“Wait. There aren’t people who know––are there?” I said. “That you can––that you are––I mean, you do keep it a secret––don’t you––? Or try to? That you shift.”
Ballard gave me a pitying look.
“Did you know that there were werewolves?” he asked. “Did I? Did my sister Lia? Or Gaven? Of course not. Anyway, it’s called the Wolf Festival, Lupercalia, and it’s thought to exorcise this city of evil spirits––which is exactly what we do, so maybe somebody did talk, an old Defender or somesuch. Although I can’t think whom.... Lupercalia is also good for pregnancies....” he said. “What?”
“Ballard––L-Lennox is not––”
“Oh, come on. You can’t even say his name.”
“He’s not evil,” I said.
“Then where is he?” he asked. I couldn’t answer his query. “Ah-hah!” he said.
“I’m sure he’s just been––delayed––is all,” I said.
“If you say so,” said Ballard.
Hadn’t I just said we shouldn’t fight?
“Look. I just––care about you. All right? If he’s... leading you on...” said Ballard.
“He’s not! You have no idea how complicated things are for him,” I said. Teenage emo-queen person.
“You mean, the fact he’s a vampire, and we’re his mortal enemies, and we’ve drawn a line, and said you to your corner, and we to ours, and now he’s broken that, by coming to Rome? Gee––I never thought of that,” said Ballard.
“The Lenoir told him to come here,” I said.
“Exactly. And in the process––threatened the sanctity of our sovereignty––or something.”
“He’s never fed here, Ballard––Lennox is a good vampire. He only drinks Blood Cups.”
“Whose blood, Halsey, is in those Cups?” said Ballard. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t want to fight. This place”––and here I thought he meant Rome––“is like––I dunno––like my luminarium, or something. It’s where I come to be myself, if that makes sense. It’s where I can reflect.”
He was speaking about the garage. “It’s almost January,” he said. “Soon it will be the Wolf Moon. Then there’s the Worm Moon and the Blue Moon, the Hunter’s Moon. All kinds of moons. If I drop my pants, I can show you the Ballard Moon.” He laughed, cutting the tension.
“You’re so hipster,” I said.
“Rome is a bastion. It protects us. I am not like my brothers and sisters. I am more powerful. And I am this––this werewolf, that I am, for all time; only Gaven and I have spoken of this. You must know, Halsey, because we are linked. You need to know there is this connection between us. It does have the wider effect of complicating our relationships with the other supernaturals. I and my family, we are bound, through oath and pledge and centuries, to being Protectors of Rome––and now I feel this same kind of connection with you, I don’t understand it. I know that you are soon to leave us, and that you will ask me to go with you.... What you and I are about to do transcends the Sons and Daughters of Romulus,” said Ballard. “We’ve never had a member of the Pack protect an outsider before. You are one of us, Halsey Rookmaaker, a Romulan Daughter.”
“Wait... what?”
“For Lia, she continues to be over-the-moon. Gaven is the One. It’s only a matter of time before they decide to have kids. I have spoken to Gaven...”
“Wait... what?”
“How else am I supposed to interpret these feelings?” he said. “I feel you hurting inside of me. Almost as though––no, it’s as though–– It causes me physical pain. Your pain is my pain.”
When I meant for Ballard to show me his, I hadn’t meant all of this.
“I am working to keep these feelings under control,” said Ballard. “Probably, because I know how you would feel, if I told you. Terrified––or like we couldn’t be friends anymore. But there is an upside. I think I will always know when you are in trouble.”
He dropped the torque wrench he was carrying, as if my emotions were causing him physical pain.
Ballard––felt things. It was almost like he was standing naked before me. He was showing me his. “But you don’t feel that way about me. Do you?” he said.
“Wait... what are we talking about?” I said. I was confused. More than usual.
Was Ballard talking about what I thought he was? Was I supposed to be a Romulan Daughter––more than just honorarily? And these feelings of his. I needed him to explain that. He knew when I was in danger?
“You and me,” he said.
“What about us?” I said, before I could stop and think.
“I understand if you don’t feel that way about me,” he said, talking at cross purposes.
“Wait... Ballard...”
“Never mind. It’s all right.”
My Mark prickled, flaring painfully––I slapped it with my off hand. Maybe it was in conflict with who I was. It was really starting to hurt. Maybe I was in conflict with myself. Had Ballard just declared himself to me? “WAIT,” I said, out of breath from the pain. “I don’t want to lose you, Ballard,” I said.
He made some laughing, dismissive hand gesture. “Honestly, I don’t even think that’s possible,” he said, tapping his forehead.
“Huh? What does that even mean?” I said.
“Ask Lia. I know I have.”
“Ball-ard,” I said.
“It’s nothing. Lia just thinks that––if she’s magic, maybe I am too. And maybe that’s, you know, why I could see you coming––when I did.”
He was wiping off his hands, searching for another tool. Looking at me only every now and then.
“My senses are heightened,” he said, “all right? I get these feelings. Like I’m... constantly on edge or something, I don’t know what it is.”
“Has it ever happened before? And what precisely is it?” I asked.
I came forward to help him.
“But one thing is certain––” he said. “You and me, we’re supposed to do something.”
He waited for me to say something. I nodded my head. I think my brain had stopped working.
They will have a Power... A Power of Sight...
“Look. It’s all right. I can deal with it,” he said. “It’s not like I have a choice about the way I feel. Only Lia thinks it may be a Risky thing. Like I haven’t got enough to worry about, I may also be the ghost of my dead uncle.”
He laughed humorlessly.
Ballard’s emotional state was my main priority. He had dropped anvil-sized hints of his feelings for me in the past––which was why I had encouraged the Liesel thing, but apparently that hadn’t worked out. Now what was I supposed to do?
“We need to talk about this later,” I said. “Definitely later. Right now, I want you concentrating on that race. I––have some things I need to do.”
Meanwhile, Ballard’s feelings may have been caused by something else, entirely. I didn’t want to diminish them, but couldn’t they have something to do with the fact that––he was my Protector? Maybe he was bound, as he said, to see inside my screwed-up head, or to at least know when I was out of sorts. Out of mind, out of sight. A power of Ballard.
“That’s what Gaven said,” he said. “He seemed to think they were natural feelings, my instincts, my prickly apprehension when you are not around.”
“So you can’t read my mind...”
Ballard looked at me defiantly. His words held a separate meaning.
“I only see the real. Not the unreal.”
If Ballard’s Protector thing was the reason he was getting these feelings... about me... that would make me Her. The Wiccan Prime Mover. Which I was not. I couldn’t possibly be. I was sure of that. Lia––I needed to speak with her. I decided to go home first. I asked Ballard about the race––the Il Gatto triple circuit of Trastevere. He said it would be sometime after the New Year but before Lia’s wedding, “If...”
“That’s right. If....” I said.
With Ballard teetering on the
precipice, Locke was even more of a thorn in my side.
* * *
When I got home, my landlady was in a funk. “Not you too?” I said. She eyed me beadily.
“You have new hallway person,” she said, “living down hall.”
“You mean a new Housemate?” I said.
She nodded, but there was something calculating in her look. Like she was waiting for me to do something. I decided to effect my escape forthwith, before my landlady could criticize me further. It was at the vending machine I saw her... This new person...
She was exiting the door beyond the hall, with her back to me, pulling at a handcart, when she turned, facing me. It happened in slow motion.
One second, I was getting an energy drink, the next––
I saw a bunch of cardboard boxes, and was just about to say hello––perhaps go over the do’s and don’ts of the place, such as do avoid the landlady, do not look too directly at her––when I saw who it was... Vittoria... Her forehead creased. “You,” she said. She looked at me, menacingly.
I saw her look at my Wiccan Mark. Luckily, it was concealed underneath my sleeve.
“Me,” I concurred.
“What are you doing here?” she asked. “You don’t mean to say you live here?”
“For a while now. Why?”
“That’s just perfect,” she said.
I wanted to know where she had been––what she was up to; if she was any nearer to figuring out this whole Wiccan thing? If, in fact, it required kowtowing to the likes of Ravenseal?
“None of your business,” she said.
We stared at each other for a full five seconds. Finally, I nodded, and turned the key to my room. “You suck, Vittoria,” I muttered underneath my breath.
* * *
It was important I emancipate myself. Seeing Vittoria there––remembering how she had done it, I sat at my desk, removing the stationery from my desk drawer. Next, I fished out the brochures from when Vittoria and I had been Initiates, during the whole recruitment phase. I flipped through some of them. All the Initiates had swapped brochures like trading cards. London looked magnificent. Old, otherworldly. But it was Prague which stopped my eye. The brochure for Ravenseal was ornate. I found its address. A letter addressed there would reach her, I was sure. Veruschka Ravenseal.
Someone had written on the stationery before me. So I pulled off a few pages with the ghosts of scribbles on them, and began afresh.
To Whom It May Concern... Though privately I knew it would go directly to Veruschka...
I was flattered when
I really enjoyed meeting
I thank you for your interest in selecting me
I need more time to sort out certain of my affairs.
Obviously, I wrote, that means a delay in when your man should be sent. Why SHOULD he be sent? I don’t NEED––
I decided to begin again:
Dear Veruschka.
It’s me, Halsey. I’ll be there later.
In Prague, I mean.
My friend is getting married.
I want to be here, for the ceremony.
Don’t send your man. Just don’t.
Halsey.
That would have to suffice. I didn’t sign it Rookmaaker. At this point, whatever happened would. If Veruschka Ravenseal was coming for me, so be it. I sealed it and flipped through the brochures some more, looking for a way out.
The fact was, Rome was home. I didn’t want to go anyplace else. Perhaps I was becoming like Lia. Set in my ways.
Prague scared me. I didn’t know why.
In fact, I did know why.
It was almost like they thought they could do whatever they pleased, in Prague––with the Hunters and somesuch. Hadn’t Ravenseal ever heard the word no before?
The delay was dishonest, but I didn’t care, I had things to do. For starters, it had become imperative I find my Wiccan House immediately.
Chapter 4 – Il Gatto
Our sleek heads broke through the cover of cloud, going up the mountainside in the ski lift, Lennoxlove strapped to his Burton. I had never seen him in the sun before. “I didn’t know vampires skied,” I said.
“Snowboard, actually,” he corrected.
Below us I could just make out the tiny figures of Dallace and Camille. It was a moment before I realized Camille had also been a Wiccan (as if it could go away). There was more to her story; I chided myself for never having asked it, the question I needed to have answered. She and I were practically family.
I watched as she pulled off a spectacular McTwisting something-or-other, backside quadruple whatever. Straight into Dallace’s arms.
Lennox looked happy.
I felt the chairlift ticking below me: we were high up. And then, I don’t know how this happened, it was like he was controlling it. Lennox pulled a lever and we stopped.
And we swung, high up, between the sheer sides of a plummeting gorge.
Lennox said, “We never let anyone come this far who hasn’t first committed to going all the way.”
I assumed he meant me.
“Lennox... I really––I don’t know what you mean...” I said, beginning to shake, and looking over the side of the lift. He had just warned me against something. What? Dallace and Camille’s smiling faces were gone. Instead, I was hanging over an abyss.
And then the large metal cable which supported us began to give way, giving that eerie whine of taut tearing steel. And––
“Lennoxlove...” I said.
We began to fall.
* * *
I woke from the dream––sweating profusely, tearing myself away from the memory of it. He had reached out for me, when the wind had whipped us apart. I could still feel his fingertips grasping for my own.
And then I looked around, groggy-eyed and confused, for I had just heard him. Here in my bedroom. Lennoxlove. And I thought for a moment he had come out of my dreams, a kind of hallucinatory experience I had not had since I was a child, when the world held a kind of charm which could only be interpreted as magical.
My eyes refused to focus. I continued to stare around in a confused sort of way. It was almost like raven song. It put me in mind of some fabulous dream; but I was awake, I couldn’t be dreaming. I saw him standing there, on the edge of my balcony––the French doors leading into my bedroom. I smiled incoherently, one of those lush smiles, when the things of your obsession seem to be on the brink of being yours. But also realizing that something was not quite right.
I felt my hair and did a quick breath test––my heart knocking uncontrollably.
Still, I was angry at Lennox for taking so long. He could’ve at least written to me. Becca and Mistress Genevieve had, and they were thousands of miles away. Yet with Lennoxlove, nothing.
“I invite you,” I said.
He stepped into my bedchamber, all hair and silhouettes. First his eyes, which were glowing like lavender lanterns, followed by the rest of him. The hallucination vanished; I was left staring at my hands in the dark.
The scene shifted. Lennoxlove was staggering over the hard and cracked earth. Everything about him, all the land and sky, had been scorched. Destroyed. The earth consumed in a poisonous fume. They were fighting. I could see witches and wizards, werewolves and vampires, and other things, besides. Flame erupted from the earth. There was shouting. Bodies moved through the smoky black murk. Vittoria... her eyes shining contemptuously from out of the dark... stared at me. It was like I was seeing from a great height. A terrible and ravaged plain. This would come to be.
This is what the world will be.... The vision changed. I saw the Hunter entering upon a heath––a dark ball of light shining in his hand, until I woke, gasping for air, feeling the bed springs creak. My mind exploded in a rush of stars. What was going on?
I crawled out from under the covers that had twisted themselves around me, still laying on my bed, fully dressed in my jeans and black sweatshirt, and fitted on my boots, listening to the sounds in the hallway.
<
br /> Shadows crawled along the ceiling of my room. Headlamps roved along the walls. It was the middle of the night. It was a moment before I realized where I was at.
I heard motorcycles outside. Voices. Lots of them. Revving their engines.
My head was spinning. I felt outside myself. If I didn’t move, it was almost like I wasn’t here.
In a trance, then, I fetched my helmet and got out of bed, walking to the door. I opened it just as Ballard was preparing to knock. “Surprise!” he said. “We thought you might be up for a little late-night skullduggery.” A pair of watchful, dark eyes, looked out at me from the doorway, down the hall. Vittoria was standing there, wondering what was going on. Ballard did a double take. She was dressed in her nightgown. Maybe he could sense she was my enemy. I told him to “c’mon.”
“Keep it down, will ya? Some of us are trying to study! Enjoy your dog walk,” she said, slamming the door.
Ballard again exhibited his strange connection to my landlady––she didn’t threaten him at all. Instead, just smiled. “I like you,” she said. “You good boy. Yes.”
“I just love her,” he said.
“Ballard, she’s insane. This place is insane.” I fit right in.
Vittoria–– What was she studying for?
I felt guilty. I should be levitating things. Instead I needed to buy more lightbulbs.
When I got down on the street, they were all there. Paolo and all of them... Gaven and Lia and Liesel and Leander and the rest of the wolf pack. Alphas and betas, commingling. All on their motorcycles. I looked for Locke but he was nowhere to be found... There must’ve been thirty of them, all in their helmets, astride their bikes, or else standing around, striking poses. The six nine of the six nine. It was inevitable in so much awesomeness I feel out of place. I stowed it––along with my uneasy feelings about my new neighbor. Vittoria living down the hall from me was just too much of a coincidence, didn’t I think? I wondered what she was up to. Then, about what it was about Vittoria that I did not like.
I settled on the fact that she had a flower-Mark, like mine––except it was onyx not silver. Was it that we had things in common, that I did not like? Vittoria’s virtue was either Grace or Goodwill, after all, the same as mine. Could anyone whose virtue was either one of those two things really be that bad? Yes, I decided.
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