Sorry I've been away for so long! Here's chapter 13 for you all

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She was back in the forest, a place she was beginning to think of as her father's forest, and there he was, like before. He was sat upon a big rock surrounded by wild honeysuckle or something related to it, whittling away at a tree limb with a silver knife.

"Hi, dad," she said to him in the dream. It felt odd to call someone dad when she'd never really known her father or seen him until now, but she said it anyway.

He looked up, mossy hair falling over one shoulder, and split his face into a warm smile, amber eyes glowing faintly.

"Heather... my child. What brings you?" he replied.

She walked through the last stand of trees in her way, slender birches whose bark was pristine white. She realized in her dream she wore a simple, flowing white sundress and her feet were bare. She was in her true fae form, and the vines and flowers in her hair were alive, vibrant splashes of color among the copper of her hair.

She took a seat beside him without speaking and his smile grew wider.

"You're happy. You've found a home in someone else. I can tell. And it makes me happy, my daughter," he said then.

She felt a wave of both joy and embarassment pass over her in the sun and she shrugged. "I really like him, and it's not just because of this damn breeding law they have going now... he makes me feel safe. Like I'm home. Not alone," she tried to justify the reasoning to herself.

"You don't need to explain it to me. So long as he makes you happy... what's his name?" asked her father.

"Uncle Mike. But he's the Green Man," she smiled.

Tommy's silver knife slipped and he gave a little start. "The Green Man? Truly? Oh Heather,..." he smiled. She wasn't sure if he was pleased to hear the name or concerned. She frowned.

"What?"

"Well he's a kind enough soul, for his age and power, but like all things with so much power, be careful. You've no idea how much power he has. In places where our magic absolutely shouldn't work, his does. That should tell you something. But I am happy it's someone I know of... is that the only reason you came? To tell me you'd found happiness?"

She smiled. "Nah. I just wanted to see this place again," she reasoned. "Will the walking stick bring me here?"

And suddenly, like magic, it was there, in her hand in the clearing, an ordinary looking stick colored a tan-white. She knocked it on the rock. Knock knock knock.

"Perhaps," he replied, and suddenly the stick flew out of her hand and tapped itself on the rock. Knock knock. Tap tap tap knock knock.

"Mind of its own," she remarked. The smell of flowers and sunshine was fading, though. She must be waking up.

"I don't want to go," she said sadly, looking at him. Knock knock knock knock.

"You must. You can return here any time, you know. I can't promise I'll be here, but this is your home, too," he said.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!

She awoke with a startled sort of gasp and smelled all the familiar scents of her own apartment, her bedroom, the familiar soft cotton feel of the quilt on her bed. She still smelled the flowers though. Touching her hair she realized they were her own, the ones blooming from her vines.

She heard Ellie, whining and pawing at the bedspread, and how she hadn't heard that before was a mystery – Ellie was her guide and guard companion and she was smart enough, had been trained to get her attention if something was amiss or needed attention.

"Ellie, I'm up, I'm awake," she said, and she went to swing her legs out of bed, except her feet accidentally connected with someoen's legs. Big sturdy ones.

"Oof!" came a gruff male voice, surprised. Oh right. Uncle Mike was still here. And now that she remembered that, she could smell him, their combined scents, all over the place. It was a nice smell.

BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG.

"I'M COMING!" She snarled at the front door, because of course someone was knocking. Pounding, now really.

Ellie's claws clicked on the hardwood floor and she whined anxiously. "Easy girl," said Heather, and she put a hand out to the doorknob to see what the hell someone wanted so badly. And that was when Ellie started to growl. Ellie didn't growl for no reason.

"Ellie-?" she paused with her hand on the doorknob. She turned it, and Ellie gave a sharp, deep bark. Just one. Don't open the door. Danger.

Now that she was listening to her dog, someone with better senses than she, she could feel it. Danger. Whoever wanted in so bad was no friend.

"Easy does it love," came Uncle Mike's voice from behind her. Things would be okay. She had him here, and he meant safety. She recalled her father's advice in her dream – he had a lot of power. Enough to keep her safe.

He reached past her and opened the door, and whatever happened next happened too quick for her to be prepared for it – there was a sharp smell, noxious like sewage or ozone, or both, and Uncle Mike and she went flying. She heard Mike crash into her coffee table – she hit the arm of her couch. Ellie let loose a volley of defensive barking, snarling, and next moment she heard a woman's voice, one she didn't recognize, utter a vehement curse. "Blasted mutt! Away with you!"

Strong hands helped her to her feet, and pushed her back. He was placing himself in front of her. And she got a scent of what REAL magic was like. It was so heady and strong it made her eyes water, an astringent, fresh scent that both made her dizzy and giddy. It was life. Pure life, powerful and new. Whoever had blown them away from the door gave a startled shriek, and she backed away quickly. Whoever Uncle Mike was having a showdown with must be a witch. The same one who had bespelled the bar and thrown it into chaos? What did a witch have against Uncle Mike? Or was it her she was after for some reason?

"Enough! Just give me the girl and I go away! I was only sent for the girl!" the witch growled. She heard the click of a gun. She'd heard it enough times on tv to know what it was. She had a gun. Guns were made of steel. Bullets had metal in them. Did copper hurt the Fae?

"Never," growled Uncle Mike, and suddenly the door slammed and there was a scream, and many thuds outside – evidently he'd shut the door in her face, knocking her back down the stairs.

"What does a witch want with me?! And what in the hell was all that?" she found her voice again.

He was silent a moment, fuming it seemed. Eventually he got his glamour back because she couldn't hear the leaves shooshing anymore.

"Witches... well some of'em anyway, set themselves out for hire. Dunno what she wants with you. But it's more likely whoever hired her wants you for somethin'. I've no doubt whatever it is isn't good," he said darkly. "I'll not let'em have you, don't you worry," he said. He folded her up in a hug and she nuzzled his chest. "What if it's the vampires? Would they hire a witch?" she asked on a whim.

"...Perhaps. They did have a hand in killin' your father. It wouldn't;ve taken much to find he had a child. Though what they want with ye' now is beyond me. But you'll be safe. I will keep ye safe. An' if I can't, Dave and his pack will," he promised her. She believed him.

It wasn't until they were halfway to the bar that she thought back to the night before. That sex had been freaking MAGICAL. Literally and figuratively. She must've voiced this out loud, because beside her, Uncle Mike chuckled.

"You've seen nothin' yet, love," he promised her. There was a warm note to his voice, like honey, and she got a cold chill. Oh god it got better than that?

"There's also the case with the Kelpie on the loose... and now there's a witch," she sighed, bringing the conversation back around.

His truck tires crunched over the familiar parking lot gravel and he sighed. "One thing at a time, eh? For now, let's just focus for a bit," he said.

"It's still morning... why are we at the tavern?" she asked curiously all of a sudden.

He parked. "If we've got a rogue Kelpie and a witch, and probably vampires on us now, I want you to connect with whatever magic you've got. To defend yourself if need arises," he said. "I'm gonna teach you".

She'd been about to climb out of the truck when he said that. Teach her how to connect with her magic. The only time she remotely thought she'd even used it was when that selkie in the bar, Kornak, had grabbed her wrist. She hadn't liked that. And occasionally, if she concentrated, she could 'see' what the plants around her saw, in rudimentary shapes and outlines only, colors not very defined. Mostly the things she saw that way were in shades of gray or darkness. Plants couldn't see much better than she could. But taught by the Green Man...

She couldn't let an opportunity like this pass her by. When would she get another chance?

She followed the sound of hi footsteps crunching over gravel, and then the sounds of them over the dirt and knew he was leading her back behind the tavern. She caught the distant scent of the river, garbage from the dumpster nearby, something sweet on the breeze from the trees, and of course the heady, prevalent scent of the flowers growing in her hair. She wondered why they'd bloomed now and if they'd close up again. She could tell by the feel of them that they were mostly different types, and not all of them overly subtle. It made her feel a bit self-consciouce.

"Stand there, please," he said, and she stopped walking. She heard him go a few steps further away and a slight breeze ruffled her shirt around. He'd told her as she was getting dressed that it was yellow. She'd taken him at his word.

"Try not to think of anythin'... clear your mind of everything, except where you are, and what. Just breath," he said.

"Meditation?" she assumed.

"Good. So y'know what we're doing then. Not a bad place to begin things, yes. Meditate a bit. And we'll get to the next step," he said. "Quiet now".

She did as instructed, focusing on not much else except the wind, the sounds, the scents... as usual she felt that deeper connection, that feeling she always felt when she was around nature. Peace. Contentment. Scents became sharper, noises became clearer. She thought she could even smell him, on the breeze, his typical tree-ish scents. Mixed with the spice and bar-smells he spent his time around.

"Good... now use that connection you feel... reach for it. It's like a muscle you've never used... try," he said. "Like with the glamour... happy thoughts, love".

She smirked at the memory, and she was right back on that beach, except instead of a beach and instead of the wayward, free-spirited 12-year-old, she was phasing back into the forest of her dreams, Underhill... her fingers were tingling... her whole body now... it felt odd, but at the same time, good. Very good. A muscle she'd never flexed, eh... well she was flexing it now, and it felt nice. Right. How had she never felt this before?

The field behind and around the tavern was mostly scrubgrass, errant bushes blown there by the winds, the occasional spindled tree... but all around her, unbeknownst to her, the yellows and tans and browns began to slowly flood green, around her feet the grass became springy, fuller,tiny purple and blue flowers budded and the bushes nearest her began to grow berries... she did indeed take after her father. Perhaps not a lord of the forest, but a Lady, without a doubt.

"That's it, Heather... not bad for a first try! Very impressive," said Uncle Mike jovially. It sounded genuine enough whether he was just congratulating her to make her feel good about it or not.

She opened her eyes and though she couldn't see what she'd done, if anything, she could feel it. The grass beneath her sandals felt thicker, a bit lusher, and she could smell the sweetness of flowers and berries around her, faint but there. There hadn't been before. And through the roots of the plants, she could see outlines enough.

A sense of elation flooded her, floored her and she looked up towards the indistinct outline that was the Green Man and grinned.

"I made this all grow?" she asked.

"You did," she felt a hand on her shoulder, and she hugged him. " I WISH I could see..." she sighed, still not put-out. Feeling was enough to be getting on with for now, and she knew she could use magic. No one could say she was a powerless halfie. If she could master making grass and bushes grow, pollinate, who was to say she couldn't do more?

Maybe she'd get some plants after all.

Suddenly she heard the shrill, too-perfect-to-be-anything-else sound of a cell phone ringtone. Uncle Mike answered after a moment. She couldn't quite make out the voice on the other end until the wind stopped blowing. Her hearing wasn't quite werewolf sharp, but it was sharp enough for this. She didn't know the voice on the other end, but it was female. And it sounded decidedly unfriendly.

"I see you've met my witch," said the woman.

"Aye. Could be I have. What'd you set her on me for?" demanded Uncle Mike.

There was laughter.

"Oh, you and I both know better than that, don't we. I want your little pet. I want the girl. Give me Tommy's daughter, and the attacks stop" promised the voice.

"You don't want to be dealin' with the likes of me, missy." Uncle Mike's voice sounded colder than usual. Angry.

"Tell me, how did my dear friend do? I heard he made quite the mess of her arm".

There was silence, and she felt a tightness in her chest. The wounds on her hip and arm and collar seemed to tingle unpleasantly and she remembered the attack. Vividly. HER friend? Her FRIEND? Whoever this person was, they were behind both the witch and the Kelpie. How? Who? Why?! So many questions!

"I see you've been makin' friends, then. It's his child you want, you won't get a hair off her head. She's protected by the local werewolf pack AND the Fae. What would a vampire want with the likes of her?" Uncle Mike demanded. She'd never heard him sound so agitated … not since the river attack, and he hadn't done much talking during that.

"She was supposed to be MINE!" the woman's voice shrieked through the earpiece.

Heather frowned, and stepped closer so she could hear that much better, and Uncle Mike put a gentle hand on her upper chest, near her good collar.

"I tell you what. Why don't we meet. Face to face. Neutral ground," suggested Uncle Mike. "You bring one, and only one witness. I bring one and only one witness. Heather stays away. She's not a prize to be dangled," he said.

Heather's frown deepend into a scowl. "Hey, don't leave me out!" she protested hotly.

Uncle Mike's shush was a little too late, because the vampire woman gave a laugh. It didn't sound like a genuinely amused one.

"Agreed, but by all means bring this Heather. I vow by my power to touch nary a hair on her head until after the meeting. Denny's. Half-brick road. 8 o'clock tonight," she clipped, and then followed a dial tone. She'd hung up.

"Dennys? You're going to meet a vampire in the middle of a Dennys?"

"Neutral, brightly lit, full of humans we don't dare use as fodder. It guarantees a mostly-nonviolent meeting," sighed Uncle Mike. "You won't be coming".

She sneered and folded her arms. "Try and stop me."

His hand cupped her cheek until his fingers met her hairline.

"You know I could, lass. Please. Stay at my home on the reservation until I return. And whatever you hear don't venture out. I promise I will tell you everything," he said, his voice a bit gentler.

"But-!" she protested, her tone bordering on whining.

"Heather,' he growled.

She sighed and let her shoulders slump a little, so that he put his hands on them and leaned his forehead against hers. "Do me this one thing and obey. It really is for your own good".

Pouting couldn't hurt, right?

"Fine. But I do it under duress..." she huffed.

"That's not quite the right context for that word, but I'll let it slide, love".

"I know".