Page 2 of Samhain Savior
“Keepussafe, you mean?” I questioned, but Heidi just shook her head.
“Not this time, child.”
“Mother Heidi—” I protested, but she raised one finger, haltingmy words.
“I’m old, Delilah. I’ve done all the running I can. Now it’s my turn to stand and fight.”
“No!” I shook my head frantically, a lump forming in my throat. “I can’t go without you!”
“You can. It’s what we’ve been working toward since you came to me as a babe.”
“But I’m not—I’m not ready!” I protested, a slight panic rising in my chest. “Heidi, you know I can’t—”
I didn’t say the words, but she knew, and the gentle pity on her face told me she understood.
I couldn’t access my magic.
Not in any way that truly mattered.
Sure, I could light a candle—maybe—if I concentrated hard enough, or sense when another witch was nearby, but the powerful spells Heidi wielded so effortlessly? The ones that could save lives or end them? They remained as elusive as smoke, slipping through my fingers every time I reached for them.
“Not yet,” she whispered, her face soft with understanding. “But you will. I know you will.”
Reaching out, she clasped my cheeks in her hands, and for the first time, I realized what she said was true. Heidiwasold, older than anyone should be when they were constantly on the run. For more than twenty years, Heidi and I had been moving across the country, stopping only longenough to catch our breath before they caught up with us again and we were forced to flee into the night.
Pressing my hand over hers, I turned my head and pressed a kiss to her palm, trying to express without words all the things I was feeling in the moment.
“I know, Delilah. I love you, too.”
Behind us, a sound shattered the quiet night, like glass breaking, and Heidi turned, grim-faced, as she shuffled me behind her, placing her body between me and whatever was coming.
“Go, Delilah,” she hissed over her shoulder, but I shook my head. “You can’t fight them, not like I can.”
“No!” I pleaded once more. I might not have had access to the same strong magic that she did, but that didn’t mean I was helpless. “I’m not leaving you!”
“You are,” she insisted, chancing a look back at me. “You are leaving because you are important. More important than a hundred old hags like me. Now go. Find the priest and do what he says. The Brotherhood will protect you. I’ll hold them off as long as I can.”
I could hear them now, their footsteps trudging down the street, dark, menacing laughter rolling on the night wind.
“Give us the child!”
The voice that called out was honey-sweet and utterly terrifying—the kind of voice that belonged in children's nightmares. “Hand her over, Heidi. We know she's here. We can smell her fear."
I shivered as the words reached me, the pure hatred in them feeling like a whip across my skin. She was right; I was afraid. Because these witches were stalking down the street in the middle of the night for a reason.
They were coming for me.
I knew Heidi wanted me to run; it was what we’d always done, but this time, I didn’t agree with her. I wanted to stay. To stand and fight the way she was going to. The way I knew I was supposed to be able to fight, if my magic would ever just cooperate.
But under that bravado was a hollow pit of fear. As though something inside me was missing, a hole carved out where the strength I would need to win this battle belonged, but no matter how I tried to find it, it simply wasn’t there now.
For years, I’d tried to fill that hole. To bridge the gap between my knowledge of magic and its execution. But no matter how hard I’d trained, how many hours I’d spent memorizing spells and studying ancient grimoires, I’d never been able to reach deep inside me to find the well of magic that Heidi assured me was there.
I’d only ever found the hole.
It was that feeling, that shaking emptiness, that kept me from running toward the cackling horde of witches headed our way.
Even if it made me a coward.
