But Loti knew it wasn’t her stomach. What she “saw” was something wrong with the energy in her sister’s throat and head. She couldn’t tell the adults how she knew back then, and they thought she was sweet for trying to help, but it was Night Eyes who listened to Loti, and sent them to a neurologist. Dr. Neil ordered a CAT scan, just to be on the safe side, he’d said. The results were mind-numbing—a tumor on the right side of her cerebellum, the lower part of the brain at the back of the head, just above the neck was blocking the drainage of cerebral fluid. The size of an orange, it crushed the brain stem where vomiting was controlled and the back wash of fluid was three times what it should have been.
On her way down the stairs, Loti glanced up and caught sight of the same picture of Margarite, Wolf, and the two men. She now recognized one of the men as Calisto, the one she had her arm around, his curly hair dark against her pale cheek. She paused, trying to get a sense of when the photo might have been taken. It was color, but a bit washed out—maybe the 70s. But that wasn’t possible because Margarite looked the same in the photo as she did now. Vampires didn’t age, but witches and healers did. They were human after all. Maybe the photo had been photoshopped? A familiar effervescence coursed up her spine and she shivered.
“Are you alright?”
Wolf’s deep voice tightened her stomach before she saw him. Taking the next few steps with her hand on the rail, she stopped on the last one so she was face to face with him.
“I wanted to make sure you were settling in.” An easy smile reached his eyes and softened the chiseled edges of his face. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been human, but I can appreciate how intimidating a nest of vampires can be.” He stepped back as Loti took the final step down, and she looked up at him.
An almost irrepressible urge to reach up and touch his hair scared her a little, and so did the thought that his bottomless eyes might swallow her up. She looked away.
“Calisto and the others are waiting for you in the living room,” Wolf said.
Loti looked back at him, this time careful not to look into his eyes. “Do . . . I mean, can . . . vampires hypnotize a human with their eyes?” Loti asked his chin. Not a single whisker. She wondered how he could shave so smoothly or did he need to shave at all? Weren’t natives naturally smooth skinned—no beards or facial hair? And did vampires’ hair grow? The one college course she’d taken on vampires, the only course available, didn’t cover things like that. Very little was known about them, and they liked it that way.
“Yes, some can.” Wolf held very still. “Not all.”
She swallowed. “Can you?”
He nodded slowly.
“Have you?” A tremor shook her voice.
He didn’t answer right away, so to keep from looking up she stared at his full lips. The impulse to run her index finger over his bottom lip made her hand twitch. She clasped them tight together, frightened she might actually do it.
“I have.” He paused. “And I would again if I thought it were necessary.”
She watched his lips move as he spoke, and then with a cautious awareness, she allowed her gaze to wander over his cheek bones to his nose and, finally, to his eyes. “Do they have to be looking in your eyes?”
He nodded.
“Wolf!” Rachel yelped from behind Loti, hurrying from a room on the other side of the stairs and practically leaping into his arms. “Did Loti tell you what happened?”
Wolf caught her easily, his black hair swinging. Loti shivered, clasping the elbow of her rigid arm.
“I have to go see Nanny. She’s already called the coven to a meeting. She wants to meet with the Travelers and Calisto.” Her words tumbled over each other in her effort to say everything at once.
“Whoa, whoa. Slow down. What’s wrong?” Wolf’s brow creased as he tried to make sense of it.
“Wolf? Would you help me with this?” Wolf looked over his shoulder where Margarite stood in the kitchen archway with a tray of food. He turned away from Rachel and Loti, taking the tray out of her hands. She picked up a large soup tureen and tilted her head to the other side of the kitchen where a large archway led to what looked like a living room.
“What happened?” Wolf asked as he followed her.
“Come. Everyone’s waiting in the living room.” Margarite walked through the archway. “We’ll explain when everyone’s settled.”
There was a knock on the door, and Rachel went to answer it, while Loti stood in the big kitchen, looking in both directions, uncertain which way to go.
“Anand,” Rachel said as she opened the door.
“Hey, Rachel, are you ready?”
Rachel glanced back at Loti. “Almost. Come in while I get my stuff.” She opened the door wider to allow Anand to step into the foyer.
He lifted his chin toward Loti. “You doing okay?”
“Yes, yes I am.” Loti said, not at all certain.
“Loti, are you going to be okay while I’m gone? I have no idea when I’ll be back.” Rachel stood with one hand on the banister, biting her lip.
“I’ll be fine.” Loti forced a smile.
“I can’t keep Nan and the coven waiting.” A gentle smile curled her lips. “Wolf will look out for you. He really is a good guy, Loti.”
“I get it. Go. I’ll be okay.” She waved both hands at Rachel and pushed her smile up into her eyes as best she could. Rachel paused another second then beamed and bolted up the stairs, leaving Anand and Loti to smile awkwardly at each other.
“Loti?”
She shivered at the sound of Wolf’s deep voice. Good lord, I’m sick of that.
“Hey, Wolf? How’s it hanging?” Anand stuffed his hands in his pants pockets, rocking back and forth on his toes.
“Good, Anand. And you?” The corner of Wolf’s mouth twitched and his head shook ever so slightly.
“Couldn’t be better.” Anand grinned too hard, and Wolf looked sideways at Loti.
“Where’s Rachel?”
“She’s getting her things. Rachel’s going to meet with the coven,” Loti said.
“Margarite asked me to go with her, just in case.”
With narrowed eyes, Wolf regarded Anand. He shifted from one foot to the other under Wolf’s gaze.
“After the attack and all.” Anand scratched the back of his head.
“Attack?” Wolf scowled, the hard edges returning.
“We’ll tell you all about it, Wolf.” Margarite appeared beside Loti. “But first, let’s get Loti something to eat, and we’ll discuss it in the living room.” She guided Loti with a hand on her arm toward the archway.
“I’ll make sure Rachel’s safe,” Anand called in a jittery voice.
“You’d better.”
Loti snapped her head around at the threat in Wolf’s voice, but Margarite tugged on her arm. She let Margarite lead her through the archway into a sitting room with a stone fireplace and overstuffed furniture—the setting from the photo. Several people sat on the couch and stood around the room, talking. She recognized Calisto and the two men from the bathroom. She softened her gaze to confirm they were indeed vamps. The men were, but the woman with them was human and most likely a witch. The woman stood out, not because of her energy, but because of the ultra-modern, edgy haircut and off-the-shoulder red cashmere sweater she wore over skinny jeans.
Prickly anxiety heated up the back of Loti’s neck as it dawned on her she was in a room full of blood drinkers. There were so many reasons not to be here. A hand covered her shoulder, and she knew who it was by the pulse that passed between them. It’s definitely softer.
“It’s alright, Loti. You’re safe here.”
She should be more cautious, more worried that a vampire had his hand on her—especially one who affected her this way, but she wasn’t. He could crush her throat or throw her across the room with that hand, but she was more than okay with that, which petrified her. She turned back to the small crowd, walking deliberately out from under his touch.
His ha
nd slid off her shoulder, and he lowered his arm, watching her—they all watched her. She tried to take them all in, to see each one in turn and tell the difference between humans and vampires, but as Wolf’s hand slipped away, the slow pulse changed back into the spine-numbing electric buzz. She repressed the urge to shiver. Irritated, and trying way too hard to be calm, she refocused on the people around the room, determined to get a grip.
The two on the loveseat closest to her were humans, a guy and a girl, but the petite, voluptuous woman lounging on the couch was a vampire. The two vampires by the fireplace seemed affable enough, although they held themselves with a careful air like they were ready for anything. The woman, however, leaned against the wall as if all of this was annoying. The big, brown eyes outlined with heavy kohl were peculiar compared to the clean faces everyone else wore. The only sensible thing about her was her black winter boots, but even those had oversized silver buckles and black shearling peeking out and spilling over the tops. She watched Loti with a half-cocked, blood-red smile. Loti tried a smile back, but it withered under the woman’s hooded stare.
“Loti, are you feeling better?” Calisto skirted the large, round coffee table between them and reached for her hand.
Loti stiffened as his hand enveloped hers, expecting the same electrical charge she got from Wolf, but nothing happened. She looked up at Calisto in surprise.
“What’s the matter, my dear,” he asked with genuine concern in his voice. The corner of his mouth curled.
Loti shook her head, a shy smile creeping across her face. “It’s nothing. I was expecting . . . well, never mind.”
So it wasn’t all vampires. Just Wolf. She withdrew her hand, and Calisto tilted his head in a questioning manner then glanced over at Wolf who raised a single eyebrow. Grinning, Calisto patted Loti’s arm and gestured to the bright blue and pink cushions arranged around the coffee table.
“Come, Loti, s'asseoir. Manger,” Margarite said. “I’ve made vegetable soup and bread for dinner. Eat before it turns cold.”
The smell of savory broth and cabbage saturated the room and Loti’s stomach. It seemed like a lifetime ago she and Rachel had grabbed a bite at the little diner along the way to the ashram. She knelt down at the table with the other humans, including Bloody-Lips. Margarite dug into the soup tureen, filling pottery bowl after bowl while the two young humans broke off hunks of French bread, passing it around with butter and honey and a white tea pot. The vampires helped themselves to tea, but melted back to the edges of the room, except for Wolf. He knelt on a blue cushion next to Loti, reaching for a green mug with leaves wrapped around it. When she examined it closer, she saw the leaves formed a face.
“The Green man,” she cried out, guffawing a big belly laugh. Embarrassed by the raucous sound, she clamped a hand over her mouth.
“What’s wrong?” Wolf asked.
“I shocked myself.” Her hand dropped to her lap. “Guess I haven’t laughed much lately.”
“I like the sound of it.” The gentle enjoyment of his smile erased the hardness that owned his face the majority of the time. As he held her gaze, the buzzing in her spine amplified. What in the hell? What is he doing to me?
Nothing.
She bit her lip. Was that her thought or—no, it wasn’t that voice from the shower. It wasn’t someone else’s, but it wasn’t exactly hers either. Frustrated and more than a little scared, the spoon trembled as she lifted it to her mouth. She chose to focus on the saltiness of the broth and the texture of the cabbage, peas, and potatoes. She glanced over at Margarite, who talked with the young blond man beside her, but she gave Loti a small, reassuring smile. Feeling prickly like something was watching her, Loti turned to see Ms. Bloody-Lips staring as she bit into a crusty piece of baguette. If looks could kill. Loti lowered her eyes. I wish Rachel were here.
Calisto eased himself down beside Loti, setting his white mug on the table, his smile heartening after Bloody-Lips. He carried himself in an effortless way, gentle and unpretentious, yet clearly he was their leader, and she suspected for very good reasons.
“Let me introduce everyone so you have names to put to faces.” Calisto rested a hand on her thigh like an old friend, turning the other to the young man beside Margarite. His name was Justin. Next to him was an even younger looking Camille, who sounded decidedly southern when she said hello. Standing up to clasp Loti’s hand, her white kurta shifted around narrow hips and tiny arms, making her look almost child-like.
“And this,” Calisto lifted the corner of his mouth at Bloody-Lips, “is Fiamette, a healer. She is new to our family and is from Venice, aren’t you, Fia?”
Fiamette’s eyes darted from Calisto’s careful smile to Loti’s extended hand before extending her own.
“Charmed.” She pressed her lips together in a tight, piqued smile and lifted her chin while she shook hands with Loti.
“It’s nice to meet you.” Loti pulled her hand away with a clear feeling that Fiamette was anything but charmed—maybe even insulted. But it made no sense to Loti, so she dismissed it as a projection of her own fears.
Appearing to ignore the edge in Fiamette’s voice, Calisto moved right on to Keane and Marcus, the ones who had been in the bathroom earlier that evening. They nodded at Loti in turn, staying by the fireplace. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Wolf staring down Fiamette, who cast her eyes down at her food, her catty look faltering.
“And this is our Korinna.”
Loti caught up with the introductions, following Calisto’s outstretched hand to the youngest of the vamps at just 200 years old. She was from Greece.
“And of course, you’ve already met my Margarite. She comes from Auxerre, a little place outside of Paris.”
“Not so little these days, I think,” Margarite teased.
He dropped his eyes demurely. “Of course, my love. Time flies, does it not?” The two exchanged a sickening, sweet look. “Now that you know everyone, I think we need to discuss this attack.”
“How did someone get past you?” Wolf’s rigid face matched the intense, angry bees stinging Loti’s spine. She ground her back teeth together, fisting her hands in her lap.
“C'est ma faute.” Margarite rubbed one tired eye. “He marked Loti, and I didn’t find it when I checked her before she came into the house.”
“It’s not your fault, Margarite,” Calisto said quietly.
“He? Who? And how’d he penetrate your protection wards?” Wolf’s voice rumbled.
“He used death magic,” Loti interjected, looking from Wolf to Margarite, not liking the cold stare he gave the woman. Barely containing the urge to jump out of her skin, Loti rubbed at the bees that had escaped her spinal column and stung their way down her arms.
“No, it was my fault. I should have found the aberration in her aura. I—”
“Now, Margarite, don’t be so hard on yourself. Rachel stopped the attack.” He looked pointedly at Wolf. “And in the end, she is safe. Margarite healed her.” Calisto looked back at Margarite. “You did your job. The wards are not your responsibility alone.”
“I’ll check all the protection spells with you, Margarite,” Justin offered, half getting up from his cushion.
Something passed between Calisto and Wolf until Wolf’s stare melted, and he was normal again. Without warning, he grabbed Loti’s hand. His thumb rubbed absent-minded circles. An invisible liquid glided over her skin, drowning the stinging bees and stilling her restless spine, replacing it with a steady hum that calmed. She stared at their hands, too relieved to react to the assumptive and intimate gesture. Much better, so very much better. But he was so arrogant to touch her like that and in front of everyone. She glared at him and jerked her hand away. Wolf kept his hand on her leg, but she smacked it off. He watched her struggle with the stinging, a shadow of consternation passing over her. Then begrudgingly, she picked up his hand and brought it back to her leg, relief washing over her in slow, undulating waves. What. The. Hell.
“Yes, in the end.�
�� Wolf muttered apologetically.
Margarite slumped against Calisto, who shifted so he could lean against the couch.
“Yes, in the end. But, it can’t happen again.” Calisto focused his reassuring eyes on Loti. “You need to be protected, at least until you’re more capable of taking care of yourself.”
“What does that mean?” Loti only half heard what Calisto had said. She was distracted by Wolf’s surprisingly warm hand on her leg. He should have been cool to the touch.
“All in good time,” Calisto assured her. To Wolf he said, “Rachel thought she knew the attacker which is why she contacted Katie Brown. She says it was Patrick Lynch.”
Wolf squeezed Loti’s leg, sharp pinpricks needling her. “Ouch,” she yelped, trying to pry his hand loose, but Wolf held on. She narrowed her eyes. “What the hell, Wolf?”
Spoons ceased clinking and whispered conversations dissolved. Glances were exchanged around the room as Loti tugged at his hand harder until Wolf, at last, let go. As soon as he did, the buzzing returned.
“What is going on?” she yelled. Jumping up, she scrubbed at her arms.
Wolf stayed calm as he shifted back onto his hands, his gaze weightless.
“Will somebody please tell me something instead of staring at me?” Her nails bit into her palms as her hands clenched.
“Try to calm down—” Margarite began.
“Calm down? Do you have any fucking idea what’s happening to me? What is this? It’s like stepping on a hornet’s nest and sticking your finger in a light socket all at the same time.” She squeezed one shoulder toward her ear, grabbing the back of her neck, her face scrunched up around her nose.
Enlightened (Love and Light Series) Page 9