Page 64 of To Keep A Wolf
A moment later, my dad says something about loading the supplies and disappears out the back door before I can ask what supplies and where they’re being loaded. My mother goes back to her coffee and toast, clearly pre-occupied.
I force myself to eat a few bites of the eggs Levi puts in front of me before my stomach turns to lead. He doesn’t push me to eat more and, instead, simply slides the plate over to himself and finishes it off.
“You need to eat, Mac,” my mother says.
I turn to her, ready to argue, especially if it means an outlet for my nerves. But Levi stops me, covering my hand with his. “She did,” he says, his voice clipped.
Before my mother can reply, he shoves back in his chair and takes our empty plates to the sink. To my surprise, my mother lets it go.
When the dishes are cleared and rinsed, we all file outside. None of us has any bags to carry, which is just a nod to the sad state of my life as a fugitive. The idea of staying in one place, even if that place is Blackstone, is appealing enough to make me long for this to all be over. But then I catch myself. Too much has happened for me to think it’ll be that easy. Or simple.
I look at Levi, who’s organizing the inside of the van so we can all ride together. My heart aches to think that, when this is over, we might still have a chance together. But my heart doesn’t dare let hope win out.
I look away—just in time to register the sound of a vehicle. A second later, it rounds the side of the house, and my father drives into view. A Jeep, this one much older and dirtier than the one my mother drives. It has no doors and no roof. The thing looks straight out of a safari—if that safari had taken place thirty years ago.
My father grins from the driver’s seat as he pulls to a stop in front of the van.
“She started right up,” he announces, clearly proud of the fact.
“I can’t believe you kept it,” my mom says, eyeing the Jeep like she’s seeing a long-lost friend.
“Had her parked in the trees, covered with camouflage. For emergencies,” he adds.
My mother wanders closer, running a hand over the hood appreciatively. They share a look. “This thing’s been through it, huh,” she says, a sort of smile playing at the edges of her usually serious mouth.
“Still going too,” he tells her.
She nods as if this is some kind of good omen. Maybe it is. I hope it is.
“What do you say?” my father adds. “One more trip together? Kicking ass, taking names?”
My mom hesitates. It’s clear she’s not excited about being alone with my dad.
I step up, the words tumbling out before I can stop them.
“Actually, I think Mom and I should go together,” I say.
My mom turns to me.
“If someone spots us, they’ll think you found me and are bringing me in,” I tell her. “The van’s less conspicuous. They can follow behind and track us to make sure no one tries to intercept.”
“She’s got a point,” Tripp says, but Levi says nothing.
I know he wants to tell me it’s safer in the van. But I also know he won’t, not after our conversation earlier.
My mom nods. “All right.”
“When we get to Blackstone, we’ll find a place to lie low and call the pack,” Levi says.
“Good,” I tell him. “In the meantime, I think Mom and I should find the witch.” Levi looks like he wants to argue. “If we can remove her from the equation, he can’t do the ritual.”
“You’re the key here, Mac, not the witch,” Levi points out.
“I think Mac has a point,” Tripp says, surprising me by taking my side. “Jadick’s been looking for a witch for a while now. It’s clear his idea rides on her presence. We remove her, and he can’t try this again with someone else.”
“If he’s dead, he can’t try it again at all,” Levi says darkly.
I suppress a sigh. “You’re right,” I tell him. “This is just a back-up. A failsafe. Besides, it keeps us from sitting on our hands while we wait for the pack to show up.”
