Primal Promise

Twenty-Three

"They're dead. They all died out years ago." Broderick argued, though there was an undercurrent of fear in his outward denial.

"Yeah. They're just bogeymen our parents use to scare us into behaving." Maverick echoed his brother's sentiment and the uneasy tone.

"They're not." Jameson shook his head. "I know that is where she is." He did know it. He felt it as sure as he felt the moon had risen outside while they'd been arguing in the house.

"Jameson," Herb's voice was sympathetic. "We believe you. It's just that there's been no sighting of them for decades. If they're not dead, they've run away and ..." He sighed. "How do you know?"

Jameson had kept the vision to himself. Just told the others to meet him at the resort. In the newest cabin, large picture windows facing out over the lake and Mount Bailey beyond it, the clan had come at his call. Every member except one. Charles had left the day CJ had gone missing four days ago, and his phone went right to voicemail.

He had been so angry at Charles. Convinced that he'd told Contessa the truth so to ruin any hope that she'd come to accept Jameson for what he was.  Whether it was spite or jealousy, Jameson had only known the feared result, not really the reason.   Now he needed his friend, but he'd been banished.   

Charles'  parents had come when he called, but Jameson could tell they were pained. They were holding hands in public. That was testament enough of their mutual heartache, and Jameson felt like the cause. 

"Tell us, Jameson," Isabella spoke from beside the fireplace, her hands occupied with a long twisted cord of knots that she turned in her fingers in a slow circle like a rosary. "You will, someday, lead this clan. If we cannot trust you to tell us the whole truth..."

He sank to the arm of the chair and put his face into his hands. Was he crazy? Did he really just make it up because he needed to have something to cling to? He'd heard of men going crazy when their mate died. Was that what it had been?  "I saw the girl." He looked to Herb. "The one you described in your father's picture.  She was in the road and I swerved. I got out of the car and then ..." 

He rubbed his forehead. "I just felt a wave of horror. Fear and disgust and anger and I saw... saw clear as I'm seeing you now, a woman tied to this wooden torture rack, screaming. There were men there all around her and there was a tree. A huge dead trunk, blackened and broken but still standing. Somehow, I knew how it got that way. This was the Nesri camp. The one you told me about. The one that burned."

"You must go." Isabella spoke firmly. "I have seen this tree as well. It is just as he says." She slid the rope into her pocket and fixed each of them under her sharp gaze. "They will expect you at night. You do not know their number. You must wait until morning comes. They will be weak because they are Nesri." She curled her lip at the name. "They will have run wild all night long. You must leave your skins behind tonight and make your way to their camp as men. When the sun rises fully, then, and only then, will your efforts succeed."

"We're with you, Jay." The twins spoke as they stood up as one.

"As am I." Andrew Aldwin stood, still keeping his wife's hand in his. Though older, he had lost none of his strength. Beside him, Jacqueline stood as well, Her mouth a tight line of resolution.

"Go." Jaris' voice quietly encouraged her husband. "I'll be fine." Her eyes were glossy with tears. "She's maybe hurt, Blaine. I have to stay behind. You don't. Go. Be my strength. Save her."

Blaine leaned over and took her face between his palms and kissed her softly, lingeringly, then stood, his arms crossing over his chest, his bearded jaw clenched.