“Let’s not elaborate on the details of Rachel’s rumors,” Isaac says next to me, already sensing the anger it’s causing me and the inevitable retribution.
“No, I want to hear this,” I say, leaning up between the front seats even farther. “What has she said, Nathan?”
He glances back at me once before putting his eyes back on the road.
“It’s just Rachel,” he says, “and they’re just rumors—don’t stoop to her level on account of childish rumors.”
“Oh, but they’re not childish,” I say, “and you know it. Harry just said that most of them don’t believe our excuse anymore. This could cause problems.”
I feel Isaac’s hand rubbing my back, trying to soothe me and it’s working. He switches from his palm to his fingertips and chills attack my body all over.
“Let them believe what they want,” Isaac says, now moving his fingers to the back of my neck and I practically wilt.
“I agree,” Harry says. “This could buy us some more time.”
“But I can block my thoughts,” I say, though my tone isn’t as abrasive as it was seconds ago.
“Yeah, doll, you can,” Nathan says, “but you’re still new and it might be easy for a Praverian to penetrate your thoughts regardless of how strong your mind wall is.”
“Well then let’s put it to the test,” I say, rising up fully again.
Isaac’s hand stops in the center of my back.
I look over at Harry. “Try it. Read my mind.”
Harry just looks at me for a brief moment, shrugs and then gets down to business. I actually feel his mind trying to penetrate mine and it’s very different from another werewolf. A wave of heat energy begins at the top of my head and spreads down the back of my neck leaving my skin feeling warm and tingly. My right eye begins to twitch, but I manage to calm it only to have all of my focus concentrating on a tiny growing spot of painful cold in the very center of my forehead. The spot begins to spread outward and my vision doubles, but I still manage to hold Harry’s intrusion back. I’m struggling, but the longer I hold it, the less I feel Harry’s power and eventually it fades away completely. When I feel my mind is light again, I release my focus and just stare at him, hoping he won’t tell me that he still got in regardless of my efforts.
I look at him, waiting impatiently.
“Well?” I urge when he doesn’t answer fast enough.
“You have a strong wall,” Harry finally says and then he puts his back against the door of the Cruiser so he can see Isaac sitting behind him. “I couldn’t get in.”
Isaac nods absently a few times as if in deep thought.
“I’m not saying that I should go back to being the social butterfly,” I say, “but I think getting back to some normalcy is better at hiding our secret than keeping me away from everyone and giving anyone reason to wonder what’s really going on.”
“She’s right,” Nathan says. He pulls onto an entrance ramp and the Cruiser speeds up as we hit the freeway. “But you have to be careful,” he adds looking at me through the mirror again.
I rest my back against the seat and snuggle up closely to Isaac.
“I know,” I say, “and I will.”
“So…any clues as to who might be the traitor?” I say.
Harry turns around to face the front again, but it seems more out of disappointment than for comfort. “Nothing,” he admits. “So far, everybody checks out. I haven’t stopped invading their minds since this all started and still nothing.”
Isaac reaches over and pulls my legs onto his lap and I curl up even closer to him, resting my head in the wedge of his arm.
“But this situation is a lot different than the one with Genna,” Harry goes on. “Genna was hiding her presence from everyone. The traitor I doubt is doing the same thing because Adria would probably have seen him or her, too. This person is right out in the open and considering the fact that there are no humans in your house,” he looks over at Nathan briefly, “I think it’s safe to say that the traitor is a werewolf.”
“Wait,” I say, “you mean like an actual werewolf? No illusions or anything like that?”
Harry leans slightly around the seat to see me and he nods. “Yep,” he says. “Our bodies are human; we can still become what you become. Being what we are doesn’t make us immune to anything but disease and old age.”
Nathan laughs. “Apparently, you’re not immune to old age, either—who do you feed on anyway, Harry?”
“That’s a good question,” Isaac says.
I just look back at Harry without verbally adding my own obvious interest in his answer.
“I go to the hospital,” Harry says and then looks right at me and adds, “And the nursing homes—you’d be surprised how many elderly people are willing to let us drain them.”
I shudder at the thought of it and then I say, “You tell them?”
“Sometimes,” he says with a slight shrug, “can’t hide from them because they’re already so near death and I personally don’t want to lie to them and tell them I’m an angel—most of them think that at first.”
But then Harry cuts the conversation off abruptly and I get the feeling it was bothering him a little.
Harry goes back to the important matter, “But since disease and old age are also two things that werewolves are immune to, if one of us were to become werewolf, we wouldn’t need to feed as often to stay young.”
“So what are you saying?” I ask.
“Just that if the traitor is also a werewolf, it knocks out another tool I might’ve been able to use to find out who he or she is.”
“Leaving you no bread crumbs,” Isaac says.
Harry nods. “Exactly. Two of the ways in which I would’ve been able to pinpoint the traitor—feeding patterns and someone Adria could see that no one else could—are useless.”
“So then what’s left?” I say, feeling more and more defeated and exposed.
“Sheer luck if we want to smoke it out safely,” Harry answers with heavy abandon. “And we have to smoke it out safely.”
I sigh heavily and meet Isaac’s gaze. He looks as concerned as I know I do.
Chapter 3
BACK AT ISAAC’S HOUSE, the first thing I do is hit the shower. We had gotten all of the blood off my body in the creek, but by the amount of reddish-brown flowing into the shower drain, we only managed to wash away about five percent of the blood from my hair.
I think about my two transitions as I stand in the shower and let the hot water batter my skin. I remember the excruciating pain, the way my skull literally split in half. How my ribs each snapped one by one in fast succession and how I thought I was going to pass out from the pain. But I couldn’t. I remember trying, holding my breath for so long, hoping to cut off the flow of oxygen to my brain so that I could just collapse and not feel the pain anymore. But I know now that I’ll never be that lucky.
And I also know that I’ll do everything in my power to keep from shifting between moon cycles. I’ll be damned if I ever let anger or lust get the better of me, sending me right back into that violent and cruel and unforgiving transformation. I may not be able to control a full moon shift once a month, but I won’t let it happen when the rest of the month it’s all in my hands.
Of course, I say that now, but deep down I know it won’t be easy, to hold back the rage, to refrain from being seduced by lust. If it were easy, everybody would be doing it. This makes me wonder just how much easier it will be for me to stay calm in angry situations. I know there’s more to it than just doing Yoga or converting to Buddhism.
This worries me a great deal.
I get dressed, thankful to toss that hideous granny gown in the garbage and head to Isaac’s room to find Daisy sitting with him. It’s obvious that I walked in on a conversation because their words cease in an instant and Daisy’s face lights up when she sees me.
I try to act nonchalant, but at the same time I’m way too curious to let it slide.
I hug Daisy bac
k as she slips her arms around me and at the same time I say, “What were you two talking about?” I’m looking right at Isaac standing next to the bed.
Daisy pulls away and smiles at me, tilting her blond head gently to one side, which makes her look all the more innocent. “Oh, honey,” she says, letting her fingers fall away from my elbows, “it’s nothing really to worry about.”
I smile back at her, but I’m not giving up that easily and she knows it. “Well then there shouldn’t be any reason to keep it from me then.”
The two of them glance at each other as if to say quietly, Guess she got us on this one.
Isaac moves over to me and he’s half grinning, half concerned and I don’t know whether to be worried, or not.
He nods toward the bedroom door and hooks his hand around my elbow. “Come on, we’ll show you.”
I look back at Daisy once, hoping her expression might reveal something more telling than Isaac’s, but she’s even better at hiding the severity of a situation than he is.
What is this all about? I really hate this….
I walk with them down the stairs and into the large den where Rachel and five of her minions meet us halfway having come from outside. Rachel sneers at me as I pass, but I ignore her as usual. She really isn’t worth my time and now that I have to discipline my anger more than ever, I probably should just stay away from her altogether. I’m not scared of her. I’m scared of the transformation.
Isaac takes me past the kitchen and into the back hallway where the door leading into the basement sits. I catch the scent of funky moisture and mildew and rotting wood before Isaac even opens the door. I hate it down there. It’s like being locked in an eighteenth century dungeon, complete with shackles and rats and thick rock walls dripping with filthy water and every creepy-crawly one can imagine.
The wooden stairs creak and moan underneath our steps as we descend into semi-darkness. The air is always cooler down here, but I would take the sticky heat of a Georgia summer over this dank, raunchy air any day. It’s not until we make it down the last step that I realize it’s not as dark as it should be. There’s an out of place swath of light coming from somewhere in the large basement far behind the staircase, bathing the partial stone and wooden floor in a dense, eerie gray glow.
Daisy comes around in front of us and smiles at me sort of…apologetically. But before I have the chance to make my impatience known any more than it already is, we step farther into the room and I see where the strange light is coming from.
“What the—?” I start to say, but I just cut myself off and stare out at the massive hole in the back of the basement, the massive hole in the so-called thick rock wall that I always thought of as the equivalent of reinforced steel. The hole is…well, probably about my size in werewolf form and leads right outside into the back area of the house. It’s the only spot in the basement wall not surrounded by earth.
I look at Isaac and Daisy back and forth, my mouth slightly hung open.
“I’m just going to assume I’m the one that did that?”
Isaac’s eyes crinkle around the edges and his mouth stretches marginally into a hard line. “Yeah, you sort of did that,” he says carefully.
I cringe. “Sort of did it?” I say. “There’s nothing sort of about that.” I point at the hole as if they don’t already know that it’s there. I let my hand drop to my side and walk over to the new basement exit, stepping around chunks of rock scattered all around the floor.
At least the view is nice. It’s a beautiful summer morning and the breeze is cool filtering through the trees that surround the house. The sun is shining and only a few white cumulus clouds hang in the sky.
After studying the jagged edges in the giant opening and letting the stun fade from my head I turn around to face Isaac and Daisy.
Isaac is grinning faintly again, enough that I can detect it, but it’s almost as if he’s trying to hide the fact that this somehow humors or delights him.
“And what’s so funny about this?” I say looking directly at Isaac.
Daisy is smiling too, but at least she’s trying to be understanding because clearly I’m not finding anything about what I did humorous or delightful.
“Well, it’s not exactly funny,” Isaac says, his lips lengthening into a smile even more evidently. “It’s just that…well, it’s hot.”
My head feels like there’s a spring in it as it jerks inward and my eyes crease under wrinkles of perplexity. “Hot?” I say. “Hot as in hot-hot or sexy-hot?”
Daisy is suppressing a giggle behind me, but I don’t take my eyes off Isaac who has some serious explaining to do. I put my hands on my hips and I’m sure I look like my mother did when I was little, but I don’t care.
“Sexy-hot,” Isaac says. He moves in close and places his hands on each of my shoulders, cocking his head to one side. Oh great; there’s that irresistible grin of his that causes me to fold every time. “Obviously, this is how you escaped last night. It’s hot because you’re stronger than any girl I’ve known who was Turned and not born a werewolf.”
He must be mistaken. That’s absurd.
I look back at the wall opening and say, “It was just a weak wall.” Then I turn to see Isaac again. “This is an old house.”
He kisses my cheek and says afterwards, “I told you about this, remember?”
“About what?” I say, and I really can’t recall just yet what he’s referring to, but somehow I know it’s about to be an Oh, that! moment.
“About females often turning out stronger than males,” Isaac answers.
“Oh, that…,” I say, stepping away from him.
I’m not as laid-back about this news as they clearly appear to be and Isaac detects it right away. I turn my back on him and walk back to the opening in the rock wall and step out into the partial sunlight.
I hear Daisy and Isaac whispering to each other, but I’m too involved in my own thoughts to wonder about what they’re saying. Besides, when Isaac joins me outside and I hear Daisy’s footsteps fading as she goes back up the basement steps it’s sort of obvious they were agreeing that Isaac should ‘take it from here’.
I turn to look at him immediately, letting my arms fall back at my sides. “Okay, so where am I supposed to go every month if there’s no basement to shackle me to?”
Isaac lets out a sigh and his shoulders relax. It’s as if he had been trying to figure out exactly what was bothering me and realized too late what should’ve been obvious in the beginning.
“We have a month to figure it out,” he says. “It’s really not an issue.”
“Isaac, I could’ve hurt…killed someone last night.”
He steps back up to me, raising my chin with his fingertip. “We’ll fix it,” he says. “And before you say it, I mean the situation, not the basement wall.” Another grin creeps up at the corner of his mouth and I can’t help but smile a little.
I go to kiss him until the sound of rocks and earth grinding under several sets of tires funnels around to us from the end of the driveway at the main road. Isaac’s gaze is solely fixed on the back of the house as if he’s staring right through it to see who’s pulling into the drive. That intense look etched in his expression instantly has me on edge.
I feel his fingers slip through mine and then his grip tightens around my hand. Before I even think to ask what’s going on, we’re walking around the side of the house and into the front yard where three 4-wheel drive SUV’s and one massive black Escalade are pulling up to the front of the house. My heart is hammering inside my chest and I don’t even know who’s inside the vehicles yet. I have this feeling in my gut, twisting my insides into knots and it’s telling me that I probably don’t want to know.
Standing just at the edge of the front of the house, Isaac reaches out his hand and carefully pushes me to stand behind him instead of at his side. I don’t argue.
“Who’s that?” I whisper harshly.
“It’s my father,” he says quietly, never taking h
is eyes off the vehicles.
Figures pile out of the SUV’s; tall, brute men that I know aren’t really human. I count twelve of them who each take up a position in the yard and around the house. One in particular walks right past Isaac and me to stand watch at the back of the house. My eyes lock on him as he walks by and for a moment I can’t look at anything else, my mind is lost in theories of what this could be about. Trajan doesn’t come here often and I can count the times I’ve seen him at this house on one hand, but never has he come here with an entourage. And I’m a little discouraged that Raul, the ancient werewolf soldier whom Isaac is good friends with, isn’t among them. Seeing him might have made me feel better about this. Maybe. Okay, probably not.
The driver’s door opens on the Escalade and another guard steps out wearing average clothes like the rest of the guards: dark jeans, tight-fitting t-shirt and black biker boots. He moves to the back door and opens it and Trajan steps out. He is always more handsome and intimidating and frightening than anyone in his company. I can never understand how someone can seethe so much power, how he can put fear in the hearts of men simply with the turning of his gaze or the solemnity of his expression.
I said before that I don’t fear anything, but that was a lie. Trajan Mayfair, or rather Lord General Vukašin Prvovencani, is the one I fear.
But why is he here?
I step up closer behind Isaac, watching the scene from the view around his shoulder.
Isaac bows his head as Trajan locks eyes with him, but Isaac doesn’t take his hand from behind his back which holds onto my arm protectively. Trajan stops only a few feet from the Escalade and folds his hands behind him on his backside. And suddenly I feel his gaze on me. I don’t just see it I feel it, like he’s under the surface of my skin, raging like a fever. I swallow hard but the knot in my throat just won’t go down.
“Father.” Isaac says in greeting.
I hear the front door of the house open and several people from inside come out onto the porch, but I find myself focusing on something…someone else. I hear a delicate, steady heart beating, the rise and fall of soft breaths. I can smell the sweetness of musk oils and vanilla and lavender heavily on the air. My heart falls when I realize that Aramei is somewhere inside that Escalade. It’s like I can feel her inside of me, I can taste her on my lips and hear her heartbeat underneath the sound of my own. My throat begins to close up with tears, but I’m stronger now and I force them back into the deepest part of my chest.
The Ballad of Aramei Page 3