Given (17 page)

When he walked into the room, his feet squished in a rug that was saturated like a sponge. He knew she wasn't in there, but he had to make sure that she hadn't been left behind, hurt or even dead. As he searched the room, a sense of calm descended over him, enabling him to form coherent thoughts for the first time since he had realized he was paralyzed. He could focus on what he needed to do in that moment, rather than descend into the hell of thinking about what the Thakathi could be doing to Mary Katherine.

If he dwelled on that, he would Become and slaughter everyone in sight, and she would
still
be in the hands of his enemy, the enemy of Eshu everywhere. First he would get his father and brother. Then he would have his revenge, and when he was done, the Thakathi would regret they'd even considered crossing the big ocean to this continent.

* * *

Jacob tore up the stairs to the living quarters above his father's shop. When he reached the second floor, he ran down the hall banging on his brother's and sister's doors. When he reached his father's room at the end of the hall, he flung the door open. Caleb Adams sprang from the bed.

“What on earth is going on, Son? Is that blood?”

Jacob looked down at his hands and then his bare feet, caked in blood. His hands were streaked with it, though he didn't recall touching anything in Mary Katherine's room.

“They've got her.” He heard Grace's gasp. She and Matthew had entered the room, but Jacob didn't turn around to look.

“The Thakathi?”
Caleb asked in a tone that indicated he knew the answer.

“Yes! Yes!” Jacob yelled as the calm that had descended so mercifully in Mary Katherine's room slipped away. “Of course it's the Thakathi. We've got to get her back. While we're standing here, they could be doing anything to her.”

His father grabbed his shoulders. “Wait a minute, Son. First we're going to get dressed; then we're going to go downstairs and eat some breakfast.” He gave Grace a pointed look, and she rushed out of the room. “While we're having breakfast, you're going to tell me what happened.”

Jacob tried to pull away from his father's surprisingly strong grasp. Despite the disparity in their size, he couldn't do it. “Let me go. I've got to get to her.”

“Jacob, you know as well as I do that if the Thakathi wanted her dead, she'd already be dead. Think, man. Think. They're feeding off your pain, getting more powerful because they can hurt you. They'll keep her alive because it hurts you more.”

“But all that blood,” Jacob said, shuddering as he remembered the scene in Mary Katherine's room.

“Almost certainly an illusion.
They are witches. They can fool your eyes into seeing that which is not there. I'm thinking they want to kill her in front of us to feed from our pain. You go on downstairs.” He glanced at his younger son. “Matthew, do you have boots that will fit him? We'll most likely Become, but Jacob still needs shoes. Let's get dressed and have a hot meal. We'll all function better when we've had something to eat and a cup of coffee.”

Jacob nodded. The calm had returned, and he was better able to understand his father's advice. He turned to follow his brother out of the room.

Thankfully he didn't see the look of stark terror that crossed his father's face when he left the room.

* * *

Mary Katherine came to, struggling to breathe, as she was facedown on a dusty wooden floor. For a moment she lay there, dazed, as she tried to understand what had happened to her. She had no idea how she'd come to be here, but because she was still in her nightgown, she had to assume she'd been taken from her bed. Her head ached abominably, and her mouth felt as though she'd licked a barn floor. She reached up to touch her tender head, and that was when she realized that her arms were tied behind her. She struggled to sit up, afraid that she'd smother if she didn't get her face out of all that dust. Once she'd managed to gain a seated position, she looked around the room.

It was large, with a pitched ceiling, like a barn or shed. It took her a moment to realize that the shrieks and cries of animals—not to mention the horrid stench of blood and sewage—that wafted up from the first floor meant that this was probably a slaughterhouse. A slaughterhouse? But there was no slaughterhouse in Gist Settlement. The nearest one was in Hillsboro. Why would anyone bring her to a slaughterhouse?

Clearly she hadn't been captured by slave catchers, and if it wasn't slave catchers, who was it? She shifted her shoulders, which had grown sore from the awkward position her arms were in. She looked around the room to try to find a weapon or some means of escape. The walls, like the floor, were made up of rough wooden panels. All the windows were at least six feet above floor level, and because there wasn't a single piece of furniture in the room, the windows didn't seem like a viable escape route. Besides, what could she do with her hands tied behind her this way?

Wanting to explore the room further, she struggled to stand up. There was a door in one wall and another in the wall opposite. She made her way over to the first door. Turning around, with her back to the door, she tried the knob, fully expecting it to be locked. It turned easily in her hand, and she caught her breath in excitement—only to have her hopes dashed when she realized it opened into a closet or storeroom. Her disappointment was short-lived, though, as she walked over to a counter that ran the length of the small room. At one end of the counter sat a large wooden box, and the box was filled with knives. Of course. Where there was slaughter, there had to be knives. The large grinding wheel at the end of the counter explained what they were doing there. Apparently this was where the workers honed their blades.

Mary Katherine paused for a moment. Even if she got away, where would she go in her nightgown? She didn't know anyone in Hillsboro. Where would she go? Yet with all the odd things going on with the line lately, it didn't make sense to wait. Even if she only got her hands free, she would be in a better position to escape or fight. Besides, Jacob would be coming for her—at least she hoped so. God, she'd been such an idiot. The man loved her, and she loved him too. Her stomach jumped nervously as she finally admitted it to herself. She had to escape so she could tell him and make him understand that she'd never seen—
would
never see—him as an animal.

She looked down at the knives again, then turned her back to pick one out. Holding the knife carefully by the large handle, she knelt on the floor, leaning against the counter for balance. When she was sure of her footing in that position, she leaned back until she could grasp the handle of the knife between her feet. She slipped the blade between her bound wrists and, with a sawing motion, began cutting through the rope. The knife slipped several times, and she had more than a few cuts, but she managed not to drop it, and before long, she was free. Mary Katherine leaned against the counter for a long moment, her body limp with relief.

Her arms cramped uncomfortably, and she shook them out, trying to ease the pain. Finally she rose to her feet. The sense of urgency that warned her to get out of the room grew stronger. She walked across to the other door, only to find it wasn't locked either. She stopped again. Whoever had kidnapped her had been extremely careless. They hadn't gagged her, though that was understandable; with the unrelenting din from the animals, no one was likely to hear her. But they hadn't even bothered to lock the door? What if it was some type of trap? Leaning against the door, she went over her options. None of them were very good, but trying to escape had greater appeal than waiting to see what happened. Taking a deep breath, she turned the knob slowly.

* * *

The Adams men lurked in the forest near the slaughterhouse. Of course Grace had wanted to come along, but their father had threatened to lock her in her room if she even tried to follow them. Trailing the Thakathi had been easy, but then, they wanted to be followed. The sounds of the animals had finally dwindled as the workday ended. The Thakathi were naturally drawn to places of suffering; witches and pain went together like bourbon and branch water. Even if they hadn't been able to track them by smell, it would have been fairly easy to find them simply by looking for places where living creatures suffered. Jacob gritted his teeth, impatient with the long wait for darkness to cover their attack.

“Matthew, you'll fly in to reconnoiter the area. You might be able to do so undetected since the workers have gone home. We need to know how many there are and, most importantly, where they're keeping Mary Katherine,” Caleb said in a soft voice.

“No matter what, we have to get her out first,” Jacob said.

Caleb agreed. “Of course, the last thing we want to do is reveal ourselves while they still have her in their power. You're not to attack. Just gather information. Her life depends on it,” he told his impulsive son. “No killing.”

“At least not yet,” Jacob added grimly.

The men lingered in the woods, watching the slaughterhouse as twilight descended. The building was silent, as the few animals that hadn't been slaughtered that day had been herded back to holding pens nearby, and the workers had left for the night. Jacob was scanning the horizon, eager for the action to begin, when he saw a flash of white behind the building. For a moment he thought it was an escaped animal, but in the next moment he recognized Mary Katherine's distinctive shape. He ran after her in a zigzag pattern, keeping his body low as he ran from shadow to shadow. He heard his father call out after him. Then apparently Caleb recognized her as well, because he and Matthew began running too.

When Jacob finally caught her, he wrapped one arm around her waist and lifted her off the ground as he continued running until he reached the tree line. Without hesitation, he grasped her tightly to him and took her mouth with desperate ferocity. Mary Katherine clung to him as though she would never let him go. The kiss lingered, until finally Caleb cleared his throat.

Jacob raised his head, but he didn't lower Mary Katherine to the ground. He looked down at her. “How did you get away?

Mary Katherine explained her escape and how she'd slipped out of the building when the shift ended.

“They didn't even put a guard on you?” Jacob frowned a question at his father.

Caleb shrugged. “She's human, and she was bespelled. They probably thought it was enough.”

Jacob looked at his brother. “Will you take her back to town?”

Mary Katherine protested. “But I want to be here.”

“If they capture you again,” Caleb said softly, “they can use you as a weapon against us. That was their original plan, and it would be effective, as our suffering would power their spells.”

Mary Katherine's lip curled in disgust. “Who are they? The Thakathi you mentioned before, like those men who came into my store?”

Caleb nodded. “They followed us from the old country.”

Mary Katherine kissed Jacob again. “I realized something when I was in that room. I was a fool for sulking over something you can't help.”

“I should have told you.”

“Yes, you should have, but it's time to move on. I love you,” she said softly, her eyes raised to his.

Jacob's breath hissed through his teeth in response to her words. “I have loved you from the first moment I saw you. I'm so sorry I can't give you babies.”

Mary Katherine smiled. “Who knows? As often as we have relations, we might have one after all.”

“I'll do my best,” Jacob said with a smile.

This time the kiss they shared was soft and tender. When it finally ended, Jacob slowly lowered Mary Katherine to the ground. He looked around, surprised to see that his father and brother had moved away to give them privacy. He placed another tender kiss on her nose, then walked over to join his father. He quietly slipped out of his clothes. As she watched, his body gradually took on a bear's massive shape. Watching now, when she wasn't nearly frightened out of her wits, she could see the beauty and magic of what he was.