Page 16 of Anywhere

My heart pounded, the thumps loud in my ears as the crashing announced that those who hunted me were far too close. I looked over my shoulder and could make out the outlines of at least six figures, maybe more. Ducking low, I ran like a deer, light on my feet as I leapt over logs and weaved around trees. The sound of a braying dog terrified me as I pushed on, desperately looking for the stream in this direction.

Bursting from the trees, I ran across an open field of tall grass and wildflowers. My feet never slowed, and in the wide-open space, the fear of being spotted amplified as I pushed myself harder. Fear snaked up my spine. They’d been lying in wait. They'd known that I or another coven member would be coming to check on the babes, and they’d waited until I was the most vulnerable before attacking. They were sick and cruel, and I could only imagine what would happen if they’d actually maimed me.

I ran up the hill and down the other side, spooking a herd of grazing deer. They were quick, but I was almost as fast and joined in the run, hoping their scent would help mask my own.

Under cover of trees again, I veered towards the stream I’d stopped at many a time to get a drink or enjoy a rest. There wouldn’t be rest today. The water was cold on my feet as I splashed in and continued to bolt along with the flow of water. The slippery rocks made it dangerous, but I needed distance between myself and those hunting me down.

It was dark when I stopped running and stumbled out of the shallow water to drop to my knees and catch my breath. There was no sign that the men continued following me, but I couldn’t take the chance. As soon as my heaving breaths stopped feeling like knives stabbing me in the chest, I pushed myself up and looked for a place to sleep for the night.

There was some thick undergrowth of scraggly bushes with a few large trees. I pushed my way through until I found a tree with a low enough branch I could reach. Leaping into the air, I grabbed the rough bark, and with shaking arms, I pulled myself up, sopping clothes and all. One branch at a time, I climbed up the tall tree until I was hidden among the dark canopy. I was panting hard, arms spent, as sweat trickled down my body, and yet my teeth chattered from the cool night air and the wet clothes that clung to me. Removing my pack, I sat it on the branch in front of me and almost screamed when I opened it up, and the same red squirrel poked its head out, its cheeks fat with food.

“Ya wee buggar,” I said to the pesky little rodent. “What did ya get bored in ya tree all alone? Or did ya just like me cookin’ that much?”

The squirrel hopped out and sat down on the branch, its stomach so full that it looked ready to have a babe. “Ya betta of left somethin’ for me ta eat or we’re gonna be havin’ words.”

Reaching into the bag, I pulled out what was left and found two biscuits and some cheese. Almost all the dried berries were gone. Swearing softly, I reorganized and picked out what I was going to eat as I tried to figure out how to ration what was left. Wrapping up what I wasn’t going to eat, I closed the pouch and put it under my shirt for safe-keeping.

“Ya know, it’s a good thing yer cute,” I said to the squirrel that proceeded to fart, the sound like a tiny rumble against the bark. “Ya wee bodach,” I mumbled.

Pulling out one of the narrow pieces of sinew, I wrapped it around my body and then the thick branch. It wasn’t much, but it would help wake me if I started to fall. I quickly ate the meal, which felt like a feast to my empty stomach and laid my head back on the tree to rest. I couldn’t get my hands warmed up, and the longer I sat still, the harder I shivered. The muscles in my legs were beginning to tighten, and I winced with every little movement. I opened one eye when little nails touched my hand, spotting my little stowaway finishing his climb to curl up in my lap. Once he settled, I laid a piece of the cloak over him and closed my eyes again. He was small, but I could feel the heat from his wee body soaking into me, and that gave me a small piece of comfort.

“Tanks for keepin’ me company,” I said to the squirrel and gave the top of his head a pet with my finger. “I tink I’ll call ya Barry.”

Before my eyes closed to rest, I pulled the necklace I’d made from beneath my shirt and held onto the stone. It glowed softly as Keeva answered back. Smiling, I slipped the necklace back into position and prayed that tomorrow would be better.

Rook

I paced the massive bedroom and felt like I was doing laps on a track. As usual, my father’s secretary put me on hold. It had been a solid twenty minutes so far and counting.

The waiting gave me time to look around the massive bedroom and appreciate the clean, crisp taste of Rhys’s style. The walls were stone like the rest of the castle, but the accents were silver and black with touches of vibrant red. Everything from the frames on the wall, to the desk, to the sitting area matched. Black couch with grey and red pillows. Silver wall scones and silver framed images of modern art that I never would’ve pictured in a place like this. It infuriated me that I liked his taste. I didn’t even know if I liked it because it was something I’d choose or if it was because he liked it. I needed to get away from this fucking magic. I would’ve been better off staying home and taking whatever punishment my father chose to dole out. Coming here was a mistake.

Pulling the phone away from my ear, I checked how much time had elapsed and swore. My father always did this, and I couldn’t decide if it was in hopes that I would get frustrated and hang up or to prove he had all the power.

“Angus speaking,” my father said like he didn’t know who was on the line. I rolled my eyes.

“Dad, it’s me,” I drawled.

“Rook, my son, good to hear from you. I understand that you had some plane issues. The pilot quit his job after he told me what happened. Apparently, he thinks he’s losing his mind, so good job,” my dad said, his voice thick with sarcasm.

“Well, we were plummeting toward the ocean with an out-of-commission engine. I’m not sure what else you wanted me to do. Maybe just crash and die so your problem child would be taken care of.”

“Don’t be stupid. Of course not. Just something a little less dramatic would’ve been nice.”

Bringing a fist up to my mouth, I bit it hard to stop myself from arguing with him. It was pointless. The man could argue it wasn’t raining while you were being pelted in the head by raindrops until you wanted to stab yourself to end the misery.

“I want to come home. You said I had to see if I could do the triad thing. Well, I’m here, Rhys won’t even speak to me, and my third is nowhere to be found. He’s made it clear he doesn’t want anything to do with me, and if I come home tomorrow, I’ll still make my next concert.”

The line was quiet, but I could still hear my father breathing on the other end. There was a tinkling of ice dropping into a glass, and I knew he was getting himself a drink of our signature brandy. I was the one that needed the drink, not him.

“Son, let me see if I can make this as clear as possible because you don’t seem to be understanding what’s happening here.”

This seemed to be a recurring statement from everyone lately. I shook my head annoyed.

“Oh, shit,” I mumbled and plunked myself down in the oversized wingback chair.

The thing was oddly comfortable, and I laid my head back and closed my eyes, waiting for my father to deliver his sermon. The word son at the start of the sentence was a telltale sign.

“First, the plane is already gone, and another won’t land until I say so. Second, this is not a democracy, nor do you have a choice. I’m sorry if that’s what you thought.”