The Wolf House: The Complete Series

by Mary Borsellino

~

  The stillness and nothing seems to last for a long time before Will comes back to himself, but the pain that greets him on his return feels no less vivid and intense than it did in the prison. There’s blood in his mouth, and he gags on it automatically, trying to turn his head away from the rim of the cup at his lip.

  “Stay still,” Jenny snaps. “Just drink it.”

  It’s cold, and even though Will’s whole body is still burning the coolness of the liquid makes him splutter as he swallows, like bitter medicine used to when he was human. But chilled blood means bagged blood, and so Will lets it slide down his throat without any more protestation.

  He can hear Cora, her tone venomous and icy, somewhere out of his narrow range of vision. “This is completely outrageous.”

  “Outrage has never been an especially becoming expression on you, Cora.” That’s Alexander’s smooth voice, sounding slightly amused and condescending. “But please, feel free to continue your melodramatics if you find them enjoyable.”

  “What?” Will manages to ask Jenny, his throat already sore and dry again.

  “Hush. Later,” she says sternly, and she sounds so much like her mom in that moment that Will can’t stop himself from smiling a little as he passes out again.

  ~

  The next time he wakes up he’s somewhere different, quieter. It’s dark, so dark that Will wonders if Jenny or even Sofie can see. He can’t open his eyes to check—the lids feel stiff and sore, like the rest of him.

  Will sleeps and burns and waits for the pain to stop and thinks of Lily. He wonders if she still has the same cell phone number as she used to. He wonders if he’ll be able to remember what it was, once he can think properly again. He wonders if she’ll speak to him if he calls.

  After what feels like a long, long, long time in the dark, Will begins to notice that he’s awake for longer snatches of time between the relief of unconsciousness. He can feel the texture of the bedding under him, and the soft still air on his exposed, aching skin.

  The next time someone comes into the room, it’s Sofie. Will can tell by the rhythm of her footsteps and the scent of her, but he opens his eyes to watch her anyway.

  “You’re awake,” she observes, an anxious smile twitching at her mouth. “How are you feeling?”

  Will snorts, hoping that’ll answer the question well enough. Sofie’s twitching smile becomes a little surer.

  “Okay, dumb question. Do… do you know who I am?” The hesitation in this question is only momentary, and Will wishes that there was some way to heal the broken things inside Sofie, to make her into someone who isn’t afraid of hoping for the best.

  Will’s whisper is cracked. “Yes.”

  Sofie lets out a long breath.

  “Good. That’s. That’s good.” She blinks a few times quickly, obviously thinking that the room is dark enough to hide from him the fact that she’s almost crying. “Makes things easier if I don’t have to do all the exposition.”

  “Fire blanket,” Will rasps. Sofie nods.

  “Yeah, that’s what I covered you with. That’ll teach you to question my choices next time I steal from a burger joint, won’t it, huh?” she teases lightly in her usual brittle-bright voice, but the words break and tremble and this time the tears slip down her cheeks. She turns her face away, looking ashamed.

  “Drink?” asks Will.

  “Oh, sorry. Here.” Sofie’s touch is gentle as she brings the cup to his lips. “I forgot that vampires only care about getting dinner on time,” she says, and Will wishes he could lift his hand to put on top of hers and squeeze.

  “Is he awake?” Alexander’s voice again. Will had been sure that he’d hallucinated that, but apparently not.

  “Yeah. But don’t make him talk or anything yet,” Sofie answers. When all the blood is gone from the cup she takes it away and leaves the two of them alone.

  “How long have I been out?” Will asks, using the small amount of energy the blood’s given him to keep his voice even and clear.

  “All the rest of the day, and the evening. It’s just past midnight.” Alexander answers. Will can just make out the outline of his form in the shadows, the sharp lines of his suit and the elegant posture. Even in an impromptu burn ward, Alexander looks haughty and unruffled. “I can’t say I was especially surprised to hear you’d fallen into trouble against Cora. It’s difficult for me to pick which of the two of you is the more irritating of Blake’s projects. Though I suppose I should be grateful; her increasingly absurd antics have given me an excuse to leave the city for a few nights. Lily has made life at home particularly tiresome lately.”

  “Why save me at all?”

  “Lord only knows,” Alexander answers, giving a bored sigh. “Blake still finds you amusing, and I care about whether Blake is happy. Or perhaps the chance to thwart a victory of Cora’s was too tempting for me to pass up. I’ve learned better than to question the world’s sense of logic.”

  “Thank you.”

  Alexander doesn’t bother to reply to Will’s croaked words. He turns on his heel and walks toward the door out of the darkened room. “If I waste more time here, I won’t be able to fly back until tomorrow night. I’ve left money with Jennifer, should you need it for your recovery.” He turns, the edge of his smile catching the faint light like a blade. “Your sister is a fascinating girl. I must remember to stay in touch.”

  “Don’t,” Will protests sharply. Alexander smirks, quirking one eyebrow, and leaves the room.

  ~

  Will takes two more nights to heal completely. He sleeps for most of the time, his body needing all the energy it has to knit and heal. Even the worst of the burns don’t leave scars. In the spots where his scalp burned, his hair has gone white.

  “That can’t happen,” he says, vexed, staring at himself in the mirror.

  Sofie gestures at her own hair. “Mine lightened when I was fourteen. Sometimes vampirism does that. It’s common in the newly turned. You might switch back eventually. It’s hard to predict with certainty.”

  “No, I mean it literally can’t do that. It’s an urban legend that hair can go white overnight from a shock or illness. It’s not physically possible. Old hair falls out faster if you’re stressed, sometimes, making new gray hairs more evident, but it can’t do it overnight like this.” He pulls at the white streaks experimentally. They feel just like the rest of his hair.

  “I’ve also heard that vampires are just horror stories,” Jenny puts in helpfully. Will scowls. She grins. “Don’t frown. Your hair looks distinguished.”

  Will rolls his eyes, but secretly the strangeness has made him happy. Perhaps he’s still capable of more change than he thought.

  “So are we on our way to Santa Monica, then?” Jenny asks.

  “There’s a detour I want to make first,” Will answers.

  ~

  San Francisco by night is just as Will remembers it. He’s visited the city three times before, always with the band, and so the gorgeous smells wafting from restaurants and the old elegance of the more affluent areas have always been mild and distant curiosities to him, like a glossy TV show or a piece of priceless jewellery might be: lovely, but nothing to do with any world he’s a part of.

  The San Francisco Will knows is the golds and crimsons of the dim sum parlours where Anna would try to eat enough to keep her nourished all day without replenishment; the noisy clothing boutiques where Lily would find earrings in the shapes of fish skeletons or crowns or plastic diamonds; the flophouses in the Tenderloin where Russ would complain that they’d all be killed by drug dealers in their sleep.

  The Tenderloin’s the place Will remembers best of the city. It’s a strange little pocket of dark and dirt amidst the bay water gleam of the blocks around it, like an unfading bruise on the swells and curves of the city’s body.

  Will himself is unafraid - he suspects he’s lost the knack of that - but he worries on behalf of Jenny and Sofie, vulnerable and young and alive in a place that seems to suck t
hese traits dry from anyone who stays too long. The girls don’t seem to be bothered at all by the dingy grit of their surroundings, however, and abruptly that makes perfect sense to Will. Compulsion overrides fear, always. Just as the band, for all their complaints along the way, slept on floors and in the backs of vans and in motels which stank of desperation, so too will Jenny and Sofie accommodate the dangers of the Tenderloin.

  Remember the Stars did it because they needed to play music, whatever it took, while Jenny needs to be a quiet strength for those whose own energy is spent, and Sofie needs to stop other children from losing all the things that she herself once lost.

  It’s not about nobility or sacrifice. It doesn’t mean they have a gift that makes them any better at doing these things than others who undertake the same tasks. All it means is that they never had a choice. They must do what they must do.

  “It’s going to be light soon,” Will says. “We should find somewhere to stay.”

  ~

  The next evening, Will sets out alone, looking for Anna and Russ. It takes him a few hours to find them, because San Francisco is an easy place to be invisible within, and Anna and Russ have always been good at avoiding detection.

  Their paths finally cross in a bar, a vaguely upmarket place with muted music and dim lighting and overpriced drinks.

  “Hey,” Will says, trying to make his expression something like a welcome. “How have you been?”

  Russ is the one to reply. “All right. Hunting’s harder here than in Chicago. The vampires aren’t as exposed. Fewer turf wars. But we’re learning.”

  “You’ve always been adaptable,” Will agrees. He pauses, searching for something else to say. Small talk has never felt more useless. After a few seconds, he gives up, and goes right to the point. “I’m going back to Chicago. I wanted you both to know, directly from me, that it’s still your city, too. Your home, whenever you want it again. There’s no ill will between us.”

  Russ nods, obviously at his own loss as to what the right words for a meeting like this are. After a beat, he holds his hand out. Will takes it, squeezing Russ’s familiar palm reassuringly.

  Anna stays silent, staring at Will with an unreadable expression. Will nods at her and turns to go, wondering if Jenny and Sofie have gone out to find food yet.

  “Will,” Anna says. Will stops, turning back. “Tell Lily… tell Lily I miss her every day.”

  Will nods, and walks away.

  ~

  When Will returns to the motel room they’d rented—twin beds for Sofie and Jenny, a windowless bathroom with a tub large enough to sleep in for him—Sofie is lying on her bed, eating red vine candies and reading a battered paperback of Lydia Lunch’s Paradoxia. Jenny’s flipping channels on the tiny black-and-white TV, searching through the static for something worth leaving on. When she sees him, she smiles and straightens.

  “I’m gonna go buy some groceries. You can come along and help me carry them back,” she tells him.

  “Have you been waiting for me to get back just so I could come be your pack mule?” he asks without malice. She nods cheerfully.

  “Yep. Come on.”

  San Francisco seems kinder, somehow, with Jenny at his side, and Will remembers a little of why he used to love this city so much.

  “You’re heading home, aren’t you?” she asks as they head down the street to an all-night market. Will turns the idea over in his head, savouring the texture. Home. He’s got somewhere that’s home.

  “Yeah.”

  “Hm.” Jenny nods, as if confirming a part of a plan to herself. “Right. I’m gonna stick with Sofie, then. Go down to Santa Monica with her, and then on from there. Can we have the car?”

  “Do you have a license?” Will retorts, knowing that she doesn’t. Jenny looks unruffled.

  “Sofie was raised by a master forger, remember? It’s not a problem.”

  “I can’t believe you gave her Paradoxia to read.” Will considers for a moment. “I can’t believe you’ve read Paradoxia. You’re fifteen.”

  “Lydia’s only sixteen at the start of the book,” Jenny points out, fond irritation serrating her words.

  “Yeah, but -”

  “I thought Sofie deserved to read something that… do you know what she was reading before I went out and found a bookstore and got Paradoxia? She was reading The Art of War. I wanted her to be given at least one book that was written by someone she could recognise herself in, a voice that was hers, instead of always reading things about the person she thinks she’s meant to be, you know? And anyway, if you really thought I was an innocent baby, you never would have let me go to that vampire party with you, would you?”

  “No,” Will concedes. “I’m sorry how -”

  “Oh, whatever. The kids got free and your hair looks cool, and so I think that means we won, doesn’t it?” Jenny grins. “This is gonna be a more interesting year away from study than I expected, that’s for sure.”

  Will smiles a little at her enthusiasm, but worry still gnaws at him. “She’s… she’s pretty broken, Jen. Even more so than us. She’ll keep you around while she thinks you’re helping her get her job done. She’ll accept you as an ally. But don’t let yourself get your heart bruised, okay? I don’t think Sofie’s the sort of person who lets herself have friends.”

  Jenny looks at him, kindness and sadness in her eyes, and says “Then she deserves at least one, don’t you think?”

  Will looks at his little sister, with her beautiful young-woman face, her soft pale double chin and her pink bow mouth, her sea-gray eyes behind her glasses and the thick sky-blue tangles of her dreadlocks, threaded with tiny beads of silver and green glass.

  “How’d you turn out so cool, kid?” he asks with a lopsided smile. She shrugs.

  “Don’t know. Learned it from my big brother, I think.”

  “Really? He sounds like a good dude, then.”

  Jenny laughs. “Yeah. I think you’d like him.”

  ~

  They drive him to the airport. Airports at night always seem timeless, gray zones of not-quite-earth, and it’s almost normal to feel dead in circumstances like that. Will hugs Jenny, as if squeezing her tight enough will keep her safe from all the world. Then it’s Sofie’s turn, and Jenny goes to check out what gate Will needs to go to, so that they’ll have privacy for a couple of minutes.

  “With all that’s happened, I never asked,” Will says. “Did… at the… after what happened at the party. Did you and Jay have a chance to talk?”

  Sofie gives a sharp nod. “Yes.”

  “And?”

  “And… it’s complicated,” Sofie answers, shifting from foot to foot, looking uncomfortable. “We’re both angry. But… that’s something, you know? Complicated and angry is better than nothing. He gave me his email address and phone number.” Her mouth curls into a shaky smile. “I’m so fucking scared I’m going to screw it up again. But I gotta give it a shot anyway.”

  Will nods. “I can relate to that. Look, after Santa Monica, if you and Jen want to come out to the Midwest, you’re always welcome.”

  Sofie shakes her head. “No. I might… one day, I might rock up on your doorstep and demand you let me crash on your couch. You never know. But not right now. I think me and Jenny are gonna maybe come back here to San Francisco, after. See the sights, all that. There’re lots of places around here that need volunteers, so Jenny’ll be happy, and there’s always more kids who need someone to break them out. I’ll be able to do some real good, now that I won’t have you around to slow me down.”

  Will smiles at the teasing, then hesitates for a second. He wants to hug her, he wants that very much, but knows better than to try. He thinks of what else he can offer instead.

  “If you ever… there’s a vampire named Gretchen. I don’t know where she is now, but I bet if you asked around she’d hear that someone was looking for her. She travels with three brothers. If you ever need… I don’t even know. But I think she’ll help you out.”

&nb
sp; Sofie nods. “Thanks.” She shuffles her feet. “For a lot of stuff.”

  “You too,” Will answers, risking a squeeze of her hand. She gives him a warning look, but after a second she squeezes back.

  LILY

  Lily’s been to a party like this once before, when one of the major labels was trying to convince Remember the Stars to sign their souls away. The hotel ballroom is glittering and expensive and enticing, a promise of all that’s on offer to those who opt to buy in and sell out. Executives and managers and performers and promoters and music-TV presenters and a whole lot of other kinds of industry people all schmooze and chatter, making the alliances which will shape the way popularity will be scattered amongst the various hot new talents in the mainstream scene.

  “And they say I’m the vampire,” Lily quips. Rose and Jay both politely ignore the tepid joke, looking around at the elegant decor and the beautiful furnishings around the edges of the central mingling space.

  “I know that guy,” Rose says, nodding at one of the waiters, an Indian-American kid with his hair gelled into red-tipped spikes. “From school. His name’s Jamie. Cool guy.”

  “Yeah, I have Math with him,” Jay confirms. “Kids our age can make okay money doing event staff work for functions like this.

  I met Blake when I was working a party at one of the other hotels on this block.”

  Rose’s phone beeps quietly in the pocket of her slacks.

  “I didn’t know you even had a charger cord for that thing. You mean it really works, just like an actual phone? Wow,” Lily teases.

  “Tommy only let me come here on that condition,” Rose explains. “He wants me to phone him and check in. I’ll be right back.” She slips off towards the ladies’ room to make the call in relative privacy.

  Lily’s feeling jumpy and tense from being around such a large group of people—she only feels comfortable in crowds if there’s a stage and instruments involved in some capacity—and, really, that should be an indicator that she should keep her mouth shut, because Lily’s brain/voice filter tends to stop functioning properly whenever she’s nervous.

  “So were you doing waiter duty, at this other party,” she asks Jay. “Or did Blake order a glass of the 1994 vintage, and you were the right birthdate?”