Wild Hearts

by Bridget Essex

  But I'm miserable as I cough a little.

  “I'm...oh, God. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to...”

  “I know.”

  “I'm so sorry.” I clear my throat.

  “Ella...” She chuckles. “A pretty girl copped a feel. C'mon. No harm, no foul.”

  In the darkness, my blush deepens.

  Pretty girl.

  I...liked the way she said.

  More than liked, really.

  I turn the words over in my head as we continue on.

  I'm thinking so hard about them, in fact, that I actually trip again. Just a little one: it's from not picking up my foot high enough to get over one of the exposed beams on the floor.

  But I'm far enough behind her that I can catch my footing by myself this time.

  I can her chuckle in the dark, low and smooth.

  It's...such a pleasant sound.

  It's...hypnotic, almost.

  I can feel my breath hitch in my throat. There's still a lot of adrenaline in me—it hasn't found anyplace to go yet, though I'm assuming that the crash is coming, and soon.

  But, for right now, the adrenaline begins to flow into my belly.

  It's warm and soft and begins to purr and pool through my body.

  Particularly between my legs.

  I try to even my breathing in the dark. Try to follow the slim form of her shadow ahead of me that in that darkness. Try to just concentrate on that and no particular feelings.

  But the thing is: you don't have to think about feelings.

  They just...happen.

  Whether you want them to or not.

  And the feeling that's rising in me...it comes unbidden.

  Though not unwanted.

  I like Silver.

  I...like her a lot.

  And it's happening fast, this liking.

  Very fast.

  Ahead of me comes a creak.

  For a heartbeat, I stand perfectly still, blood pounding in my ears. It's a little difficult to pinpoint exactly where that sound was coming from. Behind me? What if it came from behind me?

  But then warm light bathes the attic, and Silver stands in profile to that light, her shadow pronounced as she holds out a hand to me.

  “C'mon,” she says, voice warm. “We're here.”

  I take her hand, and she pulls me into the light.

  Chapter 15: Safe for Now

  “Hello, darling! Who's that you've got with you?”

  I blink from the sudden light as Silver tugs me gently into the room.

  I can only make out blob-like shapes in front of me, that and looming shadows, and it takes my eyes a moment to adjust.

  But when my eyes do adjust...

  I blink again.

  The room is small, but that doesn't mean anything in the grand scheme of things.

  Because every single inch of that space has been used.

  The walls are coated with pictures, affixed to the wall with sparkly tacks, old pins and painter's tape. The theme of the images is something I can't quite figure out from the first few glances. There are pictures of animals, of people, of places, of things. The wall closest to me has a photo of Elvis shaking his rump that's on the level with my gaze.

  There's so much antique furniture packed into the small space that upon entering the room...that's it.

  We can't go anywhere else, unless we're willing to climb on top of the jumbled, creaky mess.

  There are old couches, squished back to back and front to front, tables piled on top of each other in a jumble of wooden legs. Dining room chairs stacked to the ceiling, plush chairs heaped along the walls, and—in the very center of the room—a king size bed that's strewn with enough pillows that no princess would ever feel a pea through.

  And, in the very center of all this chaos...

  Sits a tiny old woman.

  I'm a firm believer that age is nothing but a number, but this woman looks like she might have ridden on the Titanic.

  And the Trojan Horse.

  She's built mostly of wrinkles and flowy, lacy fabrics. Her frizzy, wispy white hair stands out from around her head like a halo. She wears thick goggle-like glasses, and though she appears to be a hundred years old, give or take, she's sitting in the middle of the bed in a meditative position, her legs crossed easily beneath her, her hands palm up on her knees, and a very benevolent expression on her wizened face.

  She's currently grinning at us.

  “Hey, Fanny,” says Silver, shutting the door behind us. She starts to turn the locks (there are quite a lot of locks). “Sorry to barge in on you like this.”

  “Nah. Heard you comin',” the woman—Fanny—declares dismissively, waving a hand. “Heard that vampy comin', too.”

  Silver straightens after sliding a bolt into the floor at the bottom of the door. She crosses her arms in front of her, tilting her head. “Yeah, well—you don't have to worry about him anymore.”

  Fanny nods shortly, then adjusts her glasses. They're not exactly goggles—they're very thick spectacles with a loop of elastic around the back of her head to keep them affixed to her face.

  She peers at me, her grin deepening.

  “Hi, kiddo,” she tells me, beaming a primarily toothless grin in my direction. “Good to finally meet you.”

  “Um...hello,” I manage, glancing at Silver in confusion.

  She inclines her head toward me, gesturing to the little old woman.

  “Ella, please meet Fanny. She's your grandmother's sister.”

  “I'm your great aunt, kiddo!” Fanny hoots, then rises on the bed, bouncing a little in place. Since she's fairly short, she looks like a kid who's indulging in a bit of bed jumping. “Come on over so I can get a better look at ya!”

  “Come on...over?” I glance at the sea of furniture that stands between me and my new great aunt, but Silver's already stepping up and onto the antique dresser that's right in front of us.

  She offers her hand down to me, gives a wry smile.

  “Your family is a bit, um...eccentric,” she explains as I take her hand. Her warm palm slides over mine, her fingers grip my wrist gently, and she pulls me up to stand beside her on top of the dresser.

  “I heard that, missy,” Fanny calls.

  She is now, quite literally, jumping in the center of the bed.

  The springs in the mattress gasp and wheeze beneath her, the pillows bounce as high as she is, and I stare at my leaping great aunt, mystified...

  And bemused.

  “And I am eccentric. So is your whole family, kiddo—she's not wrong,” Fanny continues, bouncing toward the headboard of the bed. “But that's what magic does to ya, I suppose. Or being a werewolf. You don't have to give a shit about what anyone else thinks.”

  I blink, then find myself chuckling a little, in spite of myself.

  “Magic?”

  Fanny wrinkles her nose, looks to Silver. “Didn't you tell her?”

  Silver blanches. “I thought it'd be better for Marie to—”

  “Eh, this is important,” says Fanny, waving her hand. “C'mon over, kiddo.”

  I take a step from the top of the dresser to a stack of tables. Since the tops of the tables are flush against one another, the legs of the second table sticking up like posts, it doesn't present too much of a challenge.

  However, getting around the next heap of precariously perched dining room chairs presents a more complicated obstacle. I stand staring at it, my hands on my hips.

  “Don't mind the mess. The house was under siege,” says Fanny, gesturing to all the furniture around her as she ascends into the air like a spring-loaded rabbit. “I had to make sure no one was going to bother little ol' me up here.”

  Silver sighs and chuckles, shaking her head. She leaps lithely around the stack of chairs, then leans back, offering her arms to me.

  “Jump?” she asks me.

  There's a softness to her face now...I haven't quite seen this before.

  I can tell she likes Fanny a lot.

  I
can tell that, in this space, she's completely relaxed.

  I wrinkle my nose, gauging the distance around the chairs, then nod, bracing myself.

  I take a running step forward, into the air, across the gap in the chairs...

  And Silver catches me.

  Her fingers wrap tightly at the curves of my waist, her smile growing as she holds me aloft. My hands are on her shoulders, my feet suspended in the air, and as I look down at the soft smile at the corners of her pretty mouth, I can feel my heart flutter inside of me.

  Butterflies.

  She just gave me butterflies.

  When...was the last time that happened, exactly? High school, I think, I realize with a rush, and a blossom of heat in my cheeks. Yes, back in high school when I had a Very Large Crush on my friend, Anita. She was on the girl's soccer team, and I thought she was the greatest person I'd ever met, so intelligent and funny.

  Back then, falling in love was easy. I saw her, I liked her, I could imagine us together and I never did a damn thing about it.

  See how easy it was?

  It existed entirely in my head, and that was safe, secure...

  This...

  This is not entirely in my head.

  I don't think so, anyway.

  For her hands about my waist...they're strong. She holds me up for a minute longer than necessary...at least, it feels that way to me. I glance down at her, she looks up at me, and as she gently sets me down on the table beside her, her hands remain at my waist.

  And her smile...

  It deepens.

  So does my blush.

  So, Silver sets me down gently on the couch beside her, and then she stays put, offering a solid arm for me to press against. I grip tightly to her forearm as I climb over the back of the couch and, finally, onto the king sized bed. My fingers wrap around her upper arm, and I use it to push off and up, feeling the strength of her muscles beneath my fingertips.

  A thrill races through me, a ripple just beneath my skin. I shiver a little as I come to stand on the edge of the mattress.

  Silver is so...thoughtful.

  I glance over my shoulder at Silver, jumping over the back of the couch beside me.

  Her grin...

  It's infectious.

  And then Fanny's beside me.

  The woman is very small. She's an inch or two shorter than my shoulder, but just because she's small has nothing to do with out strong she is. Because she's suddenly gripping me tightly about the middle in the most powerful bear hug I've ever experienced.

  She looks up at me, her eyes twinkling through the thick glass, and then she takes a step backward, looking me up and down, her small, wrinkled hands gripping mine fiercely.

  “Damn, honey—it's so good to finally meet you,” she breathes, and there's such open enthusiasm in her words that it kind of surprises me.

  And delights me, too.

  “It's...it's nice to meet you, too,” I tell her.

  She tugs me down to a seated position on the bed, and I fold my legs beneath me, becoming pretty comfortable quickly on the surprisingly soft mattress.

  “So, I'm not going to beat around the bush,” says Fanny, raising a hand. “Your grandmother should have sent for you a long time ago.” She ripples a shrug through her slight shoulders. “But that's neither here nor there. She wanted to respect your mother's wishes, and your mother's wishes were that we'd have nothing to do with you.”

  My throat tightens, and I glance at Silver, who gracefully sits cross legged on the mattress beside me.

  She glances my way, her eyes glittering with sympathy.

  “Not that we're the worst family, mind you,” says Fanny with a sigh. “But your Ma wanted to prevent you from becoming a wolf if she could help it. She thought you'd be safer that way. And she wanted, above all things, for you to be safe, honey.”

  Hearing Fanny talk about my mom...it shouldn't evoke such powerful sorrow in me. At least, I wish it didn't. But a wave of sadness washes through me, and I close my eyes for a heartbeat, two, willing the tears not to rise.

  I open my eyes and the lights in the room stand, bright and sharply pointed at the edges.

  I clear my throat.

  “It's...this is kind of hard for me.” I fumble.

  Fanny makes a sympathetic noise and pats me on the head. It's not condescending—there's a great deal of warmth to it.

  “I can tell you've got the Rivers magic to you, kiddo,” she says. “It's obvious in you. And that's why your mother wanted to keep you safe. That's why she put the lock on your heart.”

  “Magic. You said that earlier.” My brows furrow. “What did you mean?”

  Fanny flicks a gaze to Silver, then sighs long-suffering, like she shouldn't have to be the one to do this. “The Rivers pack isn't like other werewolf packs. There's a slight difference to us. All of us possess magic,” she tells me.

  Her voice is flat.

  There's no emotion to it.

  She's...not telling a joke.

  I blink.

  “Magic,” I repeat, and then I flick my gaze to Silver.

  And Silver gives me a small smile.

  And she holds out her hand.

  I gaze at her palm, and my throat tightens.

  There, swirling in a small circle, a sphere of light rises from her skin.

  Light.

  Wait...

  The light on her fur.

  The light that just destroyed the vampire...

  “Oh,” I whisper quietly.

  “Your mother put a lock on your heart to keep you from your wolf self...and your magic. She wanted you to have a normal life, darlin',” says Fanny quietly. “But the thing about locks is that they don't last forever. The deepest parts of ourselves can't be locked away. We're always going to become who we were meant to be. It's just a matter of time.”

  I don't know what to say. I'm silent for a long moment—everyone's silent.

  “I'm...I'm sorry, I'm just really overwhelmed. There's this whole history I didn't know about my mother, this whole family I didn't even know I had. And...I mean, magic?” I breathe out. “This...is going to take some getting used to.”

  The way Fanny puts her head to the side and smiles kindly just then...

  I can see my mother in her.

  I can see the relation.

  And this, too, breaks my heart.

  “I'm sorry, kiddo,” she murmurs to me, reaching out. Her warm palm is as soft as a feather, and her touch is light as she pats my cheek gently. “I'm sorry you're sad. I'm sorry it's hard. But we don't have a lot of time. I want you to survive this.”

  My eyes widen. “'This?'”

  She wrinkles her nose and sighs. “Folks want you dead, darlin'. And you've got to stay alive.”

  That's not the sort of thing anyone wants to hear.

  Ever.

  I glance at Silver. She has her head to the side, her chin pillowed in a palm as she gazes at Fanny. Her lips are pursed into a firm, unhappy line.

  This isn't news: Silver already told me that folks wanted me dead. But hearing it from this new-to-me relation, in this strange room, in this strange building...

  Well.

  It's hard to take in.

  As if sensing my overwhelm, Fanny sits back on her hands on the bed. She's fairly spry (as if the jumping on the mattress wasn't evidence enough) for someone her age. “I'll stop overwhelming you with new information, give you some time to process all of it. Anyway, I just stayed behind to make sure you got the message.”

  “Message?” Silver's tone is hard as she glances at Fanny in surprise. “What message?”

  Fanny's already standing, bouncing in place as she holds out her hands to me. I hesitate before I grasp them, and then—with a shocking strength—she pulls me up from sitting on the mattress to stand beside her.

  “They're expecting you at the River Compound.”

  I blink, flicking my gaze from Fanny to Silver. “What now?”

  Silver's jaw tightens. “Are thin
gs really so bad?”

  “Not...necessarily. But it's better to be safe than sorry.” Fanny shrugs, squeezing my hands before she lets them go. “I stayed behind, because if we'd tried to get a message to you any other way...well, we couldn't be sure that they wouldn't intercept it. So I volunteered. It wasn't any skin off my back, anyway—you know this place is protected.” She smiles and gives an affectionate pat to the closest dresser.

  Silver sags a little.

  She did not stand when we did.

  “When are we expected?” she asks.

  She sounds tired.

  “Well. As soon as you came. Now would be good.” Fanny places her hands on her hips and stares down at Silver with wide eyes. “Why, youngster...you look beat.”

  “I am beat,” Silver murmurs, running a tired hand over her face. “In order for Ella to believe...well...everything...I had to transform her.”

  Fanny stares down at Silver, then looks to me, eyes wide behind her goggles. “You did what?”

  Silver's jaw is set. “I broke the lock. Got her to transform from human to wolf. But the transformation didn't last long. I wasn't strong enough to do more than a few minutes, but even doing that much wiped me out completely. I've slept since then...but I'm exhausted...” She trails off. Her voice sounds hollow.

  Fanny places her hands on her hips and sighs.

  “Well...” She waves her hand around. “This place is shielded until I say so. I can keep the shield going overnight, if you need time to recover.”

  I blink. I'm almost afraid to ask, but I ask it anyway: “uh...shield?”

  “It sounds like what it is. I can put a shield of energy around rooms and keep them off of folk's radar, so to speak.” Fanny gives me a grin before she wiggles her fingers at me. “That's why your grandmother wanted me to stay here to talk to you. No one was ever gonna find me. And I can keep the shield going while you two get some shut eye, and when you leave, I can drop it.”

  Silver closes her eyes and breathes out before nodding. “I hate to ask you to do it, Fanny...” Her voice is low, ragged. “But—”

  “Don't even worry, kiddo.” Fanny crouches down and pats Silver on the shoulder before straightening and doing a little hop, skip and a jump to get across the bed. “I'll just be headed out. We'll expect you tomorrow morning then?”

  Silver nods, grimacing. “Can you put a shield on my car, too?”