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

by Deidre Huesmann

  Holden sighed and removed the bowl once it seemed she wasn’t going to hurl again. He went to the tiny attached kitchen, wetted some towels, and cleaned up as best he could.

  His apartment reeked. He’d tried subverting the stench with scented candles and incense, but it only soured the smell to a rancid bittersweet. Holden could hardly stand to be there, but he had to if she was to trust him once she made it through the transition.

  Once he’d cleaned, Holden lifted her in a cradling motion as though she were a baby. Within days she’d already lost a few pounds; the side effects of the infection and a regrettable inability to retain liquids. Holden moved her to another area and laid down a fresh blanket before gingerly placing her back in the corner.

  Holden wetted a towel and wiped her face. Then he stuffed the ruined bedding into a trash bag and tied it shut. He then poured her a glass of water and urged her to drink with moderate success. Clear liquid spilled down her front as she tried to swallow. When she coughed he patted her back before offering her more.

  He was taking care of her the best he could. And Holden knew how. This was not his first rodeo, so to speak.

  After she finished her glass he covered her with a winter coat. Tomorrow he would have to wash all the bedding at the laundromat down the street.

  For now, he sat cross-legged by her side. Holden gently moved a stray hair caught in her eyelashes.

  “I’m sorry,” he said as gently as possible. “Once you get past this it’ll get better. I always thought being a lycan was awful, but there are some benefits.”

  For a moment Coleen acted lucid. “Like what?” she asked in a dry, cracked voice.

  “As a wolf, you’re faster. Stronger. We heal a little quicker than humans—I’m sure you were told a lot of this.” His brow furrowed as he recalled the mess he’d made a few days earlier. “I bet Aaron’s healing up even though he didn’t go to the hospital.”

  The failing memory hadn’t set in yet. Coleen licked her lips and said, “You shot him.”

  “I had him,” he said bitterly. “I had the advantage. And the stupid gun—I can’t believe how close I was.”

  She closed her eyes. “Why?”

  “Why am I trying to kill him?” She nodded in answer and Holden scowled. “Because he’s a monster. He just runs around infecting people like it’s nothing, like this is some great gift and he’s God. And then he ruins them from the inside out. I mean, geez, Roxi actually scared Rachael’s mother to death. On purpose. How twisted can you get?”

  Coleen’s eyes fluttered open. The look her blue eyes gaze him was surprisingly sharp and sardonic. “No kidding.”

  Holden ignored her. “He’s actually got Ray convinced that this is going to help her somehow. She’s going to ask him to infect her, I know it. I guess that part’s my fault, I mean, I took Vera from her.” He angrily rubbed a hand against his scalp. “Really wish I could take that back. It was so stupid and impulsive. I should have focused on him from the start.”

  “You don’t say.” Her voice seemed fainter, and Holden’s head shot up.

  He leaned over her, his eyes narrowing. “Are you trying to sleep? Don’t you dare die on me.”

  For a minute all she did was draw shallow breaths. A tiny curve lifted her lips. Then her lids lifted the barest of fractions. Small crimson dots welled to bead-sized tears in the corners of her eyes.

  “Marlene,” she whispered hoarsely. “I can’t wait to see you.”

  And then, to Holden’s disappointment, she stopped breathing at all.

  Chapter Twelve

  Coleen’s confirmed disappearance only raised a slight level of fear in school. Rachael couldn’t say she was particularly surprised. After the rash of kids had gone missing last fall, it was almost as though Keeton had slowly come to accept as a collective that these things were bound to happen. People were still afraid, of course, but the shock had worn off.

  Though she wasn’t surprised, the news was disquieting. Rachael couldn’t explain why her stomach churned, but the thought that her classmate was dead plagued her waking thoughts. She tried to ask Aaron about it, but he was surprisingly scarce when she visited the house.

  When she eventually managed to inquire, he just looked at her with a frown and said, “I told you, I cannot take in more lycans. And this time Nathan has not been out of my sight for days.” Nathan’s grimace across the room confirmed his alibi—as well as the boy’s distaste for their new arrangement.

  Go figure, thought Rachael numbly. They loved each other more than anything, yet like any other family they couldn’t stand being cooped up together.

  “But that’s not what I asked,” she persisted. “I asked if you knew anything. I don’t know why, but I can’t shake the feeling she’s....” Her voice trailed off, unable to form the word.

  Aaron looked past her, his expression infuriatingly blank. “While I admire your instincts I cannot say how correct they are.”

  Rachael glared at him and folded her arms across her chest. Before she could argue further Nathan jumped up and said, “Break’s over! C’mon, Miss Rachael.”

  Since Aaron took that as his cue to leave, she sighed and followed Nathan into the back yard.

  Over the course of a couple weeks Rachael noticed that her sense of Aaron’s presence heightened. Which was odd, because she’d always been hyper-aware of him from the first day they had met.

  But that had been fear guiding her emotions. This was different. Rachael still experienced discomfort around him but didn’t have the urge to flee. She never caught him staring or doing anything uncouth, yet the few times they shared breathing space she could have sworn she felt his aura sizzling across her skin. It was so much like her old terror of lycans and still so different that Rachael couldn’t tell if she wanted to be around Aaron more or less.

  Sometimes she was in the same room with him during her training, but Rachael was beginning to suspect Nathan was engineering these scenarios on purpose.

  Though when it did happen, she found his excuses subtle but clever.

  “Your reaction time is too slow,” said Nathan critically one warm afternoon. He placed his hands on narrow hips, dark eyes scrutinizing her. “Lycans aren’t just fast; we’re quiet. Listen for us, even when you’re busy.”

  Rachael winced as she stretched her arms, perched uncomfortably on the front porch. Her bottom hurt from taking too many falls. “I know,” she said. “I’m trying. I don’t use anything for background noise at home anymore so I can keep my ears open.”

  Nathan nodded, but he didn’t approve. “It’s good, but it won’t always be like that. You gotta listen during everyday stuff, too.”

  She sighed and lowered her arm. “So what should I do?”

  With a slight tilt of his head so that blond hair fell in his eyes, Nathan grinned. “Take a break. Go watch TV and I’ll make cocoa.”

  Relieved for the pause, Rachael removed her shoes and padded into the house in her socks. She left her sneakers in the foyer and turned to enter the living room. There she hesitated; Aaron sat on the couch, his legs taking up the chaise and his attention on a Western novel with a well-worn spine.

  This another type of situation she thought Nathan was engineering. But what was she supposed to do, claim she wasn’t up for his games and leave? Aaron would find her crazy.

  When Rachael crept in and took a seat, he didn’t look at her. Rachael blew out a soft breath, looked for the remote, and turned on the television. But for some reason she felt self-conscious. The news didn’t really interest her but she also didn’t want to look for her usual programming in his presence. She didn’t want to listen to Aaron’s mocking comments about her choice.

  “Watch whatever you like.” Aaron only murmured but his voice was so unexpected that Rachael jumped. “I have endured enough of Nathan’s shows to learn not to judge.”

  Rachael’s ears heated.

  In an effort to distract herself, she brought up the cable guide and clicked through her options. A
fter a couple minutes she found a movie her mother had once enjoyed. It was not really her thing, but it brought back inviting memories of lazy, warm afternoons with her mom.

  True to his word, Aaron did not comment or even look up from his book.

  Even with a good couple feet between them Rachael could have sworn she felt the heat from Aaron’s blood. She fidgeted, wondering where Nathan was with the cocoa, and at last turned to ask Aaron if he could hear anything from the kitchen.

  No sooner had she received his attention did Nathan spring up from behind the armrest on Aaron’s side. He grabbed the cushion and leapt deftly over his brother, a frightful snarl on his lips.

  Rachael didn’t even have time to scream. A small gasp flew down her throat and she swung the only thing she had in her hand. The remote connected with Nathan’s head. The boy toppled over the back of the couch with a yelp and a crash.

  Foreign, hysterical laughter filled the air. Rachael panted from the rush of adrenaline. Her body lay halfway over an armrest with the remote in a death grip; apparently she’d tried to fall back and twisted when Nathan came at her.

  Then, after a wild look around, her eyes settled on Aaron and she realized the laughter was coming from him.

  She didn’t think she’d ever heard him genuinely laugh before, but right then he was nearly doubled over, clutching his wounded shoulder as he got the last few chuckles out. Nathan slowly peered over the backrest, eyeing his brother and sharing a pointed grin with him.

  At last Aaron sighed and leaned back. “Well done, Rachael,” he said, still smiling. “And that was an excellent fall, Nathan.”

  His little brother stood proudly. “I’m not even hurt! I kept loose like ya told me to.” He crawled over to sit next to Aaron, ignoring the man’s chastising about putting his feet on the furniture. “She’s getting’ better, just like I said.”

  Aaron nodded and shifted his wounded shoulder with a barely perceptible wince. “Yes. I see that.”

  Uncomfortable with the praise, Rachael set down the remote and stood. “Did you make hot chocolate, Nathan?”

  Guilt colored the boy’s face. “Uh...”

  “I’ll get it.” She strode past the two. The house was too stuffy with all the excitement, she decided. In the kitchen there was a small window with a screen looking into the right half of the back yard. She opened it. A gust of mild spring air felt good on her cheeks.

  Rachael was glad Nathan believed her training had an effect. He wouldn’t say how long they would be doing this, just that he wouldn’t stop until the pack had to leave again. For that she was grateful.

  But the rate he pushed things she had the sinking feeling the pack would leave sooner rather than later—perhaps even this year. And she wasn’t ready.

  Though to be fair, she never would be.

  Rachael filled a teapot with tap water and set it on the stove. While she prepared the cups with instant hot cocoa packets, her skin suddenly began to crawl with that too-cozy crackling heat. Her back stiffened.

  “Just me,” said Aaron behind her. His arm entered her periphery as he opened a cabinet just above her head and pulled down the coffee grounds. He didn’t linger, nor did he touch her, but the air still grew thick and heady.

  Blinking stupidly, Rachael wondered why the room warmed up so quickly again. She moved closer to the window and welcomed the slight breeze that wafted in.

  Aaron set the coffee machine and left to the sound of water bubbling. Not another word or glance toward her.

  So why did she feel so... oddly charged?

  Rachael shook her head. She leaned against the counter and thought back over the past few days. Aaron’s behavior wasn’t unusual, so she wasn’t sure why her body screamed at her that something was going on. The only slightly weird thing she’d noticed was that he still favored his left shoulder. That was cause for concern; he should have mostly healed by now, if not fully.

  But then why did she notice him around more? He wasn’t around more, but the atmosphere changed once she noticed him nearby. Rachael inhaled deeply to calm her heart. It pulsated erratically and tried to catch in her throat. Excitement seeped into her in small doses until she became slightly woozy.

  It wasn’t fear, though. So her heightened anxiety could only mean her instincts were telling her one thing.

  Aaron was hiding something.

  It made sense. He was too calm, not bothering to push her buttons, and withdrawing to the point of suspicion. Since he’d allowed her to see his injury, Aaron had cooled to near frozen temperatures.

  The teapot whistled for her attention. Rachael pulled away from the counter and finished making the cocoa. Before she grabbed the mugs she hesitated, and then she pulled down two more.

  When she re-entered the living room, Nathan had changed the channel and Aaron had gone back to his book. She pressed a yellow mug in Nathan’s hands first then turned to Aaron and offered a simple white cup. His eyes flickered at her over the page with calm question.

  “I brought your coffee,” she said.

  Aaron graciously accepted the bitter drink and leaned back. “Thank you.”

  And that was all. Confused but somewhat relieved, Rachael went back to the kitchen to prepare and serve Ana Sofia a drink as well.

  Aside from talk of Coleen’s vanishing act, the next week was utterly uneventful. Rachael didn’t feel she was getting much better in her time with Nathan lately, but the boy repeatedly assured her she was learning.

  Yet she still hesitated to swing when he or Ana Sofia were in their human form. Like with Roxi years before, their appearances were so small and childlike that it always stunned her when they broke through her defenses. It was too easy for them to best her. Rachael understood she had to get past it but she didn’t know how.

  Nathan continued to surprise her during her visits. His attacks were so varied in timing and location that Rachael could scarcely catch her breath. Once he tore the bathroom door off its hinges when she was washing her hands. Rachael spun and hurled a bar of soap at him. Nathan ducked, but it hit the wall with a sharp crack and they both cringed.

  At the sound Aaron came to check on them. He took one look at the wall, and then a longer look at the bathroom door lying on its long edge. With a dark scowl he said, “Nathan, you agreed no property damage.”

  “You kiddin’? That’s impossible,” exclaimed Nathan. “Besides, she was awesome!”

  Aaron caught Rachael’s eyes directly for the first time in several days. Her heart skipped a beat as the glance stretched into half a minute.

  Then he said with complete calm, “Work on your aim.” He turned and walked down the stairs.

  Rachael let out a painful breath. Across the hall, Nathan scowled after his brother.

  “I told him stuff would break,” he muttered under his breath. “But he was all, ‘No-o-o, you’ll just decapitate the value of the house.’”

  She couldn’t smother a short laugh in time. At his inquisitive gaze, Rachael lowered her hand and said around a smile, “I think you mean depreciate.”

  Dark eyes blinked at her. “Why, what’d I say?”

  With another laugh, Rachael shook her head and retrieved the bar of soap. She helped Nathan rest the door against the wall out of the walkway.

  By the time they finished picking up small splinters from the carpet Ana Sofia came out of her and Nathan’s room. She tugged on Rachael’s shirt.

  “Hungry,” she said.

  Rachael looked down at her. “Did you finish your homework?”

  “Sí.”

  The days after school were very similar to that; go to the Moreno house, train in whatever Nathan had decided, fix dinner for the kids and sometimes the adults, and then go home to do her own cleaning and homework. Once upon a time it might have been too busy, but Rachael was grateful her schedule was so tightly packed. During the day it kept her mind off the things that haunted her before she fell asleep.

  Graduation crept ever closer and Rachael was able to relax a li
ttle. She had final exams coming up, but her grades were enough that she would graduate unless she failed half her tests. Compared to the other stressors in her life it hardly seemed to matter.

  While her classmates were getting ready for prom and tests, Rachael had her ego handed to her in a daily basis by a kid who hardly looked older than nine.

  Her skills were improving, though. Evading Nathan gradually became easier. Fighting back against an ambush between him and Ana Sofia began to leave her with fewer scrapes and contusions.

  One Saturday afternoon she made lunch for everyone. The kids ate in the kitchen and conversed in Spanish. Rachael brought a plate up to Jackson. Instead of playing video games he was deeply immersed into what looked like an auto technical manual.

  She set his food down by the computer and leaned over his shoulder. “I thought you were building Mustangs?”

  Jackson waved at her crossly. “Your hair’s in my face.”

  “Sorry.” Rachael stepped away and tucked her hair behind her ears.

  He tabbed a page and set the book down before swiveling in his office chair to face her. “I am. But German engineering is pretty rad. I’m thinking about getting a VW Bug after this one’s done.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “Aren’t those expensive?”

  Jackson rolled his eyes and grabbed the fork she’d set down, jabbing at a piece of chicken in his stir fry. “I said a VW, RayRay, not an Audi.”

  It was all foreign to her. Rachael just shrugged and asked, “Have you seen Aaron?”

  Jackson opened his book again and leaned over it. “I think he’s taking a nap in his room.”

  “Thanks.”

  She sidled down the hallway, hesitating just outside his door. It was slightly ajar and there seemed to be no light within. She knocked lightly and pushed.

  “Aaron?” she asked in a quiet voice. “I made stir fry if you’re hungry.”

  No answer. He lay atop the covers, fully clothed but for the fact his button-up shirt was open to reveal his chest. One arm covered his eyes and his mouth was relaxed. It occurred to her that she had never seen Aaron so peaceful.