Wolves' Bane (The Order of the Wolf, #3)(22)
Andrew paused, his face drawn into a frown. “Oh, really?”
I shrugged, suddenly feeling self-conscious and defensive. “I didn’t ask for this, Andrew. I won’t give over my life in order to save your asses. And things with Caleb are…complicated.”
Andrew’s expression softened and he patted my hand. “I understand, Morgan, I do. But really, where will you go if you leave? Lazarus wants you and the second you step foot off the property, he can lay his claim. None of us asked to be born into this. We’ve all had to make adjustments in order to accept our fates. It may take some time, but you will come to understand just how important your role is to our group.”
I bit my bottom lip, contemplating his words. “I don’t know how to take that. It’s like you’re saying I’m trapped here.”
Andrew shook his head. “Life is about making choices. You feel like you don’t have a choice right now, but you do. You could choose to die. Fate has marked you for death and without our help, without Cal’s powers, you will die. It’s as simple as that.”
I flinched at his words, my mind tracing back to the night in the psychic’s tent. The woman had used the same words: you are marked for death. I slid my hand out from his and wrapped my arms around my waist.
Andrew frowned. “Listen, you’ve got a lot to think about, but how about we set aside all of this talk of leaving for a little bit and go see Kelly?”
I nodded as he motioned down the hall and remained quiet as we walked. I didn’t know how to process all of the things I was being told, but one thing was certain—if I decided to walk out on Cal, I’d be walking to my death. Maybe not right away, but eventually it would happen. Would Cal let me do that? He had said he couldn’t stand to lose his Huntress, couldn’t stand to be like the others who had lost theirs. So would he let me leave if I tried, if it was so clearly a suicide walk?
We paused outside a closed door, Andrew’s hand on the knob. “I have to warn you, Kelly is in a type of coma. She can only communicate through me.” He curled his lips slightly as if touched by a deep sadness and I immediately shifted my thoughts away from myself.
“What happened to her?”
Andrew attempted a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “She’s been like this for about six months now. She suffered a kind of problem when we bonded, unique to my particular powers we think…prophesy can become overwhelming to the brain, evidently she couldn’t handle it. Her body froze up.” He sighed as he laid his hand on the doorknob. “I’m the only one who can communicate with her via our mental link. I talked about sacrifices, adapting. She’s made the ultimate sacrifice.”
“If she knew that this would happen before she bonded with you, would she have done it again? Would she be willing to sacrifice?”
“Yes. She’s told me that many, many times over the months. She would do it again because it has meant a change in the tide against the beasts. The wolves’ numbers have run rampant. They are producing more and more bitten werewolves and are encroaching on the humans, killing to the point of discovery. We must fight back. Because of Kelly’s power, we are slowly starting to regain the advantage. With the Huntress, with you, we can win against Lazarus.”
Geeze, no pressure or anything. His words were so strong, so determined that for a moment I would have agreed to go and bond with Cal right there and then. But as sudden as that conviction came, it left again, and I remembered that I was just a plain girl, a university drop-out with no ambitions, no drive and no goals. I was not Huntress material, no matter what Andrew and the rest of them thought. Someone clearly made a mistake in choosing me. Obviously, Cal understood that. He didn’t even want to fulfill the bond to me, at least not on an emotional level.
Andrew cleared his throat and painted a smile on his face once again. “Sorry about that, got a little carried away.” He opened the door and motioned for me to step in. “Here, my dear, is Kelly.”
Pity tugged at me as I gazed down at the young, beautiful woman who had given up her life for the Order’s cause. A cause that I really didn’t understand. She lay on her grand bed, her red hair fanning out around her pale face, machines whirring and pulsing as they pumped air into her lungs and monitored her heart. It sent an uncomfortable chill through my body. Sickness had always made me feel too vulnerable, too out of control, and all of Kelly’s machines made me remember the weeks I spent watching my mother die—an alcoholic whose organs had failed one by one. It was an agonizing death for her to go through, and for me to watch. And seeing as how I’d experienced the trauma alone, having never known my father, it wasn’t one that I liked to reflect on very often.
“Morgan, this is Kelly,” Andrew said, his cheery voice a stark contrast to the hospital-room atmosphere. This was nothing like any psychic’s tent I’d ever been in. This was reality in the worst possible way. Prophesy at the expense of a woman’s life.
“Can she hear us?” I shifted my gaze to Andrew. “Does she know we’re here?”
“Oh yes, and she’s thrilled. She’s already trying to communicate with me.” He closed his eyes then, and I waited, not really understanding what was going on. When he opened his eyes again moments later, he smiled. “Kelly has been having some trouble reading your future. Her images about you have been fuzzy. Just now she was telling me, other than how happy she is to meet you, that she still can’t get a strong read on you.” He frowned as he shifted his gaze back to her. “It’s really bothering her.”