THE COUNCIL had never discovered the Liettes’ cabin, and so the location remained a safe refuge for Charles and me to stay with the kids. Adrian found a place in Kutsugata and visited often, bringing us food and supplies. Living more than a few miles away from the common trails did have its benefits, though. It was quiet here. Even the supernatural noise was minimal.
I leaned back in our porch swing with a cup of iced raspberry tea and a newspaper I couldn’t read. Sometimes the kids would read it to me, try to teach me the language, but today they were sleeping in late. Sometimes they went into hibernation for days at a time, storing energy to channel messages from the Universe.
Charles emerged from the house. “Adrian stopped by last night while you were sleeping. Said Paloma checked in on Ivory, and she is doing well. Doesn’t seem to remember anything more than necessary.”
My heart sped at the mention of Ivory, and my breath caught in my throat. Her name had been lingering around the edges of my mind for months, but I hadn’t heard it spoken aloud since I learned she was the one who had informed the Council of Charles’ true nature.
“You okay?” he asked.
I smiled, setting the paper aside. “I still worry about the future.”
“Most people do.” He cleared his throat, and when I looked up, his gaze was steady on mine. “I haven’t forgotten.”
Before I could ask him to confirm what my heart already knew he meant, I picked up the thoughts from his mind. He was ready to become a pure Strigoi.
Though we had come to trust the children over the months—especially once Charles had found a letter from his mother that explained everything—we hadn’t spoken of our plans to turn him to a pure Strigoi. The kids would be able to guide us through the process, but I’d feared bringing it up would rekindle Charles’ pain. I’d never wanted this choice to be decided for him.
“When you’re ready,” I said.
A small grin tugged at his lips. “All those months you pestered me, and now you say when I’m ready?” He extended his hand, and I accepted, allowing him to pull me into his arms. “You really drive me crazy sometimes.”
I smiled against his chest, then peeked up into his deep teal eyes. He opened the screen door behind him and backed into the cabin, tugging me after. The closeness of his body sent a warmth into my stomach, and I pressed up on my toes and kissed him, nearly knocking him the rest of the way into the house. The screen door flapped shut and a picture frame on a table near the door fell over.
“I need a shower,” I said, feeling a little sticky from the heat. “Want to come with?”
Charles’ grin broadened. His hands slipped down to my hips as we headed down the hall to the bathroom.
I peeled off my sweat-soaked jean capris and white eyelet halter-top, and we hopped into the shower together, enjoying these moments where we could simply be ourselves. Simply be together.
After our shower, I changed into a bikini and some lightweight denim shorts and pulled a wide-tooth comb through my hair. Charles headed out to meet Adrian while I flopped down on our bed to read for a bit. When the front door creaked open, I doggy-eared the page I was on and set the book aside.
“Hello?”
No answer.
“Charles?” I asked aloud.
I could pick up on Charles’ presence, but not Adrian’s.
I threw my legs over the side of the bed and headed into the living room. Lauren was standing just inside the threshold of the cabin, suitcase beside her feet and birdcage in hand. Rhett must have flown her over if she was able to bring Red. Something told me he much preferred flying humans.
I rushed the last few steps into the main room. “No one told me you were coming!”
She grinned. “That’s because it was a surprise.”
“A surprise?” I looked at Charles. It must have taken a great deal of concentration for him to plan this without me finding out. I’d totally fallen for the whole Adrian thing.
“You’ve been trapped up here too long,” Lauren said. “You do remember what a surprise is, don’t you?”
I hugged her tight, probably squeezing the life right out of her, and she held the birdcage away. Charles took it from her to set on the coffee table, and Lauren and I sat down, jumping right into conversation as though we’d never been apart.
“How about that hike?” I asked.
“Charles carried my suitcase and the birdcage,” she said with a wink. “You’re lucky you have Superman on hand if you insist on living up here. How do you guys do it?”
“Eh,” I said. “We manage.”
Lauren still didn’t know the real reason we were here, and she never would. We’d told her a partial truth several months back: that Charles’ parents had died in a car accident and that we’d adopted their kids to raise as they would have wanted them raised—here, in the Japanese mountains. She didn’t question it.
“I’m going to visit my family while I’m here,” she said. “I can’t tell you how much this trip means to me. To get to finally go see them for myself, to let them see me for who I am, and to get to see you. Belle Meadow isn’t the same with you gone. Your mom asks about you a lot….”
“Oh?”
Lauren frowned. “You haven’t told your parents about the kids, have you?”
“We’ll tell them when we visit.”
Which would be when, I didn’t know. I knew what Mother would say. She’d put on her best condescending voice and ask, ‘Are you sure you’re ready for such a huge responsibility?’
As if she had any place to talk to me about responsibility.
I’d tell her no, that I wasn’t sure, but that sometimes life gives you responsibilities you aren’t ready for and you have to go with it. You have to do what needs to be done, and nothing else matters.
One day, I’d work up the nerve to have that conversation with her, but, for now, I still had some resentment to work out.
Lauren pushed herself up from the couch. “I’d better unpack.”
“And I’d better help Charles finish getting dinner ready, or we’ll never get you fed.”
I met Charles in the kitchen and sidled up next to him to help wash and dry fruit for a cobbler. He popped a slice of peach into my mouth and gave me a kiss equally as sweet.
“You’re my family now,” he said. “We can only go forward.”
I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him. He rested his hands on my waist, just above the curve of my hips. The last traces of the sun disappeared behind the mountains, but tonight there were no shadows across my heart.
When dinner was ready, Lauren carried some wooden bowls and spoons outside to the small picnic table while I brought the freshly-baked bread, and Charles followed behind to set a spicy vegetable stew on the table.
Aspen and Autumn joined us, carrying Red out in his cage, which they set on a large, flat stone beside the table. The children sent their thoughts to me—the only way I could read their thoughts at all—and told me the bird was safe to be released. They had used their magic to ensure Red’s presence wouldn’t harm the natural wildlife of Japan.
I opened the cage door, and Red peeked out. I realized then why I’d always been so drawn to him. Grandpa Parsons had once kept a pet cardinal, one who would sit on his armchair when we visited in my childhood years. Grandpa Parsons would tell me all the ancient myths and legends that his family had once shared with him.
Over dinner, I shared one of his stories—the German legend of the Holy Family:
“There was a time when the world was left in a natural state. It was Autumn, the time of the harvest. The trees were viewed as living beings, not cast down to clear way for modern buildings as they are in our time. Even in those times, there was a hierarchy of importance in life. So it was with a sense of greater value that the Holy Family traipsed the forest trail. The soil shifted beneath their feet, the flowers swayed as they breezed by, and the trees bowed, but there was one family of trees that did not yield in reverence. The Aspens. The Ho
ly Family cursed the trees, and their leaves began to tremble. And that is how the Aspens became known as ‘the shivering trees’.”
I probably missed the moral when my grandfather told me the story as a small child. Even now, it held a different meaning to me than to most, though it was only natural that everything would be interpreted differently in the context of my new life.
Aspen and Autumn—they were with me now. Perhaps Grandfather Parsons had some gifts of his own.
As I finished my story, Red strutted out from his cage. After a final chirp, he ruffled his feathers and took flight, soaring aimlessly over the yard before settling on the branch of a nearby cherry blossom tree.
We were home.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Rebecca Hamilton writes Paranormal Fantasy, Horror, and Literary Fiction. She lives in Florida with her husband and three kids, along with multiple writing personalities that range from morbid to literary. She enjoys dancing with her kids to television show theme songs and would love the beach if it weren’t for the sand. Having a child diagnosed with autism has inspired her to illuminate the world through the eyes of characters who see things differently.
To learn more about Autism Spectrum Disorder, please visit: http://www.autisticadvocacy.org
Visit Rebecca’s website at: http://www.beccahamiltonbooks.com
If you’d like to show additional support to the author, review this novel on www.Amazon.com or www.Goodreads.com.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
COVER ART PHOTOGRAPHY:
Rune Hammelstrup | http://hammelstrup.deviantart.com/
COVER ART MODEL:
Maria Amanda Schuab | http://mariaamanda.deviantart.com/
FONT CREDITS:
Quicksand Book, Trajan Pro, Wicked Grit by http://ajpaglia.com/ and Chicago House font by ‘theoriginal19’
EDITING CREDITS:
Sol Stein and Toby Stein for their early guidance in honing my style and voice, Leslie Holman-Anderson for her amazing critical eye, Angela Zoltners and Lynnette Labelle for their comprehensive support, and Stewart Kirby for his fantastic copy-editing service. Thank you also to everyone else who contributed, most specifically R.P. Krall, Jennifer Sosniak, Joan Ford, Christi Goddard, Noelle Pierce, and S.M. Boyce.
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