I hope I’m convincing enough. If I don’t do this, this might not end well for Isaac and I can’t let that happen.
“You take care of business here,” Trajan says from behind, “let her and Aramei be alone for a time and then you can join her.”
“For how long?” Isaac says, his voice still heavily laced with disdain.
“That will be for me to decide when I am ready.”
Isaac doesn’t move or speak for several long, tense seconds, but I feel his entire body harden like stone against mine. The air around the three of us is rife with hostility, barely contained by Isaac. I’m surprised that his eyes haven’t shifted black.
He hates his father right now. I know that he loves him, but this is a different sort of hate and I can only tell what it’s fueled by, not what outcome it will inevitably cause.
Somehow, this realization worries me more than where I’m going….
I step carefully away from Isaac and his hand falls away from my wrist, his fingers lingering until they reach the tips of my own. As I make my way to the back passenger’s side door where I had been sitting before with Trajan, I hope that Isaac will contain his anger until we’re gone. Every muscle in my body is stiff with trepidation. And I try not to make eye contact with anyone; not Isaac or Trajan or even Harry who still stands at the top of the porch steps watching me from afar and I know holding back his own dire sense of urgency to accompany me. But Harry knows more about what will happen than Isaac could ever know. Because Harry knows my future. And everything that is happening right now is certainly part of the design, that road my life must follow in order to fulfill my destiny as a Praverian Charge.
If I was in any danger, Harry would know it.
What he’s doing right now is an act. I’m sure of it. Because he still must do everything he can to make those around us believe he is only human, my overprotective human best friend that knows nothing of destinies or futures or wars to be made.
I am destined to start a war. And it’s Harry’s job to make sure that I do it.
When I think of this, I’m sure to close my mind off to Harry because…I don’t want to be the cause of any war.
And I refuse to be.
~~~
The first half of the drive is completely suffocating. No one speaks, which means there’s nothing to distract my keen senses from all of the petty sounds and smells around me. The stench of gasoline burns my nostrils and my lungs. I can even smell the blood on the driver’s teeth from whatever animal…or man that he ate during last night’s full moon. I can’t seem to block out the constant grating and humming of the tires burning across the highway or the roar of the engine and the thunder rumbling in some distant thunderstorm. But worst of all, I feel suffocated because I’m trapped in this tin can with Trajan sitting next to me and every now and then I hear Aramei in my mind, struggling with whatever kind of life she is living inside that lost and lonely head of hers.
I don’t know what Trajan expects me to get out of her. More than that though, I’m afraid of what I might see. If I see anything at all.
“You’re hearing her now mostly through me,” Trajan says, facing forward.
I look over carefully. “Aramei?” I know he meant Aramei, but really I’m so nervous sitting here with less than three feet between us that I’m not confident in my own voice around him yet.
Trajan nods subtly.
“You’ll be able to connect with her fully on your own once you get there,” he says.
“Well, how am I doing it now?”
He glances over at me. “Her link is very powerful,” he says. “I believe you’re hearing her through me.”
“But I thought you said I was connected to her?”
“You are,” he says looking back in front of him again, “but so am I and I believe she’s using me as a bridge. I imagine once you are standing face to face with her, her emotions will flood your mind.”
I look away too, recalling how this very thing happened the last time I visited her and how much I didn’t like it. “They will,” I say softly.
I feel his eyes on me from the side. “Explain.”
“When I saw her last,” I begin, “I think she tried to communicate with me then—no, I know she did.”
“Yes,” Trajan says, still looking right at me which makes me all the more nervous, “Evangeline told me of your visit. That was the night in which my beloved began changing.”
I feel his eyes move away from me finally and then I turn my head to see him.
“Evangeline?” I say. “Is that Eva?”
“Yes, Eva has been my most trusted caretaker for Aramei for many years. But she grows weary and I expect she will die soon.”
My eyes widen a little as his strangely casual words catch me off-guard for a moment. But I can’t bring myself to say anything in response. Not sure what to say about something like that anyway.
“Well then,” I say, “What do you expect of me?”
“Whatever you can give me,” he says looking directly into my eyes which sends shivers through my arms. “I expect you to tell me everything you see in her mind, everything no matter how insignificant it may appear to you. Do you understand?”
The diminutive amount of confidence I had acquired over the course of our short conversation fades away in an instant with his demand. And I realize in this crucial moment that Trajan Mayfair, regardless of being Isaac’s father and regardless of needing my help to communicate with the love of his life, will never hold me in high enough regard to spare my life if I do anything to displease him. I know that our ‘conversations’ can never be mistaken for Trajan growing to care for me, or that he will ever see me as anything more than a tool to help give him what he needs more than anything. I can never let my guard down with him because the second I do, the second that I feel comfortable in his presence might be the time in which he turns on me and kills me.
I turn away from him, unlocking our gaze and I stare out ahead through the windshield and watch the landscape fly by.
When we finally arrive at the cabin, I’m as anxious as ever to get out of the vehicle and away from Trajan. The last thirty minutes of the drive he spent scanning the pages of a thick, old notebook, jotting down things that I assume had something to do with business and his leadership. Maybe it was about conquering packs and killing off rogue bloodlines. I don’t know, but seeing as how it’s Trajan Mayfair, I know he wasn’t writing poetry.
I step out of the Escalade and at first I’m afraid my head will be engulfed by Aramei’s emotions, but I sense nothing. The soft wind funneling through the surrounding trees is cool on my face. I hear the sounds of nature all around me and the familiar rushing of water crashing against the rocks in the nearby waterfall. It’s so peaceful here and I want to just stand here forever and bask in the comfort of it, but I know that in just moments there will be nothing comforting or quiet about my visit at all and I dread going inside.
Raul, the big werewolf guard who is a friend of Isaac’s, stands watch at the foot of the steps leading up to the porch. He looks different in the daylight, his smile more radiant and trustworthy, but the second Trajan steps out of the vehicle moments after me, Raul straightens his back, gripping the handle of his sword at his side and his smiling face stiffens into something much more military.
Trajan approaches and Raul and the other four guards standing nearby, all bow low at the waist and hold it for four seconds before rising back up into a straight position. Trajan doesn’t even look at them, but walks by them all without a word and slips inside the cabin. He leaves me standing out here among the guards, but I’m pretty sure he knows I’m not going to try running away or anything.
Raul’s posture loosens and so does his expression. A huge grin spreads across his face. “Finally tossed that pup out did you?” he jokes about Isaac.
I grin right back at him and, of course, play along because it might break his big, scary heart if I don’t.
“Yeah, I did, Raul,” I say
stepping right up to his giant form. “I just couldn’t get you off my mind.”
Raul’s grin deepens and he rolls his chin upward a little, looking proud and feeling sexy. I swear the big guy is blushing. But he’s not as talkative as I’ve seen him in my brief encounters with him in the past. Trajan is inside and I was brought here for a purpose, in which Raul probably feels it’s better not to delay. I step up and around him, letting his soft smile comfort me for a very brief moment before I head inside.
The cabin is unsurprisingly spotless, except for high up in the rafters where the servants can’t reach. The space smells richly of lavender and honey. I can hear water dripping from another room and the sound of the servant’s soft, bare feet shuffling throughout the cabin. I count five women dressed in long, sheer black gowns as always, tending to duties downstairs.
As I walk by, each of the servants stops what they’re doing and bows their heads to me. It feels awkward and I do wonder why they would feel the need to do that to me, but I didn’t come here to question the actions of servants.
I stand at the base of the wooden stairs that lead onto the vast open floor that overlooks this room below. And I take a deep breath before I place my foot on the first step.
I still can’t feel her, which strikes me as odd. But I soon find out why as I take the last step and enter the top floor. I look across to see her lying on the giant bed against the far wall, sleeping soundly.
Trajan stands in the center of the room with his powerful hands clasped in front, resting on his pelvis.
Evangeline, or Eva for short, approaches me and bows once in the same way the servants had downstairs.
“Tis’ good to see you again, Milady,” Eva says as she comes out of her bow.
I feel my eyes furrow with confusion, but still, I don’t spend any time inquiring about my own curiosities while Trajan is here. It just feels wrong and…unacceptable. But ‘Milady’? This just keeps getting weirder.
I nod to Eva as if to acknowledge her greeting, but really I have no idea how to go about all this formal stuff; it’s so completely foreign to me.
It may be early morning still, but the upstairs space is quite dark having only one small box window and it’s covered by a thin, white curtain. The light funneling in through the downstairs windows only spreads so far up here where the balcony seems to cut off most of the light, leaving the top floor bathed in semi-darkness. A few candles are lit throughout the room.
Feeling completely uncomfortable, I take a seat on the chair next to the little round table near the balcony and fold my hands nervously in my lap. To my utter shock, Trajan walks over and takes the empty seat.
I shift on the chair, straightening my neck and allowing my shoulders to stiffen. I feel his eyes on me, but at first I can’t bring myself to look directly at him. He feels so dangerous and everything about this entire series of events is unimaginable to me. I am a new werewolf, having suffered only two full moons. Trajan is…I shouldn’t be here.
A flash of the man’s face that Trajan killed in that cave so long ago sears through my mind.
I swallow air and look up to meet Trajan’s gaze, who looks back at me with such solid calm and deafening silence that I want to drag my nails across the tabletop just to invoke some natural noise.
But I sit as still as a statue, until finally Trajan breaks that silence.
“You are right to think me cruel,” he says in a composed, yet compelling voice.
I don’t say anything.
“I would never deny that,” he goes on, “but our ways are different than yours. They always have been. Humans are weak and those like you who were human before gifted with this power will always be human. You will never understand our ways, nor will you ever know the true depth of our existence.”
“Why don’t you enlighten me, then?” I say, and I don’t sweeten the poison in my voice. Surely he knows that he’s seriously offended me and despite being who I am and him being who he is, I can’t sit here and let him completely turn me into his submissive little tool.
A small part of me hopes he doesn’t kill me though.
“It cannot be told,” he says simply.
I lick the dryness from my lips carefully and look over at Aramei sleeping. The quiet starts to fall across the room again and then I say gently, “But what about Aramei?” And when I’m not thrown onto the floor with Trajan’s massive hand around my throat, I continue:
“She’s only human. Do you think of her as weak?”
“Yes,” he says and his frankness stuns me, causing my head to snap around to face him again. “Aramei is weak because she is human, but that does not mean I cannot love her.”
Maybe he’s right in saying that humans are weak. I think I may have in a small way just proven his point by assuming he had been trying to anger and offend me all along when that wasn’t the case at all.
I lower my eyes away from him and gaze back at Aramei.
“Humans are unnecessarily violent,” he says, “and vile and treacherous and foolish.”
“And werewolves aren’t violent?” I say. “And I’m sorry, but there seems to be a lot of treachery among your kind, too.”
Trajan crosses one leg over the other and rests his right arm on the table. His eyes stray toward Aramei who still hasn’t moved since we got here even though we aren’t making any effort to lower our voices.
“Only small pockets of our kind are treacherous,” he says, still looking out ahead. “All races of life harbor treachery. Violence? No, Adria, violence is hatred and callousness and folly. We are none of those. What you consider violence in our case is merely honor and survival.”
I really could go on and on about this with him, delving into why they have death-match fights and things like that, but I think I’m walking enough of a thin line with my defiant questions already. And something deep down tells me that he will easily have a worthy justification for anything I throw at him.
I hope he’ll drop it, too.
Trajan stands from the table and pushes the chair back underneath it.
“But I did not bring you here for conversation,” he says walking toward the bed where Aramei lay sleeping. “At least not with me.”
“What am I supposed to…I mean how exactly am I supposed to communicate with her?”
Eva has been standing near the wall all this time, so quiet and still I forgot she was even in the room. With her hands folded gently in front of her she takes two steps forward and bows her head in Trajan’s view. He simply nods and she leaves the upstairs floor, the sound of her soft bare feet shuffling quietly down the wooden steps behind me.
I look back at Trajan as he sits down on the side of the bed next to Aramei with his back to me. I pause for a moment, thinking long and hard about my next move and then I rise to my feet. Slowly, I approach them and make my way around to the side so that I can see both of their faces. Trajan reaches out his hand and brushes the length of Aramei’s cheek with the backs of his fingers. She stirs, but remains sleeping.
Trajan doesn’t look at me when he says, “I do not know,” and his admission numbs me. He tilts his head gradually to face me now, “But I’m sure you will figure it out.” He leans across Aramei and touches his lips to her forehead.
I just stand here, flummoxed. I want to say: What the hell do you mean I’ll figure it out? But the actual words never escape my lips.
Trajan rises from the bed and absently I move to the side to let him walk past.
“I will leave you now,” he says, looking back once, “if you should need anything, Eva will assist you.”
“But….” I can’t get the question out.
And just like that, Trajan makes his way down the steps into the vast room below and leaves me standing here. I didn’t expect any bonding between he and I, or much in the way of conversation, but I really didn’t expect to be left on my own without an inkling as to how I’m supposed to go about this, either.
Chapter 5
IT’S NOT UNTIL I
hear the front door shut after Trajan walks out, do I let myself snap out of the disbelief.
“He always leaves,” Eva says coming up the stairs.
My chin draws in slightly. “Wait…,” I say, putting up my hand, “did I just become Aramei’s new babysitter?”
A faint smile softens Eva’s face as she walks over to me. The long, see-through black gown she wears clings softly to her naked hourglass form; her dark auburn hair rests freely against her back like a wave of silk between her shoulder blades.
“I suppose you have, Milady.”
“Please don’t call me that.”
She stops in front of me.
“I mean…well, it’s just weird, y’know?”
Eva nods softly; her delicate hands are cradled just below her belly. “Very well. I will call you Adria.”
A failed attempt at a smile barely cracks my face. “Thanks.”
I let out a heavy breath and approach the bed, sitting down on the side of it where Trajan last sat. I reach out my hand and tuck my fingers under a long lock of Aramei’s light-colored hair. It feels so soft against my skin, the way I expected it to feel. I always did think of her as an angel and the way she lays here now, covered by a thin, white satin sheet and enveloped by her fluffy pillows so that her soft hair can lay feathered upon them, makes her appear even more angel-like.
I brush my fingertip across the bridge of her nose.
“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do, Eva.” I never look away from Aramei.
Eva steps up behind me and I feel her hand rest on my shoulder.
“Wake her,” she says, “and then perhaps you will know.”
There’s more in her suggestion than what she is letting on. It feels like Eva already knows what I’m supposed to do, or what might happen.
I stare down at the sleeping angel for a moment, admiring her beauty and innocence, forgetting that the only emotion I should feel for her is sorrow.
“Aramei?” I say softly.
The Ballad of Aramei Page 5