Page 33 of Old Secrets

As always, I had more questions than answers. I found some comfort in knowing something new about my past. For better or worse, as far as I could tell, I had been a wanted child. That my survival had been a mix of fortune and sacrifice bothered me.

Who had named me Karma?

More importantly, why?

Had my mother named me? Had my aunt, who had sacrificed her life so I might live? Had the person who’d taken me overseas been responsible for my naming and odd birth certificate?

Only time would tell.

NINE

“My ma turned out to be as much of a monster as them.”

Five Asian men died at my mother’s hands, and my father called water with his magic to erase the blood. The Inquisition took care of the bodies, giving them to Mellisa to burn to nothing but ash and bone. She did her work in the shrine where the foxes denned, and an air witch captured the smoke and bottled it.

The shrine’s miko performed a ritual over the glass vessel, tied an ofuda around the neck, and offered it to my mother with a low, deep bow.

My mother took it with both hands, returning the bow for the same depth and length, and after some time of contemplation, she passed it to my father.

Jake and I remained in our animal forms, and I stayed close to his side with an entourage of foxes, who crammed close in their effort to stay in contact. Every now and then, Jake groomed my ears, and knowing the evils of wolf breath, he made a point of licking my nose.

My attempt to nip him resulted in more wolf breath along with a hefty dose of slobber. I slinked off to change back to human, and Aiko tended to me, helping me dress and confirming I hadn’t come to any harm.

When I returned to the shrine, my mate had vanished off somewhere along with the foxes, and my parents spoke with Mellisa and Amelia. “Did you get them all?”

“Of the ones who showed,” my mother replied. “None were worth keeping alive. They were no more than ignorant servants of the real men we hunt, so don’t worry about if knowledge perished with them. When we spoke to the Inquisitors, they promised the families of their victims would be given closure, and that it was better to kill them swiftly. I have ways of keeping prey alive, especially now that we have left our mountains. But it is better this way. If I could have spent hours making them suffer, I would have—and I would have enjoyed it.”

That I understood, having seen such things plenty of times in the violent crimes division. Unlike most of the families struggling with tragedy, I determined my mother meant every word she spoke, and remorse was not a word included in her personal dictionary.

I could accept her ruthlessness and thirst for blood and revenge. I struggled to comprehend how long she had suffered at their hands, and I doubted I would ever understand.

Considering the pair through narrowed eyes, I asked, “Does this mountain do something to your magic?”

My mother smiled. “You’re perceptive. Good. Yes. There are many wards there, much like the ones here, but far older and far more potent, meant to keep our powers quiet when we are in our sanctuary. Our sanctuary ultimately became a prison. It has been a prison for many decades now. My sister was the first to escape it since our imprisonment, taking you with her. You are the first of us to have lived somewhere other than our sanctuary for over a hundred years. Our enemy is old and tireless. Relentless. They seek power, but they cannot claim it for themselves. And they wish to use us to claim that power, but we have stood steadfast despite the prices we have paid.” My mother made a soft sound, and she regarded my father with a solemn expression.

He offered the faintest of smiles, and he reached out to touch my mother’s cheek. “You are the first surviving child of our people in over a hundred and fifty years. Every other litter was killed. We always tried our best to hide that we tried to continue our kind, but without fail, they would show up within hours of birth and slaughter our hope for the future again. They slipped with you—and you gave us hope. They have also guaranteed their deaths. Those of us left know you are alive and well, and that you have defied them numerous times now. The winds whispered of the deaths at your hands, and the Earth rejoiced at the spilling of our enemies’ blood. You have struck blows to them without knowing the monster you fight.”

“They targeted children,” I informed him. “That was all I needed to know. That one of the children was me only made it a little more personal.”

Jake stepped into the shrine, and he wore one of his new suits, a change from the protective gear we’d arrived in. With one of his quiet smiles, he stepped to my side, leaned over to kiss my temple, and placed his hand on my back. I questioned that part of his gesture, as he normally would have tucked me close in a possessive display. Once back to our room and in private, I would ask him about the change, although I worried he wanted to come across as more welcoming to my parents.

“Introduce us?” my father asked, and to my amusement, I realized he stood less than an inch shorter than Jake.

“This is Jake. He’s a wolf, and if he comes near you as a wolf, his breath smells vile.” I reached around, snagged Jake’s hand, and moved it to the appropriate place, enabling him to tuck me close at his whim. “Wolves are high maintenance, require daily care, but are typically excellent father material.”

With one of his soft huffs, Jake turned me, picked me up, and waited for me to attach to him before saying, “Have you been briefed about Karma’s adoptive parents?”

“Yes. The woman had joined forces with our prey, but our daughter proved to be more than they could handle. We were also informed you have both had some abuses by members of your species, but it has been resolved.”

As Jake had placed me where I could rest my head on his shoulder, I did so. “My ma turned out to be as much of a monster as them, but my pa was a good man.”

“One of them had to be to instill your level of integrity,” my mother acknowledged. “I am grateful to your pa, as you call him. The other? May she pay for her sins in the next life.”

Karma, the balancing of the scales. “Did you name me?”

“No, we didn’t. I saw the papers, and that would have been my sister’s doing, a web of lies meant to keep you safe. The name she chose for you is a strong one, and we see no need to take what has become yours to follow old traditions and beliefs. Should you want, once our sanctuary is made safe, we can teach you of the family you never knew you had.”

“I’d like that. I doubt I’ll make a good Tibetan, though.”