Page 3

Chapter Two

M arric Ransome walked along the fence in the back forty. It was getting on to dusk, and he’d been up all night. Burglaring in daylight was nearly impossible, especially in a town filled with various types of paranormal beings.

He didn’t need to bother with a scent suppressant. He was already a mixed-up mess of a person. He didn’t smell all woodsy like a wolf did, and he didn’t smell entirely herbal like a witch either.

Not that Marric could smell himself. Who the hell could? He’d been told by some of his pack that he was different often enough. Some have said he smelled as if thyme grew in the forest.

For wolves, scent was everything.

Marric started to sweat, which wouldn’t have been a big deal if the summer night air hadn’t been on the chillier side. The summer hadn’t been very warm. They’d had a few good days, but not as many as in years past. His sweating had nothing to do with the weather.

He knew he had a fever again. He didn’t have to check his temperature. As sweaty as he was, he was also so cold, his teeth chattered.

Marric quickened his pace, wanting to get to the house before his fever spell got any worse. He would have liked to enjoy watching the sun come up in the field. That’s why he’d come out here after his night of breaking and entering instead of going into the house and going to bed.

By the time he bypassed the barns and was in the yard, he shook. His body felt separated from his mind, as if he were outside himself.

He heard his dad curse before he saw him. Dad scooped Marric up in his arms as if he weighed nothing.

Kinnison Ransome was almost a foot taller and a hundred pounds heavier than Marric.

Marric took after his mother’s side of the family.

His sister Emery had several inches on him, even though she was twelve years younger.

She might have grown even more if not for the illness. She was too young to be so sick.

“I’ll get the healer.” Kinnison carried Marric into the house and up the stairs. “She’s with Emery right now.”

“Is… Em-ery… o-ok-ay?” Every word Marric spoke felt as though it came from someone else. Speaking was more of a challenge than finding the needle in the haystack that was the spell book with the cure for their illness.

“She had a bad night, but she’s sleeping now.” That was all Kinnison said. It was enough to tell Marric their time was running out. Even Marric was getting worse.

“N-no…sp-sp…ell…book.” He might have been going about it all wrong. Maybe the book wasn’t in Fortune Falls. Maybe their illness had nothing to do with Regan showing up at their doorstep all those months ago. Or someone murdering Tory the year before.

But Marric didn’t believe in coincidences.

“I could try to find a witch who we can trust to search for the book. You’re getting too sick to go out.” Kinnison winced because they were apprehensive about trusting anyone, including the coven in Timeston.

Marric shook his head. He wished he could yell in protest. They didn’t know why Emery had gotten sick.

Or why Marric had become ill as well four months later.

But he had to find the cure. It was unusual for wolves to get sick.

Marric and Emery’s immune system should have protected them from almost every virus and infection.

“We’re running out of time.”

“N-no. N-not… yet.” Eventually the fever would pass. He wasn’t so far into the illness for it not to, but it would take a while. It always did, and it left him depleted.

When they arrived in Marric’s bedroom, the healer was already there. Miss Marie was the only one they trusted, and that was because they didn’t have a choice.

Miss Marie pulled the blanket back, and Dad laid him on the bed, taking off his shoes. Dad took off his jacket before pulling the blankets around him.

He left for a moment, mumbling about finding more blankets.

The healer brought over a steaming cup of what he knew was an herbal tea blend. She set the cup on the nightstand before sitting on the side of the bed. I’m going to help you drink your tea.”

Marric nodded and let her prop pillows underneath him before she put the cup to his lips.

Her soft white hair brushed against his cheek. She’d always been more like a grandmother than their doctor. She hugged him. “It will all work out. You’ll see.”

She used to be friends with his mother. Sometimes Marric would go with his mom when she visited Miss Marie. Miss Marie had given him cookies and milk. And he’d sit there while they gabbed.

Her body heat helped make him warmer than the blankets. He wished he could stay like that for longer, but she pulled back and handed him the mug.

“Drink it all, pup. Every drop.” She had bright blue eyes that hadn’t diminished as she aged. But the laugh lines when she smiled told a bit of her story.

He was still shaking, but he got about half of it down before giving up. He shook his head as he slumped against the headboard.

Dad came in with blankets in his arms and Regan following him. Regan also carried a blanket. It was bigger than he was.

Regan dumped his blanket at the end of the bed and then sat next to Marric, meeting his gaze with a frown. A lock of his dark hair fell on his face.

“Grandpa says you’re feeling bad again.” Regan scooted closer.

“A…l-little…b-bad.” It still amazed him how Regan took to their family as if he’d always been one of them and they hadn’t found him nearly beaten to death and hanging on by a thread.

Marric drank a little more of the tea when Miss Marie gave him the stink-eye.

“Emery needed to cuddle, but she’s sleeping now. Do you need to cuddle, Papa?”

Marric nodded, and that was all it took for Regan to get under the blankets and press against his side.

Marric put an arm around Regan. “Th-thanks.”

Regan touched his forehead, as if he were taking his temperature.

Dad covered them with another blanket.

Miss Marie took the cup away and focused on Regan. “You’re a good boy.”

Regan seemed to soak up the praise as if he hadn’t gotten a lot before stumbling into their yard.

Miss Marie narrowed her eyes at Dad. “ You aren’t a good boy. In fact, you’ve been rather stubborn lately.”

Dad growled. “Don’t start, old lady.”

“Your life would get a lot easier if you just listened to me and let the clan vote for the next alpha.”

Marric mentally pumped his fist into the air when Dad crossed his arms over his chest.

“You’ve done your job. Now get out and let Marric sleep.”

Miss Marie huffed as she left the room. “Let the voting happen and your life will instantly get better,” She yelled as she made her way down the hall.

Kinnison sat on the side of the bed. He felt Marric’s head. Something about his dad doing that made Marric feel like a child again. He could forget, for a moment, that he hadn’t spent all night trying to save Emery and himself.

“I wish I could stop it,” Regan whispered.

Kinnison cupped Regan’s cheek next. “What do you wish you could stop, Regan?”

“The curse.”

“What curse?”

“The one in Emery and Marric’s blood.”

Kinnison swore at the same time Marric sucked in a breath. It was Marric who recovered first. He tried to calm his racing heart. “How do you know it’s a curse, Regan?”

“It’s dark. My magic likes the dark.” The subject change was abrupt, but it wasn’t unusual for Regan.

“You’ve never talked about your magic before.” Kinnison tried to lighten his tone, but the accusation was still there.

Regan snuggled closer to Marric, as if wanting his protection. “I don’t want to get punished.”

“We won’t punish you, honey. We promise.” Marric kissed the top of Regan’s head.

“We don’t punish each other in this family, Regan.

You know that.” They reinforced good behavior.

It was practically his dad’s mantra. Marric sometimes thought his dad had to remind himself of that, especially when Emery had been feeling like a normal teenage girl instead of sick and bedridden.

Teenagers sucked, especially for a single dad trying to do his best.

“Look at me, Regan.” Kinnison didn’t pull the blanket away, but Marric could tell he wanted to.

Regan peeked out from under it, uncovering his eyes.

“You’re perfect, just as you are. We’ll always love you.”

“Even if I have the darkness inside me?”

“Even then. And besides, dark magic isn’t bad. It’s just different from other types of magic.”

Regan sniffled, and he buried his face in Marric’s chest.

Marric held him closer. “I’m going to tell you a secret. But you can’t tell anyone.”

“I’m good at keeping secrets.”

“You’re very good at it. Not even Miss Marie suspected you have dark magic.

But it’s good you talked about it. That way, Grandpa can find a good dark magic teacher when the time comes.

” Marric wasn’t sure if they would get to keep Regan.

When they were well again, if they ever got better, they might have to report his whereabouts.

He might have a family out there somewhere. “Are you ready to hear my secret?”

Regan nodded.

“I’m a wolf shifter and a witch. Emery is too.”

Regan met his gaze. He had tears clinging to his lashes, but he frowned. “That’s not a secret.”

Marric didn’t know what to say. His mouth hung open, and he blinked.

Dad chuckled and ruffled Regan’s hair. “You’re a smart boy.”

Regan shook his head. “I’m just a witch.”

“You can sense the magic in us.” That much was obvious, but Marric couldn’t sense magic in others. He wondered if it came naturally for Regan or if someone had taught him how. If it was teachable, Marric wanted to learn.

“Your magic is bigger than Emery’s. But I can see it.” Regan pointed to the center of Marric’s chest. “I like yours.”

Marric wished he could see Regan’s magic like Regan could see Marric’s. Regan was a lot more powerful than Marric. “I like yours too. Maybe one day you’ll tell me more about it.”

“Like the dungeon and stuff?” Regan averted his gaze.

Marric wanted to know more about this dungeon, since it was the first time Regan had mentioned it. Given the way Dad’s eyes had shifted to his wolf and he growled, Regan hadn’t said anything to him either.

Marric hadn’t asked questions because Regan had been uncomfortable talking about it. But maybe it was time for some answers.

“Maybe we can talk about what happened before you came here.”

Regan pulled the blanket over his head.

“Not now. And only if you want to.” But Marric needed to know if his and Emry getting sick had something to do with Regan showing up. What did it mean? And why them and no one else?

There were so many questions. But there was one thing Marric knew. There was no such thing as a coincidence.