He had done it because fighting the Cursed Ones was the right thing to do.
Skye had run to the academy to escape Estefan. Only fourteen, she hadn’t wanted to tell her family that she had an evil stalker. With sudden clarity Skye realized that she hadn’t told her parents about Estefan not because she believed they couldn’t help her, but because deep down she had believed that they wouldn’t . They would have just hidden her away from him. They never would have trained her how to stand on her own and defend herself.
And staring at their faces now, she knew she had been right to go. In a flash, the guilt she had felt for leaving her family for Salamanca vanished. She had done what she had to do in order to save her life. There was no shame in that.
“I’m injured,” she said slowly. “I would appreciate some food and water.”
There was a moment of silence that seemed to last an eternity.
“So, you didn’t come because of us?” Melody asked. “You came because you’re hungry ? I’m sorry,” she added quickly. “That was unkind.”
“No, I’m sorry,” Skye said. They used to be so close. Lying about Estefan, then running away, had changed all that.
Skye looked at her mother. “I can’t, not just yet.”
“If not now, then when?” her mother asked quietly. There was a challenge in her voice. Skye was the prodigal daughter returned home, but she would only be forgiven if she stayed.
“Mummy, I can’t,” she whispered.
“Then you should go now,” Llewellyn said. “And we’ll forget that you were here.”
Skye cleared her throat. “Followers of the Goddess take care of strangers. Don’t I rate that much?”
“That much,” her mother affirmed. She gestured to the dining table. It was a cheesy modern thing made of fake wood, not their old table, the one Yorks had carved their initials in for over a century.
“Sit and eat,” her mother said coolly.
Skye knew she needed the strength to travel to rejoin the others; otherwise she would have left. She sat down stiffly and refused to look again at the little boy who was jabbering away in Melody’s arms. She had always wanted to bean aunt, but even that was denied her. If her family wasn’t going to help her any more than they would a stranger, then she would offer them no more than a stranger would.
Her mother set down an earthenware pitcher and a cup. It was teatime, and Skye smelled steeping lavender and jasmine, her mother’s special blend. But no tea was offered, only water. By the time her mother brought Skye two cucumber-and-watercress sandwiches, Skye had drunk all the water. She could feel her injuries begin to repair themselves. She aided them with a whispered spell.
She ate quickly, eager to be gone. When she was done, she stood slowly, aware that this was the last time she was likely to ever see her family.
“Thank you,” she said. “Blessed be.” She turned to her sister. “Merrily met, and merrily parted.”
A tear ran down Melody’s cheek. No one else answered as she let herself out the front door.
T OLEDO , S PAIN
F ATHER J UAN , F ATHER S EBASTIAN , J ENN , A NTONIO , J AMIE , H OLGAR , S ADE , AND E STHER AND L ESLIE L EITNER
“I’m going,” Jamie announced. “Now.”
They were sitting in a little anteroom off the monastery’s chapel. They’d been about to leave when Father Sebastian had glided in like a short, skinny angel of the Lord Himselfand taken Father Juan off for a chat. Now the priests were back, and two tenser men Jamie had never seen. Which meant . . . more talking .
And not fighting.
Talking didn’t solve anything. All the plotting and planning in the world hadn’t saved Eriko, and it wouldn’t save Skye. Staking vampires would, and killing sympathizers would. Blowing up the enemy’s stronghold would.
But not talking.
If the hunters of Salamanca were the last best hope of mankind, maybe it was time to restore his Catholic schoolboy faith in miracles.
Although that would be a
Skye had run to the academy to escape Estefan. Only fourteen, she hadn’t wanted to tell her family that she had an evil stalker. With sudden clarity Skye realized that she hadn’t told her parents about Estefan not because she believed they couldn’t help her, but because deep down she had believed that they wouldn’t . They would have just hidden her away from him. They never would have trained her how to stand on her own and defend herself.
And staring at their faces now, she knew she had been right to go. In a flash, the guilt she had felt for leaving her family for Salamanca vanished. She had done what she had to do in order to save her life. There was no shame in that.
“I’m injured,” she said slowly. “I would appreciate some food and water.”
There was a moment of silence that seemed to last an eternity.
“So, you didn’t come because of us?” Melody asked. “You came because you’re hungry ? I’m sorry,” she added quickly. “That was unkind.”
“No, I’m sorry,” Skye said. They used to be so close. Lying about Estefan, then running away, had changed all that.
Skye looked at her mother. “I can’t, not just yet.”
“If not now, then when?” her mother asked quietly. There was a challenge in her voice. Skye was the prodigal daughter returned home, but she would only be forgiven if she stayed.
“Mummy, I can’t,” she whispered.
“Then you should go now,” Llewellyn said. “And we’ll forget that you were here.”
Skye cleared her throat. “Followers of the Goddess take care of strangers. Don’t I rate that much?”
“That much,” her mother affirmed. She gestured to the dining table. It was a cheesy modern thing made of fake wood, not their old table, the one Yorks had carved their initials in for over a century.
“Sit and eat,” her mother said coolly.
Skye knew she needed the strength to travel to rejoin the others; otherwise she would have left. She sat down stiffly and refused to look again at the little boy who was jabbering away in Melody’s arms. She had always wanted to bean aunt, but even that was denied her. If her family wasn’t going to help her any more than they would a stranger, then she would offer them no more than a stranger would.
Her mother set down an earthenware pitcher and a cup. It was teatime, and Skye smelled steeping lavender and jasmine, her mother’s special blend. But no tea was offered, only water. By the time her mother brought Skye two cucumber-and-watercress sandwiches, Skye had drunk all the water. She could feel her injuries begin to repair themselves. She aided them with a whispered spell.
She ate quickly, eager to be gone. When she was done, she stood slowly, aware that this was the last time she was likely to ever see her family.
“Thank you,” she said. “Blessed be.” She turned to her sister. “Merrily met, and merrily parted.”
A tear ran down Melody’s cheek. No one else answered as she let herself out the front door.
T OLEDO , S PAIN
F ATHER J UAN , F ATHER S EBASTIAN , J ENN , A NTONIO , J AMIE , H OLGAR , S ADE , AND E STHER AND L ESLIE L EITNER
“I’m going,” Jamie announced. “Now.”
They were sitting in a little anteroom off the monastery’s chapel. They’d been about to leave when Father Sebastian had glided in like a short, skinny angel of the Lord Himselfand taken Father Juan off for a chat. Now the priests were back, and two tenser men Jamie had never seen. Which meant . . . more talking .
And not fighting.
Talking didn’t solve anything. All the plotting and planning in the world hadn’t saved Eriko, and it wouldn’t save Skye. Staking vampires would, and killing sympathizers would. Blowing up the enemy’s stronghold would.
But not talking.
If the hunters of Salamanca were the last best hope of mankind, maybe it was time to restore his Catholic schoolboy faith in miracles.
Although that would be a
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