Hidden Carmina

by Adri Sinclair

  Negotiations

  The Moretti family, along with our whole clan, is gathered in the courtyard. Liam looks broody and Esmeriska holds Margarith in an embrace.

  “It was never meant to be this way, Margarith. I am so sorry.” Margarith takes a step away when Lilly and Jarrod appear from the house.

  “She said she’ll be out. Momma, Carmina is… more.” Lilly’s hands motion in front of her as if waving over a tall, invisible item.

  “More what, Lilly?” Will asks brusquely, “What do you mean more?”

  “Just… more. I don’t think we’ll ever tame her hair again.” Lilly says, as if that should explain and validate exactly what she’s trying to tell them.

  Jarrod wipes over his face, giving John a handshake. “Thanks for fetching us.”

  “I couldn’t face the red-haired fury alone when she gets her bearings,” John points to the menacing looking Liam, “not to mention keeping that mess in check by myself. He’s got it bad.”

  Jarrod’s grin spreads over his face, he cannot help but get pleasure from Liam’s discomfort but he confides in John, “Fair warning, John, I think she is ready for a full out war…”

  John rubs his hands together as if he’s just heard the best news in the world. “Then we have a challenge dude... uh, Jarrod” he says, hearing his mother’s hair rustle close by.

  When Carmina opens the door, the silence is overwhelming in the courtyard. Her eyes are blazing with a green tinted fire, suspiciously narrowing to slits as she search the faces. Her head tilts to the side as if listening to something. It becomes rather clear what Lilly meant about Carmina’s hair and Carmina being more. It looks like a wild fire threatening to spread out of control. Carmina has a strange aura of confidence, poise and grace. Something is different about her and it is hard to figure out exactly what it is.

  Carmina searches the faces of the people in front of her, focusing on each one of them, listening to their thoughts one at a time. She hears their concerns, their worry for her, their love… for her. Then her eyes fall on Liam and she roars.

  “Uh-oh,” John steps towards them but it is Lilly’s hand over his chest that stops him.

  “This, John, is not our fight.” She points to Liam, “It is his, I believe.”

  Carmina’s walks to Liam is deliberate, her steps steady and calculated. She puts her hand out and Jarrod fills it with a snowball without questioning the wisdom of doing so; a well-rehearsed action on both their parts to anyone looking on.

  Uncle Will snorts and Momma inhales loudly. Carmina’s other hand goes up, and the women in the courtyard all tie their hair back. Liam is frozen in his tracks, confused. When the women move as one to tie their hair, distracting Liam’s attention, it is the exact moment Carmina was waiting for. The snowball flies faster than he could turn back his gaze and hits him square in the chest.

  “Negotiation,” she hisses at him, “is now resumed, Wolf boy.”

  “Yeah, I think she’s upset with him,” John snickers, pushing his elbow into Jarrod’s side.

  Liam does not move; his eyes stay on Carmina, who is still holding the attention of every clan member along with his. He licks over his lips not sure what to expect from this tiny ball of bewitchment threatening him with a snowball. The humor does not escape him but there is a serious undertone in the behavior from the clan, and he is not going to provoke the girl any further.

  “Momma!” Carmina calls over her shoulder, twisting her palm up as if to call Margarith as witness to an inquisition. A few paces away from Liam she stops but does not look away from him.

  “I see you, my child.” Margarith acknowledges the request from her daughter

  “I am my mother’s child.” Carmina hiss at Liam. “And my mother is….?”

  “Margarith, daughter of my creator and father, William Johnathan Moretti, Ancient and leader of the Moretti Wolf House along with Esmeriska Irena Moretti.”

  Carmina shakes her hair and waits for her mother’s verdict.

  “Truth, my child.”

  Carmina turns her hand palm down by way of thanking Margarith, lowering it to dismiss the need of her Mother’s witness.

  Margarith leaves the floor as the custom requires and leads the family to the furthest wall, quickly explaining to the rest of the Morettis what is going on. This is how the clan has settled more than one disagreement or upheaval. Margarith named it the “cool down” system: one gets all the aggression out by pummeling snow balls at each other and, when you’re done, you sleep on the matter. In the morning, you talk over your problems and resolve it amicably. If not… Margarith will mediate. Most of the time it works out well. In summer it is a game of dodgeball. However, as Carmina is unpredictable right now, these are not strictly Margarith’s rules.

  “If I want to learn more, will you teach me?” She pushes her chin to Liam.

  “What do I get in turn? You said we’re negotiating!” He barks back at her.

  Carmina’s face twists in an evil little smile and asks, “What do you want in turn, Wolf boy?”

  Liam charges at her but Carmina is ready for him. The snowball hits him in the shoulder and she rolls towards the rest of the clan. She tips two fingers up and the family starts grinning, picking up snowballs.

  Liam stops in his tracks and growls at her. “Your study to happen on my turf!” He shakes the snow from his shoulder and starts a semi-circle around Carmina.

  “The rest of the negotiations will resume … later.” She hisses at him again. Carmina flows flat onto her stomach, flicking the two fingers she’s lifted as if pointing out a direction. From the ground she watches with her chin in her hand as the snowball fight erupts around her, all guns firing at Liam. When Carmina rolls off to the side, she finds herself wedged between Margarith and Esmeriska.

  “I can never hate you Momma. You saved my life. We’ll… need time.”

  Margarith hugs her daughter and whispers: “I love you.”

  “I know.”

  Esmeriska joins a huddle around the pair and pats Carmina’s back.

  “You have a … what did you call my son? Wolf boy…. Yes, one of those is heading your way.” Esmeriska must have seen the look Carmina’s face and because she cracks up laughing in her beautiful chime-sounding manner. “Adopted. All will be explained. The only blood family here is your Mother and her father – Will.”

  The two women move out of the way as one and watch Liam grab Carmina by the wrist, whirl her into his body then pick her up over his shoulder, marching her off.

  “He is taking her to his cabin. She is shattered and we agreed she needs a short separation. I wanted to tell you but…. Well, you are here.” Esmeriska states inconsequently, waving her hand over the courtyard shambles.

  “Where did Pops go?” John asks, out of breath.

  “He is home, consulting with the other Houses. It was a Gello’Des who came here.”

  Margarith puts her hand to her mouth, but it was too late. Lilly had overheard.

  “Are you sure?” Lilly snarls.

  “Yes, and it looks like you may have your day after all.” Jarrod speaks calmly to his wife.

  “She revealed our nature to Carmina. She thought Carmina already knew.”

  Lilly’s grin is a contradiction to her usual serenity; her mouth twists wryly as she walks away without a word.

  A Dens and Wolves

  Liam puts me down when we reach his cabin.

  “Wait here,” He says, going back outside.

  I hear a faint static crackle and then find myself looking at the same black and red wolf from earlier, padding into the room. I freeze in place. If it wasn’t for those searching eyes… I look around me and then sit down on what I assume is the bed. I watch as the big wolf apparently approves and jumps in behind me. I realize I am unequivocally exhausted. I cautiously lean back against the warm body behind me, wondering why he is so hot! I get comfortable and fall asleep to the sound of the soft heartbeat under my cheek. My dreams escort me to my inner sanctum:
my painting room where I see Liam silently sit on the outskirts of my space.

  He brought me back, just like he promised. There is so much to work through, so many questions unanswered. Not now. I settle into a rhythm of expressing myself with colors and patterns and peaceful silence.

  Time in this dream-space is almost absent. When I open my eyes, I am surprised to find it is still dark out. I don’t move much, wallowing for a while in the blissful state of mind. I feel the soft fur under my cheek and yawn.

  “Hello, Sleepyhead,” The thought floats into my mind.

  “Hmmm,” I answer out loud.

  “Mother brought you clothes and food. She’s changed the study for you into a room…” He let the words hang in the air.

  “Hmmm,” I answer aloud again.

  “Are… you still mad at me?” he asks tentatively.

  “I don’t know…” I answer honestly. I feel him move out from under me and fall back against the bed. I reach for a pillow and pout.

  “You should eat.”

  Instead of answering him, I pull the pillow over my face. I don’t want to move. My body is aching and stiff and I feel hot and sticky. When he does not speak again, I peek out from under the pillow and listens to the sounds surrounding us.

  I can hear the soothing crackle of a fire from somewhere inside the house. I turn my head, lifting away from the pillows. I can hear ice falling from the roof, thudding down just below. I can hear a small animal scratching into the snow. I hear birds far off singing a noisy song. I hear heavy footfalls, listening to them stop and then a thud, followed by a crunch and several smaller sounds flopping into the ice, and again, and again. Is he chopping…wood?

  I try to sneak out of bed but get tangled in a sheet and slam facedown on the floor, one foot still hooked conspicuously on the side of the bed. Just. My. Luck.

  “Carmina, are you alright?”

  “Mind your own business! And stay out of my head!” I grunt towards the door. When I feel a flash of intense hurt while he fades away from me, I regret having said that. What is wrong with me? I close my eyes against the feeling and roll onto my back to untangle myself. The reel did not work and I open my eyes to see what can be done. Sat on his heels, is Liam, hovering over me. He’s not laughing or smiling but his eyes are filled with those tiny little flecks like devil forks.

  “You going to help or just sit there?” I ask, embarrassed.

  “I am going to mind my own business.” He mocks.

  “Fine.”

  I sit up, but the corset is a little restricting and I can’t reach my leg. I try kicking and pulling and twisting my leg and, in pure frustration, I let out a sulky scream.

  “AAARGH!”

  Falling over backwards, I lay there with my hands thrown up next to my head. Liam is still sitting there emotion- and expressionless. Except for those eyes.

  “I’ll… go draw your bath for you then? Let me know when you slay the sheet-beast.” The taunting in his voice scrapes at my temper like a match to tinder.

  “Help me, you bully!” I shout at him.

  “Ask nicely.”

  “Liam Moretti!”

  “Yes, Liam Moretti! Help the lady!” I hear John’s laughing voice burst through the door before he does. He’s at my side and ripping the sheet away neatly, swirling it in the air.

  “White flag, my Lady!” he offers. I push him as hard as I can out of my way and storm down the passage looking for the room Liam mentioned earlier.

  “Hell Bro. How you do it is beyond me. She’s spitting mad at you, ah-gain… how do you do it? You ready for hunt? Mom and Dad are just outside …. ?”

  “Yeah, I don’t know what I’m doing… I suppose … She needs her space.”

  I can hear the scribble of pencil on paper and howls rising up outside. Static fizzing sounds fleetingly pass by and then it is silent again. I recognize the sound now as them changing to or from their wolf shapes.

  I take my time organizing the room to my liking. I drag the desk to the window. Lady E has outdone herself with this room. It feels warm and comfortable and the colors on the wall are neutral. On the one end of the room is a big modern couch, with a small side table. Against another wall is an empty bookshelf with wardrobes on either side. There are pictures on the wall of both families taken over the past month. I clamber onto the desk and sit there watching the snow fall outside. I wonder what it is like on these hunts of theirs.

  Would they mind if I … tag along? What do they hunt? I close my eyes against the stream of questions pouring out into my mind. I need to get through one thing at a time, and right now that one thing is this newfound ability to… speak inside my head with them, and listen to thoughts. It is so intrusive; I don’t like it. I also don’t know how it works and it is bothersome.

  Habitually I look at the moon and roll my eyes. Guess I will go have a shower instead. Getting up lazily, I open the wardrobes to find a selection of all my favorite outfits. Eventually tracking down my preferred set of winter PJ’s and go in search for the bathroom. I really ought to thank Lady E; she’s really done me a huge favor.

  The bathroom is a big and roomy with fresh towels against the walls. The shower is enormous and I don’t have to wonder why. The tub is equally as spacious. There are no mirrors and nothing else but a toothbrush on a stand. My bathroom bag is there on a side cabinet. Underneath it is a note; I recognize Momma’s handwriting.

  Shortly after the tub is filled I reach for the papers. I decide not to use the hearty “Hidden Carmina” fragrance in Liam’s cabin without asking him first. I sink into the tub and open the letter.

  “My Dearest Daughter,

  I don’t know where to start, or even what to say.

  I want you to know that there are things you will learn going into the future, and not all of them will be pleasant. I wish I could have spared you the history and the nightmares that are still to come, but alas I can’t.

  If you know nothing, my lovely child, know that we all did what we thought was safer for you.

  Only time will tell if you can ever forgive us for keeping this secret – there are laws that prevent the revelation, but know that each and every one of us are standing with you in this.

  You are family. WE are family. And no matter if you choose never to trust us again, if you choose never to be part of our lives…. Gods forbid…. We will always stand as a family unit with you.

  I include the full story of your Biological Mother. I think it is time you know about yourself and your own history.

  Please forgive me, forgive us.

  Love.

  Margarith Nightshade,

  Momma.”

  I close my eyes, my trembling hands rustling the papers. I don’t want to know my history. I know it already. My mother found me, she raised me and no amount of history can change that. I am safe because of her. I am alive because of her. Do I want to question that? No.

  I pull Momma’s page from the front and dunk the rest of the letter in the water. I get out of the tub, getting dressed without drying off properly. When I’m done, I scoop the mushy, ink soaked papers from the water and throw them in the bin.

  “Not Smart” and “Stubborn as ever.” I wave my hand dismissing the two voices. I refuse to think about the missing third. I climb back onto the desk and watch the sunrise, letting tears flow at will, taking a lot of the tension with them.

  Attitude Lesson

  When Liam arrives back at his cabin, he expects to find the usual aroma of ‘Hidden Carmina’. Instead what he smells is a sweet, clean scent of the woman he loves. It takes him, in a hungered frenzy, to the door of her room. He stops at the closed door, standing with his head against the frame, listening to her heartbeat and the stifled sobs. He clenches his fists in frustration, stopping just short of hitting the wall. With effort, Liam turns away and heads to the bathroom for a shower. When he opens the door, he has no control over the growl that rumbles from his chest and into his throat. He can smell her and taste her on the air an
d it is trying to force him back to her room.

  “How long will I last?” he speaks quietly to himself, knowing that there is no answer to the question.

  On his way back to his own room, Liam stops again to listen to Carmina. He lifts his hand to knock but halfway changes his mind. She will show when she’s ready. His mother told him not to force any interaction. Carmina has a lot to deal with. Liam heads outside, standing dead still in the snow, watching the day move past him. The hole in his chest is stinging worse than ever. Several times he fights the urge to simply go back in there and take what he wants. He knew it would be difficult, he didn’t know it would be a constant battle.

  Around lunchtime, his frustration is unbearable. Marching himself inside to the kitchen, he is caught off guard by Carmina sitting at the table having lunch. He does not speak to her when he thrusts past towards the fridge. Eventually he closes the door, rubbing his hand through his hair and letting it rest in the nape of his neck.

  “How… How are you feeling?” He asks without turning to face her. Carmina turns in the chair and regards him with an unnatural calm.

  “Fi--” she starts and jumps, visibly shaken when he pushes both hands forcefully into the fridge door.

  “Do. Not. Tell. Me. You’re fine!” he growls between gritted teeth. Still, he does not turn to face her.