Phoenix Reborn (Woodland Creek)(25)

But now as she walked, nothing seemed to settle. A man had attacked her. Another man was intriguing her more and more each day, and she found herself drawn to Hawke, caring for him so, so much.

Both were dangerous, but she suspected that Hawke was the more dangerous of the two. He could really hurt her if he wanted to, and it wasn’t like her to open herself up to such vulnerability. How this could even have happened with such a man was still a mystery. Her entire world had been flipped on its head over the course of mere days.

After a time she put her pack down and perched on a fallen log, thrusting her face into her palms for a moment as she thought about the bombardment of information that had rained down upon her over the last days.

Shifters existed. Not only that, but she was one. Someone, or possibly more than one person, wanted her dead because of it. Her parents had no doubt left or been killed in part because of who and what she was. Ranach was a wizard, and there was a man in her life who seemed genuinely to like her.

And none of this information was compatible. None of it made her life easier, made her care for Hawke any less. If they were together, her only option would be to lie to him about who and what she was. It would be better simply to stay away from him forever.



* * *



As the day wore on and Hawke didn’t hear from Ashling, he tried her cell phone several times, to no avail. His texts weren’t going through and attempts to call went straight to her voicemail. At first his assumption was that she was cooped up in Ranach’s basement, its thick walls preventing a signal penetrating.

And so, when filming had wrapped for the day, he walked over and knocked on the old man’s front door.

“Hawke Turner,” said the wizard, unsurprised. “Let me guess: you’re looking for our common friend.”

“I am. Is she here?”

“No, she’s gone away for a little.”

“Gone away?”

Ranach studied the young man’s face, which showed genuine signs of sadness. It was clear already that he cared about her.

“You should tell her,” Ranach said, his tone commanding and serious. “It’s not right to keep it from her now. She knows what she is.”

“I suspected as much,” said Hawke, stepping into the house. “And she’s hiding it from me, just as I’m hiding things from her.”

Ranach closed the door, sealing them away from the outside world. “I see no reason to keep your information from her. If she were a normal young woman, some blabbering twit, then fine. I could understand that your career would be at risk. But this is Ashling we’re talking about. She’s nothing if not reserved.”

“I know. For so long I’ve preserved my anonymity — ironic, isn’t it? I’m anonymous and famous at once. If anyone were to find out, my career would end, as you say. But it’s not only that. I would risk the lives of others.”

“Others, like that jackass of a man who assaulted her?”

“That man is a traitor to our kind; paranoid, a lunatic to boot. But he doesn’t want shifters discovered any more than I do. That’s why people like him are so frightened of Ashling’s potential. She’s amazing, Ranach. And I’m not sure I’m worthy of her.”

“Worthy? That young woman has been convinced all her life that she’s worthy of nothing. Not worthy of love, friendship, trust. It’s time someone gave her a little of it.”

“So are you going to tell me where she is?”

“She’s in Running Deer. That’s all I can discern. Her location is hidden from me. But I’m afraid that she’s in danger. Of course, she’s only trying to protect herself. She doesn’t care about pursuers so much as about you and what you symbolize. As far as she’s concerned, you’re a very normal young man who would judge her as others have.”

“I would never…”

“But she doesn’t know, Hawke, unless you tell her. Unless you open up to her. Allow yourself that.”

“You’re right, of course. I suppose it’s true what they say about wizards: you are sort of wise.”

“We’re idiots, really,” said Ranach, grinning. “But we know the simple things, like when a person needs someone else. You are the only one who can protect her, Hawke. Whether from others or from herself. She needs that.”

“I’ll find her.”

“See to it that you do — and soon. I have a bad feeling that she’ll need you before the day is through.”



* * *



Deep in the woods of pine, beech and birch trees, Ashling came upon an old ruin. It seemed to be the stone foundation of a house, though who might ever have lived in these woods, isolated from society, was a mystery.

“Then again, I’m here,” she muttered aloud. “This seems like the perfect spot for someone like me to settle down.” Maybe it was a shifter who’d occupied the house; one who, like her, wanted nothing more than to escape society’s judgmental eyes.

She set her pack down once again and wandered around the structure. One wall and chimney stood, windows staring like vacant eyes into the woods. Adjacent to that wall was another which remained intact only in part. It looked like a fine place to set up camp; the trees weren’t growing too close so a fire would be a possibility.