Karen Whiddon: The Lost Wolf's Destiny

Inside the darkly luxurious vehicle, Blythe felt uncomfortable, out of place. Jacob looked larger than life, at ease in his surroundings. Catching her eye, he flashed a reassuring smile. Rather than feeling at ease, she pressed her hand to her stomach, trying to smother her sudden doubt. Was she doing the right thing?

Inhaling deeply, she inwardly chanted her new mantra. Anything to give Hailey a chance. Anything.

The drive to the compound/ranch/whatever seemed to take forever. She’d known it would be a long ride. Afraid that she and Hailey would be subjected to hours of Jacob’s glib patter, she was pleasantly surprised when he got out a laptop computer and began working, ignoring them.

Hailey, whose only signs of her illness so far had been the bruising and a bit of breathlessness and fatigue, curled up at Blythe’s side and promptly fell asleep. Evidently she didn’t share her mother’s misgivings. This, too, gave Blythe hope. Hailey might be young, but she was a pretty good judge of character.

After three hours had passed, Blythe began to regret drinking that diet cola earlier. Determined not to draw attention to herself, she crossed her legs and tried not to squirm. Surely sooner or later Jacob would have to stop, right?

Finally, when she thought her bladder might explode, she reached over and touched his arm. She must have surprised him, because he recoiled and his lips curled in a snarl. Then, so quickly that she might have imagined it, the almost feral look vanished and the pleasant, benign fatherly figure was back.

“Yes, child?” His voice boomed, filling the small space.

Hailey stirred, whimpering.

“I need...” Blythe licked her lips, her mouth suddenly dry. “That is, could we please stop so I can use the restroom?”

“Of course, of course.” Still sounding too hearty, Jacob rapped on the glass partition and ordered the driver to find a gas station or fast food place so that their guest could take care of her bodily functions.

The odd phrasing sent a prickle of alarm up Blythe’s spine. Why did he make it sound as if normal human needs were somehow beneath him?

Misgivings swamped her. Maybe, just maybe, this had been a bad idea. She shouldn’t have let herself be bulldozed. She should have insisted she take her own car and meet him there at a future date. That way, she’d have had a method of escape.

Escape. She grimaced at her own foolishness. As if she’d need that. She was going with Jacob Gideon because he’d graciously agreed to help her daughter. Without asking anything of Blythe but her time. He was a good man, a healer. If he acted a bit odd, she’d have to put that down to his lofty calling. She really needed to put her strange misgivings aside and have the necessary faith to let him do his thing.

Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

Once they parked, she helped her little girl out of the car and stretched. Hand in hand, they hurried toward the restroom. Inside the little convenience store, Blythe bought Hailey a juice and some animal crackers. She got herself a bottle of water and, as a last minute afterthought, picked up one for Jacob and the driver, too.

Back in the car, Jacob accepted the drink and thanked her, then put the bottle aside and never even looked at it again. Blythe caught herself wondering if he had some kind of superhuman ability to withstand thirst and then giggled softly at the notion. She must be more exhausted than she’d thought.

“Do you find something about me amusing, Ms. Daphne?” He sounded deeply concerned. As she raised her head to look at him, he gave her a self-deprecating, worried smile.

“Of course not.” Guilt stabbed her. “I’m just overly tired.

He nodded. He didn’t ask her to explain and she didn’t offer. As a matter of fact, for the rest of the trip, when Jacob did raise his head from his work, he barely glanced at Blythe. Instead, he studied Hailey, his patrician features soft with compassion. Blythe appreciated his concern, and took his kindness to heart. Even while Hailey slept, Jacob continually watched her. Which Blythe supposed was only natural, since she was the one he would be healing.

Faith. Shiny and bright. She clung to that, holding her little girl close.

After sleeping for several hours, Hailey stirred and woke, one pale cheek red where she’d been sleeping on it. “Mama, are we there yet?” she asked, shifting her tiny body restlessly, trying to kick at nothing.

“Not yet, honey.” Blythe did her best to soothe her daughter. From past experience, unless she could divert Hailey with food, something to drink and entertainment—whether a toy or television—Hailey would begin to act out.

Since Blythe had only juice, she knew it would be rough going. Once or twice, she looked up from her efforts to keep Hailey occupied to find Jacob watching, a sympathetic expression on his face.

The last few hours of the drive began to feel like torture. Bored and whiny, Hailey appeared to be trying her best to ruffle the older man’s feathers while Blythe caught herself holding her breath. Blythe wondered if a man like Jacob would have patience for an exhausted, cranky five-year-old.

To her surprise, he did. To Blythe’s relief, Jacob appeared indulgent, long-suffering and patient. As he answered her daughter’s nonstop, rapid-fire questions, she began to relax the tiniest bit, allowing herself to feel a warm, fuzzy glow. Maybe, just maybe, all her worries had been for nothing.

“Don’t worry,” Jacob said, directing the comment at Blythe as he handed Hailey a pad of paper and a pen so she could draw. “There are many small children in my congregation.”

Then Jacob smiled at her. Blythe found herself smiling right back. That was one thing. Ever since she’d purposely wandered into one of his mega services, she’d liked him. Even though he wasn’t Pack—a Shape-shifter like her and Hailey—she hoped and prayed and believed he’d be able to help her Halfling daughter with the faulty heart.

Finally, Hailey dozed off, giving both Blythe and Jacob a rest.

After what felt like an eternity, they arrived at Jacob’s compound—Sanctuary, she reminded herself—well after dark. Huge gates, which must have been modeled after someone’s idea of the biblical gates to heaven, blocked their way. They were lit up by floodlights and when the driver punched a code into a box, the gates swung open slowly.

“We’re here,” Jacob boomed, once again waking Hailey, who began to sniffle.

“Shh, sweetheart. We’re at the ranch,” Blythe soothed.

At the word ranch, the five-year-old’s eyes opened wide. “With horses and cows and cowboys?” she asked. “Will I get to see them?”

Jacob made a sound low in his throat. Both Blythe and Hailey looked at him, waiting for an answer.

“You’re in the West Texas desert, child,” he finally said, his voice calm although a bit condescending. “It’s summer, you know. So hot that we can barely go outside.”

Hailey squinted up at him. “No horses or cows?”

“No. You won’t be seeing any livestock here.”

His door opened, the driver standing woodenly at attention. Jacob glanced at Blythe. The icy flatness of his gaze surprised her, especially after all the warmth he’d shown during the ride. “My people will tend to you and your child. I will see you again tomorrow morning.”

Without waiting for her answer, he climbed from the car and back stiff, head up, he strode away. He didn’t look back. Then he was gone. Just like that.

Lucas didn’t sleep well. That night for the first time in a decade or more, the old nightmares returned with hurricane force, as if they’d never left. He woke aching, hurting as though he’d just been beaten. Though his body still bore numerous scars from that time, he’d trained himself not to see them at all. He didn’t allow himself to relive the beatings and the torture.