56 | SOMBER SKIES

I cry myself dry, being held by my mom, as the inevitable - and much-sooner-that-I’d-expected reality of her situation threatens to rip me into oblivion. At times it feels like Mom’s arms are the only things holding me together while my emotions flare and spin out of control with my tears. All the while, Hale and the witch talk in soft voices, the sounds of glass bottles clinking and scents of spices managing to remind me just how real all this is.

I thought I’d have forever with my mom. *Who wants to think about the mortality of their parent?* She’s always been my rock, my pillar of strength that’s gotten me through the constant fear and change over the last seven years. She taught me to hunt, to fend for myself in the most unstable time of my life. She’s been my reason for living, my safety net if I ever find myself adrift or in trouble. I’ve relied on her so much over the years and now- and *now*-

“Wisty,” Mom’s voice draws me from my thoughts. Her cool fingers are stroking my hair, their unusual chill seeping into my crown and reminding me how fragile she is. I look up at her, my head just under hers - the vantage point making my memories as a child flare in the back of my mind. Her crystalline-blue eyes the same as always: calm and calculating, the underlying warmth and affection making the soft blue seem as endless as the sky and just as immovable. “I’m not dead yet,” She tells me calmly, her matter-of-fact tone firm though her voice itself is a little airy. “I need you to be strong.”

*I need you to be strong*. That’s what she told me when I gave up on living the first time. Back then, just after I’d killed a human and Hale had unsuccessfully tried to wipe my mind of the incident, I’d felt almost as hopeless and adrift as I do now. Almost.

As I look in my Mom’s eyes, I can see that she knows things are much different now. I’m not alone, for one thing. Not only have I reunited with my biological father, but I’ve made amends with my old Pack. On top of that, I’ve made friends here in Kiwina. There are people like Darine and Yuri. I’ve found my mate, Blue, though we’re far from a perfect couple, I know he’s someone I can rely on and trust. I’m not alone.

“I love you.” I tell her, frowning at how oddly strong I feel for having realized I’m not as empty-feeling as I should be. The strength of knowing my world will keep spinning, even after Mom is gone, is carefully binding the crack in my world and holding me together.

“I love you, too, Wisty.” Mom’s face relaces a bit, the tension I hadn’t noticed before - easing from her body and making her bony frame more malleable against mine. She pulls me in for one last, slightly tighter hug, before releasing me and sagging against her pillows. “But I’m not dead yet,” She warns with a little humor in her wry tone. She points a finger at me and raises and eyebrow as she speaks, making me feel like she’s scolding me. “And I expect you to at least finish high school, young lady.” I laugh at her words, the way such a mundane thing as completing high school sounds.

“I promise.” I agree with her, sitting up and looking down at her solemnly as a more serious thought flares through my imagination. Flickers of a future I never knew I wanted flutter through my head: Mom and Hale walking me down the aisle, Mom with me when I give the news that I’m pregnant, Mom holding my first child, Mom helping teach my pups to hunt and fight. Things I hadn’t even thought of until now, all of it like the whisper of a promise, dreams long ago dreamt and forgotten, coming to the surface now that a key part is about to go missing.

“Hey,” Mom’s cool fingers on my cheek draw me back to the present - my eyes swimming with unshed tears. “I’m not dead yet,” She reminds me again and I feel a weak smile twist at my mouth as I let out a sigh, dragging my knuckles over my eyes and dispersing some of the liquid there.

“I don’t know if I can get married just yet.” I huff under my breath and she blinks at me in surprise. “And I’m not ready to have pups.” I add in a softer mutter - more to myself than aloud, but Mom’s close enough to hear me clearly.

“Who said anything about-?” Mom begins with a confused expression.

“Not important,” I interrupt her, waving a hand and feeling a little color rise in my face. “I was just…thinking- imagining…” I amend with a sheepish grimace. Mom nods slowly, her eyes going a little distant as she seems to follow my line of thought.

“It would have been *nice* to have grandbabies…” She sighs and looks at me thoughtfully. “You sure you won’t be having pups anytime soon?” I can tell she’s joking by the ways her pout is twitching at the corners - like she’s trying hard to fight a smile. And by the dancing of mirth in her eyes. I laugh, trying to hide some of the heat now washing over my face at the very thought.

“She’s not even and adult by human standards, Ris, give her a break.” Hale tells Mom, interrupting the conversation with a scowl.

“But she will be eighteen in a month.” Mom crows back with a teasing grin. Hale says nothing, his lips thinning as he narrows his eyes at Mom, very pointedly not looking at me.

“Well, it looks like I should let you rest a bit.” I tell Mom, feeling like the two are about to go off on parenting strategies and the ways of Wolven versus vampire. I really don’t want to be here if they start up on a lecture over ‘the birds and the bees’. Mom gave that information to me a long time ago! I don’t need another ‘talk’, thank you very much! I sigh again and stand, looking around for the witch.

Without the slight warmth of Mom’s body, I feel some of the chill returning to my bones. The light mood of only moments ago slowly draining out of me as reality settles back in. Mom’s dying. And no amount of Magic or luck will change that. The witch is hovering by the wall closest to the door, watching us all with a soft smile of commiseration. I walk over to her while Mom and Hale continue talking behind me.

And as I do, something else clicks in the back of my mind.

“You’re the one who made the necklace for me, right?” I ask the witch while Hale talks softly to Mom. I have my arms wrapped around myself, glancing at the drawer where I’d last placed the enchanted thing in. Now that Mom’s stable, I feel my normal curiosity beginning to spike.

“I am.” Mari nods with a soft smile, tilting her head at me. “You should be wearing it, *mija*.” Her soft, worn voice soothes some of the leftover terror rolling through me.

“It’s kind of hard to remember to.” I tell her, feeling a little sheepish that I haven’t worn or really thought about the thing that’s supposed to be helping me stay in control in a month. Though I’ve been coping relatively well, I know it would probably make all this easier if I were actively wearing it.

“Why don’t I take a look at it?” The witch asks me kindly. I nod, about to move to get the piece of magical jewelry when Mari flicks her wrist and the silver chain with the blue-green gem is suddenly dangling from her fingers. She examines the thing while I gape at her. *I don’t think I’ll ever get used to Magic*. “Hm.” She taps the crystal until it starts to pulse with light. “How strange…” The witch mutters a few words in Spanish so low I almost don’t hear them. “Well, it looks like the charm’s no longer active. It would seem you drained it.” Mari tells me with a look of wonder in her eyes as she searches my face. “May I?” She holds a hand out to me and I automatically place my hand over hers.

The witch gives me a gentle smile and covers my hand with her other one, still holding onto the necklace, the stone resting between us. I shiver as the thing flashes from icy to hot and back. Mari’s eyes flutter shut and she mutters wordlessly, her eyebrows furrowing until thin beams of light peak from the spaces between her hands, the glowing dimming only once she opens her eyes. I fight back the urge to rip my hands from her as I catch sight of her once-violet grey eyes burning a fiery red.

“Easy, *mija*.” She tells me, blinking as the light fades and her eyes go back to violet-grey. “It’s just a little Magic.” She winks at me and raises her hands to settle the loop of silvery metal over my head. “That should hold for a few months.” She sighs, nodding down to the gem hanging between my breasts. The thing’s warm, the heat it used to offer me that kept most of the cold away slowly leaking into my body through my clothes.

And with it, I can feel the power of my emotions sweep through me again, this time much stronger than before. My body reacts to the weight of it all, shoulders hunching, spine bowing, bones aching. Anger and sorrow, terror and relief - everything that had been suppressed lately just bursts through me in a split second. A tiny groan escapes my mouth as the crushing feel of the powerful emotions sweep over me, the most potent being sorrow and fear. Not for myself, but Mom and what this all means for her - for us.

I swallow hard as her soft voice filters through the mess in my head and darkens the chasm of loss in my chest. My eyes are drawn to her frail form on the bed, Hale back in the spot I had previously occupied and smiling warmly in that way where the warmth doesn’t reach his eyes. I watch them, feeling like a third wheel for the first time since the three of us had been reunited. There seems to be a little bubble of happiness around them, a glow of contentment and peace. Like there’s nothing either would rather be doing than talking to each other and being in one another’s company.

“Why don’t I walk you out?” I ask the witch suddenly, wanting nothing more than to leave Mom and Hale so that bubble won’t pop. The witch, Mari, smiles gently at me, her violet-grey eyes soften as she nods. “Mom, Hale, I’m heading out.” I call to them, waving before leaving the room with the witch. On the counter in the kitchen is an array of freshly made potions, the scent of ginger and magic thick enough in the air to almost make me gag as I dash past.

“I’ve got it from here, *mija*.” Mari tells me once I’ve shuffled us both out of the house and closed the front door behind us. By now the morning sunlight has passed and it seems to be mid-afternoon. Somewhere in the back of my head, I know I should be at school, studying with the others, but with how I’m feeling - more fragile than a live grenade - I don’t think that’s a good idea. “I’ll be traveling through a portal from here.”

Before I can ask what that means, the witch spreads her arms to the side and a real, yawning void opens in the air in front of us. The scents of mesquite trees and sweltering humidity spew from the warped space, though nothing’s visible to me but a black so vast I’m almost sure it’s a real black hole. The scent of magic makes my nose wrinkle as the witch drops her hands and turns to me with a gentle smile. She’s the picture of what I imagine a normal grandmother would be like. One who isn’t psychotic or homicidal.

“I’ll be back in a few months to check on your *mamá*, okay?” Mari seems to want some sort of agreement to her words so I nod, still a little dazed at seeing Magic being performed a few inches from my face. “*Portarse bien,*” She reaches up to gently pat my cheek, telling me to ‘behave’ just like I thought normal, sweet grandmothers would. I give her a wry grin, not sure how much she knows about my current situation or the odds I’m facing with the end of the world hanging over my head. “*Adiós, mija.*” She tells me before turning and disappearing into the void just large enough to swallow her hunched body whole. The second the witch has gone through, the void- *portal* - shimmers out of existence, leaving nothing behind but the faint scent of ozone and Magic.