Cry Wolf (24 page)

Then Abraham’s eyes were on her, and he paused as though she’d caught him short. He was completely shut off to her, inscrutable. The pause, however, was its own small revelation—she was not what he’d expected to see.

It was only a few seconds, the same few seconds that he gave to everyone else and maybe a few more. But it was seconds of silence.

He resumed his message before anyone turned around to see what had captivated him the way he captivated them.

“Now,” he said, gliding to the other side of the stage and offering a disarming smile to the left side of the room, “everything I have said is no different than that of any other man who says he has the truth. But I don’t ask you for your faith. I don’t give you a book to read or pamphlets with simplistic FAQs. I have promised you real magic. I have promised that you, too, can achieve that magic through Salvation and the cleansing that I offer. How can I convince you of the truth if I show you nothing in return?

“I am no magician,” Abraham announced. “I haven’t studied the arts of deception and redirection. I can no more throw my voice than I can speak Japanese. You’ve see women sawn in half and tangled metal rings pulled apart without breaking before, and know them for the tricks they are. I have no scarves, no wands, no puffs of smoke, no flashy movements of my fingers, no lovely assistant.”

He held up his palms. Everyone in the audience unconsciously leaned in.

“If I think I can impress you with doves and rabbits, I am sorely mistaken. I have to create something that no one would ever believe in a photograph or a video, but you will have no choice but to believe,” Abraham said softly.

Kelly swore that his eyes darted to her before he closed them.

At first, nothing was different. Then his palms began to glow bluish-white until he held two small globes of light in his hand. When Abraham opened his eyes again, the light balls lifted, hovering over his palms. Kelly couldn’t think of any way that it could be faked, but then again, magicians were clever.

Abraham knew this as well. He sent the lights into the crowd, where they flitted about like pixies, glowing with opalescence over wondering faces. One of them dipped in front of Kelly and Malcolm like a nod before swirling back to Abraham’s hands. He did not close them to slip whatever they might be into his sleeves or between his fingers. They faded right there in plain sight.

“And if that is not enough proof for you, feast your senses on this next wonder,” Abraham said. He slowly lifted his palms up once more as though picking up a table.

Everyone in the room rose two feet from their chairs, including Kelly.

The Father couldn’t fake that. Kelly had done it to herself and to other things often enough to recognise the magic. Everyone else in the tent exclaimed in amazement, swinging their legs and peering underneath themselves, but Kelly quickly released herself from Abraham’s hold and dropped back to her chair. As she steadied herself, she discovered that her hands were shaking.

“I do not ask you to trust that I have even greater power, power that you have within you as well. I only ask that you accept this small display as a sample of what more I can show you over time,” Abraham said, lowering everyone else back to their seat.

Kelly sensed his gaze on her, although she kept her head down. He knew that she had broken free of his spell.

“Quiet,” he said over the excited murmurs in the audience. They obeyed, returning rapt attention to the sorcerer on the platform.

“Salvation members are here to answer your questions for the rest of the evening if I do not have the opportunity to speak with you tonight. Cleansing rituals begin tomorrow at noon. Salvation offers lodgings at a facility farther down the road for those who wish to stay and learn from me. Tonight, when you rest your heads on your pillows, remember this—you have magic within you. You have light, hidden or darkened. Find that light and you will know the truth. Goodnight.”

With that, he swept out of the back entrance, and Tim and Peter climbed onto the platform in his place. Peter strummed his guitar once again.

“Father Abraham is waiting outside now. He will take some requests and hear your concerns. We ask you to line up in an orderly fashion,” Tim instructed. “He can’t see you all in one night, but the cleansing begins tomorrow, and you can see him again then. He can also answer your questions individually at that point as well. However, Father Abraham wants to make himself available for you if you need him, at least until he takes his dinner and rest. As you can imagine, the magic he employs takes a lot out of him. We hope you hold that in consideration. There’s a dessert table outside, and we encourage you to mingle with each other. Thank you and goodnight.”

Kelly grabbed Malcolm’s arm and dragged him out of the tent, heedless of what their inhuman speed might look like to the human beings in the audience.

“Wow. I thought
I
was the one who wanted to see him,” Malcolm said with a small grin. Then he saw her expression. “What’s wrong? Still have your bad feeling? He didn’t seem all that terrible to me. A little too enthusiastic about how all non-human magical creatures are evil, but he sounds sincere about lifting the curses.”

“It’s not that,” Kelly said. She rubbed her hands over her arms, shivering. “God, I’m so cold.”

Malcolm pulled her against him and held her there while the rest of the audience filed out. They all talked excitedly to each other, some in awe, some a little nervous, but none with the frigid terror inching icily through her veins.

“I thought we don’t get cold,” Malcolm said into her hair.

“We don’t,” Kelly replied. She waited until the rigidity along her spine from the shivering had released. The chill gradually melted, pooling at her feet.

“Was that real magic?” Malcolm asked when she stepped away from him.

Most of the crowd flocked to the dessert table or to the line forming before the man himself. Kelly went in the other direction, and Malcolm followed.

“I mean, it was pretty spectacular, but I suppose it could still have been faked—illusions are getting more amazing all the time, right?”

She sat down on a place where the hill incline was a little steeper.

“It was real,” Kelly said. She wrapped her arms around her shins and put her chin in the valley between her knees.

“Okay, I’m really finding it hard to be excited when you’re so shaken,” Malcolm said. “I’ve never seen you like this, Kelly.”

“It’s been a long time,” Kelly said. “I never needed to be like this in the sanctuary, nor in any werewolf pack.”

“I don’t understand,” Malcolm said. He stroked down the length of her braid and rubbed her back.

“It doesn’t matter if someone comes along with an automatic rifle or if they’re the biggest, nastiest werewolf in the country or anything like that. I can handle those things. They don’t scare me. I’ve visited most of the covens in the area. I’ve met other witches. They don’t scare me either. But none of them are ever really like me. Their magic works differently, and they don’t like my kind.”

“Werewolves, you mean?”

“No, my kind of magic,” Kelly said. “
His
kind of magic.”

Malcolm laughed nervously. “I still don’t understand.”

“What he showed in there, Malcolm, those were parlour tricks. They were barely a fraction of what he is capable of,” Kelly said.

“Isn’t that the same thing with you, though?” Malcolm asked.

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Kelly said.

Malcolm was silent, but the silence was thick with his contemplation, as methodical and intent as a watch ticking away the seconds. “So that’s it, isn’t it? That thing you keep to yourself, it isn’t that you’re afraid of the beast inside of you. You’re afraid of
yourself
, and because you’re afraid of yourself, you’re afraid of him.”

Kelly peered down the dark highway. There were only two cars travelling it at that moment. It was late, but not that late, which showed how out of the way they were.

“You don’t have to be afraid of yourself,” Malcolm said.

“You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” Kelly snapped.

“I’ve never met anyone more in control. I mean, except for that prophecy thing, but that doesn’t seem to be dangerous.”

“It’s you that
you
don’t have to be afraid of,” Kelly said, her gaze fierce as she turned back to him. “You’re here for all the wrong reasons. Sanity and control comes with time, time you’re not willing to give to it because you think everything can just go back the way it was. Well, guess what, Malcolm, even if he does change you back, it will never be like it was. That’s not the way people work. That’s not how time works. We never get to repeat what was. We can only determine what will be.
You
don’t have to be afraid.”

Her eyes glowed emerald. Malcolm’s face was bathed in it.

“But make no mistake, wolf,” Kelly said to a somewhat stunned Malcolm, “there is reason to fear me. And even more reason to fear Father Abraham. I hold myself back and relegate myself to those parlour tricks. I know you don’t understand, because you haven’t really seen what my magic is when it’s more than just the little things I do. It’s been a long time since I have either, because I know better than to let that much of it out. That’s why I
need
the werewolf.”

“He seems to have it under control,” Malcolm said.

“Seems. Which makes me wonder how much he’s letting out in order to keep it in check,” Kelly said. “My magic threatened to spill out of me more and more from adolescence onward, and it only got worse with age. It made my life a living hell. He’s got to be in his forties or early fifties. What do you think the price is for his control?”

“Maybe he’s not as powerful as you,” Malcolm said.

“Pray that’s the case,” Kelly said. “Pray, if you think it will save you.”

“You’re mad at me.”

“Yes. For thinking there’s something wrong with you when there isn’t.”

“But he’s right, Kelly,” Malcolm replied. “I feel it. I feel that it’s wrong that this is what I am.”

“You think he’ll let you go back to being a shapeshifter? You think he believes that’s okay when he’s got something against every other magical creature in nature?” Kelly said with a humourless laugh. “All you’ve been thinking about so far is you, you, you. But if you think something’s wrong with you, then you think there’s something wrong with me. God knows Abraham does. I don’t want to be where I’m not wanted. And I don’t want to be with someone who doesn’t want me.”

Kelly felt quite deserving of the fury that heated away the icicles within her. The ground beneath her feet trembled as she stood and started towards the trailer. If Malcolm decided to stay, then he could damn well thumb his way back to the sanctuary when he was cleansed and fully saved by Salvation. She’d had enough of these self-fashioned messiahs. If this one actually happened to have a lot of power in his punch, all the more reason to run, regardless of his seeming sincerity and his undeniable charisma, since the latter called the former into question.

“Hey, blonde girl!”

She whirled around. Her braid whipped with her, curling around her shoulder. Ahmir, the bodyguard, jogged after her.

“What?” she asked waspishly.

Ahmir recoiled at her reply. She swallowed back her anger. He didn’t need her taking out her frustrations on him. He seemed like a nice enough guy.

“What?” she repeated in a more even tone.

“Sorry. I just wanted to catch you before you left,” Ahmir said.

“Why?” Malcolm asked, coming up behind Ahmir.

Kelly flicked her fingers near her hip. Malcolm clapped his hand to his ear where the invisible whip had snapped over it. He had absolutely no right to be jealous.

If Ahmir found Malcolm’s behaviour unusual, he gave no indication.

“The Father wants to invite you and your companion to his quarters at the house,” Ahmir said.

“Excuse me?”

“You and your friend. He wants you to meet with him,” Ahmir replied, pointing to the large colonial farmhouse at the top of the hill.

This time, it was Kelly who asked, “Why?”

Ahmir shrugged. “He just tells me who he wants.”

He started to jog back, but Kelly called, “Ahmir, does he do that often?”

“Not often. Occasionally,” Ahmir said. “Even with our kind.”

“Why do you work for him?” Malcolm asked. His nostrils flared at the man’s scent. “As a werewolf, I mean. Why work for him as a werewolf if he can make it go away?”

“I believe in the cause,” Ahmir said, soft-spoken but dead serious. “But I’m not ready. I’m a coward. Father Abraham is patient. He’ll cleanse me when the time comes. In the meantime, I offered my services and he accepted them. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go back to him. You can go on up to the house. He’ll meet you in the foyer.”

He ran back up the hill to where the crowd around Father Abraham showed no sign of thinning.

“You going to go?” Malcolm asked.

“Are you?”

“If you are,” Malcolm replied. “You’re the one he really wants to see. I’m just the companion.”

Kelly stared intently at the crowd as though she could see through it to Abraham. She narrowed her eyes. Then she
could
see him, smiling in an endearing, crooked way, warmly engaging his admirers without the distance of the stage.

“
What are you playing at?
” Kelly thought.
“What do you want from me?
”

Abraham looked straight at her through all the people between them. His easy smile didn’t falter. However, it no longer reached the creases at the corner of his eyes. His expression wasn’t hard but solemn.

“
I just want to speak with you. You have nothing to fear. Please.
”

Kelly jerked back, pulling her vision behind the crowd again. It was unnerving to reach out with her magic and have someone else reach back and touch it.

“Kelly?” Malcolm stood there like a kicked puppy.

She sighed.

“I don’t know,” she said, her fingers denting her lips as she considered.

Her feet made her decision for her. It was only when Malcolm ran up the hill to catch up with her that she realised he’d been calling her name and she hadn’t heard him. Now she recognised the dazed compulsion for what it was. She wrested herself away from it, although the desire to do as Abraham had requested didn’t leave her entirely.