Page 85 of Bewitching the Wolf

Auntie leans forward, squinting at the lit-up screen. “It makes no sense to me. What’s it telling you?”

“So far, it’s all going to plan,” Otis says. “I know where the cape is. There’s a small transmission problem somewhere along the wiring that’s affecting sound. It’ll take me an hour or so to work through it, then we’ll be able to hear every conversation those bastards have, and we’ll know what they’re up to.”

“When I read my tea leaves this morning it was clear that a seismic change is about to take place,” Aunt Felicia says.

Otis looks at her dubiously. He is definitely not a tea leaf-reading kind of guy, but he’s too polite to say so.

My aunt looks at Traggar, as if for support. “Traggar, you’ve picked it up too?”

“Yes, I’ve sensed for weeks that the white magic is gathering pace. That it’s almost time for it to break free of the shackles that have bound it.” There’s confidence in his tone, and I want so badly to believe him when he says, “Who knows, that time could even be today.”

CHAPTER 24

JAX

Mom’s arms are around me.

Her heart beats against mine.

Her body is warm, flesh and blood and bone. She’s not a dream, not a figment of my imagination.

Her once-soft features are gaunt, her hair almost silver when once it was a deep chestnut, but…

She is my mom.

And she is alive.

“You found me, Jax.” Her palm goes to my cheek, her green gaze stretching into my soul.

“I tried so hard, Mom, for years,” I croak.

“I know. I know. But the time was not right. Now it is.”

I nod, gulping back the tears of joy, not sure exactly what all this means, but knowing that something momentous is unfolding.

“How are you, my son?” she says softly. “And Clem, how is my little girl?”

“I’m good, Mom.” The words are painfully inadequate, but how do you sum up fifteen years in one sentence? “And Clem is not so little anymore, she’s twenty-five now. She’s healthy and… happy.” I gulp hard. “But Dad is—Dad is…” I don’t know how to speak the word out loud.

Mom puts a finger to my lips.

“It’s okay, Jax. You don’t have to tell me.”

Her green eyes spell her sadness. Somehow, she already knows that Dad is no longer with us. “The time to talk will be soon, not now.”

I move to help her as she struggles to sit, but already the cape is supporting her, assisting her. I watch in in wonderment as it molds around her, and props her up. It knows what it needs to do. And it suddenly strikes me that the runes Tippy and Felicia sewed into the seam yesterday have allowed the cape to find her. Those strange little chitters were joyful sounds at being reunited. No wonder Felicia warned it might get emotional.

And why shouldn’t it? Because I sure as hell am.

“Sumi, tas sha,” Mom murmurs softly, and the cape expertly removes the tubes from her body. It then thins itself into the shape of a walking stick, enabling her to lean on it as she stands.

For a moment I just stare, fascinated, but the urgency in Mom’s voice brings me back.

“Honey, we have to go. The dark forces are closing in on us.”

As if on cue, I hear voices approaching. Shouting. Footsteps pounding along the corridor, toward us. My wolf growls. I feel it planting itself firmly within me, huge paws and claws unfurled, ready to shift if need be. To fight.

I telepath for it to back down.