Rejected Mate and Following Fate

“Maybe we can speed between goal posts?” I point out, meaning from perch to perch where the crows are, we could hyper speed then wait on them to move, and go again. Which is exactly what we do the second we see them land further on and move to go. Racing to the next set of trees in the blink of an eye and the birds move again, in a game of follow me.

“I hope to god this is not some crazy idea and we’re not just following some random flock of ravens who are just trying to get away. I mean we’re kinda just assuming.” Meadow quips in and I giggle out of pure nervousness and frustration and also doubt. Maybe she’s right and were insanely following birds that have nothing to do with this. We just assumed, given Sierra’s text and then their freakish behavior that we should, and who knows, maybe their curiosity has them come to us, but mistrust pushes them to move further away when we get too close.

We hyper speed to the next set of trees that are further into overgrown landscape, light failing us, as they land on and do this four more times, covering a fair bit of distance in the shortest time. They maybe can’t speed like we can, but by air they can cover further ground than a normal human can walk, in a third of the time. So were making progress and we seem to be heading into denser wood and more of a forestry sort of weird space that’s neither green and luscious or sandy and rocky, but somewhere in between. It’s like a drying up, almost dead wood but dense enough to seem like it’s not. Eerie, something haunting about it as shadow’s lengthen across the ground and noises of night creatures start to come out subtly around us. We move fast, ignore the building anxiety that soon it will be pitch black and hope we are heading somewhere less rural, that maybe there’s a house at the end of this trail.

“This place is weird” I point out when we stop again and wait for the birds to move, kicking away dead tumbleweed that’s grazing my ankle and taking note of the terrain that’s way too abundant in plants for the desert like soil beneath us. It’s almost mystical in itself that something seeming so dry and arid can have so much vegetation.

“I get creepy vibes too.” Carmen admits in a low voice, seemingly aware that we’re not alone out here in the wilderness as multiple eyes start to shine from distant brush. Large and small animals taking note of our alien presence and peeking because they can obviously tell we’re not just wandering human. Animals tend to avoid the scent of wolves at a very large distance in this outer world.

We move again as soon as the birds settle once more, this stop and start game that’s becoming tiring the farther we plod on. We have come off the path a few trees back and now seem to be wading through wasteland of some sort with no sign of houses, manmade light, or roads in the front where we’re heading. Just dead trees blocking our view and lots of rocks for as far as the eye can see.

“I’ve got no signal on the cell either.” Carmen sighs, aggravated, and hands Meadow back her cell she had brought from the truck. “So, we can’t even check with Sierra if we’re heading the right way.” She adds with a furrowed brow and a stern expression making my last traces of hope fizzle out, like being drained of the last ounces of energy.

“God dammit” Meadows chirps in and slides it into her pocket after checking for herself. Muttering under her breath about cursed witches and damned nightfall, which only serves to make my hackles rise and my skin goosebump all over as the sun edge further down towards the horizon and the air turns cooler for lack of it.

I look up at the sky at the last dregs of fading light and back at the birds and really start to wonder at the likelihood of vampires being out here in this nothing space by chance if darkness comes fully before we get anywhere. It’s looking likely and even though we have nocturnal vision, I would rather have found a safe haven before they can come lurking out from their holes and crevices to walk the world. I know with my gifts it’s harder for vampires to really take us down and I know Meadow can hold her own, possibly Carmen too, although I haven’t witnessed it yet, I would rather not have to fight and battle for survival if we don’t have to.

Three more tree stops, and we can’t see the truck behind us anymore at all as its so far away and obscured by the trees and rocks we have passed. This seems to be taking us much further than any location Sierra sent and I’m starting to wonder if this is even right. My gut telling me that we shouldn’t be so trusting, and maybe we shouldn’t keep trying to push forward without an end in sight.

no tactical advantage, especially with only three of us. I turn to her with a stiff expression, my stomach sinking at the thought of coming this far only to now give in. I know it’s what I wanted, what my instincts

and so clear and loud it rings through as if spoken right at our ears. We can’t see anyone at all, and we all turn instinctually, claws ripping out and teeth baring as we crowd together back-to-back to make

with a growl as my heart hammers through my chest like a ward rum and a rustle of some nearby bushes alerts us to a dark figure slowly walking into the clearing. We

into view, although shrouded in shadow but I can still make out that she’s wearing a long black cloak, hood up which is oversized and seems to frame her head in a sinister way. Her entire face and body is concealed in both fabric and shadow and she stops just within vision to look at us from her bold position, no hint of fear at all. The largest of the ravens flies over and lands on her outstretched hand which appears when it gets close, showing a smooth almost youthful

said she was from. It sounds a little rustic, yet warm and she has a pleasing voice to listen to that pulls you in and intrigues. No hint of

this can’t be anyone else. Lurking out here with these birds, wearing a stereotypical witch’s cloak and showing face as the moon hits its highest point. She’s definitely spooky and

low almost husky and seductive sound, like rolling waves, that echoes around us eerily and the hint of bold confidence and lack of fear completely unnerves me. She doesn’t seem to care that three highly aggressive wolves are

your help.” I relax my stance and turn my claws and teeth away, nudging Meadow and Carmen to do the same in a show that we’re not here to harm her. Only Carmen obeys with a sigh and straightens up beside me, while Meds stays in protector mode, sticking to me

much that goes on around here that I don’t know about. My birds have very good ears. So, welcome, Miss Alora Santo.” She smiles, showing whitest teeth in the hints of her pale face, just barely visible from the shade of her hood and yet it still

certain we never once mentioned her around these damned birds. I

invade her territory and blurt it out, but it’s put me completely off kilter having her seem to know who we are and so smug about it. She’s not exactly welcoming and so far, she seems to like indirect answers and

in fact acting like I haven’t spoken, and instead looks to the sky with a sigh. I still can’t make out anything about her features other than she seems to have a youthfulness to her. It’s hard to put a finger on it, more than seeing her hand, but I get the vibes she is not that much older than Sierra physically. Mid-thirties at most. I’ve heard all about witches using anti-aging seduction, masking appearances to lure, and means to pull in innocents to trust them…or was that sirens? I forget. The books

Carmen comes right out with it in that haughty bitchy tone of hers, no warmth, only dry boredom and superiority, and for once it doesn’t annoy me. I mean its rude as hell, and I admire her total lack of fear around this witch, but she does have a point. I don’t want to be standing out here like this for the rest of the night. This witch has no concept of how dangerous it could be for us, or the fact,

in the most unattractive way.” She chuckles, that same girly, yet not young, sound that washes over us and the crow seems to cackle in response along with her. An evil vibrating noise that grates on my nerves. I swear it laughs at us. It’s that same little window tapping

eyes gleaming orange in the dark, full on hostility leaching out from every pore, given she does seem to know a hell of a lot. I’m certain we never said anything of the sort near her birds at all about carmen being Colton’s ex or my being

mama bear mode initiated as she steps in front of me and seems to grow taller.

I say it was these specific birds? You’ve come far my wee pets; you look like you need somewhere to sit and maybe a hot drink to calm that unwise rise of attitude. Know who you’re talking to and learn when to be silent!” The tone loses that almost friendly air and that superior edge and biting tone change the atmosphere completely. It’s an icy statement that makes Carmen sound like an amateur in terms of

pretty in a wholesome sort of a way visually, yet shrouded in maturity, underlying darkness, and wisdom, that gives her an older presence. Not outstanding, unearthly, stunning beauty, but she has definite attractiveness and a natural unmade up face with zero lines or wrinkles. She’s seductive, yet somehow looks pure, untainted by the world and has a fire in her eyes that suggests she’s a warrior at heart. She has a likeability, a sense of calm and control that makes you feel like you need