Page 75 of Shifting Years
Chapter Twenty-Six
Mike
Todd had the sense not to aim his rifle at two women who, with no more effort than lifting a teacup, held an armored worm—definitely not a snake—suspended in the air. Henry thrashed his tail, trying to escape. Green bile sprayed from his mouth but evaporated as soon as it neared the two women.
"Are you here to change him back?" I asked.
"If only the will were present," said Tina.
The shorter lady turned to me. "You wish to find your daughter. We can provide a child that would be yours, but it will not beher."
"I don't understand." In my confusion, I faced Todd, and his shrug said he was just as lost.
"Altering reality," said Tina, "is a creation based on perception." Her voice iced over. "You both ask for the wrong things. Words contain power."
"Beings have will," Dawn said gently, but there was weight behind her words. "Men, how many times did you spit his name like a curse? How often did you call him a worm with hatred burning in your heart? Over and over again."
"The universe listens," said Tina.
I thought I learned my lesson, but the women felt different. "Why are you here, ladies?" Thoughts of punishment came, and I hoped I was wrong.
You are.The thought wasn't my own.
"Three choices," Dawn said, and the air around us seemed to hum with something unseen. "Each will require great magic and none will be without cost." She turned up to an armored thing of my creation, still thrashing as if trying to explode out of his body. "We can turn it back. He will then leave Whispering Hills in fear and find another Omega."
"To hurt like he did me," I said.
"You asked questions when you know the answer," said Tina.
"If he stays like this, do more people die?" I asked.
"Another despair field will keep humans away," she continued. "Paranormals know the danger and can gamble with death."
"The animals already know," said Todd, gesturing around us.
"Creatures," said Tina, "know their place in the world. Shifters and humans often need painful lessons to learn theirs." She waved her slender hand and a shimmering portal appeared. The sun within rose, set, and repeated quickly. Decades passed while the cabins slowly decayed into black, wet wood. "No innocents will die."
"No deaths?" I asked.
"Noinnocents," said Dawn.
Keeping a man as an armored worm was monstrous, but weighed against the life of a child or future Omega? The scales tipped easily.
Dawn spoke softly. "You could have your Alpha's memories back."
"Not an option. The kid," said Todd and turned to me. "End of story."
"Then all our will goes toward making sure your child is safe," said Tina.
"You mean getting her back," I said. "Getting her back safe with us, right?"
We didn't move, but the campground with Henry and its death stink left. Now two bayou witches and a shifter pair stood in a small town on a sidewalk as cars slowly drove by under a mid-day sun. This was earlier than before unless we were in an earlier time zone.
Men and women strolled along the sidewalk and casually walked around us as if not seeing us but sensing something to avoid.
"Come," said Tina, "Time grows short to save your daughter." My feet were as heavy as lead, every step heavier than the last.
Todd rested a reassuring hand on my shoulder, and I leaned into it, fighting tears. Words have power, and witches choose their speech with reason. Something seemed off.
