“What, Mom?”
“Do you want to stay, too?”
He dropped his gaze to his father and his uncle. The two men, still bound by the invasive vines I’d called upon, writhed on the ground. The vines had done their job and showed no sign of weakening. If anything, they appeared to be applying steady pressure on their victims. “I think Harp and I deserve to know.”
“Tanner?” I said.
He nodded solemnly . “I’ll work on them simultaneously. Do either of you have your phone handy?”
“I do,” Harper volunteered, slipping it out of his back pocket.
“I’m about to work a reveal spell. On my say so, take pictures. The images may not show up, but it’s worth a try.”
My gut clenched, and the raw area under the bandage continued to throb. A moment of truth was coming, and though my bare feet were anchored solidly to my land, toes pushing aside the grass’s stubborn roots in their search for soil, I still felt the rise of bile in my throat.
Tanner grabbed Doug by the shoulders of his shirt and dragged him next to Roger. I watched, fascinated and mildly terrified, as the vines wrapping my ex and his brother thickened in places and sent out tiny shoots in others, linking nearby sections in an approximation of fortified netting.
I stepped closer to Harper and slid my arm around his waist. “I’m sorry you have to witness this.”
“I’ll…we’ll be okay, Mom. Sometimes the truth hurts.”
“I know, sweetie, I know.”
Harper stepped away and readied the phone on his camera. Tanner stood to the side of Doug’s midsection and held out his hands, palms facing down. He closed his eyes and moved his lips. Whatever words he chanted were undistinguishable at first, until they became louder and more clearly enunciated. To my ears, it sounded like he was saying the same thing, over and over, in different languages: reveal.
I ripped my gaze from Tanner’s face and stared at Doug and Roger.
Their fingers lengthened. Their skin smoothed, all traces of facial hair gone. They were barefoot when captured, and a similar transformation was happening on their feet.
What caused the most confusion was the change in their faces. It was subtle, remaining true enough to the visages I’d known since they were teenagers, but it was there. They were reversing the aging process and becoming more youthful, even as their ears flattened against their skulls and grew pointed tips at the top.
“What the…” I whispered.
The vines I recruited began to snap. Doug and Roger must have felt their bonds loosening, and Tanner appeared so involved with his spell casting he wasn’t prepared for Doug’s foot as it crashed into the side of his knee and sent him stumbling to his back.
“Tanner!” I rushed to his side.
Harper was furiously clicking away, and Thatcher stared, dumbfounded, as his father and uncle ripped at the vines and freed their legs.
Doug roared as he broke away, scattering leaves and bits of shredded stems. He ran toward the road, Roger on his heels. Tanner was moaning on the grass, his leg at an odd angle, and Thatcher had given chase after the others.
“Harper! Give me the phone and go get your brother. I don’t want him anywhere near—”
A scream rent the air. “Dad—stop!”
I turned from Tanner and scrambled to my feet. My child was in pain or danger, and every maternal cell in my body hurtled me forward. I rounded the side of the house, my feet hitting the gravel without feeling the sharp edges of the stones, only to see Doug dragging Thatcher toward the road by one arm.
Tanner’s knife was in my hands. No time to wonder how it got there. I aimed it at Doug’s arm, pictured him releasing Thatcher, and unleashed an entire marriage’s worth of fury at my ex.
Doug let go of Thatcher with an ear-piercing scream and pivoted to face me, blood splashing from the knife sticking out of his wrist. His severed hand was still holding Thatcher’s arm as he reached the border of my land.
I grabbed the grotesque remnant of the man I’d shared a life with for over ten years and flung it in his direction.
Thatcher dropped to his knees.
“Mom!”
My eyes fluttered open. I rolled to my side and dry-heaved into the tire track next to my face. Sharp barbs of grass poked into my nose and against my cheek. I tried lifting my head higher; shaking fingers held my hair away from my face until I was finished. Both sons were on their knees, to either side, worry firing the lights in their eyes and the determination in the sets of their jaws.
“I’m okay,” I croaked, planting my hands and lifting my head. “I’m okay. Help me up.”
Thatcher’s shoulder was bloody, and he cradled that arm tenderly with his other hand.
“Did Doug get away?” I asked.
“They both did,” Harper said, spitting for emphasis, his eyes ablaze. “And we need to have someone look at Thatch’s shoulder. I think Da—Doug almost pulled it out of the socket.”
I turned to Thatcher. “You in pain?”
He nodded, made it to his feet. “You better check on Tanner, Mom. He was out cold.”
“Harper, you come with me. Thatcher, make yourself an ice pack and call Kaz and Wes. Tanner’s cell phone’s probably in one of his pockets or his bag. See if any of them can come and help. Or if they know what we should do.” I brushed off my bruised knees and held out my hand to Harper. “Let’s go.”
Chapter 15
Harper was able to assist Tanner up the porch steps, into the living room, and onto the couch. Tanner’s face was paler, the brown of his skin a shade I’d never seen on him before. A large, splotchy, red contusion covered the side of the damaged leg. I palpated the area as gently as I could, relieved to see the skin was unbroken and the
