He repeated the process with the head.
Then, the baton disappeared too.
Having finished his mission, the warrior stood up, ready to leave, when another figure appeared in front of him.
“Ryder,” the warrior said, calling the man by name. Like him, Ryder was a warrior. He too sported the same black leather armor and carried the same magical blade on his back.
“Devon,” Ryder said. “I’m here to deliver a message.”
The warrior straightened his back. “What message?”
“The gods are calling you,” Ryder said. “They have a mission for you.”
Devon lingered in the shadows of the trees, watching as the young woman knelt by the edge of the lake, pulling her skirt above her ankles so as not to get the hem wet, and washed her hands. She glanced at the water, the rays of the sunset igniting her fair face, and she smiled as if greeting a friend.
Something in the warrior’s chest tightened.
She couldn’t be older than eighteen. And she was the one the gods had told him about? She was supposed to be evil? With her brilliant smile? Her pretty face? Her delicate hands?
A little squeal and the sound of rapid footsteps came from his right, and the warrior reached for the sword strapped to his back. Two kids burst past the tree line, stumbling toward the girl—her siblings.
Still smiling, the young woman stood. “Selina, Calvin. What are you two up to?”
“He pulled my hair!” the girl spat. She was a miniature version of the woman with brilliant golden hair and bright blue eyes.
The boy, probably younger than both, shook his head, loosening his ponytail. “No, I didn’t.”
The woman laughed. “Of course you didn’t. And what did she do to earn her fate?”
“She kicked me in the shin!”
The warrior frowned. Had the boy confessed he had pulled the girl’s hair?
The woman put her hands on her hips and stared at the girl. “Why did you kick him?”
“Because he was being a pest,” the little girl said simply.
The young woman rolled her eyes. “And here I thought you two were playing.”
“We were,” the little boy said.
“Until he started bothering me,” the girl said.
The young woman shook her head. The long, heavy golden braid falling down to her waist barely moved. “You two should try to get along for more than five minutes.”
She retreated to a lone cherry tree a few feet away from the lake and sat down on the wooden bench underneath it. With a sigh, she leaned back against the tree trunk. The soft pink of the tree’s flowers and the rays of the setting sun gave a soft rose-gold hue to her cheeks.
The girl took a seat on the bench. “I try! He’s the one who always bothers me.”
The little boy trotted to them. “Am not!”
The young woman laughed, the sound echoing through the air like little bells.
In the distance, movement caught Devon’s attention. An older woman appeared from the open door of the stone manor atop a small hill. “Kianna, Selina, Calvin! Supper is ready!” she shouted.
“We’re coming,” the young woman answered as the kids took off toward the house. Another smile adorned her pink lips as she stood and watched her siblings running up the hill.
With a sigh, she bent at the waist and picked up the heavy basket filled with clothes. She propped it on her hip and took a step toward the house. Then, she stopped as if she had remembered something. With a crease between her brows, the Kianna rose on her tiptoes and snatched a flower from the cherry tree. She slid it behind her ear, as if it was a common gesture, then she glanced out to the lake once more as if sharing a secret or wishing for a miracle.
Despite fighting his growing curiosity, Devon wondered what she saw when she watched the lake.
A moment later, Kianna turned and trotted up the hill as if she didn’t care about the lake at all.
Present
Kenna
“Here we are,” Lia announced as she brought the car into the driveway.
It was dark out and the few lamps along the street didn’t illuminate much, but I could see the shape of the narrow two-story house in front of us.
“This is ours?” I asked, skeptical.
Lia shrugged. “Well, we’re renting as of this afternoon, so yeah, it’s ours.” She reached for her purse on the backseat. “Home, sweet home. Come on.”
With a skip to her step, Lia exited the car and rushed to the front porch.
I didn’t move a muscle.
By the time we got settled in the house, we would have to move again. For the last two years, Cecilia—Lia—had insisted we stay at roadside motels and crappy apartments.
“It’s time we stop and make a life for ourselves, Makenna,” she had said before the last move.
I thought Lia had been joking. Dreaming out loud, as she usually did. We both did. Who didn’t want to stop moving and settle down and live in peace?
But there was no peace for us. There never would be. Not while Slater lived.
Despite my protests, Lia had arranged—behind my back—everything. Since the last time they found us at the motel three months ago, we had zigzagged across the country, only stopping when necessary.
And we hadn’t been caught once.
That gave Lia the confidence to move forward with the second part of her plan: securing fake documents and settling down in a nice, quiet town in the middle of nowhere.
With a grunt, I grabbed my backpack at my feet and followed the older woman into the house. Lia had turned on the lights and was now walking from room to room.
She peeked her head from what looked like a kitchen in the back and smiled at me. “I know it’s small, but it looks great.” She disappeared again.
I glanced around. What was so great about scratched floors, peeling paint, spiderwebs, and dust? I took two steps into the foyer and placed my hand on the wooden rail of the stairs leading to the second floor. Loose, as I thought. To the right was a living room with a small fireplace. Red bricks, chipped and worn with age, climbed the wall. To the left, a glass chandelier hung precariously from the ceiling. I sighed. The house looked old. It was falling apart.
Just like us.
“How long are we staying here?” I asked, raising my voice so I could be heard from anywhere in the house.
Lia appeared from the other door in the dining room. “I signed the lease for two years, but hopefully more.”
I frowned, sure I hadn’t heard her right. “Wait. What?”
“Why so surprised? We’ve been talking about finding a place for us for a long time.”
For more than seven years, but who was counting? “We can’t stay here. Not for more than a week, maybe a month, and that might be too long.”
Lia reached for my hands. “It's been months, Kenna.” Since we started moving aimlessly, we had changed our names. I wasn’t Makenna anymore. For the last three months, I had been only Kenna. “He won’t find us here.”
I pulled my hands from hers and took a step back. “He’ll never stop looking. Even if it takes him ten years, twenty! He’ll find us.”
She shook her head. “We can’t run forever. You’re young. Hell, I’m young too. We deserve to live our lives.”