Chapter 40: The Train

The train is the perfect choice, at least. And Sage surprises me in how easily and courageously he boards the slow-moving boxcar. We luck out. The section of track near the border is curved and steep, offering an excellent opportunity for us to board safely. When I grin at him from the dark of the boxcar after a daring leap, he grins back.

"Not my first time traveling," he says.

We settle among piles of boxes on the steel floor, a large sheet of discarded cardboard our only cushion, but enough to keep the chill of the metal from seeping through and into us. I position myself with a clear view of the partially open door, eyes locked on the horizon rolling past. Sage rummages through the bag Iosif gave him, snuffling at the foil-wrapped bundle he pulls free before his eyes light up.

He manages to control his hunger long enough to offer me some of his roast beef sandwich, the bread thick and homemade, fresh cut from the smell, but I wave him off, amused by the relief in his smile as he devours his meal. I'm certain another sandwich hides in my own bag, but I'll save it for later. I'm far too tense to enjoy food right now and Sage might need it later.

Sage finally slips back, resting his shoulders against a box, pressed against me, sighing softly as he brushes crumbs from his jacket. "Man, I've never been so starved."

I don't comment, though worry pings. Young werewolves are often voracious eaters. I then have to remind myself he's not a werewolf at all, but a human turning revenant. That just adds to my anxiety.

I hardly needed the reminder.

Sage's hand slips around mine, fingers warm through the leather of my glove despite the cool evening. I slip my fingers free so I can touch his skin, heart aching for him as I suddenly realize my family and my problems aren't the only consideration.

"I'm sorry," I whisper into the dark, the rattling of the train almost swallowing my words. But his ear is very close to my lips and he turns to face me, a little frown on his brow.

"I am, too," he says. "I've ruined your life."

I squeeze his hand, leaning my head on his shoulder. "Your parents," I say. "I've been so focused on getting us to California, I forgot you have family."

Sage stiffens, clears his throat. "I don't know what I'd tell them," he says, voice thick. "I guess I should try to call them or something." His thumb traces circles over the back of my hand. "I've thought about it, but I don't know what to say." His free hand runs through his dark hair. "They're used to me rambling around, but this? 'Hi, Mom, Dad, I'm turning into a supernatural creature and could be executed for it?' How do I explain this when I don't truly understand it myself?" Sage's lips brush my forehead. "At least they will still have Zach and Peach." Sage's twin siblings, a boy and girl, half his age. I wish now I'd had a chance to meet his family. He'd offered, several times, but I resisted, knowing we couldn't be. Would it have made things easier for me, if I'd gotten to know them? Or harder?

It doesn't matter now, either way. And this conversation isn't about me, anyway.

"If something happens to me," Sage says.

"You're going to be fine." The words snap out of me, growled in the voice of a wolf.

Sage doesn't say anything for a moment before his body rises and falls in a sigh. "Just, please, tell them something. Make up a story, an accident, something. Don't leave them wondering if I'm alive or dead."

Tears sting my eyes, my mouth tight as I fight off the quiver in my lower lip. "I promise." I won't have to fulfill that promise, so it's easy to make. "Tell me about them?"

He seems surprised. I've never asked before, and, in fact, I've shut him down in the past when he's tried to share. Sage doesn't need further encouragement. I close my eyes and picture his family as he tells me stories about family adventures, like the year they spent in Guatemala volunteering and building schools, his mother's first skydive, his father's passion for snowboarding. They are an incredible family, I can tell from every word he speaks, and his love of them washes over me as I absorb Sage's memories.

"You've been away from them for a long time." I can't remember the last time he went home to visit, though it's possible he didn't tell me because he stopped asking me to join him.

"A year," he says. "I meant to go home for Christmas. Hoped to talk you into coming this time." He laughs, without bitterness. "I guess that's not going to happen, is it?"

I don't comment. I can't. There's nothing to say. I'm silent so long Sage drifts into sleep, breathing regular against my forehead, heartbeat slow and deep. I can't find my own calm, awake with my mind turning for hours, though I'm grateful he manages to get some rest.

I've treated Sage like a toy, at times, a secret love I told no one about. And though I've known all along he has his own feelings, hurts, desires, passions, I've ignored them in favor of my little fantasy. But this is a real life, his is an existence outside my personal experience. And now he's at risk, his whole world, the people who love him about to lose him.

I've been so selfish. As much as I want Sage to be cured, I can't put my desires first. I must find a way to save him and return him to his family, even if that means we are truly done forever.

I wince inwardly. When I chose to let him go before, it was a girl's vanity and pride that drove me. This time, if I get the chance to release him, I will do so out of love, not the call of duty or petulance about my future. I will make sure Sage is safe and happy, without me.

***

WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?

I almost leap out of my skin at the shout in my head. I must have dozed off after all, weakening my shields. My heart pounds painfully as I gasp a breath and shove Syd back.

Please, I send as I wall her off, stay out of this.

Charlotte. Her words worm their way into my head. Stubborn, bull-headed, frustrating weregirl! Damn it, let me help you.

I won't have you put the family in danger for me, I send back, firmly closing the gap. I won't, Syd. And neither would you in my place.

She fights me, but I win at last as Sage sits up, eyes wild, but human.

"What's wrong?" He's reaching for his pack while I climb to my feet and take my own, slipping the straps over my shoulders and pulling them tight. The rumbling of the boxcar we're using for transportation makes it hard to hear him, even for my sharp wolf-assisted ears. I head for the partially open door, looking out into the dark. It's been a long night. We've crossed the country once again, it seems, heading for Luhansk far to the east to lay false trail. But now that Syd has found me, we have to disembark and find another route. I wouldn't put it past her to come looking for me and I just can't have that.

I look out into the very late night and hear, to my relief, the engine ahead begins to gear down, the rattling slowing as the train reduces speed. "We must be coming up to a station," I say.

"Luck is with us," Sage says, tightening up the straps on his own bag. He winces as the left strap cuts into his shoulder, but never complains.

"It is," I say. "May it continue so." I feel Syd prod my mind, but she misses more than she hits. Our movement is making it hard for her to pinpoint me. Which means we need to catch another train, hopefully toward the border. Doing so should shake her off.

"There's a town." Sage leans far out, one hand holding the door. "Not far. We should jump before the train stops."

I nod. "Ready."

We wait another minute until the train is barely moving before we leap out into the brush at the side of the tracks. I crouch there, watching the cars pass, waiting for signs we've been spotted, but nothing happens. Sage is grinning again and I wish he wouldn't. Because I smile back, as though this is fun somehow and not life and death. His life and death.

I lead the way once the train is past, over the metal rails, skirting the back end of the train yard and through a thin copse of trees. A roadway sits on the other side, past a deep ditch filled with brush. My hands reach for Sage as we slip down into it, helping him climb the other side.

He is sweating and cursing softly under his breath when we reach the top. "Sorry," he says through gritted teeth. "I'm holding us back."

He is. But he's the reason we're running, so I won't begrudge him the time it takes. "You're injured," I say, as gently as I can as we shake off the clinging bits of twigs and leaves we brought up with us. "We'll manage."

"I'm just not used to being weak." He bounces his pack on his back, wincing. "This is so frustrating, Charlotte."

My fingers trace the line of his jaw, compassion tightening my throat. "I know," I say. "I'm sorry, Sage. I wish this hadn't happened to you."

He grasps my hand in his, green eyes intense. "On the other hand," he says, "this is the most time we've spent together ever. And I'm turning into a werewolf. Kind of. Which means maybe we don't have to be over." I just stare at him. He has no idea, even now. I thought he understood. This changes nothing between us. But he looks so determined, do I dare shatter his hope?

I choose not to, turning instead on the road, looking into town. Sage hesitates beside me, but I shrug. "We need food," I say.

His eyes light up. "Starving," he says.

The town is small, but not tiny, big enough to lose ourselves for a few hours. A beat-up hostel sign draws me in and we rent a space in the ancient house. The young man at the desk seems upset to be disturbed at such a late hour, but he grumpily hands us keys anyway before going back to his nap.

Luck again. We don't have to share a room with anyone else, able to take one on our own. But when I try to leave Sage in the tiny space, he resists me.

"I can move around easier on my own," I say. "And you need rest." I point at his shoulder. He's rubbing it absently. As though just noticing, he drops his hand with a wince of guilt.

"I'm fine." He stands and I push him down again.

"I'll be back." I leave him without another word, hoping he'll behave himself. As I step out into the street, hands in my pockets, shoulders hunched against the cold, I wonder if I'm wrong. Maybe I should have brought him with me. But he's not trained to go unnoticed like I am, and if something happens and his wolf appears, he will give us away for certain.

At least this little place offers no danger. I feel no sign of Enforcers or werewolves, no scent to warn they've been here. Just slightly suspicious and watchful early morning townsfolk, like every other small place in Ukraine. It's an hour before dawn, but the sun is late to rise this time of year, and the shops are already opening for business.

Food is easy to procure, a healthy slab of sausage smothered in sauerkraut and two servings of fresh bread, steaming from the oven. I'm salivating over them as I carry the bundle back to the hostel, thinking of my next move.

If the border is being watched, we'll have to find an unguarded place to cross. There are certain areas I know we can make it without dealing with normal authority, though it's possible the Enforcers know about them, too. I'm out of resources to tap, refusing to go back to Iosif for more help. We're on our own, but I have faith I can figure it out.

I have to figure it out. Failing Sage is no option at all.

As a fresh whiff of bread reaches me from the container in my hands, the hostel just ahead, I think of Syd. I've been shoving her away, but we could ask her for help. Not direct, not to have her come to us, but maybe some other assistance? I don't want her involved, not because I don't trust her, but because I love her and the coven. It's comforting knowing I can go to her, though, if things fall apart completely. And she did offer, though she's given up for the moment. But if I can keep her out of this, I will. She might be all-powerful and think no one can harm her, but if she stands against Femke and the werenation, not to mention her own witch Council, she puts her whole coven in danger.

I can't do it. Not after everything she's done for me.

Last resort, then. And only if her help can be taken without putting her family at risk.

The trouble is I know I can get Sage to California eventually. But will we make it in time? Sage might not feel like a real revenant, but there is no doubt he's changing. Seeing his wolf rising proved that to me. And we're already a day and a half out, or more. I have no idea when Sage was bitten, specifically. According to Femke's file, we only have a week at the most.

Five more days, tops. We'll just have to make it work.

I catch a familiar scent as I climb the stairs, but when I sniff again, all I smell is bread. Still, I come to a halt at the top of the steps, hyper-focused on the world around me. I know that scent, but from where? I almost toss aside the food, the heavy aroma of sausage cutting off my ability to separate smells.

But no, there's nothing. I'm imagining things, fear making me nervous and stressed. And yet, I am careful in the final steps to the door to our room, the bundle of food balanced in one hand as I reach for the knob with my right and draw a deep breath.

Letting it out with an anxious sigh as I step inside.

Sage looks up with a shrug. "Company," he says.

Maksym and Isabelle, my werefriend and the vampire girl he loves, offer little waves as I sag against the door behind me.



***