25. Mai

Chapter twenty-five

Mai

I sat beside Jase's bed, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest as he slept. Thomas had assured me that his arm was healing, but the sight of the bandages covering his body still made my stomach churn. I couldn't help but feel responsible, even though I knew, logically, that Jase had been doing his duty as a member of the Pack. If he wanted to be an enforcer, this is what he would face on a daily basis.

Jase stirred, his eyes fluttering open. He managed a smile when he saw me. "Hey. You been here long?"

"Long enough to hear you whisper Amara's name in your sleep. On your thoughts, is she?"

"What? No! Definitely not!"

I grinned at him. Looked like I'd hit a nerve. I didn't point out that I was just teasing and all he'd done was snore. Instead, I asked, "How are you feeling?"

Jase sat up and swung his legs off the bed. He moved his bandaged arm around, testing it out, then grinned at me. "Better. Don't worry, I'll be up and watching your back again in no time. "

I tried to return his smile, but it felt forced. "I know you will, Jase. But I hate seeing you get hurt. The life of an enforcer is dangerous and violent, Jase. Next time you might not be so lucky. What was the worst thing that happened on your delivery job? Did a little old lady chase you down the street with her cane because you forgot her prune juice?"

Jase shook his head. "You're not going to persuade me to give it up, Mai. I know the job is dangerous. But it's also about standing up for the weaker members of our Pack, protecting those who can't protect themselves. I was younger than you and Sofia, but I still saw the damage Oliver caused when he was Alpha."

Oliver had been a vicious, unhinged asshole that used the Pack to sell guns, often faulty ones, and let his enforcers do what they liked. They made sure that anyone they didn't like suffered.

"I want to do some good, Mai. I believe in what you and Ryan are trying to build here. It's what this Pack deserves and I'm going to do everything I can to support you. So, no, I'm not going to change my mind about being an enforcer. I'm going to work hard, I'm going to train more and I'll be the best damn enforcer this Pack has seen."

I sighed, knowing I wasn't going to be able to talk him out of it.

A soft whimper from the corner of the room drew my attention. The teenage witch we'd rescued from the lab was stirring. Her eyes flew open suddenly, wide with fear as she took in her unfamiliar surroundings. She tried to sit up, but her frail body seemed to struggle with the effort.

Jase jumped off his bed, and approached her, hands up and voice gentle. "Hey, it's okay. You're safe now. No one's going to hurt you here. "

The girl's gaze darted between Jase and me, uncertainty etched on her gaunt features. Her eyes lingered on Jase for a moment, and a flicker of recognition passed over her face. "You...you're the one from the lab," she whispered, her voice hoarse. Her accent was odd, not one I recognized, and I'd traveled all over in my four years away. "Your moon star was bright. I couldn't let it go out."

Moon star? Okaaay.

Jase nodded, a grateful smile on his lips. "That's right. You were incredibly brave back there. Thank you."

I stood up slowly, not wanting to startle her. "I'm Mai, and this is Jase. Can you tell us your name?"

The girl hesitated for a moment. "Esme," she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. "My name is Esme."

Good, a name was a start. "How old are you, Esme?"

She glanced at Jase, then back at me. "There have been seventeen summer solstices since I arrived here."

Seventeen? That surprised me. I'd put her at fifteen tops.

There was a soft knock at the door and Thomas walked in. Normally he was an imposing figure, tall with bulging muscles, but he had hunched his shoulders and made himself appear smaller, a technique he used when dealing with vulnerable patients.

Thomas approached Esme cautiously, his steps measured and slow. He crouched down beside her bed, bringing himself to her eye level. "Hello there," he said, his deep voice warm and soothing. "I'm Thomas. How are you feeling?"

Esme's eyes widened slightly, but she didn't seem to mind Thomas being here too. "I am not injured," she managed, her voice still weak .

Thomas nodded, a kind smile on his face. "That's good to hear. You've been through quite an ordeal." He paused for a moment, studying her face. "Would you like something to eat? I'm sure you must be hungry."

At the mention of food, Esme's eyes lit up, but she nodded guardedly, as if not wanting us to know just how hungry she was.

We made our way to the kitchen, Thomas leading the way, with me and Jase following and Esme a few steps behind us. I knew that Esme might not feel comfortable having anyone behind her. Her steps were wobbly though, and I could hear her falter more than once. I wanted to turn and help her, but the first time Thomas looked over his shoulder at me and shook his head.

The enticing aroma of freshly baked bread and chili beckoned us forward. Wally was in the kitchen stirring a large pot, wearing his favorite frilly pink apron. He turned as we walked in. "Just in time! I've got food ready for you."

Esme hesitated in the doorway as the rest of us sat at the kitchen table.

"Wally, this is Esme," I said, introducing them.

"Pleased to meet you, young Esme," Wally smiled at her, then turned back to the pot. "I hope you like chilli, I'm made way too much food again."

We all made ourselves busy, looking anywhere but at Esme. After a moment, she made her way over and sat in a chair at the other end of the table.

Wally served up generous portions of the steaming chili, accompanied by thick slices of crusty bread. He placed a bowl in front of Esme, who stared at the food with a mixture of hunger and disbelief .

As soon as Wally stepped back, Esme grabbed the spoon and began to devour the chili. She tore off pieces of the bread, dunking them into the chili and stuffing them into her mouth, barely pausing to breathe between bites.

"You should slow down, Esme," Thomas warned gently. "Too much too quickly and you'll make yourself sick."

Esme looked up at Thomas, then took a deep breath and deliberately slowed down her movements.

After Esme had emptied her bowl, and said no when Wally asked if she wanted more, I leaned forward. "Esme, do you know where you are right now?"

Esme glanced around, taking in her surroundings. "Yes. I'm in a kitchen."

"I mean, do you know where in the country you are?"

She thought about it. "Somewhere in the north. They moved me around a lot, but it's colder up here than the last place they kept me. It's easier for my magic to trickle like a broken tap, drip, drip, drip, they don't notice I keep my sleeping room cold. I like the cold. It keeps the bad smells away, and the bad men. They don't like it chilly."

My heart clenched at the thought of her being "kept" anywhere or who the bad men were. "Can you tell us what you were doing at the lab where we found you?"

Esme's gaze dropped to her empty bowl, and she seemed to shrink into herself. "My coven…they were no good. They were supposed to protect me. That's what covens do, yes?"

I nodded. "Yes, covens are like Packs. They are supposed to protect their members. Did your coven not protect you, Esme?"

"They did not! My uncle sold me to werewolves two summer solstices ago." Her voice was barely above a whisper. "I was taken to different places. Here and there, there and here again. Never good places. Not family, not home. Just bad men and bad smells. They make me cast a spell on these wave pills, over and over and over and over. Wherever they take me, that's what I have to do. Or no food for Esme. No sleep for Esme. No happy Esme."

My wolf snorted in disgust. Mistreated pup. Kill those who did this.

I paused. It was interesting that my wolf saw Esme, a witch, as a pup. She felt connected to her. Why? And why would a coven sell one of their own, and to werewolves of all people?

I reached out and gently touched Esme's hand, trying to offer some comfort. "Esme, do you know what the spell you cast on the pills does?"

Esme nodded, a haunted look in her eyes. "It makes wolves go all gray. But not in a good way. Their bonds become torn, black and shriveled. That's what they see, even if it's not really there. Poor little wolves, they break the bonds, try and make new ones, but the old ones, they are good, they just don't see it anymore. The spell it makes messes with their minds, makes them doubt the people they care about most. It is an evil thing. That I know. Yes, that I know."

She shuddered, and something I couldn't make out flickered across her face. "But if Esme doesn't do the spell, bad things happen. Bad men, bad smells. Pain. Hunger. These things became Esme, Esme becomes them."

I heard Jase's sharp intake of breath beside me.

I squeezed Esme's hand, trying to pour all the reassurance I could into the gesture. "Esme, I want you to know that what they did to you was wrong. No one deserves to be treated like that, and no one has the right to force you to use your magic against your will."

Esme's eyes glistened with unshed tears, and she gave me a small, tentative nod.

I looked at Esme, trying to keep my voice gentle as I asked, "How did you know to do this spell? Did you create it yourself?"

Esme shook her head vehemently, her eyes wide with a mixture of fear and disgust. "No, I told you it is an evil thing. My coven…my uncle, he taught it to me before they accepted money for me." Her voice trembled as she continued, "The werewolves who paid, they came. They wanted a witch who knew this spell. My uncle, he showed them me. Special Esme, special me."

A cold chill ran down my spine at the implications of her words. At the way her family, her coven, had used her. This wasn't just a case of a witch being sold and exploited; it was a premeditated plan to use Esme's magic to sow discord and mistrust among werewolves, to break our Pack bonds. Was this a witch plan, or a werewolf one? Why would werewolves agree to this?

Jase's face hardened, his jaw clenching with barely contained anger. "They knew exactly what they were doing," he growled, his hands curling into fists. "This whole operation, it's not just about the pills. It's about tearing apart our communities."

I turned back to Esme, my mind racing with questions. "Esme, is there a way to reverse the spell, to reverse the effects?"

She tilted her head to one side and seemed to consider my question. "My uncle said that all spells have a counter. Spells can go one way, then the other. Topsy turvy. Turvy topsy. So, yes, it is possible. "

I leaned forward, holding my breath. "And do you know the counter spell?"

"Oh no! No one taught that to Esme. Maybe it is waiting, silent little mouse spell, waiting to be found."

Well, that sucked. A reverse spell would have come in handy right about now.

"What about the werewolves who bought you? Do you know their names? Or the ones who kept you in the lab?"

Esme's face fell, and she seemed to shrink into herself once more. "No. No names. They were careful, tippy-toe careful, not to say names around Esme."

She wrapped her arms around herself, as if trying to hold herself together. "Code words, they used. Bad men were scared that I might try to use magic against them if I knew their true names." She laughed then, a bitter sound. "I would have, too!"

They were trying to cover their tracks, making sure that even if Esme escaped, she wouldn't be able to identify them.

"I might be able to help with that," Wally said, pulling out his phone. "I've been collecting photos of some of the werewolves we've encountered, trying to build a database of those we can't trust. Maybe you could take a look and see if you recognize anyone?"

Esme nodded hesitantly. Wally handed her his phone, and she began scrolling through the images, her brow furrowed in concentration.

I caught Wally's eye and gave him an appreciative nod.

Wally grinned, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "I'm not just a pretty face, you know," he quipped, trying to lighten the mood. "I've got brains to match these fabulous eyes." He fluttered his eyelashes at me, making me laugh.

Esme scrolled through the photos. Then she suddenly stopped, her finger hovering over the screen. "This one," she said, pointing to a stern-faced man with cold eyes. "And this one too," she added, indicating another photo.

Then Esme's finger landed on a third photo. "Ah-ha! Yes, indeed, ah-ha! It's an ah-ha moment!" she whispered, her voice trembling slightly. "I only saw him once, but he was the big boss man. The others, scared little lambs, they were, when he came calling. He said that they had consolidated—it's a big word, consolidated, but he used it, so I can use it too."

"What did they consolidate, Esme?" I asked gently.

"All the labs into one. He said, I overheard him talking, that they could up production with the consolidated—I like that word now, even if he did say it first—lab and it would make it easier, not having to move Esme around all the time, from lab to lab to lab to lab. Always on the move."

That matched what Talia had said.

Wally leaned in, studying the photo closely. "Are you sure, Esme? You only saw him the one time?"

Esme nodded, her gaze still fixed on the screen. "I remember this face. Big boss man. Like the whole sparkly world owes him and he will take it and burn it and eat it all up. But my brother will stop him. I don't have a brother yet, not yet, but I will." She touched the screen with her pinky finger. "They called him a name. Esme doesn't remember, but it was like a phantom, white and scary, there and then gone. "

Wally turned the phone around so I could see the photo, and my heart nearly stopped. There, staring back at me from the screen, was Brock.

I dug out my phone and called Ryan.

"I know who Ghost really is."