Tainted roots

“You know what your problem is?" She randomly asked, pulling me out of my thoughts. Even though I wasn't sure I wanted to know where she was going with this, I shook my head and waited for her response.

“You keep asking the wrong questions. Instead of asking what it is or why it's important, you should be asking; was I the only one looking for it? And the answer to that question is no."

“What does the key unlock?"

Dropping her head back she sighed. "Still asking the wrong questions."

She was worse than Koa and Ari combined with how she evaded answering questions. "How is that the wrong question?"

She tilted her head back down and gave me a disapproving stare. "It's a reasonable question to ask," I said, barely able to keep my voice level. The last thing I needed was to scream at her.

“You’re not ready for that answer."

Groaning under my breath, I dragged my hands through my hair, or at least I tried to. "Fine, who else wanted it?"

“Oh, I'd imagine many others, but there is only one group in particular that matters right now."

I waited for her to elaborate, but the bitch remained silent. "Seriously? Am I going to have to guess?"

“Think it through, you'll be able to figure it out." I wanted nothing more than to wipe that amused look off her face.

Exhaling a long breath, I started trying to figure out who would be after an ancient power—that was somehow a key. This was ridiculous, I was standing out here in the dark with a woman who's had no problems with attacking us in the past. Chances were she was just messing with me, and wasting my time. I opened my mouth to accuse her of doing so, when realization dawned on me. Making me feel stupid for the several minutes it took for me to figure out. "The possessed."

The bitch had the audacity to clap. "There you go."

“But you already have the necklace—key. Why would they be attacking random Mythics?"

"I didn't say it was the only one of its kind," she said casually, shrugging when my jaw dropped.

“How many?"

The only response she gave me was a shrug. A fucking shrug. What a fucking cryptic bitch.

All I wanted to do was stamp my foot in frustration. That or try and smack the hell out of her until she answered my questions. "What are they? The ones possessing the Mythics. I'm assuming being possessed is the reason they can't remember anything."

Her lip curled like it did when I mentioned the deities. Another word of that foreign dialect flowed from her mouth.

“That better not be their name. There's no way I'd ever be able to pronounce that." Dropping my head in my hands, I was surprised I didn't have a headache from this confusing and frustrating conversation.

Laughing under her breath, she shook her head. "There's not always a direct translation between our languages and yours, but if I had to translate, I'd say it was close to tainted or forsaken."

“That doesn't help explain what they are."

"I have neither the energy nor the desire to try and explain them to you." Her bright eyes scanned the now-dark space. "It's a shame your spirit familiar's not around, I've always found them and their histories fascinating."

I blinked, thrown off by her sudden change in subject. "What makes you think she's not around?"

“I would be able to sense her if she was, even when she's cloaked. And I'm not the only one who can."

Her warning sat heavily on my chest. The thought that Rowan could be in danger had my stomach tied in knots. I felt for the ball of light in my chest, next to the mating bond and sighed in relief when I felt its radiating warmth and buzzing energy.

The woman toyed with the red-tinted rings adorning her right hand, her expression one of contemplation. "Do you know why it's so rare for your spirit animals and spirit animal familiars to be of the same species?"

Of course, she would know. I shook my head, trying not to get my hopes up. "They remember." She laughed as I dragged my hands down my face. Almost like she enjoyed pissing me off with her cryptic remarks.

“Wow, so helpful."

The red rings that had been on her right hand, turned into liquid metal as they trailed down her fingers towards her left hand. It hovered in the air between her hands, forming a small knife, roughly the same length as her hands.

“Scratching the possessed with this will have them thinking twice about sticking around. It's to them, what silver is to you." She held the knife out to me, handle side out.

Keeping my steps slow and cautious, I took the knife from her and put distance between us again. The blade and handle were both made of metal and was surprisingly well-balanced. The Fire court elementals would kill for this ability, it would make their metal working a whole lot easier. Energy thrummed along the blade, different than one enchanted by blood mages or sorcerers. Up close, I still couldn't recognize the metal type. "What's the catch? Why give this to me?"

“Let's just say, it's an apology for stabbing you and your mate." She chuckled lightly and I shot her a bland look. The smile slipped from her face as she eyed the knife.

“You're smart for not trusting me," she murmured, tracing a finger along the metal twining her forearm. "I just hope you keep the same level of caution going forward. It's difficult to know who's your ally, and who's your enemy when you don't know what game you're playing."

I stared down at my new weapon, thinking about how she was basically describing herself, and how she'd been several steps ahead of us since the moment we met a month ago.

“You were right about one thing, I did come here for a reason. Gabsrielle sent me here to give you a message, one that you'll understand when the time comes. She said, that you'll find what you're looking for in the tunnels."

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean, and who the hell is—" My questions abruptly died on my lips as I looked back up and found the boulder she'd been sitting on only moments ago empty.

I spun around, looking into the trees and at the rushing water, tapping into my wolf's enhanced senses. There wasn't a trace of her, it was like she vanished. If it weren't for her scent lingering in the air and the new weapon in my hand, I might've thought I imagined the whole conversation.