Hex on the Beach by Kelley Armstrong

Epilogue

Three days later, I walked through the woods bordering our house in the southwestern-most part of Canada. Pine needles crunched beneath my feet, announcing my presence well before Katie could see me through the thick trees, but this time, I wanted her to hear me approach. I was done spying on her.

“Hey,” I said when I reached the clearing where she was.

Katie’s shoulders hunched ever so slightly as she glanced at the felled trees around her before meeting my eyes. They hadn’t fallen from natural means, which would be obvious even if I hadn’t known what she had been doing out here.

“Hi.”

She sounded unsure, which wasn’t like her. Katie normally had the poise of someone three times her age, which was another reminder of how her childhood had been robbed from her.

I nudged one of the fallen saplings with my foot. “Clean break all the way through. One kick did it, huh?”

“You know?” Katie whispered, turning a shade paler.

“Yeah, honey,” I said softly. “I know. I’m not mad at you, either. I just want to know why you were hiding it from me.”

She didn’t say anything for several moments. I waited, schooling my features not to show anything except love and acceptance. I needed her to know that she could tell me anything, no matter what it was because nothing would ever, ever make me stop loving her.

“I didn’t want you to see me this way,” she finally mumbled while looking at her feet instead of me.

“What way?” I asked as gently as I could.

“The way I looked when I killed people.”

Now she looked up at me, and her dark gray eyes contained more pain than any child’s gaze should have.

“I never used to think about them, but now, I see them in my dreams, and it isn’t like before because now I care.”

Her voice rose at that last word, and if her speech had been carefully measured before, now she rushed through what she said as if she couldn’t get it out fast enough.

“I only saw them as targets before. Messy ones because of all the blood, but just targets. So, when they begged, it was only noise, and when they died, I was glad because that meant I’d passed the test, and they were only targets and tests to me back then. But now, I know they were people who wanted to live, and I remember what they said when they begged me, and I know what I took from them when they died because now, I love people, too, and I want to take back what I did but I can’t.”

My eyes burned and my throat felt like a hot coal was stuck in it, but I refused to cry. This wasn’t about me. It was about Katie, and I needed to let her get all of this out because there was so much more here than I’d realized.

“You’re not to blame for their deaths,” I said, my voice a little hoarse from the emotions I was holding back. “The people who turned you into a weapon are. You didn’t know any better because you were only a child. They did know better and they used you anyway, so they’re the real murderers. Not you.”

Katie swiped a hand across her eyes, catching the single tear that had fallen. Then, she nodded sharply.

“Most days, I understand this. But then I see them in my dreams, and it brings it all back. Training is the only thing that makes them go away, so I keep coming out here to train.”

My poor little girl!How she’d suffered, and worse, she’d suffered alone even though I’d been right there the whole time.

“How does training make them go away?” I asked, squelching my need to hug her and tell her I’d make it all better. I had to let her talk. She’d carried this inside her long enough.

“Because they know I’m doing this for them,” she said, gesturing at the pile of felled trees. “I can’t take back what I’ve done, but I’m going to make sure I’m strong enough and fast enough to stop other people from hurting those like them in the future. So, instead of being the weapon that kills people who need help, I’ll be the person who saves them. Like you.”

Like…me?

That was it; I was going to ugly cry. There would be rivers of snot. I might never recover from it. But first…

“Just be who you are.” My voice was husky because that lump in my throat felt like it had detonated. “Not who you think you should be. Who you are is enough, Katie. It will always be enough. And you don’t have to hide your training from me anymore. You don’t have to hide any part of yourself, ever. I love all of you, and I always will. In fact, if you want to”—I shifted positions until I was in a classic fighting stance—“I’ll even train with you. If you’re going to do this, let’s make it a little fun.”

Katie’s eyes had shone, hearing the first part of what I’d said, but at my training offer, her gaze clouded with skepticism.

“Thank you,” she said, now sounding almost comically polite. “But I don’t know if that would be a good idea. I’m a very skilled fighter. I don’t want to hurt you.”

I almost burst out laughing in addition to still wanting to cry myself into a state of snotasia. Oh, she had a lot to learn. First was that I’d always love her and be there for her, no matter what. Second was that her mama might not be able to cook, sew, or hold a conversation without dropping at least one f-bomb, but she could fight until the cows came home.

Or, at least tonight, I could fight until Bones finished with dinner in about an hour.

“Come on, sweetie,” I said, circling her while I cracked my knuckles and rolled my head around my shoulders to loosen up. “This is what your mama does best.”

The End