Chapter 9

I wasup with the dawn, for once. Grams was showering—I could hear the water running. I dressed in a pair of black leather pants, a black V-neck sweater, and a black vest. My tattoos that covered me from shoulder to wrist on both arms were mostly hidden. It was too cold for short sleeves, when I had the feeling Grams would have me out and about every day for a long walk.

I texted Bree, telling her what had happened. I was about to make my breakfast when the doorbell rang. As I peeked through the window, I saw Von and the other men there.

"Hey," I said, opening the door. "How was the night?"

"Uneventful. We saw the deputies pull in twice." Von glanced at his watch. "We'll be back tonight around nine. I'll text you before we arrive, so we don't startle you by just showing up."

"Are you sure you want to do this?" I asked. "Kyle's so kind but really, I hate inconveniencing you."

"It's our job, Ma'am. We belong to the Pack's security force. And truly, we don't mind. See you tonight." He nodded as Kells tipped his hat. James gave me a friendly stare. As the three of them headed out, I stopped them.

"Would you like coffee first? I've got a spare Starbucks gift card—there should be enough on it for coffee and pastries, if you like." I hated feeling like I was taking advantage of them, but again, Von shook his head.

"We're good. We appreciate the offer, though. See you tonight." He and his men took off down the steps, heading toward their cars that were parked in the strip for my customers.

I watched them go, then glanced back at my shop. I was waiting for the insurance adjusters to come out and take their pictures. Now, though, I wondered, would I would ever open the shop again? And if not, what would I do instead?

"Well, good morning. You're up early," Grams said.

"Yeah, I wanted to say bye to the boys. They'll be coming back tonight," I added. Turning back to Grams, I said, "I'm heading down to the mailbox to check the mail. When I get back, we can make breakfast."

"Nonsense. I'll whip us up something. Fancypants can help me, can't you?"

The dragonette was hovering behind her. He bobbed his head quickly, which I'd come to equate with a dog wagging its tail, and said, "Of course. I'd be happy to offer my services."

"All right. I'll go check the mail, you two make breakfast." And with keys in hand, I headed out the door and toward the driveway.

* * *

Normally,I would drive to the mail box—the driveway was long and, given the night's rain, it was still muddy, even with the gravel covering it. But Grams had lit a fire under me and I decided that it was time I stopped doing everything the easy way. It was time that I stretched myself a little.

The morning was dry and partially clear. The rain had eased off some time around three AM, but the smell of moisture still hung heavy on the wind, and my guess we'd be seeing more before nightfall. The tang in the air—pungent and slightly acidic—stung my nose as I jogged slowly along the rain-slicked drive. The trees were listing in the breeze, which was steady and constant at around ten miles per hour. I shivered lightly, feeling the weight of winter approaching.

The drive was cloistered tightly on both sides with trees and shrubs, and I paused as I looked up at one of the power poles to see a loose wire hanging down. That must be the alarm wire, I thought. I stopped in my tracks and put in another call to the alarm company. This time, an actual human answered.

"I have an appointment to repair my alarm system on Sunday. I just wanted to let you know that I found where the cable was cut. My name's Elphyra MacPherson." I walked over to one of the fallen logs covered with moss near the cable. It wasn't close enough to put me in danger should the cable still be live, but it was close enough to see it clearly. As I settled on the log, a large spider—a striped orb weaver—quickly moved away. Her web—I assumed it was a ‘her'—was stretched from a huckleberry bush to the nurse log, and my presence had disturbed her. At least she was smart enough to recognize that I was too big to be prey.

"Oh yes, here's the appointment. Let me put you through to your agent." Before I could say anything, she had moved me to ‘hold' and I was listening to some gods-awful elevator music version of a Rolling Stones's song.

I huddled for a moment, thinking I was going to have to just hang up and call again later, when another actual human came on the phone.

"Ms. MacPherson? My name is Tim Caramari. I see your alarm wires were deliberately cut?"

"Yes, and I found out where. I'm staring at the hanging wire right now. I don't know if it's live, so I'm not going to walk up to it, but I can see clear enough from where I'm standing that it looks like a clean break." I sighed. "I'm worried that it might cause a fire if it's still live."

"We turned off the power to it on this end, so that it shouldn't be a danger. Don't worry about it. I've emailed you a copy of your ticket number, and we'll see you on Sunday. Thank you for your patronage."

Before I could protest, he had hung up on me. Grimacing, I stood and took off again, heading for the mailbox.

* * *

By the time I returned,the clouds had socked in again and rain was imminent. I just made it through the doors when the downpour started.

"Well, that was close," I said. "What's for breakfast?"

Fancypants looked none too pleased. "I wouldn't get my hopes up, if I were you," he said.

Curious, now, I peeked into the kitchen and froze. The breakfast on the table looked like grilled fish, a colorful protein shake, and a piece of whole wheat toast.

"Fish, for breakfast?" I wasn't necessarily averse to the thought, but it seemed odd.

"Lots of good protein. The protein shake is filled with vitamins and nutrients, and the toast will give you energy. Sit down and eat."

Fancypants had a similar looking plate, and he did not look happy about it. He poked at the toast with one talon, then glanced up at me. "I'm wondering where the doughnuts are?"

I stifled a grin. "Apparently, we're on a healthier dieting plan."

"Well…the fish is fine—I like fish, though I prefer beef—but…" Fancypants had developed a sweet tooth over the past few months and I felt bad for encouraging it.

"Hush now," Grams said. "Eat your breakfast. I didn't give you the protein shake because I wasn't sure whether the ingredients in it are okay for you. Instead, I gave you a glass of milk, which I know you can drink."

I settled down at the table, staring at the fish. It hadn't been fried, but that was fine with me. I loved salmon, and it looked juicy, with dill and olive oil drizzled over it. "This smells great. Where did you get the whole wheat, though?" I usually bought multi-grain bread, but I didn't care for how dry whole wheat was.

"I brought a loaf with me. We'll eat it up. I saw that you have multi-grain bread, and that will do, but I firmly believe in plenty of protein and fiber in the morning." I dug into my fish, surprised by how good it tasted. "What's on the agenda today? I assume you're starting my training?"

"Yes, we are. You belong to a gym, don't you?"

I froze. I had signed up at Iron-Fit in June, but so far, my attempts to show up and put in the work had been haphazard at best. Jon Elstad, the owner, kept trying to encourage me to take advantage of the private hour of training my membership included, but so far, I'd been remiss.

"Yeah, I do."

"I thought so. We're going to the gym today and, if your trainer can't fit you in, then we'll just work on our own. From now on, you're spending an hour or so there a day, and the days that you aren't weight training or cardio training, you'll be swimming, which is good for the joints."

I bit into my toast, feeling a lot like a kid who had suddenly been given chores I didn't want to do. "But…"

"But nothing. You can't open your business this week, not until someone fixes your shop. We might as well get a jump on matters. Then, every night we'll be taking on some magical instruction. Of course, Saturday, we'll skip the magic. The wake will be more than enough to handle. But you aren't going to meet your destiny by playing the couch potato."

"Can I have my coffee?"

"Yes, as long as you don't fill it full of sugar." Grams began to eat her own breakfast—a bowl of oats with a little milk and some nuts and raisins in it.

I shrugged. "Okay, then I'm in. I'll call Jon and see if he has time today, and if he does, we'll go talk to him about what kind of training I need." Resigned, and feeling good about it—at least this gave me a focus—I fell to my breakfast and finished off the salmon, toast, and the fruit-sweetened protein shake.

* * *

Jon Elstad owned Iron-Fit gym,one of the few gyms in Starlight Hollow, and arguably, the best. I had signed up for a gold-level membership, which meant I had access to the pool, and to a one-hour per week training session with Jon himself. I had paid two thousand dollars for six months, and, like so many people, promptly ignored the fact that I had a membership at all.

But as Grams and I approached the doors, I began to get a little antsy. I wasn't out of shape, not in the way that I couldn't jog, do a decent day's work, or hike an easy day's hike. But I had the feeling that her idea of getting me in shape meant far more than just toning up.

Jon was waiting for us at the desk. He grinned at me. "Good to see you here. I always feel torn about people who buy a membership but never get their asses into the gym. Like I'm taking advantage of them somehow."

"You aren't. This is Morgance MacPherson, my great-grandmother. Grams, this is Jon Elstad, the owner of the gym. Grams wants to set up a training program with you. For me, that is." I blushed, feeling self-conscious that it was taking my great-grandma to get me into motion.

"Whatever it takes! How do you do, Ms. MacPherson?—"

"Call me Morgance, young man. So you're the owner?" She eyed him up and down, nodding with a smile. "You look in good shape. I assume you avoid steroids?"

"Of course," Jon said. "I don't believe in taking performance enhancers that wreck your body. Eating right, getting enough rest, incorporating meditation, and getting enough of the right kind of exercise for your body are the four pillars to health, in my opinion."

"I'm glad to hear that. Can we sit?" She pointed toward his desk to one side of the counter.

"Of course. Layla, man the desk," he called over to a woman who looked around thirty-five. She was wearing yoga pants and a crop-top that covered up more than it exposed. Her blonde hair was held back by a snug, wide headband. She looked in great shape, and had a pale tan that looked generated by bronzer rather than by the sun itself.

"Of course, boss." She gave us a friendly nod, then took her place behind the counter.

Jon led us to his desk and we sat down in the chairs opposite. For a desk, it was clean—a few files resting in a wire-mesh inbox, pens, a notepad, and a laptop and mouse. He held up one finger, then brought up something on the computer. "All right, I have your initial intake information here. Has anything changed, regarding your health?"

"I was hurt with a bad concussion and some sprained neck muscles a couple months ago. I was attacked?—"

"I read about that in the paper. The King of the Olympic Wolf Pack was hurt, too. Badly, if I remember right. He belongs to my gym and I haven't seen him in weeks."

"His brother didn't tell you? He's in a medically induced coma right now, and he's been that way since we were both attacked. I'm still suffering occasional headaches, and some neck strain, but if I'm careful, I'm all right. But he…we're not sure." I decided to sum it up that way. The surgery was experimental and I wasn't sure if Kyle wanted the information out there. I had no idea what kind of enemies Faron might have and I didn't want to give them any ammunition.

"All right. So what can I do for you?" He turned to Grams. "What do you want her trained in, and why, if I might ask? It helps if I know the end goal."

"The end goal is to prepare her to hold her own against demons. I know that you can't guarantee that sort of training, but we want her hardened and capable of fighting back against what can be brutal creatures. I can coach her in magic, but I can't give her the physical training."

Jon raised his eyebrows, glancing at me. "That sort of training…I can do it—or provide it, but I can't make the horse drink at the river. Elphyra, you have to be willing to put in the work, and that happens when you show up and follow through. All the desire in the world isn't going to do any good when I'm demanding you give me another dozen push ups and all you want to do is sit on the sofa and eat a bunch of chips."

I snorted. "You watched Dance Moms, too?"

"Yeah, and I have to say, at least Kenzie was honest about it. But seriously, if you aren't willing to do the work, save us both the time and frustration." He leaned forward, propping his elbows on the desk. "I can make you into a confident and self-sustaining warrior, but is this worth it to you?"

He asked good questions, I had to give him that much. I thought about it for another moment, then nodded. "I'm willing to put in the work. Onward, fearless leader!"

Grams played the Cheshire cat, her smile taking up most of her face. "I'll retire to the coffee shop next door and read. Join me when you're done."

I turned back to Jon. "Okay, where do we start?"

"You're not going to try to sneak out of this?" he asked, draping a towel around his neck.

"Nope." I shook my head. "Trust me, Grams has a good reason for wanting me to get into shape, and so do I. I needed this push to get moving."

He riffled through the files in his bottom desk drawer, then pulled out a sheet and paperclipped it to my file. "All right, let's assess where you're at. That way I can draw up a plan to specifically target your strengths and weaknesses."

He led me over to a treadmill. "Let's start with the treadmill."

I eyed it with suspicion, but stepped aboard. "Ready, willing, and able."

And with that, we got on with the assessment.

* * *

Grams was waitingfor me at the coffee shop. I went to the counter and ordered a triple shot latte, asking for sugar-free caramel. Foregoing the pastries, I joined Grams at her table.

"Well, that was eye-opening. I may look good, but my endurance and stamina suck, I'm pretty adept at weights, but I can barely eke out four pushups. He's writing up a workout plan. He wants me at the gym two days a week for weights, three for cardio, and 2 for swimming. An hour each day." I stared at my cup. "You know something, don't you? You're not just randomly taking an interest in my health, are you?"

During the assessment test, I'd let my mind drift so I didn't have to think about how out of shape I was. And the first thing I ran up against was the sudden realization that Grams knew about something that was going to impact my life.

"Is it the Butcher? Is he coming back after me?"

Grams sat still for a moment, then shrugged. "To be honest, I don't know if it's him or not. But these woods…they frighten me in a way very little ever has. There are dark forces, ancient energies that make their home here, and some have little regard for life other than their own. In my heart, I know that you'll be running up against them. I think your destiny, born from Scottish soil, is bound here. Your help is going to be needed."

She sounded far away and distant. But certainty infused every word.

"All right. I can see that. The Olympic Peninsula has a life of its own, and it takes many shapes and forms, reaching out from the Lady of Crescent Lake, to bigfoot, to other, darker forces grounded deep in the national park. The energies go back beyond the natives who lived here, beyond the first human to ever set foot inside the boundaries of the park area."

"You're right," Grams said. "There are nexus points around the world, where creatures from other realms can enter. This is one of them. Some of the trees here are over a thousand years old. I was just doing some research on my tablet when you came in. They've seen all the wars and skirmishes and lived on in silence, shrouded in mystery and their own deep thoughts. But they also provide an easy space in which to create a portal. Their magical energy is strong, hundreds of years old, and the Fae can use them."

"I don't know about the Fae, much. I would rather keep my dealings out of their realm?—"

"A wise decision, my girl. But other creatures out there, waiting for a way in. And demons can force a portal when it finds such an ancient soul. For tree souls are not like ours."

I leaned forward, realizing Grams would understand my feeling about my magic. "It's not easy being pledged as an earth witch. Our powers don't seem as flashy as fire and water, and sometimes I feel like we run the stables and the Fire and Water elemental witches are the ones who always get to ride in the parade."

"True, but your magic is rooted in the depths of the earth and all she can provide. Your magic is found in the stones and crystals, in the ancient halls under the grass, in the barrows of the bone-eaters. Your magic is tied to the world herself, and to all that makes the energy take form. Your magic can last a thousand years. Within that magic, the demons can take hold and worm their way in." And with that, she began to outline the magical teachings she wanted me to learn.