Winter's Wrath: Sacrifice (Winter's Saga #3)

It was probably safer to look out her cabin window into the night sky, which is what she did with a sigh. She was tired, too, but sleep evaded her, so she allowed her thoughts to wander to her family.

Alik had befriended Farrow during the flight, and Meg was glad for it. Farrow needed a friend, and Alik is such a gentle, constant. Meg knew Farrow had come a long way in her healing, but like Creed, Meg sensed Farrow had a desperate wish to feel worthy to be accepted into the family.

She felt so sad for the two metahumans raised to think everything good had to be earned—that they weren’t enough to be loved and accepted just for who they were. Williams taught them their worthiness was directly equal to how perfectly they performed in the eyes of their superiors.

Meg closed her eyes and quietly thanked God for her mother who gave up everything to save her and her brothers. If not for Margo, Meg would either be dead or raised in such violence and dysfunction that she would be as broken as Creed and Farrow. How many more were out there? How many souls were lost this very moment? What could she do about it?

I’m just one girl.

I’m not even a girl.

I’m a mutated human.

I was abandoned, unwanted as a baby.

I was expendable.

I was just a rodent in a room with a one-way mirror so cruel people in white lab coats could watch the torment they put me through.

I was even branded like cattle.

How was I going to do anything?

I’m just one soul. Though it tears me up inside to know Williams is still hurting people, what can I do to stop him? What do you want me to do? Show me the way.”

Meg waited, and opened her heart to be ready to receive wisdom or strength or something.

But nothing happened.

Instead, her ears popped as the plane changed altitudes.

Well, she thought. I’ll just keep trying. Maybe you’ll make it clearer to me as I go.

This flight was going to be three hours, so Meg leaned over and used Cole’s wide shoulder as a pillow. I may as well try to get some sleep.

***

Meg woke thrashing.

She was drowning in a pool of the blood spilled at the hands of Williams. Nondescript chunks of flesh brushed her skin, and she was screaming, flailing and fighting to swim, but her arms were as heavy as stone. She couldn’t breathe. Every time she screamed, the blood of the innocents slipped into her open mouth coating her tongue, gagging her.

***

When Meg came fully awake, she was sobbing.

“Meg? Are you okay?” It was Cole. She must have awakened him, too. He was rubbing his face, trying to figure out what was going on.

Meg looked at him, wide-eyed and unrecognizing as the fog of the dream reached in to her waking world with boney fingers, calling her back into its clutches. She shook her head, trying to clear it. “Yeah, I’m okay, Cole,” Meg lied. “What time is it?”

“What’s going on?” It was Evan. He had been resting with Maze in the seats behind them but was now hovering over his sister’s head, looking down at her with upside-down worry.

“Meg was having another nightmare.” Cole kept watching her with a look of sincere concern on his handsome face.

Meg scowled at him, and rubbed her eyes with her fists, trying to shake the rancid aftertaste of the dream.

“Ev, what time is it?” she asked, changing the subject.

Evan glanced at his watch. “Well, to your internal clock, it probably feels like four in the morning. We’ll be landing in about forty-five minutes.” He didn’t even try to hide his concern as he stared at her rumpled, sweaty clothes and still-wet face. He was still standing above her, assessing with his physician’s eye.

Trying to redirect his attention, Meg started babbling. “I can’t wait to get out of these clothes and take a hot shower,” she yawned. “I could use a new toothbrush, too. Won’t it be nice to be back in Texas? Hawaii was lovely, but it was never home. I—”

“Meg,” Evan interrupted, “I’ve wanted to talk to you, but I thought it important to let you sleep for a while first. Maybe I shouldn’t have waited.” Worry darkened the shadows across his youthful face. He scooted out of his seat and came around to stand next to her row.

“Okay,” Meg said, trying inconspicuously to dry her cheeks of tears she hadn’t realized she’d cried in her sleep.

It wasn’t working.

“I need you to be honest with me. Tell me what happens to you when you use your evolved gift?”

Meg stopped rubbing her eyes and felt her heart jump around erratically in her chest. “I’ve already explained it to everyone.” She shrugged and tried to look very interested in adjusting the pillow behind her.

“No, you haven’t. You’ve been very evasive. I don’t think you’re telling us everything at all. From what I’ve seen, it has a much more profound effect on you—a negative effect.” Evan’s stare was intense. Now she knew what a cell on a slide felt like when he zoomed in using his microscope to study it.

“What do you want me to say, Evan?”

“Stop being evasive, and start at the beginning. What happens when you begin the empath connection?”