Chapter Eight: Tamsin

Tamsin stared at the cabin door as Mason closed it behind him, and a sense of loss swept over her.

How bizarre was that? She missed her sworn enemy, the man who had driven her out of town and caused her so much grief. Even if that wasn't how he saw it.

She sipped her coffee, her eyes rolling back at the bitter taste and comforting warmth. It was so much better than she had remembered, so much more delicious than in her dreams.

Just like…

She tutted at herself. Why was her head filled with thoughts of Mason?

Because he was the only person she had any kind of contact with for years. It was understandable and completely normal, she told herself.

Her jaw clenched and her throat tightened as her sense of loneliness continued to crowd in on her. She'd learned to deal with it when she was on the island. What had helped her the most was knowing that one day, when the time of the prophecy was over, she could return. Return to her coven.

To the people she had trusted the most.

How wrong she'd been. It was as if her world had been turned upside down, and the light at the end of the tunnel seemed somehow farther and dimmer than it had when she had first been cast out from Wishing Moon Bay.

And even though she didn't like to admit it, she craved Mason's company. She had not realized how much she had missed people until she had been around them once again.

But alas, here she was alone on the side of a mountain, wishing to see the face of her enemy, hear the rumble of his voice, just one more time.

It would be funny, except it was not.

She looked down at the cup of coffee in her hand and took a sip. Oh, it was good. Just what she needed, along with a bath.

She'd feel much better, more like her old self, with hair that didn't feel like straw.

After draining her coffee, she put it down on a small table next to the armchair she had drawn closer to the fire. Then she grabbed a thick mitten and slipped it on her hand, before lifting the large pan of water off the hook over the fire and tipped it into the bath.

As the steam rose, she went to the hand pump and cranked it until the clear spring water splashed into the pan, filling it once more before she put it back on the fire.

So much for the mod cons she'd dreamed of while cooking fish she'd caught from the ocean on an open fire.

But as she worked, the routine of heating the water soothed her. She'd cope with whatever came her way.

If the last few years had taught her anything, it was how to adapt. And survive.

And she would survive this.

But at what cost?

Was she willing to sacrifice the coven for her own survival?

If she had asked that question before she'd learned of Guinevere's betrayal, the answer might be different.

With the bathtub filled with heated spring water, she went outside and surveyed the bleak landscape around the cabin. There was no easy way to reach the hideout where it sat on a rocky outcropping, and there was no cover for someone to hide their approach.

And still…she did not want anyone walking in unannounced while she was bathing. With an expert eye, she cast an appraising glance over the thorny shrubs and small pine trees that grew around the outcrop. Silent sentinels. "Whisper bush, whisper tree. If someone approaches, whisper to me."

With the spell cast, she went back inside, and drew the bolt across the door, even though it would do little to keep a wolf shifter or a witch out if they wanted to get inside. Then she stripped off her clothes, the same clothes that she'd worn when she left Wishing Moon Bay.

Oh! Heavens! How could such a simple thing bring so much joy? As the heat seeped into her bones, she finally relaxed and let go of the tension she had carried since her return. As she relaxed, her mind wandered, going over the events of the day and what they meant for her future.

She needed answers. And the one person she knew had those answers, or at least some of them, was no other than Guinevere Gwilym.

Tamsin clenched her fists at the thought of her coven leader. She'd always been so serene, so knowledgeable, so loyal to the women of the coven, her sisters.

But the woman standing beneath the ancient oak had been nothing like that. Guinevere had sounded desperate. She had put her faith, and the future of the coven, in the hands of Lyril. Her counterpart. The embodiment of everything the witches of the coven had been brought up the fear and despise.

Tamsin snorted. They sure hadn't looked like sworn enemies.

More like lovers.

Anger bubbled up inside her, but she forced herself to let it go, letting it evaporate out of her along with the steam from the water she lay in. Yet the thought remained.

Had Guinevere sacrificed Tamsin for love? But not just any love. The love of her enemy.

Her Coven Mother had been willing to have Tamsin killed rather than try to find a way to circumvent the prophecy with no one getting hurt.

Damn it! She ducked her head under the water and washed her hair in the fragrant shampoo that had sat in a glass bottle next to the tub. It smelled of lavender and mountain herbs. Then she added conditioner and leaned back, closing her eyes as she waited for it to work its magic.

After a final rinse, she ran her fingers through the silky strands and sighed happily.

Happiness that was short-lived.

Whisper me for you to hear, someone is close, someone is near.

The call of her spell tugged at her mind.

Tamsin sat bolt upright, the water sloshing as she grabbed a towel she'd found in one of Mason's packs and wrapped it around herself.

"Tell me tree, if you can, what is the name of the man?" Tamsin muttered a curse under her breath. What if it wasn't a man? What if it was her sisters? What if Mason had failed and instead of the wolves coming to finish her, Guinevere had decided to do the job herself?

Whisper from me to your ear, Valaky does draw near.

"Valaky?" She rubbed her body dry with the towel and reached for her clothes. Even though Mason had packed some clean fresh clothes in one of the packs, she was not ready to give up the clothes she'd worn since the day she'd left. Mostly because she had spent literally years weaving an intricate spell on them that meant they did not fray, or break, or wear, and they were self-cleaning. What more could a woman want?

And they were familiar, safe. A link to the old Tamsin, who had been so carefree.

Once dressed, she ran her fingers through her hair, brushing it out as best she could, since a hairbrush seemed to be the one thing Mason had not added to the packs.

Then she went to the door and peered out, her wet hair sending a shiver through her body as it met the chill air.

Dawn had broken. So how was Valaky here? He had always been more than a little mysterious, but surely that old vampire had not found a way to defeat sunlight.

Tamsin opened the door all the way and stepped outside. The mountain breeze rustled the leaves on the stunted trees, as they whispered to her the same thing over and over, Whisper me for you to hear, Valaky does draw near.

Her pulse quickened as anticipation grew. Could this be the sanctuary that she so desperately needed? Or would she find that even the dead and timeless Valaky could change in five long years?

The whispering got louder, and Tamsin went to the edge of the outcrop and looked down. There, below, climbing up the same mountain trail that she and Mason had taken only a few hours ago, two people approached.

One was the unmistakable figure of Valaky. Tall, upright, austere. Dressed in black from head to foot, which only highlighted his pale skin. Though he seemed wreathed in shadow, as if a black, billowing mist clung to the shape of him, obscuring his features.

The other… "Sophie?"

The approaching figures both turned their heads to look up at her.

"It is you!" At least one person was happy to see her!

"Tamsin!" Valaky tilted his head back, his face pale as the dawn sky.

"I don't understand." Tamsin moved closer to the edge and looked down. "How are you out in daylight?"

"Oh." Valaky waved his hand at Sophie, though the movement was hard to track in amongst the swirling shadows. "Sophie hath perfected an incantation to shield me from the harsh sun, yet vexingly, its reach is brief. Thus, where she doth tread, I must follow."

Tamsin smiled. There was that outdated, obscure speech she was so fond of.

"It's kind of fun having control over a vampire," Sophie said as they reached the bottom of the outcrop. "Can you climb?"

"Climbing, naturally, is within my prowess," Valaky scoffed. "The question lies in my inclination to do so. Can you not weave a spell of levitation? I am loath to soil my garments."

Tamsin laughed and covered her mouth with her hands. It was reassuring to know that some things had not changed after all.

"I suppose," Sophie replied as she cast a spell. "If only because I would have to ride on your back as you climbed, or else the spell might be broken."

With that, the vampire and the witch rose slowly into the air, as if they were riding an invisible elevator. When they reached the top of the outcrop, they stepped forward in sync.

"I can't believe you are here," Tamsin said, flinging her arms around Sophie.

"I could say the same about you." Sophie wrapped her arms around Tamsin and squeezed her hard. "You truly are real."

"I am," Tamsin said, and swallowed down a sob.

"When Charles Mellor told Valaky that he'd seen you, I didn't believe it. I thought it must be a trick." Sophie stepped back and looked at Tamsin with a critical eye. "You look...different."

"Five years alone will do that to a person," Tamsin said, trying to keep her tone light. "Though I'm starting to wonder whether being back in town is that much better."

"Five years too long," Valaky murmured as he studied her face, concern etched into his timeless angular features.

"But not quite long enough," Tamsin sighed. "I was supposed to stay there until the time of the prophecy had passed. Instead, it seems I have returned just in time for it to come to fruition."

"How did you get back?" Sophie asked. "You were so far away, I didn't think it would be possible to retrieve you with no help. And like you, I hoped your return would have been after the time of the prophecy had passed."

"I was attacked." Tamsin clenched her fists. "Some kind of assassin attacked me. And in the scuffle, we fell into my hideout, only that's not where we landed."

"The Lonely Tavern?" Sophie said with some excitement.

"How did you guess?" Tamsin asked.

"Because there is no other plausible answer," Sophie said with a small smile.

"And us magically falling from an island, goodness knows where, into a tavern in Wishing Moon Bay is plausible?" Tamsin wasn't sure if everyone in Wishing Moon Bay had fallen on their heads while she was away.

"Regrettably, indeed," Valaky drawled. "That place remains an enigma, a puzzle long abandoned by many in their futile endeavors to comprehend it."

"But this assassin?" Sophie asked, her brow creased. "Where did he come from?"

"Perhaps the tavern sent him there?" Valaky suggested quickly, with a hint of displeasure. "Mayhap the connection was already forged, and he ventured from here to there, only to fall back through along with you."

"Yes, he might have popped out of your hideout unseen," Sophie agreed. "Although I don't think the tavern would have sent someone to do you harm. That place is a lover, not a fighter."

"No," Tamsin said. "He did not come from my hideout."

"Are you certain?" Valaky said. "It is…plausible, no?"

"It doesn't matter for now," Sophie said. "Where is Mason?"

"Mason?" Tamsin asked, but then she realized Charles would no doubt have relayed the news that Tamsin was traveling with the wolf shifter.

"Yes, where is he? Let me deal with that young cur. I'm surprised you didn't smite him when you saw him." Valaky bared his fangs, but as he did so, Sophie sidestepped away from him. "Ouch!" With a swift motion, Valaky pulled his hand across his chest and quickly closed the distance between him and Sophie. As the shadows surrounding them thinned slightly, he found himself momentarily exposed to the weak sunlight.

"No one touches Mason," Sophie said sharply. "If he meant Tamsin harm, he would have done something about it this whole time when they were together."

"He's not here, anyway," Tamsin said. "He's gone back to his pack."

"There, I told you!" Valaky pointed. "He is not to be trusted."

"You're wrong," Tamsin said. "He's one of the few people I can trust."

Valaky's eyes shifted from side to side, which looked kind of like guilt. But what had he to be guilty about?

"I scarce believe mine own ears," Valaky declared. "You place trust in a member of the DuskWood Pack? Worse yet, the very offspring of the alpha?"

"I do," Tamsin said with conviction, conviction she felt deep in her soul.

"Why does he return to his pack, then?" Valaky asked. "Why does he not remain here, protecting you?"

"He is protecting me," Tamsin said. She truly was defending the man she had spent all this time hating. He still had some questions to answer, but she wouldn't get anything else out of him if Valaky got to him.

"Protecting you by abandoning you to this..." Valaky curled his lip as he glanced over her shoulder at the cabin. "Hovel."

"He's gone to get my brooch," Tamsin said. "So that Guinevere does not use it to locate me. His father has it, and intends to work with…Sophie, I don't know what you know, but Guinevere has betrayed us. She is in league with the wolf pack."

"Your brooch…" Sophie pressed her lips into a thin line.

"Yes, Mason gave it to his father as proof he'd killed me."

"Oh dear. We have little time." Sophie hurried toward the cabin.

"Pray, wait." Valaky scampered after her, akin to a puppy on a leash. "What is the cause of such haste? Should we not travel somewhere safer than this place?"

"If Mason doesn't get the brooch back, then it will lead them all here," Sophie said. "I need to leave."

"Wait, you need to leave?" Tamsin stopped and looked at Sophie.

"Yes. Just after I teach you the spell for Valaky. Then you must go to the tavern. You'll be safe there."

"We're not coming with you?" Tamsin pulled away.

"No, because once the location spell has been cast, they'll be led to me, and you can't be anywhere near, otherwise the wolves will sense you." Sophie looked into her eyes. "The brooch Mason gave to his father is mine."