Call of the Lycan (Secrets of the Sequoia Book 3)

by Deidre Huesmann

  Rachael had spent all her waking moments attempting to justify her responses to Holden earlier that morning. And that was a lot of work, considering she hadn’t been able to sleep a wink. Exhaustion tore through her, but apprehension kept her uncomfortably awake.

  She punched her sacred tree again. Once upon a time causing such pain to a symbol she had taken such comfort in would have been sacrilege.

  It was hard to remember that life nowadays. That was before Holden; before lycans. When her mother had been terminally ill but still alive. When she had never really taken much interest in boys because spending time with her mother mattered more. How awful, she thought with a grievous jolt, that she’d tarnished her mother’s memory by choosing someone like Holden.

  Then again, she did deserve it. Not her mother, but Rachael.

  She drew back a clenched fist, tightening her grip until her nails bit flesh. No doubt about it, she deserved last night. Holden hadn’t read any of her discomfort, so clearly she’d sent the wrong signals. That she’d wanted him there. That she’d enjoyed his touch. That his kiss would comfort her.

  It hadn’t.

  Rachael’s stomach and throat knotted as she recalled the faintly sweet aroma to his breath. Holden had been so close, staring straight into her eyes. If she’d truly been afraid, then she wouldn’t have allowed it and he would have noticed. If she truly had abhorred his touch she would have done something when he kissed her. Rachael could have punched him, slapped him, shoved him, pulled back, run away.

  She hadn’t done any of those things. Instead she’d just... frozen.

  But then why did she feel like that entire encounter had stripped her bare in the worst possible way?

  Rachael swung at the tree again. It was becoming too much on her knuckles to keep this up. But her frustration, guilt, and horror swelled inside her and needed a release. So she began to beat the sequoia with the sides of her fists in rhythmic fury.

  And then a sob escaped her throat and she sunk to the forest floor. The pine needles and branches were wet from the early morning’s rain. They soaked her knees. Rachael kept hitting the tree, her arms aching and hands throbbing.

  She could hate Holden for what he’d done to Vera all she wanted, but how could she blame him for last night? No matter how many times she went through her reactions in her mind none of them pointed to his error. It was all on her.

  Her fault.

  Rachael emitted a choked scream and slammed her forehead against the sequoia. All it did was bring the agony inside her skull to the outside. She hit the tree again, this time weakly.

  She should have made him leave. She shouldn’t have allowed him to say his piece. She should have denied any and everything about her night out with Aaron. She shouldn’t have permitted his touch, and especially not his kiss. And, of course, she’d failed to make him leave right after and Holden had continued to talk.

  My own stupid, stupid fault, thought Rachael. She didn’t even deserve her own self-pity.

  That acknowledgement didn’t cease her tears or despair.

  Rachael was so wrapped up in her misery that she didn’t hear anyone approaching. When a cold nose touched her arm she started. The first thing she glimpsed was white fur and terror seized her body. Holden?

  But a closer look proved it wasn’t him. The wolf was white but smaller and tinged with gold. Its eyes were inky black without the typical gold specks that accompanied lycans.

  “Nathan?” she whispered.

  The wolf let out a small whine and lowered its head. Then it pressed closer and nudged her arm until its head fit under her elbow. Rachael emitted a small cry and turned to wrap her arms completely around the wolf. She clutched its wiry fur and buried her face in its flank. The warmth radiating from its body seemed to ease the floodgates and she burst into a fit of hysterical sobs.

  The entire time the wolf tried to nuzzle her face. A hot tongue lapped at her cheek, which wiped away the tears but replaced it with hot dog breath. In spite of herself Rachael let out a quaking laugh.

  Once her crying subsided she pulled back a little. “I’m sorry,” she said. Her head pulsated just behind her stinging eyes. “I shouldn’t have let you see me like this.”

  The wolf huffed a little, as though to say that was a silly notion.

  She wiped her damp face on the sleeve of her sweater. “What are you doing out here, anyway?”

  The wolf cocked its head as though to say, What are you doing out here?

  “I don’t know, I just...” She glanced away, heaving a sigh. “Haven’t felt good. Needed to get away.”

  Ears twitched toward her.

  She winced. “Promise you won’t tell Jackie,” she begged quietly. “Or—or Aaron. I know that’s messed up, I know they’re your pack, but they can’t know. I need to work through this myself.”

  The wolf shook its head slightly and then butted her hand with its head.

  With a weighted pause to consider what wolf-Nathan was trying to say, she sat back on her heels. “You’re gonna tell Aaron?” she asked tentatively. The wolf shook its head no. “Jackson?” Another no. “Then... you don’t want me to do this alone?” An affirming grunt followed her words. Doubt seeped into her chest. “If I tell you, you have to promise to keep quiet. Not even tell Ana Sofia.”

  The wolf grunted again.

  It seemed crazy to spill her guts to a wolf—much less a small child in wolf form—but Rachael’s stomach knot loosened once she began.

  Through the retelling of her night, wolf-Nathan sat on its haunches with rapt attention. Its black, expressive eyes showed a surprising array of emotions as she spoke: confusion, agitation, and sadness. The wolf’s tail remained low to the ground and twitched every now and then.

  Perhaps it was his lack of speech, but venting to Nathan was cathartic. Agitation continued to seep out of Rachael’s bones. She didn’t exactly feel better, not in her chest, but some of the weight pressing upon her shoulders lifted a little.

  By the time she was done, her lack of sleep hit her like a boulder. Rachael sagged against the sequoia and wished desperately for a bed.

  Just not hers.

  The wolf let out a low whine and rested its small head against her thigh. Rachael began scratching its ear before realizing what she was doing. But if the wolf minded, it didn’t show. Its head lolled to the side to allow her to scratch below the ridge.

  She rubbed her eyes with the palm of her free hand. “Geez,” she whispered. “What am I supposed to do?”

  Though the wolf couldn’t answer in its current form, it licked her hand as though to say she wasn’t alone. Rachael accepted the company with gratitude and stayed in the forest for some time. Wolf-Nathan appeared content to be with her for the time being.

  Rachael was so bled dry of emotion that she soon fell asleep propped up between the sequoia and wolf-Nathan.

  Whilst she napped, the wolf kept an eye on her, intent to tear to shreds the first person to try harming her. She was clearly vulnerable and felt alone. Even if it was just for an hour, she needed to feel protected and safe.

  After all, she was Aaron’s little ray of sunshine.

  Chapter Six

  When Rachael returned to the house with his brother in wolf form leading the way, Aaron immediately noticed her raw hands and forehead. Oddly enough she looked a little better rested than when she had first come over. Her eyes were dark, puffy, and bloodshot, but her feet didn’t drag quite so heavily over the grass.

  Aaron folded his arms over his chest and remained in front of the sliding glass door. “That looks quite painful, Ms. Adair.”

  She frowned at him but refused to elaborate. “You have any bandages?”

  With a slight nod inside, he said, “Master restroom.”

  Politely she thanked him before she slipped around him and disappeared into the house. Aaron turned his gaze to his brother, who looked up at him guilelessly.

  “Go get dressed,” said Aaron.

  Nathan bowed his furry head
and trotted through the open door. Aaron stared out into the woods, but of course it revealed nothing. He turned to follow his brother.

  He found Nathan in his room along with Ana Sofia. The girl sat upon the single bed, squinting in concentration at a Spanish-to-English workbook Aaron had assigned her. Nathan shifted to his human form and, unashamed of his nakedness, strode to his dresser to find pants. Ana Sofia didn’t even look up. Strangely, for a child her age she’d never once expressed interest in the nudity of the opposite sex.

  Definitely a good thing in many ways.

  Aaron waited until his brother had buttoned his jeans before speaking. “What happened out there?”

  Blond eyebrows pulled together as though forcefully stitched. “I found her punching a tree,” said Nathan. He rummaged through another drawer for a shirt and quickly settled for a crew neck with red and navy blue stripes. “But I dunno why. She just seemed really sad.”

  Resisting the urge to roll his eyes at Nathan’s obviousness, Aaron said, “You did not ask her what was wrong?”

  “’Course I did,” said Nathan, offended. He snagged a pair of black-toed socks and sat on his bed close to Ana Sofia. “But she didn’t tell me nothin’.”

  “She did not tell you anything,” corrected Aaron.

  “Yeah, that.”

  He was skeptical of Nathan’s answers, but at this point Aaron couldn’t confidently say whether it was due to past events or an honest gut conviction. Instead he motioned to Ana Sofia and said, “Help her with her homework.”

  “Sí!” Nathan asked in Spanish for Ana Sofia to scoot over. The girl finally looked up at him and solemnly complied. Her murky brown-and-gold eyes remained clouded over, but she at least seemed more content than when she had first officially come into the pack.

  “Estudio mucho,” instructed Aaron. Then he made his way to his room.

  The room itself was dark, but a blue-white light peeked out from the cracked door of the master bathroom. Aaron gave a short rap with his knuckles before pushing the door open. Rachael didn’t look up, instead choosing to stare in confusion at the emergency supply kit spread out over the vast vanity counter.

  “I can’t find the Band-Aids,” she muttered.

  Aaron approached her from the side, reaching across her to pick out a roll of white bandage. “You need something with more coverage,” he replied. Then he deftly picked out a bottle of antiseptic and a small baggie of cotton balls. “Hands.”

  She shot him a sideways glance but willingly showed him both the tops and bottoms of her hands. It appeared Nathan hadn’t been lying; she’d certainly struck something with intensity.

  Without a word Aaron soaked a cotton ball in the antiseptic and dabbed her wounds. Rachael hissed between her teeth but held still.

  As he worked, Aaron murmured, “Do you intend to tell me what happened?”

  Her muscles stiffened along with her voice. “I dunno. Are you going to let me do anything to help you guys?”

  “‘You all.’” He knew now was not the time to correct her, but avoiding direct questions was an unfortunate specialty of his. “‘You guys’ implies we all possess an XY chromosome. Ana Sofia does not.”

  Just above his head she groaned. “Don’t you ever get tired of that?”

  A smirk curled his lips. Aaron set down his supplies and reached for the bandages. “Of not answering you?”

  “Of correcting grammar.” She paused as he began to firmly wrap her injuries. “And that.”

  “Not particularly.” Aaron finished one hand and moved on to the next. Then he straightened up and reached out to smooth Rachael’s hair away from the scrapes on her forehead. She visibly flinched, which almost gave him pause. Instead he mentally filed that reaction away for a later conversation. “I take pride in my knowledge of the English language. And any other, for that fact.”

  She snorted. “How many?”

  “Time has helped me learn...” He paused to count. “Five.”

  “Geez.”

  Aaron quickly cleaned her forehead as well, but this time he found a large Band-Aid and taped it over her forehead. “Two dialects of Spanish, and one of English, Japanese, Italian, and Korean.”

  Rachael tried to raise an eyebrow but quickly realized the bandage made that uncomfortable. “Just those?”

  He shrugged. “Just those fluently.”

  She shook her hair, but the barest of smiles touched her face. “Show-off.”

  “You asked,” he pointed out.

  “Yeah, guess I did.” Rachael lifted her hands. “Thanks for the help.”

  Aaron nodded and leaned casually against the threshold. The way she tensed at the move was off; something she hadn’t done in nearly three years since they had first met. “So what happened?”

  A tinge of red graced her ears. “I just... I got mad. At everything. And punched a tree. Thought it would make me feel better.”

  For some reason it unnerved him that her and Nathan’s explanations matched perfectly. “Did it?”

  “Not really,” she admitted. “My hands just hurt.”

  “Take care of them,” he said. “It will take some time to heal.”

  “Mm.” Rachael shifted her weight to one foot. “So... can I go now?”

  He was reluctant, but Aaron had no reason to keep her. He stepped backward into the bedroom and relief washed over her features. “Do you need a ride home?”

  Blinking rapidly as though the idea had never occurred to her, Rachael stumbled over her next words. “Oh—yeah. Yes, please.”

  “Get your things and say good night to your brother, then. I will meet you downstairs.”

  She nodded and drifted out toward Jackson’s room. Aaron paused at his closet to put on a light jacket before he entered the hallway.

  Jackson’s door was closed, but Nathan’s was wide open. He and Ana Sofia murmured in voices so low even he had trouble hearing them. Ana Sofia’s little eyes were enormous and she nodded a lot, while Nathan’s back was to the door and he leaned in over her workbook to whisper.

  From the hallway, Aaron said dryly, “That does not appear to be studying.”

  Nathan’s head shot up, though his expression was mild. On the other hand, Ana Sofia wore her guilt on her sleeve. “Perdóname,” she said in a small voice. She picked up her pen and began to scribble again.

  Rather than return his attention to his friend, Nathan stood. “Can I ask you something?” Aaron nodded. “It’s about Miss Rachael.”

  Of course it was.

  Nathan drew in a deep breath. “I’ve been thinkin’... can’t we take her with us when we go?”

  Lycans had to move every couple of years. While they did age, the process was slow and yet varied in its sluggish pace for each lycan. Too long in one place meant somebody would notice their apparent lack of aging at a normal pace.

  With a slight grimace, Aaron shook his head. “No. She is human and her place is not with us.”

  “She doesn’t have to stay human.”

  If Aaron hadn’t known better, he would have thought the two were conspiring against him. Flatly he said, “No.”

  His brother sighed. “We can’t just leave her alone like this.”

  “Once we are gone, Holden will follow,” said Aaron quietly. “It seems he is determined to kill one of us.”

  Alarm sharpened Nathan’s eyes. The boy shot Ana Sofia a subtle glance. When he looked back to Aaron and received a nod of confirmation, his gaze hardened. It was surprising; Aaron had never seen his eyes become so opaque. It was unsettlingly akin to what he saw when he looked in a mirror.

  “Has he gone crazy?” asked Nathan.

  Aaron shrugged. He didn’t think the word fully encompassed Holden’s more recent actions, but the young man appeared to teeter on the edge. Only a gust of wind might be required to push him over.

  “Then we definitely can’t leave Miss Rachael,” said Nathan resolutely. “She won’t be safe.”

  Part of Aaron found the boy’s stubbornness on t
he subject suspicious. But the other part acknowledged that, in his way, Nathan had formed an attachment to the young lady.

  Aaron certainly could see how. Rachael had met them as a sensitive and naïve girl, but over the years her unfortunate circumstances had transformed her into someone a bit sharper, a little more healthily skeptical, and all while retaining a good dose of compassion and protective nature. She was growing up; rapidly becoming a young woman who didn’t quite have a place in the world and nowhere to safely rest her feet.

  It just about killed Aaron to refuse her request to become infected. Her potential was enormous. He had no doubt she could easily lead a pack of her own in a few short decades, just as he had.

  “What do you propose?” asked Aaron quietly. He did his best not to deride Nathan, though at times it was difficult to hold back.

  His brother straightened his stance and spread his feet slightly. Onyx eyes gleamed as he said, “Teach her how to defend herself. That way we know she’s safe against other lycans.”

  Aaron was about to point out that Holden only intended her harm if she became infected, but he abruptly reconsidered. Apparently his former charge had become enraged at the faint scent of Aaron on Rachael several hours and a shower after they had once—very briefly and very chastely—embraced. Who knew what else might set Holden off these days?

  Aside from that, Nathan was right. Leaving her utterly defenseless knowing what she knew was just cruel.

  Little pinpricks of guilt jabbed his conscience. Aaron rolled his eyes to the ceiling as though his brother’s idea was burdensome. Heavily, he said, “That may actually be prudent.”

  Nathan beamed.

  Unable to fend off a swell of pride at his brother’s ingenuity, Aaron decided to leave the room before it showed on his face. “Consider who, how, where, and when,” he said. “Since it was your idea, I believe you ought to plan it out.” He paused in the doorway. “We have until winter.”

  The timeline was shorter than originally anticipated, so Nathan’s shock and worry was to be expected. Even so the boy nodded. “I’ll get right on it.”