Heartsong (Green Creek 3)

“Ta,” he said. “Tay. Tay. Ken. Tay ken.”

“Taken.”

He nodded again. Yes.

“Taken. Your magic was taken from you.”

Yes. Yes.

“Ripped from you before they put you in here.”

Yes. Yes. Yes.

“Because of what you did.”

And that got a reaction out of him. He narrowed his eyes, and his grip on my ankle tightened to the point where it’d probably leave a bruise if I were human. He snapped his mouth at me, teeth clicking together again and again.

“Because of what someone else did,” I said.

Yes. Yes. Yes.

“Do you… do you know who I am?”

“Rob. Bee.”

I swallowed thickly. “How do you know me?”

He said, “You. Are. Wolf.”

He said, “You. Are. Pack.”

He said, “You. Are. Bennett.”

No. No, no, no—

I kicked him. He grunted as my boot caught him in the chest, knocking him back. His fingernails scraped against my ankle before he let go. He fell back onto the floor, head bouncing against the wood. I pushed myself up, ready to tear him to pieces.

He was staring up at the ceiling, barely blinking, his head near one of the legs of the chair he’d been sitting in.

“You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about,” I snarled down at him. “You don’t know me. You don’t know the first thing about me. I’m not a Bennett. The Bennetts are traitors. Ezra said—”

He laughed. It sounded wet and harsh.

It went on and on before dissolving into heaving gasps, tears streaming down his face as he smiled.

“Fuck this,” I muttered.

I headed for the door.

Before I could walk through it, he spoke again.

“Dale,” he gasped through his tears. “I am Dale. I am Dale. I am Dale I am Dale I am Dale I AM DALE I AM—”

I closed the door against his screams.

I called the number from the note again as I stood on the porch, running a hand over my face.

It rang and rang.