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Chapter Seventeen
Memere was already out the newly opened hole in the side of the tree before her words had properly sunk in.
One second we were talking about how it was kill or be killed with this fun little curse I’d put on myself, and the next minute she was talking about someone we had to go rescue?
What?
Wilder and I exited the tree behind her, and the trunk fused closed after us. I was used to it after so many years of seeing it every day, but Wilder did a double take, not quite able to believe his eyes.
We followed Memere on a very particular path through the bayou, one that left us hopping on slim roots and finding narrow passages through the brush. There was a way to get around here without a boat, as long as you knew the right places to step. Memere knew all the ways.
After about ten minutes we emerged onto a hard-packed parcel of land I recognized immediately. The paths were overgrown with moss and new plants in the years since I’d last seen it, but it was unmistakable.
The Loups-Garous encampment.
Seeing a little metal boat not unlike the one Wilder and I had rented the day before made my heart skip a beat and my throat suddenly go dry.
They couldn’t be back, could they?
The area looked as if no one had lived here in ages, but that boat was a telltale sign of trouble.
The encampment wasn’t right on the waterfront, but rather set back a few hundred feet. We’d had to know where it was when I’d lived here, because avoiding these maniacs had practically been a full-time job. Seeing it so run down was a relief, but also vaguely unsettling, like it had been left here just waiting for them to claim it again.
I wish Callum had burned the place to the ground when he’d come to clear them out.
We made our way from the shoreline where the boat was parked, deep into the trees where an encampment of ragged, rotting tents was built around a packed circle on the ground where the dirt was still darkened by years worth of old blood stains.
A few rickety looking building remained upright, but even from where I stood it was obvious the roofs had all caved in, making the area totally unlivable.
I kept watch on the ground for the pits I knew they had dug to keep prisoners in. Secret had once been in one of those, and she hadn’t spoke too lovingly of the memories.
We were almost at the center of the camp when a sound from inside one of the shacks made me freeze. Wilder took a step in front of me, pushing me behind him out of instinct. He tried to reach for Memere but she shook his arm free and hobbled towards the shack.
She took the steps slowly and they creaked under her feet as if even her light weight might be too much for them to handle after this long. When she pushed open the door, I half expected a wild-eyed maniacal werewolf to come charging out at us, fangs bared, ready for a fight. My body was coiled and ready to jump into action.
Instead, it opened on Santiago pulling a shirt on over his head, his muscular tattooed back exposed to us. I didn’t need to see his face to recognize him.
He glanced over his shoulder, took one look at Memere and smiled broadly.
Much to my complete astonishment, she looked right back up at him and smiled herself, an honest, open, downright shameless grin. Then she held out a hand, he offered his arm, and they walked out together, joining us back in the center of the camp.
What. The. Actual. Fuck.
“Are you two old friends or something?” I snapped, stepping out from behind Wilder.
Santiago was still beaming when he looked at me, but the second he recognized the fury on my face he smile faltered. “No. We’ve never met. I told you that.”
“Yeah, well, to be honest I’m not entirely convinced you’re ever telling me the truth. You knew what had cursed me, didn’t you? You could have told me when we were at your house.”
He went pale and glanced to Memere who gave him a faint nod, her fingers still wrapped around his elbow.
“I knew.”
“So why send me all the way out here? Why make me waste so much precious goddamn time when you could have given me the answer yourself?”
“Because then he couldn’t follow you here,” Wilder answered for him.
The obviousness of the answer was like a slap in the face, and I felt so stupid for not having seen it myself. Of course. Of course the only reason he would send me out here was so he could finally meet the great La Sorciere for himself.
