The Gathering (DR) Read online

  "You know them?" I said.

  "No, but they're obviously Cabal goons."

  They looked like normal mourners to me. The two guys in suits could be security--they were certainly big enough--but everyone else just looked ordinary. Until one of them took a two-way radio from his pocket and stepped away from the group, and I followed his gaze to see another "ordinary-looking guy" across the park, also on a radio.

  "Why are they still here?" I said. "Almost everyone's gone."

  "You're not." He swore under his breath. "They knew you'd come. They must have. They're searching the park now."

  "Okay, we knew that might happen. We'll lie low until everyone's gone."

  We continued watching. Another car arrived and a woman got out. She looked as ordinary as the rest of them. Older, maybe in her fifties, with short graying hair. She wore a stylish jacket and slacks.

  Ash cursed and scrambled up.

  "What?" I said.

  "Witch."

  I peered at the woman, who looked more like a prep school teacher. "How can you tell?"

  "By the long black hair and pointed nose." He shot me a look. "I recognize her, obviously. The St. Clouds only have one witch, as far as I know, and that's her."

  "One witch? Are they rare?"

  "No, it's just that sorcerers don't like working with them and vice versa."

  "Okay, so . . ."

  "Cabals have witches so they can use high-powered witch magic, like sensing spells."

  I remembered a memo I'd seen about our escape. Calvin Antone had been asking for a werewolf and the Enwright witches to help track us.

  "And sensing spells do what exactly?" I said, pretty sure I didn't want to hear the answer.

  "They . . . sense." He waved his hand and made a face, like this was a stupid question. "Like radar or heat detectors. The St. Clouds are going to wait until the park is clear of mourners, then have her start casting. When she does, we're toast. The Nasts are probably here, too, with their witch. A joint effort to get you guys off the street."

  "We need to get--"

  I looked down. The second guy with the radio was heading our way. To our left a man and a woman pretending to be a couple strolled along, but I could see the radio stuffed in the guy's pocket.

  "Yeah," Ash said. "Coming to your own memorial service? Really not a bright idea. We're trapped in this tree, Maya. The guys can get away through those woods. Except they have no way to know what's going on because we're the ones who can see and we have no way of telling them."

  "We need to--"

  "We're trapped, don't you get that? We can't get down there without being spotted, and if we can't get down, we're going to get caught as soon as that witch casts her spell."

  "Are you supposed to be helping? Because I thought that's why you came. To help."

  He answered with a scowl.

  "I'll take that as a yes, though it's hard to interpret, because glowering seems to be your all-purpose response. Telling me what won't work doesn't help." I looked up. "We can climb higher. What's the range on her spell?"

  "How the hell would I know?"

  "Higher, then, if that's the only option we have. But it doesn't help the guys."

  "You can't worry about the--"

  "Yes, I can."

  I leaned out as far as I dared, with the patrolling employees getting ever closer. I waved. No response from the thicket. I pulled a penny from my pocket and turned to Ash.

  "How's your aim?"

  "I'm the pitcher on my varsity baseball team and archery champ at my country club."

  I threw the penny. It didn't come close.

  Ash sighed and zinged one from behind me. It hit the right spot. So did a second. But the guys didn't pop up.

  "They're gone," Ash said. "Either that or they didn't notice. Nothing else you can do."

  "I can--"

  "Have you been holding their hands since the crash? Single-handedly fighting off the bears and wildcats and rattlesnakes?"

  "We don't have rattlesnakes."

  "They're big boys, Maya. They can take care of themselves. And your benandanti boyfriend seems to know you can take care of yourself."

  "He's my friend."

  "Why do you keep saying that? I don't care if you're going out with the guy, which you obviously are."

  "How is it obvious? Because we talk? Because we're close?"

  "Um, no. Because you're always talking. Except when you're whispering or giggling. And if by 'close' you mean 'can't keep your hands off each other'--"

  "Excuse me?"

  "Maybe you guys are trying to hide your relationship, but he can't get near you without finding an excuse to touch your hand or your arm, and you're just as bad."

  I glowered at him. "We've been through hell. It's called compassion. Maybe you should try it."

  "Yeah, that's not compassion, Maya." He lifted a hand against my protest. "Fine. You're just friends. Point is, Daniel will trust you're okay and get Corey to safety."

  Ash surveyed the ground. The three people we'd spotted earlier were still close by. Over at the nearly dismantled stage, the witch looked as if she was getting last-minute instructions.

  "Shit," Ash muttered. "I'm going to need to save you."

  "Excuse me? No one needs--"

  "I'm saving you, so shut up and be grateful." He moved to a crouch. "I'll get to the next tree and jump down. That'll create a distraction. When they take the bait, you run."

  He crouched and reached for the limb above his head.

  I pushed up. "I'm not letting you--"

  He wheeled so fast I nearly lost my balance. "If I'm putting my ass on the line, you'd damned well better stay right there, Maya. You think I'm a jerk now? This is me being nice. You come after me? I won't be nice. Now sit down and wait. They don't know me. They won't do more than chase me a bit and it'll give you time to get away. I'll find you later."

  He was right--they wouldn't recognize him. If he could create a distraction, I should use it.

  I watched him cross to the next tree. I tensed, ready to leap down and race into the woods. It was the safest place for me. I'd also run past where Daniel and Corey were hiding, so I could warn them if they were still there.

  Ash didn't jump down from that tree, though. Once he got to it, he must have realized it was closer to the next one than he thought, and I watched his dark figure make another leap. Then I heard something. A voice I recognized. I swiveled fast, following the sound, hoping I was wrong--

  Antone and Moreno walked from an SUV over to where the St. Cloud witch and two men were heading out to begin scouting.

  Ash was right. Both Cabals were here. They might be rivals, but it would be in everyone's best interests to work together on some issues. Like rounding us up before we caused trouble.

  But if Antone was here . . . I glanced up at the dark shape that was Ash, moving through the third tree.

  I got to my feet, grabbed the next branch and went after him. Adrenaline slammed through my veins and I moved so fast that when I was leaping to the third tree, I never even paused to check the distance, noticing only after I jumped that the next branch was too far. A brief flash of terror as I realized my mistake too late. A grunt of surprise from Ash as he saw me jump.

  Somehow I landed on the next branch easily, as if it'd been a mere step away. I looked back, wondering how I'd done that. Another power?

  Ash let out a stream of hissed profanity as he made his way toward me. "I told you--told you--to stay there. Are you trying to get us both--?"

  "You can't jump down," I said, crouched and holding the limb tight as I caught my breath. "He'll recognize you."

  "Who'll recognize me?"

  "Our . . ." I gulped breath. "Our father."

  "What?" His face screwed up. "You mean your dad?" He peered down. "Did he come back?"

  "No, our father. Our biological one." I pointed across the park. "Calvin Antone."

  He squinted. "That guy over there? In the jean jacket? That's . .
." He was looking away, so I couldn't see his expression.

  "It's our father," I said. "We've met. He used to work for the St. Clouds, then he switched sides. He's the one who tipped the Nasts off and started this whole mess."

  He continued watching Antone, then gave his head a sharp shake and turned on the branch to face me. "Doesn't matter. No way in hell he'll recognize me. You look like him. I don't."

  That wasn't true. When I first saw Ash, I'd thought he looked familiar. Now I knew why. Antone and I might share the same eyes and cheekbones, but Ash was nearly the spitting image of him. What had thrown me was his hazel eyes and brown hair. That's what he meant, I'm sure--that he didn't have our father's coloring. It didn't matter.

  "He'll recognize you," I said.

  "He's never met--"

  "Doesn't matter. Do you know why he quit the St. Clouds? Because they wouldn't give me to him. That's why he turned us in to the Nasts. Because they promised to give me to him."

  "That's you. That's not--"

  "He wants me because I'm the one he found. He's still looking for you. If anyone has ever taken a picture of you, you can be sure he has it. Probably in his wallet. Which would be very sweet--if he wasn't willing to mow down anyone who gets between us and him. He'll know you, Ash. I can guarantee he'll know you."

  "Fine." One last glance at Antone, then he pulled his gaze away and looked out over the park. "Now what?"

  "We go back to where we were and make a dash to the woods--"

  "They'll see us."

  "We can--"

  "You're only thinking of doing that because of your friends." He inched along the tree. "I get that you're worried about them. You guys have grown up together and you've been through a lot and Daniel is obviously . . . important to you."

  "All my friends are."

  Ash rolled his eyes but didn't pursue it. "That's great, I'm sure. Except when you're so concerned that you'll make a bone-headed move to reach them. You need to trust that they can look after themselves, Maya. You need to look after yourself."

  His gaze jerked left and I saw Antone, the witch, and the others less than a hundred meters away.

  Ash swore. "Great. Pep talk over." He met my gaze. "Either you come with me or I leave. I didn't come to have my ass hauled into a cage."

  "I'm with you."

  I scanned our surroundings. The tiny building housing the washrooms was right under the next tree. I pointed to it.

  Ash shook his head. "Already scoped it. Can't jump onto the roof without being exposed and the branches over it don't go far enough to get us to the other side, where we could jump down and be hidden."

  "Then we'll have to jump farther."

  "Too much risk. I can't see how thick the branches are, and--"

  "Has anyone ever told you you're hopelessly pessimistic?"

  "Has anyone ever told you you're recklessly optimistic?"

  "It's not reckless if you don't have a choice." I started out. "Follow my lead. Try not to fall."

  He muttered something under his breath, but he stayed behind me.

  FOURTEEN

  ASH WAS RIGHT. THE branch over the washrooms didn't extend all the way--not before it tapered off too much for us to balance on. We'd have to get close enough, try to jump over the building and hope we didn't thump down on the roof instead. I went first. The hard part of this was, well, the hard part--namely the ground at the end of the four-meter leap. I managed it, but pain still stabbed through my legs. I was safe, though, hidden on the other side of the small building.

  Ash wasn't quite so lucky. He wouldn't go as far out on the branch as I had. I'm sure he'd say it's because he was heavier, but I wasn't wrong when I said he could be overly cautious. His jump was a few inches short, which meant he didn't land on the roof, but his back did bump the edge. He hit the ground harder, too, and crouched there, teeth clenched as he inhaled and exhaled.

  "You okay?" I whispered.

  He glowered up at me.

  "Hey, we're where we wanted to be, right?" I tilted my head to listen. "No cries of alarm."

  He grumbled.

  "Yeah, yeah. Now turn around and give me your shirt."

  "What?"

  "We're trading shirts. I was wearing this one the last time Antone saw me. Then we're going to walk. From this far away, I'm hoping, if we are spotted, they won't recognize me if I'm with you. You're too small to be Daniel or Corey."

  He scowled. "Thanks."

  "It's a fact, not an insult. Stop being so damned sensitive and take off your shirt."

  We switched tops with a remarkable lack of further muttering on his part. I tucked my long hair under it, so from a distance, it would look short. There were more trees in front of us--too widely spaced for us to climb through, but they cast plenty of shadowy shade. On the other side was a playground, then another parking lot. Lots of obstacles in both. My plan was for us to just walk out of the park, as casually as possible, using what cover we could.

  It wasn't a great plan, but if our sensitive hearing picked up a cry or approaching footfalls, we should have time to run. They wouldn't use a tranq gun in a public park. Not with a scattering of parents and little kids over in the playground. Or so I hoped.

  "Okay, now hold my hand," I said.

  Ash looked at me like I'd asked him to swallow live bugs.

  "I'm your sister," I said. "If I have cooties, they're the same as yours."

  When he stuck out his hand, he looked like he was getting ready to arm wrestle. I took it, and he tensed, biceps flexing, stance widening.

  I sighed. "I'm not going to throw you over my shoulder."

  He snorted, as if such a thing was beyond the realm of possibility. I was briefly tempted to show him otherwise. Instead, I wrapped my hand around his fist and we set out, a teenage couple strolling through the park.

  We wandered, talking. Or I talked, to the point where another couple of guys passing by shot him sympathetic looks.

  As we approached the playground, I whispered, "We'll get behind that big slide structure, then hurry to the parking lot."

  He let out what sounded like a sigh of relief. We stepped into the park. A little girl stopped swinging to watch us. I smiled at her and she grinned back. When Ash looked over, the girl stopped smiling and jumped off to run to her mother.

  "Can you try not to frighten small children?" I whispered.

  He grunted and kicked up wood chips as we walked alongside the play structure, moving into the shade behind it. Only a quick dash to the parking lot, and--

  I caught a movement to my left and looked to see someone standing about fifty meters away, by the edge of the woods. A teenage guy in a suit. Staring at us.

  Brendan.

  I'd forgotten about Brendan.

  Could I make it to him? Just long enough to pass on a message?

  What message? What could I possibly tell him in thirty seconds or less that wouldn't just make matters worse?

  Not even thirty seconds--two of the searchers were heading straight for him. Walking fast, as if they'd just realized they had a Salmon Creek kid on the loose.

  I ripped my gaze from Brendan. He hadn't recognized me. Couldn't. Not from this distance. Not with Ash. Not when I was supposed to be--

  "Maya?" Brendan called.

  I didn't look over. Ash did, then swore. He pulled his fist from my hand and grabbed my wrist instead, yanking me along as he broke into a jog.

  "Maya!" Brendan yelled.

  "What the hell are you doing?" I said, tripping as I tried to pull free from Ash's grip.

  "He can't help you and I'm not letting you do something stupid--"

  "Like breaking into a run and letting him know it really is me?"

  He cursed as he realized his mistake and slowed.

  "Too late now," I muttered, grabbing his elbow. "Run!"

  We raced into the parking lot as shouts and cries rang out behind us.

  I didn't hear Brendan's voice again. I think they must have gotten to him, bustling h
im off before he was absolutely sure of what he'd seen. Who he'd seen. I hoped so. Really hoped so. I didn't want to think what they'd do if he insisted that he'd spotted me.

  We should have thought of that--what would happen if someone saw us and we couldn't warn them to keep quiet? We were so desperate that I think Ash was right--we were being reckless, however hard we tried not to be.

  We escaped the park. If you have enough of these encounters, eventually that's all it comes down to. Was anyone captured? Anyone hurt? No and no. Then it's not worthy of comment. We'd had a good enough lead on our pursuers, and by the time they got vehicles to come after us, we were gone.

  We returned to Stanley Park. We'd left our bag of extra clothes and supplies hidden there. The guys would come back.

  We returned around seven, after two hours on buses, transferring and retransferring just in case we were being followed. I expected the guys to be at our campsite when we returned. When they weren't, we settled in to wait.

  We'd been there for about thirty minutes in silence, which only added to the hours of silence since we'd escaped at the park. I'd tried several times on the bus to strike up conversation with Ash. It was met either with suspicion--what does it matter where I've lived?--or sarcasm--hobbies? sports? yeah, did I mention the varsity baseball and country club? By this point, I began to suspect "what's your favorite color" would be seen as intrusive. So I stopped trying.

  "What's it like?" Ash said finally as we sat on the logs around our nonexistent campfire.

  "Hmm?"

  "Shifting into a mountain lion. What's it feel like? Hurts like hell, I bet."

  When I didn't answer in the next two seconds, his face darkened. "I was just curious. Skin-walkers are supposed to be extinct. Not a lot of people I can ask."

  "I was trying to decide how to describe it. I know you're not happy to be here, Ash. I don't know what you expected. Not me, that's obvious. Maybe you're pissed because you came all this way and I don't seem grateful. I am. I really am. But I can't figure out a way to show that without pissing you off all the more. You've got your back up and there's no way I'm getting it down."

  "Do I?" His eyes narrowed. "Huh. Let me ask you this, Maya. In all these years, when you were growing up in your perfect town, with your perfect friends and your perfect parents, did you even think about me? Wonder where I was? Worry about me? Or were you just happy you didn't need to share all that? Because I've been thinking about you for as long as I can remember. Asking our mother about you. Wondering what happened to you. So, yeah, I dropped everything to come up here. And you really don't seem to give a shit."