Not wanting to lead the wolf to Coco and my necklace, I decided I was safer at home and turned a corner. Once out of sight of the wolf, I started jogging. I made it back to the Presidio in no time, but then the path changed. Almost between one step and the next, the bright, sunny day dimmed. Huge trees crowded out the light, leaving me in an unnatural gloom. Turning around, looking for the Presidio I’d just been walking through, I found nothing but towering, ivy-covered trunks and vine-laden underbrush blocking my way. It was as though I had taken a wrong turn into Middle-earth.
Chittering and movement in nearby bushes had me moving again, quickening my pace. Yellow eyes glowed, little pinpricks of light in the dark branches. I ran, trying to outpace my surroundings. Was this like the Kraken?
Fearsome, not fearful. I had to find a way out.
A vine coiled around my ankle, yanking my foot out from under me and sending me crashing to the forest floor. Damp, fecund earth covered in branches and leaves made for a softer than expected landing. A vine twitched under my cheek. I reared back and then movement had me kicking at another as it slithered toward me. The sharp-thorned vine around my left ankle tightened. Fingers slick with blood, I yanked at it again and again, but it wouldn’t release its hold.
Noses twitching, elongated teeth glinting in the low light, rats began to emerge from behind branches and leaves. There had to be dozens of them. The scent of my blood was bringing them out, making them swarm. This isn’t real. This isn’t real.
Wrenching desperately at the vine holding me, I brought my ankle to my mouth and bit down, tearing at it. Viscous liquid oozed between my lips, but I couldn’t stop. Dozens of rats had turned into a hundred or more.
They circled, their chittering an unbearable squeal in my brain. One dropped from the trees above onto my head. In a mindless panic, I whipped my head around, trying to dislodge it but it clung, nails scrabbling, tearing at my scalp.
Grunting, I tore viciously at the razor-sharp vine, finally breaking through. I jumped to my feet, trying to locate the path that had just been there. The rats, sensing their prey was escaping, moved in. They ran up my jeans. Sharp teeth bit through the fleshy part of my hand, between and thumb and forefinger. I shook my hand, trying to fling it off, but it gnashed its teeth and wouldn’t let go. More dropped from the branches overhead, clawing my face, neck, shoulders.
Batting them off, unable to stifle the scream that tore at my throat, I ran blindly through the trees, bouncing off trunks, tripping on roots. The rats clung, nails and teeth ripping at my skin. I was lost and being eaten alive. This isn’t real. This isn’t real. The pain and terror dissipated momentarily and then a vine slithered around my neck like a noose and squeezed.
I forced myself to close my eyes and calm my breathing. Rats tore at me, but I focused all my attention on the vine cutting off my air. You’re not real. Doing my best to ignore the rat gnawing on my ear, I thought again, none of this is real. The vine sputtered out of existence. A moment later, though, it was back and squeezing so tight, I thought my head would pop off. I couldn’t explain why, but the vine felt angry.
“Sam!”
Strong hands held my shoulders and shook. Chest pounding, I tasted blood in my mouth again. I opened my eyes and found myself staring straight into hazel green. Cringing, trying to shake off the phantom rats, I wrapped my arms around myself. I could still feel their sharp little nails crawling all over my body, but I was okay. I was out. Coco had been the one to pull me out this time. I breathed in her scent. Smoke and safety.
“Are you with me now?” Her voice was quiet and unsure.
Nodding, I touched my throat. “I was trying to get myself out, but it wasn’t working.” I coughed and looked down. The bottles and brownie bag I’d been holding were on the grass by my feet. I handed Coco the brownies and unscrewed the water bottle, drinking it down in one.
“It was the strangest thing, almost like the vision was pissed off I was even trying. Instead of freaking me out, it was trying to kill me. If you hadn’t pulled me out…” I faltered. The memory was too strong.
Watching a man sunbathing and two girls playing frisbee, I took slow deep breaths. This was reality, not the squealing, biting vision I’d been in. Coco and I stood under a tree, shaded from the mild San Francisco sun. On a nearby path, joggers rounded a corner, coming into view as bicyclists peddled the opposite way. It was a gorgeous day in the Presidio, but I couldn’t shake the feeling of phantom rats crawling up my legs.
“How did you end up out here? You were in my workroom with me.” She laid a hand on my arm, offering comfort.
Heartbeat erratic, I let her hand stay there. “I only stepped out for a minute. I was falling asleep and then…” I’d always had a horrible fear of rats. I’d had nightmares for years as a child after watching Lady and the Tramp. Those red-eyed rats slinking through the nursery, climbing the crib, and trying to eat the baby. They scared me to death. I guess that was the point, wasn’t it? Scaring me to death.
“I’m okay now,” I mumbled.
“No. You’re really not.” She wrapped her hand around my shoulder, seeming to understand I couldn’t handle more touch than that at the moment.
“How did you find me?” Shivering, I tried to relax into the heat and calm of her presence, trusting she’d keep me safe. At least for a little while.
“I heard you screaming in my head.”
A dog barked, making me flinch. Coco moved closer to me as a fluffy, white mop ran by, on the heels of his boy.
“It’s never happened before, but I think I was dialed into you as I cleaned and strengthened the spells on the pendant. I heard you scream and tore out of the shop.” An owl hooted nearby. “And found you here, standing stock still. Eyes open and mouth closed. I could hear the screaming in my head, but I couldn’t wake you. Your heart was beating so fast, I thought it would explode.”
She looked around, sniffing at the wind. “Wolf.”
“What?”
Shaking her head, she continued. “I called everyone I could think of and finally ended up on the line with Clive. He told me what to do, but we didn’t know if it would work with my blood.”
“Clive?” I looked up at the midday sun.
A buzzing sounded. Coco patted my shoulder and answered her phone. “She’s okay. It worked…Yeah, sure.” She put the phone to my ear.
“It happened again?” Anger threaded through Clive’s voice.
“It would seem so,” I said.
Coco gave us the impression of privacy by turning toward the small boy and his dog, watching them play.
“What was it this time?” Concern made its way through the anger.
“Rats.”
Coco made a comforting sound in the back of her throat, still looking away from me.
“They were everywhere. Eating me alive.” Fighting off a full-body cringe, I continued. “I was out in the open. Anyone could have walked up and killed me while I was trapped in the vision.” I stared down at my feet a moment, considering. “Why didn’t they?”
“Interesting question.”
Coco turned back to me and took my hand, lifting it so I could see the slice on the fleshy part between my thumb and forefinger, right where that rat in the vision had bitten me.
“Damn.” It was like when I yelled ‘Open!’ in the Kraken vision and actually opened my wards. The rat bit me in a vision and my hand was bloodied in real life.
“What is it, Sam?”
“Her hand was cut,” Coco said when I remained silent. “Small. Almost like she was sliced while shaking a hand.” She looked thoughtful for a moment. “Is there anything special about her blood? Someone went to an awful lot of trouble for a small cut.”
“Excellent question. Do they want her dead or do they want her blood?”
“Well, neither sounds great to me.” I’d had no control. I’d been standing here unable to defend myself. A shiver ran through me. Coco and Clive talked about me as though I were an interesting puzzle. I couldn’t be that objective.
“Have you completed the repairs?” Clive asked.
“Not yet. I was interrupted,” Coco said. Supernatural hearing meant neither was hindered by the fact that the phone was at my ear.
“I’m sorry. Do you have to start all over again?” I wasn’t leaving her side, not until the necklace was back around my neck.
“Unfortunately. It’s exhausting. I’ll add it to your bill.” Coco winked and then eased the phone out of my hand. “We’re heading back now,” she said to Clive.
“Good.” Click. I guess Clive wasn’t big on goodbyes. And how was he awake at this hour?
We were a few blocks away when I finally asked the question that had been flitting in and out of my brain. “You said ‘wolf’ earlier. Did you mean me, or did you smell a different wolf?”
“Different. Male. The scent was faint. He’d been in that location earlier, but I couldn’t tell if it had been ten minutes or two hours.” We’d made it back to the city streets, leaving the park behind.
I held up my left arm, the one that wolf had touched. “Was this the scent?”
Coco leaned down and sniffed my sleeve. She stopped walking, pausing to think. “Yes. That’s the scent. But now I don’t know if I was smelling your sleeve and assuming a wolf had been nearby or if he really had been standing next to you while you were trapped in that vision.”
We were two blocks away when Coco’s head shot up. She took off at a run, racing down the sidewalk and through the door of her shop. Following in her wake, I stepped in a moment later and my stomach dropped. It had been ransacked while she was out. Swearing, she jumped the counter and went straight to the workroom. Two of the cases had been smashed, jewelry scattered, valuable pieces no doubt stolen. Broken glass glittered on the worn carpet.
This was my fault. “I’m sorry. I’ll pay for the missing jewelry.” Somehow. I sank into a high-backed chair in the corner of the shop. I’d be paying off the bar for the next hundred years, assuming I lived that long. What was a little more debt?
Coco walked out of the backroom, her dark skin unnaturally pale. “The necklace is gone.”
I stood, my breath caught in my chest. “Gone?”
“Destroyed. The glass breaking out here was probably just for show. The necklace was the goal. Every stone has been smashed to powder, settings broken, chain torn apart. Trust me. This,” she gestured at the display cases. “was window dressing. What they wanted was to strip away a defense.”
Legs giving out, I dropped back into the chair. “It was the only thing I had of my mom.”
“I’m so sorry.” She paused a moment. “The only thing?” Coco crouched in front of me, a hand on my knee.
Dazed, I couldn’t think straight. “It burned down. Our home. After she died and I was—I tried to go home, but the apartment building was a scorched ruin.” Looking up, I found Coco’s sympathetic gaze. “It must have happened during the funeral. I tried to get out of the car, talk to the firemen, but Uncle Marcus pulled me back and turned the car around. Drove us away.” The glass dust glinted in the sunlight slanting through the window.
“I had nothing when I was sent here after the attack. Nothing but the clothes on my back and the pendant around my neck. Marcus sent me to live with Helena, a wicche friend of my mom’s.” Clutching Coco’s hand on my knee, I asked what I needed to know. “Was my mom a wicche?”
“I didn’t know her, but the magic shares harmonies with you.” She shook her head. “I’m not sure how to explain it. I can see magic, but mostly I hear it. The spells in the necklace sound feminine. When you told me your mother had given it to you, I thought, of course. You share the same magical harmonies. A great deal of love and fear went into making that pendant. Your mother was worried about protecting you.” She looked down at the carpet a moment, lost in thought. “How did she die?”
“She…” I paused, trying to remember. I forced the memory to surface but got nothing. “I don’t remember.” How could I not remember?
“Were you very young? Was it right after she gave you the necklace?”
“No. I was seventeen. I came home from school and there were women in the apartment, cleaning and talking in hushed tones. They said my mother was dead, but they wouldn’t let me see her. I remember tearing through the tiny apartment, calling her name. It was empty except for the women. They said they were relatives, but I’d never seen any of them before.”
Tears slipped down my face. “There was a funeral. I remember that. And a storm. My Uncle approached me as the cemetery cleared. I was standing in front of Mom’s grave. The women were gone. Everyone was gone except for Marcus. He introduced himself and invited me to live with him.
“My mother had always told me to stay away from dad’s side of the family, but I was so scared and alone. So lost. I followed him out of the cemetery.” I found Coco’s eyes again. “I used to remember more. It feels like it’s right there, behind a curtain I need to open but can’t reach.”
Touching my forehead, she said, “The memory might have been stolen or buried so deep it amounts to the same thing. If they’re hiding her death, though, it must be important.” She stood, hands at her waist, staring out the window. “Have you ever tried hypnosis?”
“No. I’ve never done any kind of therapy.”
Her gaze snapped back to me. “Not even after the attack?”
“How did you—does everyone know what he—what happened to me?” Long-buried fears and humiliations came racing back. I tasted bile in the back of my throat. Had I spent seven years hiding scars they all saw?
Coco dropped back down into a crouch. “I meant a turning, especially against one’s wishes, can be traumatic.”
I chuffed a short, derisive laugh. “Yeah, that’s one way of putting it.”