by K.N. Lee
“I’m only doing this because you’re in a bad way, and Dad asked me to,” she sniped. “But don’t you think about getting handsy.”
“Has that happened before, when Leighton has friends around?” Rafael asked with a raised eyebrow.
“A fool or two has found himself with some singed parts. Let’s put it that way.”
“Marradith. What happened to your parents? Your Father and Mother?”
She put down his boot. Rafael covered his throat, fearing that she would reach for her knife. “How can you say such a thing to me? Do you really not remember?”
Something changed in her eyes. A glimmer of a child. A girl she used to be.
“I thought maybe you were acting, but you’re serious. How hard did you hit your head?”
“I don’t know!” Rafael said. “Everything’s….odd right now. I’m not asking these questions to upset you, really, I need to know. Please don’t tell Leighton I asked you, but just tell me, where are Paul and Nora?”
She sat down on the edge of the bed, with her hands in her lap. “They’re dead.”
“How…?”
“It was made to look like an accident,” she replied softly. “A car accident. Leighton says The Sojourners were behind it. The last time you saw me was at their funeral. How can you not…?”
“I will heal,” Rafael said carefully. “This is just a bad night for me.”
“Seriously? You don’t want to show any weakness when the rest of them get here.”
“Who are you talking about?”
“I think I’ll let you figure that out for yourself,” she snarled, pulling off his second boot. “I have better things to do than play word association with you, Rafi,” she said, and left the room. As the door closed behind her, he wondered how he could have missed asking her the most important question. Where was his wife, Fiona?
“How’s Rafael?” Leighton asked.
“Sleeping, I guess,” Marradith said. She sat down on the couch beside him. “The rest are coming
tomorrow?”
“By morning. You don’t have to stay up waiting if you don’t want, darling,” he said. “You look a little tired yourself.”
Rafael’s talk of her parents had stirred uneasiness in her. She rarely spoke of them, and living in Leighton’s house, it almost felt as if they’d never existed. There were pictures, but none were displayed around the house. There was an emptiness when she thought of them, an ache that nothing seemed to replace. As kind as Leighton could be at times, he was not her Father.
From what she remembered, her own Father had a tense relationship, with little contact with Leighton. But he’d been good to her. There hadn’t been anyone else for her and Danny to go to when her parents died. It was easier for Danny, in a way. He was four years old when the accident happened. He had little memory of Mom and Dad. It was Marradith and Scott that had trouble adjusting to the new order of things. Once Scott was of age, he took Danny away with him. Marradith remained with Leighton. She hadn’t seen either of her brothers in a few years.
“I think I will go to bed,” she said. “I don’t guess anything exciting is going to happen tonight anyway.”
Once Marradith was in her room, she stood with her back against the closed door. A shadow moved beside her window. She smiled and checked the lock. Justin moved out of the shadows towards her, closing the distance between them in three long steps. He grabbed her and they tumbled onto the bed together. She whispered in his ear while he kissed her neck.
“I thought you weren’t coming until tomorrow,” she said, her lips brushing his ear.
“Yes, well, change in plans,” he replied, tugging at her bra. He expertly unhooked it and ran his fingers along her spine.
“We’re going to get caught!” she whispered. She giggled and shivered.
“I. Don’t. Care,” he said between kisses.
She sighed, taking his face between her palms. “Baby. You seem to forget I’m about to marry someone else.”
That stopped him. He rolled off of her and stared angrily at the ceiling.
“Marradith…”
“Look, I’m only stating the facts. Everything’s already planned. The wedding is only a few days away.”
“You’re not marrying Bruce Green.”
“Why shouldn’t I? He’s rich.”
Justin propped himself up on one arm, so he could study her face. “You really have the nerve to say that to me? I love you! How many years has it been, we‘ve been sneaking around? You can’t tell me this is anything but Leighton finding the man most like himself for you to marry. I’ll kill Bruce before I ever see you become his wife.”
She sat up, punching a pillow and putting it behind her back. “Well if you’re going to kill him, why not wait until after I’ve married him? I’ll be a rich widow,” she smacked his lips. “Won’t you love me then?”
Justin shook his head. “Unbelievable.”
“Don’t be mad. I do love you,” she teased. “And we only have so much time.”
Justin’s eyes glowed green when he looked at her. He put his palm flat against the nape of her neck, holding it there. The anger in his voice made her cringe. “I’ll see him dead. Or Leighton dead. Perhaps, both.”
“No you won’t. I know better,” she said, and kissed his mouth. His arms came around her again. She had him where she wanted him.
Rafael woke the next morning, sitting on the couch, his clothes and socks still on. He wasn’t sure where he was at first, and memory flowed back slowly. He was in Leighton’s house. Marradith was living with him. What was this place? He stood and stretched, feeling the awful tension in his muscles. There had be a way to find out what happened. He felt clearer, but wasn’t sure how he got to this place. The last thing he could remember was leaving Colorado to go to New York.
Looking at the snow outside, he could surmise that he was again in Colorado. But this house was not the estate that Marradith had inherited, where he’d been living with his wife and the Ryder family. Ryder House had been home to at least fifty or so support members: guards, technicians, housekeeping staff. This place was a much smaller home, and so far, he hadn’t seen any staff at all.
And in this place, Leighton was not dead.
The sun was out already, almost blinding against the ice. The previous night’s snowfall was beginning to melt already. In a few more hours all that would remain of it was a wet, nasty mess. Marradith emerged from the front of the house. She had a huge German shepherd on a leash. He pulled against the restraint, panting, tail wagging as he pointed his nose down towards the snow. She raised a finger at him. The flash of electricity was almost too small for Rafael to see from the distance, but he heard the dog yelp in pain when it hit him. The canine sat down and waited then, watching his mistress with wide, frightened eyes as she turned to lock the front door. She still has powers over electricity, and probably fire, Rafael thought. Another good reason to be careful around her. He’d only gotten a small taste of her strength the day before.
“Come on, Spike,” Marradith fussed, yanking the canine’s leash. She disappeared around the corner of the house with the dog in tow.
In the adjoining bathroom, Rafael found a change of clothes and a shaving kit stacked neatly on the edge of the sink. He riffled through the bag. It looked suspiciously like the expensive leather kit Fiona bought him years ago. But the contents were completely unfamiliar. The razor was new. The aftershave was a brand he had never used, and did not recognize. The kit was much like everything else he’s encountered in this place so far-- familiar on the outside, but holding completely different contents. The clothes were not familiar, but looked like something he might select for himself. His reflection in the mirror startled him. His hair and clothes were a mess; he looked like someone who routinely slept outside.
After a shower and shave he felt better. But the shower revealed his bruises. They were all over his body. Some were burns. Others were cuts, made with what he guessed was a serrated blade by
the length of the scars. They didn’t cause him pain, but were recent injuries. There were bruises as well, large blue spots on his ribs and back made by blunt force. What happened to him? Maybe something traumatic did happen to him on the way up to this house. But how could he explain how everything around him now was so different than before? Was he losing his mind?
A car accident would be an easy explanation for the bruising. Marradith had found him face down in the snow, and assumed that his car was stalled somewhere on the road. He’d like to go down see if his car was actually there. What if there was no car at all? What if he appeared here, where everything he knew seemed to be upside down? It would take strong magic to transport him to a different dimension, one existing alongside his own. He could only think of one, maybe two people that were capable of it. Rafael was a strong warlock himself, but he’d never attempted to manipulate time….it was a dangerous thing to do and he didn’t have enough hubris to believe such meddling would not result in terrible consequences. And if he was here by magic, how was he going to get himself out?
He went back to his room, and busied himself with getting dressed. Putting his boots back on, he was thinking about what his next move should be when the door opened.
Marradith was taking Spike for his morning walk when she saw a car turning up the drive to her great grandfather’s house. She recognized the black SUV. Feeling her heart drop, she turned back towards the house. There was no avoiding her fiancé. He’d parked up at the top of the drive, and walked down to meet Marradith at the gate. Bruce Green smiled behind his sun glasses. He wore an expensive Armani coat and a navy blue suit beneath a long wool coat of the same color. His curly blond hair was perfectly coiffed.
“Darling,” he said, and stretched his arms out to her.
She went to him and they kissed. Marradith thought about what Justin said about Leighton choosing a man much like himself for her to marry. It was understood that she would marry one of Leighton’s men from the time that she was a young girl. It was the order of things among Wolves, and even though Marradith was of mixed blood and not a Wolf herself, she was expected to become a mother. Her children would continue the family line. According to tradition, the mother did not need to be a Wolf herself, as long as the father of her children was.
Bruce was a Wolf, one of Leighton’s pack. He was clean cut and always expensively dressed. Leighton was never that type of man; her great-grandfather, a Wolf for well over two centuries, still appeared to be in his late thirties. He wore his hair long and shaved when it suited him. His clothes were usually worn jeans and faded shirts. Leighton cut back on the drugs that he took because his girlfriend demanded it, (which was the only good thing Marradith could say for her). She always teased that he was really a hippie.
What it really came down to, Marradith believed, was that Leighton was threatened by Justin. Unlike the other Wolves that Leighton made, Justin was never afraid of him. When all the others cowered or lowered their eyes in shame, he stood firm. Despite what the consequences might be. This was part of what attracted her to him. He had a strength and determination that the other men simply could not match. Bruce would lavish her with gifts when they married, give her anything material that she wanted, no matter the cost. But there would always be that part of him that remained beholden to Leighton, the part that thought of her as the boss’ daughter, and would respond to his prompting.
“I’ve missed you,” Bruce said warmly, his breath making clouds in the cold air. “Have you checked your phone?”
“Phone?” she muttered absently.
“Yes, I sent you a message last night.”
Marradith felt her cheeks grow warm. The mention of the previous night brought back images of Justin in her bed. He’d left the house just before dawn, sneaking away through the shadows. She could still remember his lips on her, his hands wandering her body. The thought of him made a little shiver run through her body that had nothing to do with the chilly morning air.
“Um, no. I went to bed early. It was a long day. And Rafi…” she thought about his apparent memory loss, and decided it best not to disclose his odd behavior. “He had a little much to drink. You know how he and Leighton can get.”
Bruce chuckled. “I do.”
“Well, don’t mention it. I’m not supposed to tell,” she teased.
“I won’t. I’m supposing everyone will have to be dry tonight, though.”
“Why?”
“Oh, I’m sorry, I forgot, you haven’t been around for one of these before. I remember you said Leighton usually sends you out of town when he’s ready to Feast. On the nights when we go out to hunt,” Bruce said, “we tend to stay sober. Alcohol does weird things to you if it’s in your bloodstream when you Change.”
“Hunt? I thought this was just a Circle meeting.”
“It’s that too, but you know how Leighton likes the Old Ways,” he said. “But I’m surprised that he didn’t mention it. The hunt is being held in your honor.”
“I see you’re up, Rafi.”
Fiona stood in the doorway.
Rafael rushed at her, pulling her into his arms and kissing her. It was a moment before he realized that she was not hugging him back, or that her lips remained flat on his. He stepped back and looked at her.
“Am I missing something here?” she said primly.
He shrugged, taking another step back. Of course, this woman was not his Fiona, his wife. “No. I seem to be the one who is missing a lot of things.”
He saw the tattoos on her skin first. The ancient scrolling started at her wrists and went up along the length of her arms. These were the markings of Graymoor, a sect of Shapeshifters who believed in their supremacy over other beings. In the world as Rafael remembered it, Fiona had left the Graymoor before her coming of age, and never received the markings that identified her as a member of the sect. The tattoos would be visible to other Shapeshifters, even when she took another form. He had been married to Fiona for five years, but his lover for too many to count.
Fiona stood before him with a placid expression. Her eyes held no warmth towards him. Or at least none more than the perfunctory kindness given to any stranger out of kindness.
“I hope I didn’t offend you,” Rafael said quickly. “You’re looking beautiful today.”
A smile crossed her lips, despite the distrust he saw in her eyes. “You look well.”
“So, why did you come up to see me?” Rafael said. He was doing his best to play along, even though the sight of her was painful. He wanted to pour out all his thoughts and secrets to her but he knew that was unwise.
“You amaze me. The last time I saw you was years ago. And that one time was long before Leighton. You can’t just pick up and pretend we were a couple or something. I heard you had a bad night. So I wanted to see of the clothes and things I left for you were alright.”
Before Leighton? Rafael felt like the air had been sucked out of his lungs. The thought of Leighton touching his woman…..
“Everything’s just fine,” he snapped.
“I thought I’d offer you some breakfast. The rest of the men have started to arrive, so you might as well come down and be civil.”
“Do you live here?” Rafael asked.
“Not that it’s your business, but no. I can’t put up with his granddaughter.”
“I can’t imagine,” Rafael paused, re-thinking his tact. “She’s a good kid. Why don’t you get along?”
Fiona laughed, a sweet sound to his ears despite the circumstances. “Are you kidding? She’s a self-centered little brat! I know she’s had a hard life and all, her parents dying when she was still so young. But she clings to Leighton like a lifeline. I suppose he’s the only person in her life that hasn’t up and disappeared. That useless brother of hers is gone. In some ways, I can’t blame her for how she is. I just refuse to put up with it. But that’s all about to end.”
“End?”
“Well, of course. Leighton is marrying her off. She’ll have her hu
sband and her own home. So once that’s done, I’ll be moving here permanently.”
She turned and walked away, closing the door softly behind her.
“I’ll be damned if I let that happen,” Rafael whispered.
“Leighton!” Marradith screamed.
Leighton, sitting in his study smoking a pipe, opened a window and put the pipe in his desk. With Fiona around, he didn’t want to get caught with his favorite brand of medicinal herb.
“What is it?” he said as Marradith came into the room. “Why are you screaming?”
“When were you going to tell me about the Hunt?” she demanded.
“Well I was hoping that no one would ruin the surprise before all our guests are here.”
“I’m not as ignorant about the Old Ways as you think. A hunt in my honor on the eve of my wedding? This had better not be what it sounds like.”
He stood up. “And what if it is just exactly what it sounds like? What do you think you can do about it, Mari?”
“There’s a reason that they call the Old Ways old. It’s a barbaric tradition and I won’t submit to it.”
Leighton laughed. “What is wrong with you? These are Wolves. Of course it’s barbaric! Do you think that you’re above them, because you are a hybrid? With your vampire and witch blood besides?” He gripped her chin, but she turned her face away from him. “You, my darling, are a sublime conglomeration of all the basest creatures. Even humans can be savage. I see it in you; you are more my child than either of my sons ever were. So you’ll do this. You’ll be a queen amongst them. A brutal, excellent Pack Mother.”
“I was promised to Bruce,” Marradith said, her eyes filling with angry tears.
“The first rule you must learn as a leader,” Leighton said. “Is that promises are only meant to keep people quiet. Use what other people want to get what you want,” he said.
“You’re serious?” Marradith stepped away from him.
“Bruce will just have to earn his place. If he’s worthy of you, then he has nothing to be concerned about,” Leighton said coldly. “We’ll see how this all shakes out.”