Ava Delaney: Tethers Part 25

"A witch drank your blood to give her the strength to perform a powerful spell, Ava!"

"Well, what was I supposed to do? He was dying! I had to at least try to stop that from happening."

"I know," he said softly. "Calm down. You did the best you could at the time. Do you think it helped him?"

"I've no idea." Something struck me. "But, wait-Val said that Phoenix got a blood transfusion from another fae. That would sort of cancel my blood out, right? And, I mean, it was only a little bit. It's not like I gave him much. Just enough to keep him going long enough for the paramedics to get there." That might not have been strictly true. I had been dizzy and exhausted until the following evening.

"Does he know what you did?"

"He opened his eyes, but I don't know if he was really aware. I mean, he might not care."

He gave me a knowing look. "Are we both talking about the same thing?"

Voices at the front door sent us inching apart and trying to look innocent. Peter arrived with a box of books, and Esther had walked him in.

"Anka says dinner is ready," Esther said.

"And here are some books," Peter said. "Breslin had already prepared a box of the ones he said were most likely to help." He dumped the box on the floor. "I'm starving. Let's eat."

"I'm not hungry," I said. "I'm just going to start looking through the new books. You all go on, though."

Peter and Esther left. As Carl prepared to follow, I whispered. "You won't tell anyone, right?"

He looked back and grinned. "About you making out with your friend's daddy? I'll think about it."

I hadn't even considered Lorcan's reaction. I covered my burning cheeks until he left. Carl could be such an a.r.s.ehole sometimes. And he was always too quick to read me. I really hoped that had nothing to do with him drinking my blood that time. I didn't think I could quite cope with Phoenix being that familiar with me.

When they left, I knelt on the floor beside the box and starting sorting the books. I flipped through a couple of pages of one before getting engrossed. It appeared to be a bestiary. It looked handwritten and ancient, but the words were as dark as fresh ink, probably due to magic of some sort. The leather cover didn't even have a t.i.tle, so I started at the index. All kinds of creatures were in there, some I had felt sure had been made up in Hollywood. And it was more like a list of the most vicious creatures that had ever existed in the world. Somebody should really have come up with an international database already. Just typing "hair and claws" into a search field and hoping for the best would have been so much easier than poring over an index.

I leaned back against my coffee table as I read, fascinated by a creature with five hearts that all needed to be pierced before the thing would just die already. I wondered if there had been hunters who did nothing but travel around, trying to figure out the weak spots of dangerous creatures.

I flipped through page after page of terrible creatures, each one uglier and scarier than the last. When I read about a two-headed monster that had a habit of playing dead, only to come back to life, I felt like closing the book, going to bed, and covering my head with my duvet. But I kept going because I needed to know about everything out there to ever have a chance of being one step ahead. One creature was almost an exact physical description of someone I felt sure had recently returned from exile, but I tried not to think about that too closely.

And then I found it. I yelped as the creature's face stared up at me from the page. The artist had done a great job, but without colour, those eerie golden eyes had been difficult to recreate. At the top of the page, in swirling letters, was the word Wendigo.

A wendigo was in Ireland, causing deaths that were being blamed on werewolves. A paragraph on the page had been crossed out. Apparently, people had once thought the wendigo were a slighter cousin of the werewolves, but the truth was worse. Each wendigo had once been human, and n.o.body knew how many existed. The humans had accepted demons into their bodies, but in order to prove they were worthy, they had to become cannibals. They had to eat their own families to prove themselves before the demon would give them their full power. But the wendigo were aimless without a master, and if the demon died, the wendigo remained monsters that ravaged the countryside until death. Their weak spot was a small s.p.a.ce at the base of their spines. Tiny words were written next to the picture: The wendigo are considered one of the darkest, most dangerous creatures in the human realm. Extermination advised.

What the h.e.l.l does that mean? I wondered if Mrs. Yaga had written that and if she had been the one to face a wendigo and figure out its weak spot. A part of me was desperate to go to the Eleven for help, but I would seem weak if I kept running to them.

I read the page again, trying to memorise the information. The front door opened, and I called out excitedly, "Carl? I think I found it! It's called a wendigo, and it's a-"

"A wendigo?" Phoenix asked. "What's that?"

I dropped the book with a fright and gazed up at Phoenix. He towered over me, making me feel small. I crawled backward before getting to my feet.

He looked puzzled, then his expression hardened. "Well?" he barked. "Show me what you found."

I picked up the book and handed it to him before stepping back.

Ignoring me, he sank into my sofa with a wince.

"I thought you were in hospital."

He held up the book. "There's a wendigo running around that needs to be dealt with. Rest can wait until we're safe."

"Do you know anything about it?"

"Nothing," he said as he skimmed over the words. "Have you read this? It's interesting."

"Do you think that happened here? That a demon offered a human his power, I mean. He would have to eat his family. We'd hear about something like that by now, right?"

"Perhaps it was already fully a wendigo when it arrived," he said slowly. "It doesn't really matter. This says it can never be satisfied. There could be other bodies that haven't been found." He looked up at me. "And more cattle we haven't heard about yet. Why is it even here? Surely a far more densely populated country would be a better hunting ground."

"Maybe it was in danger. Somebody wrote that the wendigo should be exterminated. Maybe this one managed to get away from the exterminator."

He tapped his chin. "It says here that they can't exist in packs. They will kill each other. It could have been running from a more powerful wendigo."

"And they don't need to breed because a demon makes them. So is this about the book? Could another demon have come through the book a year ago?"

He flinched. "It's possible, but would it have done this?"

"And where has it been for the last year?" I said glumly.

"There's a theory," he said, "that the reason we haven't noticed much activity from these demons is that they're recovering from the abrupt change."

"Gathering power?" I swallowed a sudden rush of fear. "That's not very comforting."

He shrugged. "It's just a theory. Of course, this creature could have existed for years, roaming from one country to another. It could simply be coincidence that it's here right now."

"So," I said when he continued to read, "how are you feeling?"

"Sore. We need to get back out there and hunt this wendigo down. This creature's hunting ground is not so large right now, and that gives us an advantage."

"What, you, me, and Icarus?"

"And Shay's recruits. We can send each pair out with a werewolf now that we've proved a wendigo is the true culprit. I've already filtered out enough information to the press to rea.s.sure the public that the werewolves are still their saviours."

I smiled. "And if they stop this threat, then n.o.body can argue."

"Least of all a paragon with an agenda," he agreed.

I decided he couldn't remember what had happened and relaxed. "It's so fast, though. Think a lone werewolf will take it down?"

"No, not alone. But if a werewolf can antagonise the wendigo and keep it in battle for long enough, one of the recruits might get a chance to sink a sword into the base of its spine. We're relying on an ancient book, but at the very least, the wendigo will be badly wounded."

"It sounds like you have it all planned out."

He frowned. "Lucia has been with me in the hospital. You didn't visit."

"I didn't want to get in the way." I avoided his eyes. "And, you know, research. I was the only one who could identify the thing."

He cleared his throat. "I think I understand. Ava, there's no need for any tension between us."

He was talking about the kiss.

I forced out a laugh. "Of course not! I'm just stressed about this wendigo. When do you think you'll be able to hunt it again?"

"As soon as you're ready," he said, looking surprised. "That's why I'm here."

"You want me to come with you?"

"Of course."

"I don't think Icarus is fond of me anymore." I hesitated, afraid to say too much.

"Nonsense. His bite wasn't out of aggression. It was a warning. He didn't hurt you, did he?"

I shook my head. "No, but maybe I would be better off teaming up with one of Shay's recruits."

He looked puzzled. "They're already teamed up. You and I going with Icarus is the best solution, but Shay's organising his recruits as we speak in case we come up with something."

"You really get things moving," I joked.

He hesitated. "I heard that your quick actions likely saved my life," he said. "I know I lost a lot of blood. So thank you for not panicking."

"Oh, I definitely panicked. And it was Icarus who helped hold the s.h.i.+rt over your wound while I ran to get the others. It wasn't a big deal. And it was kind of my fault you got hurt in the first place."

When he frowned, I shook my head. "I'm going to run next door and tell the others that it's a wendigo. Feel free to stay here and give Shay a call to update the recruits."

"We'll need to take this book to the Senate to convince them to help me set up this search," he said.

"I'll be right back." I left him, feeling like the biggest liar on the planet. I should have told him. Even if he didn't remember, it was only right for him to have all of the information.

Esther, Val, Peter, and Carl were sitting at Anka's table with Emmett and Dita when I arrived. Anka got up to prepare me a plate of food, but I refused.

"I'm not staying," I said. "I just came to tell you I found the creature. It's a wendigo."

Anka dropped the ladle. "Sorry," she said. "I've heard of those. They're evil, disgusting creatures. I thought they were all hunted down and killed."

"Apparently not," I said wryly. "I have to go with Phoenix to the Senate to convince them to organise a proper search for this thing before it kills anyone else."

"That bad?" Carl asked.

"It used to be human until, well, I'll let Anka tell you about it. I don't know when I'll be back, but you're all off the hook with research."

"Are you okay?" Esther asked.

"Just hoping we don't waste too much time on the Senate," I said. "See you all later."

Drained, I left the room, but Peter followed.

"Hey," he said, stopping me at the front door. "Do you want me to come with you?"

I shook my head. "I'll only be there as a witness. Shouldn't be too bad."

"Those people tried to lock you in a cell. You probably don't want to see them again anytime soon."

"It has to be done." I sighed. "Thanks anyway."

"You going to start looking me in the eye now?"

I stared at my feet and heaved a sigh. Between Peter and Phoenix, I felt as though I were being dragged all over the place.

"Listen," he said, lowering his voice. "I'm sorry if kissing you messed up your head, but I-"

I met his eyes. "I'm just too tired for serious, Peter, and you can't give me casual."

"Try me." But his gaze was already too intense.

"Emmett changes everything we do," I said. "Our history makes everything between us serious. I'm not prepared to jump into that again."

"Well, maybe I'm not interested in waiting around anymore."

"Fine." I held up my hands. "You've just proved my point. We can't even have a casual conversation together."

"Ava"

"I'll see you around." I left him there, feeling uncomfortable. In my late twenties, I should have been capable of figuring out what I wanted, but my emotional growth had been so stunted for so long that I was still mentally in my teenage years. I had one hundred years of servitude ahead of me. Do I really need something else to tie me down?

Back in my house, Phoenix was preparing to leave. "I've found some references in a couple more books, but this one is the most informative. Well done on finding this, Ava."

Phoenix never gave his praise so freely. I gave him a suspicious look, wondering if he would have praised me had I not forced him to feed on my blood.

"The Senate have agreed to meet us to hear how our investigation is going," he said, pulling on his jacket. "I didn't tell them about the wendigo."

"Why?"

He grinned. "I want to see their faces."

I couldn't help smiling back. "Me, too, actually."

"What if the rest of the Senate don't believe you about the wendigo?" I asked as we travelled to the meeting place in his official Senate car.

"I'll just have to make them."

That was good enough for me. If anyone could manipulate the Senate with words, it was one of their own.

"The newspapers have been going on about the lack of a funeral for Mac. Of course, n.o.body cares about Greg," I said. "Even though he was a better man."