Feudlings (34 page)

“Are you going to leave the wards up, Will?” Hunter asked, his eyes straying to where he knew the invisible walls still stood, protecting them.

“Yes. While Richard and the Council members are still out there, this war isn’t truly over. Not for Ari. Not for Shane. Not for you and your family. And as long as you are all still in danger, the wards will do what they can to protect you.”

Shane squinted down the road, to the house he knew belonged to Dani and her family. “Yes. They’re staying,” Will said with a crooked grin, hefting the box a little higher as he turned to go inside.

Hunter’s hand shot out and grasped his arm. “Will?”

Will turned questioning eyes on him, dark brown eyes so like Ari’s.

“Tell her you love her. Before you don’t get the chance.” Hunter’s voice cracked.

Will held his gaze for a long, long time, and finally nodded. “I will, Hunter. And Hunter,” he said as Hunter started into the house to grab another box, “You’ll get your chance. Charity isn’t gone. Not with you and Ari and Shane still here. There’s not a force on earth that could keep her from the three of you.”

Hunter took a deep breath, his eyes turning up to squint at the sun. “No, nothing will keep her from us.” His voice shook, just a bit, but he nodded when he again turned to look at Will. “We’ll bring her home.”

****

Ari lay sound asleep against Shane’s chest. She’d been sleeping almost since they all tumbled, half-alive, through the portal two days earlier. He knew it had been too much to ask her to fight in that battle after nearly dying… twice. His tough Ari was weak now, and shook and fought tears whenever she was awake. So he healed her as well as she would let him and Will slipped her something to help her sleep. Once she realized what they were doing, she objected, but Will had told her that she was no good to Charity if she couldn’t even stand up straight. “Get better, Ari. Then we’ll go after Charity.”

Will, Shane, and Hunter had spent every spare second, when they hadn’t been helping others put their lives back together, poring over maps and calling in favors. Will was tracking credit cards and cell phones. So far, they had nothing to go on.

So Shane didn’t sleep, and he didn’t let Will slip him anything to help him sleep. He stared at the wall while he stroked Ari’s black and red curls, listening to her somewhat ragged breathing and willing Charity to send him a sign, a vision,
something
. Ari and Will could do it. Why couldn’t he and Charity?

Ari stirred against him, murmuring, calling for Charity. He kissed the top of her head, whispering, “We’ll find her Ari. We’ll bring her home.”

Spells

Masas — spell that can hit multiple targets at once. Not incredibly powerful

Lirik — kill spell, one of three

Rikil — kill spell, one of three

Filik — kill spell, one of three

Ginsti - painful stinging spell, much like a burn, curlicue

Sabate — spell that creates a small explosion

Alable — spell that shoot flames

Nacinin — spell that turns into a fiery canine

Nidib — spell that takes two casters, works together to catch and entrap

Saldepement — opens a portal. Takes two casters

About the Author:

Wendy Knight
was born and raised in Utah by a wonderful family who spoiled her rotten because she was the baby. Now she spends her time driving her husband crazy with her many eccentricities (no water after five, terror when faced with a live phone call, etcetera, etcetera). She also enjoys chasing her three adorable kids, playing tennis, watching football, reading, and hiking. Camping is also big: her family is slowly working toward a goal of seeing all the National Parks in the U.S.

You can usually find her with at least one Pepsi nearby, wearing ridiculously high heels for whatever the occasion may be. And if everything works out just right, she will also be writing.

Also from Astraea Press:

Prologue

Osier Schmidt stood inside of a graveyard, his hand perched on his belly. There was a flask of liquor in his fat, clenched fist, and he gazed at a gravestone in front of him. It belonged to Eden Schmidt, his daughter. He gritted his teeth and then pivoted to peer at the headstone next to that. It belonged to Rebecca Schmidt, his wife.

He took another chug of his drink. It dulled the edges of his mind, causing everything to be a blur. The world became softer in this haze, and he preferred it that way. It wasn't like he had a job, or anything else, to be presentable for.
Alone. All alone.
He peered at the tombstones again. Chances were good it was entirely his fault his daughter had died.

The sound of voices in the distance caused him to turn around and look up at the rolling hills covered with gravestones. A massive crowd was forming at the top of the hill. Curiosity sparked inside of him as well as the feeling of intense loneliness. He peered down at himself and knew he was not presentable for such a gathering. Osier wore a white T-shirt stained with beer and a pair of loose shorts. Sweat ran down his back.

I'll just have a look.
He sighed and headed up the hill. Halfway up, his breathing became strained. He could hardly breathe.

At the top of the hill, he spotted a beautiful brunette woman wearing all black clutching her face. Tears streamed down her cheek. He guessed she was a widow or a parent. At her side was a cold-eyed man. Osier made his way through the large crowd and stared down at a dark brown casket. There was a picture of the deceased person on a piece of board by the grave. To him, it appeared cruel to have a picture of such a young, beautiful girl displayed so prominently when everybody knew hers was a face they would never see again. But what did he know? At one time he’d thought he knew everything, but now he was well aware he didn't know anything at all. As he clenched his fists and continued to look at the picture, he sighed.

A collective gasp from the people who had gathered interrupted his thoughts. He spun around, frowning. Even the beautiful brunette woman had stopped weeping. A flash of white erupted from beyond the crowd.

What's going on?
He leaned forward, curious.

A girl stepped forward, through the throng. His breath caught in his throat as he saw who stood before him, shrouded in white, with long golden hair trickling down her back.

It was Eden, the daughter he had lost twenty years ago.

Chapter One

Twenty years earlier…

Sixteen-year-old Eden stared wide-eyed at their new house. It was beautiful, though a little run-down. It was painted ivy green, the roof was black, and there was a surfboard planted in the yellowing grass. She touched a part of the fence that surrounded the house and gasped when it toppled with a loud bang.

Shoot. Mom was going to kill her. She twisted around to check and see if her mom, Rebecca, had noticed what she'd done, but she hadn't. Rebecca was struggling out of the rental truck with her fat pink purse in hand, landing on her feet with a thump before wobbling dangerously on her high heels. She walked forward, stopped on the sidewalk, and peered at the house with her hand shading her eyes.

"Goodness. It's not much, is it?"

Eden shrugged. "I don't know. I think it has its charms."

Her mother shrugged and headed back to the moving van. When she reached the back door, she stared at the handle as if it were her enemy.

"Eden, would you mind opening the door for me? I just got my nails done. I don't want to chip them."

Eden shrugged and walked forward, seized the bottom of the door, and heaved it upward with a grunt. The physical effort it took to open the door made her pant. She only weighed a hundred pounds and was shocked the door hadn't taken her with it.

"Thanks," Rebecca said, grabbing the side of the van and pulling herself inside. "I wish your father had paid for an actual moving company instead of making me do all of this myself. You know how I hate to do physical labor."

Oh, boy,
Eden thought.
Here we go again.
Eden knew her mom was baiting her so she could go on a tangent about Dad. She had been the victim of that ploy enough, she knew not to fall for it again.

Eden entered the van, selected one of the boxes, and grabbed it with a grunt. Rebecca held a single tiny box in her arms, but she huffed as if it weighed ten thousand pounds.

"Don't you think this would be easier if your father was here?" her mom asked, once again wiggling the hook in front of Eden.

"I suppose," Eden said, "but he had to work. It can't be helped. He's the one who got us the house to begin with, right? It's not like we can complain."

Rebecca sighed. Eden stole a worried look at her before jumping off the end of the van and then walking toward the house. She approached the front screen door and stared at the cobwebs on it. Cleaning the house inside was going to be a chore.

She shrugged, reached for the door, and twisted the knob. When she stepped inside, she gasped. Even on the inside, the house was run-down, but like the outside, it had charm. The walls were pained tan, the floors were tiled with golden slabs, and pictures still hung on the wall from the previous owner. She stopped to peer at one and felt the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. The picture was of a dark-haired boy with bright blue eyes.

At the slamming sound coming from the end of the hallway, she jumped and dropped her box of antiques on the floor.

"Hello?" Eden asked, fear clenching her stomach as she stepped forward.
Rats, maybe?

She entered the next room and discovered the dining room, which connected to a large kitchen. But there was a major problem. There wasn't anything there, not even a rat.

****

Eden lay down on her bed and stared at the ceiling. Downstairs, she could hear the sounds of yelling and banging. She rolled onto her side and debated covering her ears. Yet if she did that, she wouldn’t know if someone got injured. When her parents fought, there was always a possibility of cuts or broken bones. Her dad had once had his cheekbone smashed in because Rebecca had hurled a hairdryer at his head.

"You were sleeping with the neighbor, weren't you?" her dad asked, his voice somehow still reaching her even though she was all the way upstairs.

"How dare you!" her mom screamed.

There was the sound of something splintering. Rebecca had probably thrown a plate.

"I don't need to take this," her dad yelled. "I work twelve hour shifts so that you can have your expensive outfits and your makeup. For what? To be treated like this?"

"If it wasn't for you, then I wouldn't be stuck in this place at all. Lizzy said marrying you would be a mistake." There was more thudding and then more shattering. "It's entirely your fault. The past sixteen years of my life have been a mess because of you."

"Judging by how Lizzy ended up, I wouldn't recommend following her choices. Where is she? Cold in the ground because of her own mistakes."

"Shut up. Just shut up." There were foot stomps upon the floor. "One more word. One more. I'll do something drastic. I swear I will."

"Then why don't you just leave, like you always do?"

"Maybe I will."

Something heavier was thrown this time. Eden could tell because there was a bang and then a dull thud. Eden had heard this sound enough times to know what it meant. Her dad bellowed a nonsense word downstairs.

There was the sound of pounding feet on the stairs and then trudging in the hallway. Rebecca opened her door without knocking and barged inside. Her mom's face was covered in a sheen of sweat, her makeup was smeared, and her curly red hair created a frizzy halo around her head. Eden straightened up, spun around, and seized her backpack. It had already been packed with clothes.

"Get ready," Rebecca said. "We're leaving."

"I know." Would clothes for two nights be enough this time? She hoped so. She hated it when they were gone longer than that. "I'm ready. Where are we going this time?"

Rebecca rolled her eyes, seized Eden’s hand, and began to drag her down the hall. "You are so much like your father during times like this."

Eden knew her mom didn't mean it as a compliment.

Rebecca thundered down the stairs with Eden following behind, and the two of them went into the kitchen where her dad stood on top of heaps of broken glass and the remainders of a blender. When he saw them come in, he nodded his head at her and sent Rebecca a cold smirk.

"See you tomorrow, Rebecca," her dad said. "I won't be back from work until ten o'clock, so don't wait up."

"Bite me," Rebecca said acidly.

She frowned, went out into the garage, climbed into their white car and started the ignition. Eden climbed into the seat next to her and drew her knees up to her chin.

Astraea Press

Pure. Fiction.

www.astraeapress.com