, even carrying Wyn. I can’t.”
“I’m not leaving you behind to be taken prisoner.” Gia set her jaw and looked away.
“Still trying to save me?”
That was a part of it. But...she closed her eyes a minute, regret, sadness and knowledge a bitter brew inside her.
“And still trying to save others from me,” Amy added quietly.
Gia met her gaze over the inches that separated them.
Amy didn’t look away, not this time. Her throat worked as she swallowed. “I’m not planning to...be here once she arrives, Gia.”
“What do you...” Gia stopped as she realized what Amy meant. The words trapped in her throat as a torrent of anger, empathy and frustration rose.
Amy darted a look in her direction, then away as she said, “My mother is the one who told me to come here. She...knew Ronna, vaguely. Their mothers were friends, my grandmothers. There were several of them that I can remember from when I was little. I think they probably...trained together. This witch stuff. They were friends with a couple of others, three women, and this one guy. A coven, maybe.” She swallowed and chanced another look at Gia, one hand nervously rubbing her chest. “The guy, he was...nice. His name was Lucas and he used to tell me stories about ‘the old country’. He was from England, moved over here after World War II with his wife. I thought she was in the group, too, but she got sick and died. But he stopped coming. That was a year or two after my grandpa died. After Lucas stopped coming, Mom and me didn’t go to Gran’s much. We’d go once or twice a year, but then I turned thirteen and after my birthday visit, we stopped going altogether. We didn’t even go to her funeral.”
“Do you know why?” Gia was impatient, but her gut told her Amy had reasons for telling her this.