Five: A Maor Novel (Maor series)

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Five: A Maor Novel (Maor series) Page 30

by Caroline Greyling


  A familiar, refined voice and an equally familiar touch on my forehead interrupt my sleep. I open my eyes and nearly fall off the window seat.

  Mom?’ I squeak.

  ‘Oh, my baby-girl!’ She responds, pulling me into her firm embrace. She rocks me gently back and forth for a while, like she did when I was much younger, squeezes tightly, then leans back to take stock of me.

  I take the opportunity to do a little stock-take of my own, noting the dark circles beneath her eyes, the linen-suite that seems to sag on her frame and the stiffness with which she leans toward me.

  ‘You’re here…’ I say, unnecessarily.

  She gives me an amused smile.

  ‘Well, of course I am, baby. I came as quickly as I could.’

  ‘But – they said - it was iron, mom.’

  Her smile fades and her gaze drops to the bandage at my shoulder.

  ‘Guess we’re both just lucky that we’re a little more human than we are Maor.’

  She reaches out and gently strokes the bandage. ‘I can’t believe we almost lost you again.’

  ‘Again?’ I frown and mom’s eyes lift to mine. ‘What do you mean, again?’

  She mirrors my frown with one of her own.

  ‘Kael said you had remembered. The night of the fire -’

  ‘It’s been coming back, slowly. There are still some holes.’

  ‘That’s strange,’ mom says, almost to herself. ‘It shouldn’t be wearing off like…’ She pauses, and shakes her head. ‘We’ll talk about it later, you need to rest.’

  I snake my hand around her wrist before she can stand.

  ‘No, I want to know. Now.’

  ‘Shaylee…you’re not -’

  ‘I’m not strong enough to stomach anymore secrets, mom,’ I whisper. ‘Just tell me.’

  She lets her gaze travel over my face and lowers herself back to the window-seat beside me.

  ‘The night of the attack, you were -’

  ‘- Upstairs, asleep while Kael’s parents were murdered. Yes, I know all that. What aren’t you telling me?’

  Mom sighs and takes my hand in hers.

  ‘You woke up and came downstairs -’

  ‘- Looking for you, yes, I know -’

  ‘- and you saw Kael though the window. You saw him out there and you just lost it. You ran outside, into the middle of the fighting. I tried to pull you inside but you were screaming and then -’ Mom’s voice sounds thick and she pauses for a minute to regain composure before she continues. ‘Warren tried to pull you back, but you refused to go to safety. You broke through the circle of fire and one of the Weres attacked you. Warren jumped in front of you but the iron pierced right through him, into your stomach. ’

  My hand goes involuntarily to my midriff as mom continues:

  ‘You nearly died, Shaylee. That’s why we left. I couldn’t stand to risk losing you again and now -’

  ‘It’s okay, Mom,’ I whisper. ‘I’m okay.’

  I’m okay, but Kael’s parents aren’t. There’s no more uncertainty. I am responsible for the deaths of Kael’s parents.

  Mom blinks back tears and squeezes my hand in hers.

  ‘Why can’t I remember it?’ I say. ‘I mean, I can’t remember much about those first few years…’

  Mom glances down at our hands and then back up at me, but she doesn’t look me in the eyes.

  ‘You were so young, baby -’

  ‘No more secrets, remember?’ I say.

  She glances up, searches my face and sighs.

  ‘It’s a memory spell.’

  ‘A what?’

  ‘The Circle thought it best if you didn’t remember. It was such a traumatic time and they wanted to help you -’

  ‘Help me?’ I whisper, feeling the blood drain from my face. ‘You mean they erased my memories?’

  ‘No!’ Mom says quickly, ‘they’re not erased baby, just…blocked. Not a strong enough block, it seems…’ She says the last part under her breath, but I hear it and glance sharply at her.

  ‘Don’t look at me like that, baby,’ she says. ‘You have no idea what it was like.’

  ‘Um, yeah – because you blocked my memories!’

  ‘Trust me, it’s better that way.’ She ignores the hurt and disgust in my expression and shakes her head. ‘I have to live with those memories and they haunt me every day.’ Her expression darkens with a hint of desperation. ‘I can’t go through that again, baby. I can’t lose you. No more risks. We need to get you and Tristan married quickly.’

  ‘What?’ I sputter, stunned at her chain of thought.

  ‘I know you would have preferred a spring wedding, but a fall one can be just as exquisite, think of all the colours and -’

  ‘Stop, mom!’ I say, pulling my hands away.

  She pauses and stares at me.

  ‘What’s wrong, baby?’

  ‘Are you serious?’ I shake my head, slowly. ‘I nearly died a few days ago and all you can think about is getting together a shotgun wedding for me with a stranger?’

  ‘He’s not -’

  ‘I’ve barely known him a few weeks, mom.’ I shake my head and glance away in disgust. ‘I don’t know why I thought you’d be on my side.’

  My mother grasps my chin and bears her emerald eyes into mine.

  ‘I am on your side, Shaylee,’ she says. ‘The side that’s keeping you alive.’

  I stare back at her, into the grim determination reflected in her eyes. I feel strangely deflated, like I do when she gives me one of her speeches about dancing not being a real career and making sure I have some real studies to fall back on. Only, this is worse…

  ‘Nan said she wouldn’t force me. She gave me a year to decide,’ I say softly, feeling suddenly exhausted.

  ‘That was before -’

  ‘You’re not on the Circle, mom,’ I say. I see hurt flash in her eyes at my words, my I continue: ‘It’s not your decision. Actually, it’s not their decision either. It’s mine. Only mine.’

  ‘Shaylee -’

  I turn my face toward the window and shrug away from her hand.

  ‘I’m kinda tired, can we talk later?’

  She doesn’t reply and I don’t turn to watch her leave, but when I hear the door click softly shut behind her, a single tear escapes down the curve of my cheek.

  Chapter 57

  Wretched

  Tastes like: Dry grass.

  Smells like: Rotting fish.

  Sounds like: Soft crying.

  Feels like: An overdose of medicine that leaves you nauseous, dizzy and dry-mouthed.

  Looks like: A girl, in a tattered dress, standing alone, in a wind-whipped desert.

  ‘Oh Shaylee, you look exquisite!’ Mom exclaims, examining my reflection in the full length mirror of the bedroom suite she now occupies down the hall from me at Nan’s.

  The woman in the mirror stares back at me with a wan smile. Her long, shiny black hair is piled elaborately atop her head with a silver diamante pin and deep emerald eyes reflect the shimmering deep green of her dress, a stunning creation of silk and chiffon that clings to every curve and ends scandalously high above the knee in a full, skirt that leaves her long legs exposed.

  Pair of diamante sandals, a Swarovski crystal choker and matching earrings completes the outfit. There is no denying that the creature who stares back at me from the mirror is breathtaking.

  But she’s a stranger. The Shaylee I know would be wearing jeans and a cute crochet shirt with sneakers, not this bold, revealing dress my mother has chosen.

  I frown and my gaze goes to the white scar on my bare shoulder, a silent reminder of my brush with death. The halter neckline does nothing to conceal it. Not that I’m concerned about the aesthetics, but the sight brings back unpleasant memories.

  My mother’s eyes also go to the scar and she shakes her head almost imperceptibly. We haven’t spoken much about my ordeal, which isn’t really surprising, in fact we haven’t really spoken much at all since the first day, but I’
ve often caught her staring at me with a strange mixture of guilt, curiosity and terror in her eyes.

  ‘Kael’s waiting downstairs,’ Mom says as she kisses me on the cheek and gives me a bright, albeit strained smile. I leave the room and pause at the top of the stairs. Although I still have some ways to go toward a full recovery, an intensive two weeks of physiotherapy has ensured that I’m able to walk down the stairs this evening, unassisted and without a sling on my shoulder - quite a feat even in full health, considering the heels on my sandals. But it isn’t the pair of heels that keeps me paused at the top of the stairs, stomach in knots.

  At the bottom of the stairs, Kael waits, ready to take me to my engagement party. There, the man I love will hand me over to the man I will marry. There’s something very wrong about this whole arrangement, but I’ve resigned myself to my future.

  For a while there, in the hospital, I was sure Kael had felt something more for me. Sometimes, when we were alone, his skin would brush against mine, a tender endearment would slip from his lips and my heart would soar with the certainty that it was something stronger than duty or friendship that bound him to me. But now I realize that all it was is guilt. He feels guilty at not being able to protect me or heal me, and guilt isn’t enough.

  Perhaps it’s better this way. If he’d loved me back even half as much as I love him, it would just be that much harder to walk away. And I must walk away. This isn’t just about me anymore, it never really has been. My people and my family; they’re all depending on me. Less than a year ago, that knowledge would have scared, even angered me, but now that I know them, have spent time with them and have come to love them; I can’t imagine putting their lives in danger.

  So the wheels are in motion for my wedding to Tristan, starting with tonight’s engagement party. I take a deep breath and walk carefully down the narrow stairs.

  Kael is standing in the front living room, staring out the window with his back toward me. His broad shoulders sport a tailored black jacket with a hint of a white shirt peeping over the back of the collar. A pair of black pants completes the look and even from behind, I catch my breath at the all male beauty of his profile.

  The click of my heels draws his attention and he spins toward me. His eyes widen and his mouth moves, speechless, and he lets his gaze wonder over me. By the time he returns his gaze to mine, I’m burning with the same heat I see in his eyes.

  Then I see the shutters drop in his eyes, creating a thick, impenetrable wall between us. It reminds me of the way Kael looks when Tristan takes my hand in his, or kisses my cheek, something he’s been doing more frequently during his recent visits, most noticeably when my seastnan is in sight.

  Kael leads me to the truck, his gaze lingering a second too long on the bare length of my legs as he buckles me into the passenger seat. His hand brushes against my arm in the process and he glances quickly at me, bringing his face within inches of mine. I inhale sharply and stop breathing, but he drops his eyes from mine and moves away.

  Kael is silent as we drive, eyes straight ahead as usual and jaw clenched. For a while, I stare at him, waiting for him to say something, but then I give a frustrated sigh and drop my eyes to my hands, clasped in my lap.

  When we drive through the gates of Tristan’s palatial home, the entire tree-lined drive is sprinkled with fairy lights and dozens of cars are parked in neat rows on the green lawns in front of the house.

  Kael pulls the car right up to the marble staircase and gets out to assist me. I put my hand on his arm and want to tell him to stop. I want to beg him put me back in the car and run away with me, but I’m interrupted by the shrill voice of Tristan’s mother.

  ‘Shaylee, darling!’

  Kael guides me up the stairs, into the brightness of the hallway. He steps back as Mrs. Westwood kisses the air beside each of my cheeks. She leans back and assesses me with a critical eye, the way I’ve seen Tristan examine horses at Abbey Manor.

  ‘Tristan does have exquisite taste, doesn’t he?’ she trills.

  I stare at her, speechless, feeling every bit like one of her mares on display.

  ‘Shaylee,’ Tristan saunters across the entrance toward me, dressed in a black tuxedo, swath and handsome. He pauses at arm’s length and surveys me from head to toe.

  ‘I knew you would be breathtaking in that dress.’

  ‘I beg your pardon?’

  ‘The dress – it suits you. That’s why I chose it. The colour matches your eyes perfectly.’

  ‘You chose this dress?’

  ‘Yes. Come, our guests are waiting.’

  I take a step back toward Kael. My mother had said she’d chosen the dress and the idea of Tristan deciding on my outfit makes me want to run away. It’s silly, considering that I’m about to promise to marry him in front of hundreds of people, but it’s just one more decision that’s been taken for me.

  Kael reaches out one hand to steady me, but Tristan moves between us and wraps his arm about my waist. He shoots Kael a dark look, before steering me toward the garden.

  As we step through the doors onto the balcony, an overwhelming number of guests scattered on the balcony and in the garden below erupt into applause. Tables laden with decadent snacks and delicacies cover the balcony and thousands of fairy lights sparkle on every tree and hedge, while red and white candles float on the pond. Hundreds of red roses are arranged in artful displays on the tables, filling the air with their sweet, fragile fragrance.

  The string quartet performing on the grass below stops playing, the applause dissipates and every person looks to Tristan’s mother, who raises her champagne flute for attention. Nan stands beside her and I feel a spark of anger. My mother should be here, standing beside Mrs. Westwood on this important occasion. I know why she can’t be here, but what gives these people the right to treat her this way?

  ‘Friends, may I have your attention?’ Mrs. Westwood says unnecessarily in her shrill, superficial tone. ‘As you know, we are here to celebrate Tristan’s engagement to Shaylee tonight.’ My heart drops into my stomach.

  ‘Tristan, why don’t you make it official?’

  A hard lump forms at the back of my throat as Tristan goes down on one knee before me. I know what I need to say, but my heart wants me to turn tail and run.

  ‘Shaylee, will you marry me?’ Tristan looks up at me with expectant eyes and holds open a small red velvet box from which glints an exquisite diamond ring. I look up, searching the crowd and my eyes collide with Kael’s.

  Stop this, I will him, jump up, grab me and run away into the sunset with me. Just tell me you love me.

  But Kael doesn’t move; he just stands there, half-hidden in the shadows at the edge of the balcony, watching. I taste bile at the back of my throat as my mind flashes back to the Circle meeting the night of the attack. Just as he had that night, he drops his head, turns and walks away.

  Somehow, his actions are like another betrayal. I swallow back the bitterness and will myself to hold back the tears that threaten.

  I drop my gaze to Tristan’s and whisper:

  ‘Yes.’

  Chapter 58

  Hope

  Tastes like: A Chinese fortune-cookie.

  Smells like: Candle-wax.

  Sounds like: A wish, whispered on a shooting star.

  Feels like: The promise of something.

  Looks like: A lit sparkler.

  The cool ring of white gold and diamonds slides onto my ring finger and Tristan rises to embrace me amid a round of applause. He leans back, grinning, but his smile fades as he takes in the pallor of my skin.

  ‘Are you alright?’

  ‘I’m not feeling so well,’ I eye the train of guests moving toward us. I can’t hold the fake smile for much longer.

  ‘I’ll take you to lie down.’

  ‘No,’ I say quickly, ‘I think I just need a moment alone. You stay and greet the guests, I won’t be long.’

  He searches my gaze and purses his lips but nods. I slip away down the back st
eps, away from the lights and people. The tears are already burning my throat after only a few steps and I can’t get away quick enough. I stop to pull the diamante sandals from my feet and increase my pace down the unlit path.

  The gravel is harsh beneath my feet but I move faster and faster, until I’m running, kicking up stones in my wake. By the time I reach the end of the path, I can hardly see the pavilion shimmering in fairy lights through my blurred, teary eyes. I barely make it into the quiet haven before I collapse to my knees and drop my head into my hands.

  Each night I’d lain awake, listening to Kael’s breathing in the room next door, hoping against all odds that he would fight for me, rescue me from the destiny that had been dictated by others…love me. But he’d just stood there.

  I let the tears flow freely, and start when I feel a warm hand on my shoulder.

  ‘Shaylee, what’s wrong?’

  His voice sends a tremble through my body.

  Kael moves in front of me and holds out both his hands but I flinch away. He frowns, and kneels down in front of me, his eyes taking in the streaks of mascara running down my cheeks.

  ‘Why are you crying?’ He cups my chin in both of his hands and brushes the smudged make-up away with his thumbs.

  ‘I can’t do this anymore, Kael.’ I push his hands away and lean back, unwilling to breathe in the musky scent of him. I can feel the heat radiating from him, threatening to turn my insides to mush.

  ‘Can’t do what?’

  I shake my head and stumble to my feet, ignoring Kael’s outstretched hand and nearly tearing my dress in the process. I turn away from him and stare out over the balustrade into the darkness beyond.

  ‘I have to leave. I have to get away from here.’

  ‘Why?’ his voice is sharp.

  ‘I just have to. I’m going back home.’

  ‘I’ll take you -’

  ‘No,’ I say, ‘not Nan’s house. I mean home: South Africa.’

  The words are out even before I realize what I’m thinking, but it’s the only viable solution. I’ll move back to South Africa and pretend none of this has ever happened. I’ll pretend that I’ve never fallen in love with Kael. I’ll hide, pick up the pieces and create a new life, somehow.

 

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