“Well, that rules that out. I can’t go up there.”
She untangled her legs and stood. “I’ll go get it.”
“No, I can’t let you do that. There’s got to be something else we can use to defend ourselves. A knife maybe.”
Scarlet directed the light toward him. “Do you really want to go up against the big, bad wolf using a kitchen knife? Look, Diesel told me that his mom had told him to use a dart if Granny turned into a werewolf. So it’s logical to use one on Diesel.”
He shrugged his shoulders. “A knife is better than nothing. Better than going upstairs to Granny’s room. At least I’ll be a little more prepared than before. I think I could have held my own if I had been just a little more prepared, you know.”
“Sure.”
He stood up straight and cleared his throat. “I’m not a wimp, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
She got guys and knew how to manage them, and the last thing she needed was for him to feel threatened and think she doubted his masculinity; she needed him strong and needed him to do what had to be done. “I’m not thinking anything except that we need that gun. I understand why you can’t go in the room; she’s your granny. It won’t bother me. Really. For some reason, a dead person, just lying there on the bed, isn’t going to scare me. I’m pretty sure the gun is right there on the floor in front of her bed.”
Aiden rubbed his chin and looked around the room. He held his hurt arm, inhaled a few times, and finally he said, “Even if you do go and get it, it doesn’t mean we’re going to use it. And if we have to, we’re only going to use one dart. Maybe one won’t kill him. Maybe it’ll just—”
“What? Piss him off? Look, we’ll talk about all that later.” Despite wanting to be strong, her heart fluttered at the thought of walking out of the room and into the dark foyer. “Would you mind walking into the living room with me? Maybe you should keep an eye on Diesel—in case he wakes up. Because if he does, and he figures out what’s going on, or jumps to his own conclusions as to why we drugged him—”
Aiden snapped his head toward her. “We?”
“You knew what I did and didn’t tell him. So werewolf or not, if he wakes up and figures out what’s going on, we are in trouble.”
“Right.” He cleared his throat. “You’re something else. All right. Maybe I do agree that we might need the gun later. I’ll go along with this for now… but I’m not even considering using it on him before we even know if he’s going to change. Maybe we should have the gun close by but for later… just in case.”
“Whatever.” She would convince him otherwise, after she got the gun. She had no choice because Diesel had to be stopped. She couldn’t do it, even if he had changed, she didn’t think she could shoot him. She loved Diesel, and he looked like Diesel, even though she knew it wasn’t him anymore. Even though he hadn’t turned into a wild beast like his grandmother had, she could tell that the werewolf blood had already taken over his mannerisms and sense of humor. She couldn’t get the images of him eating like a wild animal and tossing Aiden over his shoulder out of her brain. She especially couldn’t forget the way he’d made her feel when they had been alone.
She led the way with the flashlight into the foyer. Peeking into the living room, she heard Diesel’s loud snores coming from the couch. At least the living room was well lit; she and Diesel had decided they had better gather all the candles and lanterns they could before dark.
Any other time Scarlet would have thought of it as the perfect romantic atmosphere: cozying up under a blanket with candles flickering inside a warm house while the outside snow and wind was forgotten.
But earlier, after she had lit the last candle and turned around, she had almost expected Diesel’s usual clever and mysterious twinkle in his eyes. Instead, his stare looked hard and hungry.
She’d tried to ignore the way he made her feel. She’d tried to ignore the thought that if she refused him, he would go crazy and attack her. He had slowly held out his hand, and she had obeyed and walked to him. When it had begun, there had been no gentleness to his touch, no flirtatious eye contact or tiny kisses; only aggressive groping, tongue, and persistence. For the first time in their relationship, the intimacy had ended with a slap. He had called her a couple of ugly names, which under different circumstances she wouldn’t have let bother her. She wasn’t a delicate little snowflake that would melt with a slight temperature change. She actually loved confrontation and being able to speak her mind and being with a boy who could hold his own around her… but that was for a different time, not when they were in each other’s arms; that was the time she needed to feel special and to feel loved.
She ventured further into the living room. She had to. She figured if she didn’t guide Aiden he would stay in the foyer or run back to his room. Diesel slept curled up on the couch. He looked like her old Diesel, but she knew better. She had watched a loving grandmother attack her own grandson, who she thought could do no wrong, so to hope and to think Diesel wouldn’t attack her was foolish. Because he wasn’t Diesel anymore.
“Gosh,” Aiden whispered from behind her. “How much did you give him?”
“Enough, I guess,” she whispered. “Stay here. If he makes a move, whistle or something.”
Aiden nodded his head and sat in the chair across from Diesel.
“I’ll be right back.” Even though her legs felt a little weak, she had no choice but to walk up the stairs to Granny’s room. If she had the gun, all she would have to do was convince Aiden to use it. “I went and got it,” she could tell him, “now use it.” Or, if all else failed, she could turn on the tears again. Obviously, he was a sucker for tears. Most guys were.
If that didn’t work, she had one more trick, and Aiden wasn’t a bad-looking guy, pretty cute actually, so it wouldn’t be too difficult to fake attraction in order to be a little more persuasive.
She made it through the foyer and up the stairs. She looked over the banister and down into the living room at Aiden. His eyes darted nervously back and forth from her to Diesel. She nodded before turning to face Granny’s closed door.
She could feel air seeping out from under the doorway, and when she opened the door, a blast of cold air hit her in the face. The room was dark, and she immediately shone the light to the source of a small high-pitched noise. She saw the curtains being blown in from the cracked-open window and the snow that had accumulated on the window sill. Slowly she turned her attention to the bed and to Granny, who was completely covered by her homemade quilts.
The crisp smells of winter, combined with Granny’s bedroom smell, tickled Scarlet’s nose. She shivered and couldn’t keep the light from the flashlight from dancing all around. Find the gun, and get out. She quickly scanned the floor and saw one of the darts and the gun right where she thought they would be. As she bent down to pick it up, she heard movement—coming from the bed!
She stood, holding the gun out in front of her with one hand and the flashlight in the other. She could hear her heart thumping inside her chest. As a piece of torn fabric began to flap on the quilt, she sucked in a scream. Just the wind, just the wind…
She ran out of the room and halfway down the hall, having to go back to shut the door. She ran down the stairs through the foyer, stopping as soon as she hit the living room. Aiden stood up, a concerned look on his face, as she tried to catch her breath and walked toward him.
“Are you all right?” he asked, his eyes wide and his eyebrows arched in question.
She nodded and handed him the gun.
He took it, seemingly without thought. “What’s wrong?”
“Shhh… spooked,” she whispered. “I’m just spooked. That’s all.” She sat down in the chair and put her hand over her wildly beating heart. “Oh crap! That was scary, but it’s done now.”
Aiden stared down at the foot-long, black, steel pistol. “It’s bigger than I remember. Is this a pump? I remember him pumping it up after he placed the dart in it, here.” He pointed to the back
of the gun. “Where’s the darts?” he whispered.
“Peachy,” she said. “I have no idea.” She tried to think back when she had followed Diesel home, when she had burst through the door and run into the living room looking for him. She had seen him upstairs crossing the hall with the dart gun. “He got the gun from somewhere upstairs, so he must have grabbed the darts from the same place. I know everything in his room, and I know he doesn’t have darts in there.”
Aiden looked oddly at the gun, like he’d just realized he held it. He set it down on top of the television.
Diesel stopped snoring, and Scarlet and Aiden stared at one another for a tense moment. Diesel groaned and rolled over and began to snore again. Scarlet indicated with her head for Aiden to follow her. They walked to the bottom of the stairs in the foyer.
She said, “Diesel told me he found the letter from his mom in her room. Maybe that’s where he found the gun and darts.”
“I guess you want me to go look. Man, I knew I would have to go up there.”
She shrugged her shoulders. “Please.”
He nodded. “Okay. I’ll go look.” He trotted up the stairs and disappeared around the corner. As soon as Scarlet was about to walk back into the living room, she heard him walking back down. She was about to get upset when he asked, “Which room is Aunt Rose’s?”
“Second door on the right,” Scarlet replied with relief.
He nodded and walked back up the stairs. After waiting for a few minutes, just in case he had any other stupid questions, she walked back to the living room and poked up the fire. She added some kindling then grabbed a log from the pile beside the fireplace and threw it on the fire.
“How long have I been out?” she heard Diesel say.
She inhaled and turned to see him sitting up on the couch. He yawned and ran his fingers through his dark hair, never taking his eyes off of her.
“Not that long.” She felt the fear rise up in her face, but at the same time she felt a bit relieved that it was her instead of Aiden there when Diesel opened his eyes. The relief didn’t last long when she remembered the dart gun on the television. “But long enough for the fire to go out. Would you mind getting this fire going again? I’m freezing.” She smiled.
He stood up and took a step toward her. She moved out of the way and quickly walked to the television and stood in front of the gun. She glanced up at the balcony and said to herself, “It’s going to be a long night.”
Chapter 15
Just As He Was About To Fire
To Aiden’s surprise, his aunt’s door opened to a pleasant, earthy bedroom. He had expected voodoo dolls, Halloween décor, crosses, and other supernatural whatnots. Instead, the neutral colors and basic bed-dresser-side table arrangement reminded him of his parents’ bedroom. It was clean, all neat and tidy. Normal.
Aiden didn’t remember much about his aunt Rose, so he didn’t figure going through her things would bring back memories of her. It felt strange, all the same, searching a room he had no business being in at all. He also felt a little sad because he had never really known his mom’s sister, even if she had been a little eccentric.
There weren’t many places to look for hidden things, so he started with the closet. He would leave the dresser as a last resort; rummaging through a woman’s dresser drawers seemed wrong, even if that woman had died.
He didn’t find anything inside the closet except for clothes and shoes, organized and color coordinated. He shut the door and looked at the dresser, shaking his head, dreading the thought. However, as he moved slowly toward it, the little table beside the bed grabbed his attention. It had a drawer. He changed directions midstride.
Two four-inch-long, silver darts with red tips rolled around in the drawer. He assumed this was where the gun had probably been kept, too. Just in case, he thought. Just in case Granny changed in the middle of the night and Rose had to use it.
He heard muffled voices and stuck the darts in his back pocket. He listened closely as he neared the cracked-open door. The passing hope that perhaps the neighbor had come back or his mom and dad had made it through the storm and were there to rescue him dashed away when he recognized Diesel’s voice.
His heart comprehended the situation before he did: Diesel’s awake…
Since the landing was open to the living room, he somehow had to get past it, to the stairs, without Diesel seeing him. If he did, Diesel wouldn’t know he wasn’t coming from the guestroom. It would be like nothing had happened since he went to sleep. No retrieving weapons or rummaging through dead people’s belongings or murder plots…
Aiden took a couple of steps and stood against the narrow wall between the door and the open landing. He peeked around the corner. Diesel had his back to him tending the fire, and Scarlet stood in front of the television. When she spotted him, she waved for him to go.
He ran. He had to slow down when he turned the corner of the stairs, where it was completely dark. When he got to the bottom of the stairwell inside the foyer, he stopped to catch his breath and to settle his senses. The sensible voice inside his head screamed, “Go to the guest room. Don’t go in the living room!” He closed his eyes and shook his head because he knew he couldn’t leave Scarlet to fend for herself again, no matter how conniving and manipulative and devious she could be. He took the dreaded step toward the light and warmth of the living room.
Standing in the doorway, he noticed Diesel and Scarlet were the same as they had been when he saw them from upstairs. Scarlet looked in his direction, and she mouthed the words, “Did you find them?”
He nodded, and Scarlet seemed to relax. She indicated with her head for him to come over to where she stood. That’s when he remembered the gun. She was hiding the gun that he had placed on the television. She probably wanted him to come get it. He walked toward her, deciding he would push the gun behind the television.
As soon as Aiden made it beside Scarlet, Diesel turned around and said, “That should do it… Aiden, I didn’t hear you come in.” He squinted, causing a frown.
Scarlet moved toward Diesel, blocking the view between the two boys.
Diesel said, “Why do you guys look like y’all are up to something?”
“Hmmm,” Scarlet said. “The only thing I’m up to is being bored. I didn’t think you were ever going to wake up from your nap.”
Not realizing the gun was almost to the front of the television, Aiden had underestimated the distance he had to cover in order to push the gun off of the back of the console. The best he could hope for: Get it in the back of his pants without being noticed.
Scarlet wrapped her arms around Diesel’s neck.
“You’re not mad at me anymore?” Diesel asked.
She giggled and whispered something before they kissed. Aiden quickly stuck the gun in the back of his pants, not sure what to do next. He could back out of the room, looking very suspicious. But he couldn’t stay standing, like a dweeb, and watch them make-out.
The kitchen was the closest, so he decided to go there. He made sure his t-shirt covered the gun and started to leave the room.
“Where are you going?” Scarlet said, stopping him in his tracks.
Aiden turned quickly so he wouldn’t reveal the gun. “I thought I would make something to eat. I didn’t eat much earlier, so now I’m hungry. So I thought I would see if I could find anything. Did y’all want anything? To eat?”
“No,” Scarlet answered with a disgusted shake of her head.
“I’m starving,” Diesel said. “After we eat, we need to start discussing tonight. What time is it anyway? I can’t believe I fell asleep.”
Scarlet stared at Aiden, her mouth slightly open and her nose wrinkled. Aiden pretended not to notice her irritation and walked into the kitchen. He looked up at the ceiling for answers and put his hands on his hips. “What does she think?” he said under his breath. Did she think he was going to shoot Diesel right there and then? “She’s crazy.” But what was he going to do? He had a gun in his pants, D
iesel could possibly turn into a werewolf at any minute, and some crazy girl wanted him to kill his cousin. He paced.
Aiden wished he had brought a lit candle with him. A small amount of light escaped from the living room, though none was offered from the kitchen window—it was pitch black outside. Perhaps the only thing he could do at the moment was to make something to eat. The gas stove still worked and would give him enough light and warmth to cook. He could cook and think. Or better yet, he thought, find some more of that stuff Scarlet gave Diesel and unload the rest into Diesel’s food. He tried to remember where she said she had found it. Pantry? He hoped there was enough left to put Diesel back to sleep. Maybe he should mix it into a drink before he gave him any food. It would be more potent on an empty stomach. “Wine, wine… more wine. Where…”
The basement? No, he didn’t remember seeing any wine in there. However, thoughts of the basement made him remember what else was down there. The cage. “That could work—that could work.” He rubbed his hands together. All he had to do was get Diesel inside the cage and that would keep them safe from him… and Diesel safe from Scarlet, until morning… or until they figured things out. It was the perfect solution. But he didn’t figure Diesel would say, “Okay,” and step inside the cage. He’d have to trick him. “Think, Aiden, think!”
Aiden walked into the living room. Diesel and Scarlet were under the quilt on the couch. Under any other circumstances he would have done an about-face and scrambled in the other direction. This time he had no choice.
He cleared his throat, and Diesel stopped kissing Scarlet and looked at Aiden. “Food ready, already?”
“Um, no… I need some help downstairs in the basement.”
Scarlet pulled the blanket off of her and jumped up a lot quicker than she should have. “Okay, I’m coming.”
“Actually, I need Diesel’s help.”
Diesel frowned. “What kind of help?”
Silverweed: a supernatural fairy tale Page 9