The Weaver's Source

Chapter 90

Nanat wasn't found.

I hadn't been surprised when I woke to find Remus and No-Tongue still gone and with no news. Grigore waited outside, covered in snow, arms folded and his gaze never leaving the streets as he leaned against the wall. He had watched for them or news since dawn but nothing came.

"She's gone now." Grigore grumbled when I stood beside him, wrapped up in my cloak.

I frowned, unhappy, and glanced up the road. Snow had fallen thickly while I slept, creating a new blanket that covered the slush before. There was barely any movement, just some children playing about.

"They will find her." I said stubbornly.

"They have better chances to now. No-Tongue and Remus have hunted this coven before. They know the male wolf. They know its mind."

"So they may get to her in time."

Grigore glanced at me. "I'm not sure. Olive and Mary are gone now. I'm not hopeful about Nanat."

My eyes turned a miserable blue and guilt gnawed in my stomach. Grigore noticed and gently slipped his fingers around the nape of my neck, pulling me against the wall of his chest.

"Remus may say otherwise. He is a specialist hunter, I'm not. He'll definitely know more about them than I do. Ask him when you see him."

I didn't like the idea very much. Remus was angry at the moment and I feared he blamed me for Nanat's disappearance. I knew he should and that I did. Frustration stung, like a needle jammed deep in my heart, twisting and niggling. I wanted to have done more. I should've done more. But, despite doing well with my bow and watching Grigore hunt, I was no closer to be something...threatening. I had no use in combat, even against mortals. I was feeble and fragile with a ball of magic luring in anything it could. I was a magnet for trouble I had no idea how to get out and, despite the ball of strength rumbling in me, growing every day, I couldn't hunt beside Grigore. I couldn't help like I itched to.

"What's on your mind?"

My thoughts froze at his voice purring softly, only noticing then how intently he was watching me, his body looming over mine protectively.

"Nothing."

"You know well enough not to lie to me. It's pointless. If you don't want to talk, just say, but don't tell me it's nothing when I can feel and see you're upset."

I flushed, embarrassed I had forgotten he could feel my feelings.

Grigore fell silent, but I knew he was observing me despite his gaze now tracing the snowy street and his body still beside me like stone. His magic brushed against me, warming me, trying to coax me to speak. It worked.

"I should've been able to save her, Grigore." I forced myself to say. "Nanat was within my reach. She was there. But I couldn't do a thing."

"Vampires are formidable even to Weavers, Lyra."

"That's not what I mean." I gushed out, my tone growing harsh as my frustration thickened. "I...I can't take care of myself. At all. I don't hunt with you when I should be. I have magic I can't use or control. I'm not threat to anything despite dragging trouble wherever I go. I've come nowhere since I left with you."

Grigore laughed, a deep sharp rumble. It surprised me.

"You've come a long way, trust me, Lyra."

I flushed at his certain praise. It was rare he gave it, even now.

"But I still couldn't protect a child."

Grigore eyed me cautiously, noting my gathering sadness, and his eyes took on a determined glint.