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

by Deidre Huesmann

  “It’s not your business!”

  “When Holden hurts you it is precisely my business!”

  He hated losing control, but Aaron had had enough with these guessing games. He glowered at the two, who stared back in stunned silence.

  “When one of my own harms another I consider part of mine, it is exactly within my jurisdiction,” he continued furiously. His voice rose as he continued his rebuke. “If you consider it so personal you must hold it close to the chest, fine. But you will divulge it to me if nobody else, because I cannot help you when you exclude vital information. Doing so is precisely why you are in this position, Rachael. If Holden had not hidden something as simple as Vera’s friendship with you then you never would have known us as lycans and she would not be dead!”

  Rachael stared at him, her jaw loose. She kept a possessive hold on Nathan.

  Then she fell back to the bed, releasing the boy so her arms fell limply at her sides. She struggled to breathe normally but her inhales were shaky and her exhales wet.

  “I can’t,” she said brokenly. “I can’t explain it. It’s... it’s my own fault.”

  “Try,” replied Aaron.

  Nathan put himself between them, facing Rachael and taking her hands in his smaller ones. “It’s okay,” he said softly. “I’ll stay.” She smiled faintly at him. Aaron bit his tongue to keep back a smart retort.

  Then, with a sigh, Rachael looked up at Aaron and spoke haltingly of what happened. How Holden threatened her, how he’d spoken so casually of murder. All things Aaron knew. But then she talked about how Holden broke into her home—twice. And then she confessed to how he’d touched her, kissed her even, and how scared it made her; how she knew it was her fault for not fighting back. That she thought so nearly made Aaron say something, but he bit his tongue and allowed her to continue.

  Rachael inhaled sharply as though sensing his anger. When he failed to comment she explained how the second time Holden tried she stabbed him with a pencil; all it did was make him pity her and put the necklace back around her throat.

  Aaron stood silently through it all. He didn’t once speak, not even to encourage her when her voice faltered. It took a long time for her to get it all out, but by the time she finished he felt he had the full story.

  In that moment he also felt he could kill Holden without a single regret.

  “Nathan,” he said mutedly. “Please leave us.”

  The boy looked like he wanted to argue, but when he glanced at Rachael she nodded and smiled weakly. “I’ll be fine,” she whispered.

  Nathan sighed and stood on his toes to kiss her cheek. Then, with a dead stare at Aaron, he turned and walked out of his own room, slamming the door behind him.

  Once his brother was out of earshot, Aaron turned to Rachael and said quietly, “Why did you hide that from me?”

  She shrugged. Her eyes refused to meet his.

  “It is unacceptable,” he continued, stepping forward. She flinched but he held up his hands in a passive gesture, waiting for her shoulders to relax again. “Let me explain. Had I known of this, I would not have used violence to get you to talk. That is the lycan way, but this was not necessarily a lycan problem. And for that I apologize.”

  Rachael stared at him, perplexed. She worked her mouth, trying to come up with a response, but in the end failed.

  Aaron sighed and lowered his hands. “Do you feel safe in your own home?”

  “No,” she admitted. “But I can’t go anywhere else.”

  “Yes, you can.” Aaron gestured for her to stand. She did, though slowly. Whether she realized it or not, Aaron had given her a stance that made them equals. And that he had to focus on for the moment. Her reactions lately were close to that of a victim of some sort of assault. She didn’t feel safe and she felt violated, and at the hands of someone she had once trusted, no less.

  Perhaps Holden had not physically harmed her, but that didn’t diminish her feelings in any way.

  Aaron had doubt Holden acted out of malice. The two had once been in love, and it was painfully clear he still held on to those emotions. But so long as Holden saw Aaron as evil, he would see Rachael as one of Aaron’s victims, and thus would believe she did not know what was best for herself.

  In a terrible way it made sense to Aaron. He couldn’t assume he would act too differently in Holden’s shoes. Sometimes the signs became muddied when it was someone who had reciprocated affection in the past. But breaking into her home, appearing at random in her bedroom, the one room in a home that should be sacred, was taking his version of love too far.

  In a level voice that masked the rage he held toward his former charge, Aaron said, “You are welcome to stay here if you are afraid to go home. I am certain I can work out an arrangement with your father that would make him feel comfortable. Jackson’s room is plenty big enough to split. A privacy curtain should not be an issue.”

  Rachael shook her head reflexively. “I can’t impose—”

  “Consider it me imposing the offer, rather than you imposing on our space,” Aaron cut in emphatically. She bit her lip and tried to look down, but Aaron instinctively did what he would have to anyone else in his pack; he gently took her by the chin and tilted her head so she was looking into his eyes. “You are not a burden, Rachael. We are here to help.”

  She blinked furiously. Aaron could only imagine the emotions that overwhelmed her in that moment.

  In a small voice she said, “Can I still train?”

  Aaron nodded.

  Rachael closed her eyes and then offered a watery smile. “Then yes. Please.”

  With another nod, Aaron released her and took a step back toward the door. “I shall inform the others of the upcoming arrangements. And soon—I cannot yet say when—I will speak with your father.”

  “He might say no,” she said.

  Aaron shrugged and smiled lazily. “We will see.”

  He opened the door and turned to go. And as he left he caught a vision in his periphery; of her hand coming up to her chin, her fingers tracing it gently. And most worryingly of all, the pink that tinted her cheeks when she did. Aaron shut the door behind him and did his best to pretend he hadn’t seen.

  But he had, and he knew his trouble had just worsened.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Rachael couldn’t believe she’d fallen for Aaron.

  The worst part was she couldn’t pinpoint precisely where or when it happened. With Holden she had felt the first glimmers around the time they had their field trip in the woods. It had been a gentle shimmer that encased her body, making her feel warm and calm.

  But this was very different. Somehow Aaron snuck up on her while remaining right in front of her the entire time. When he’d touched her this time, it was almost painfully electric. Her chin tingled when she thought of how he’d guided her to look up at him. And when he gazed at her she saw both ice and heat; rough and tender; harsh and calm.

  Rachael tried to shake the sensation but it wouldn’t leave her. And it scared her almost as much as Holden did these days. Aaron was a pack alpha, in a position of power. His methods were cut-throat and his words cold.

  So then why did he treat her so gently? Why hadn’t he dismissed her encounters with Holden as silly moments she should have fought off?

  Why did he have to be so understanding when she least expected it?

  Rachael sat on her bed in her room and stared down at the pendant cradled in her hands. The gaping maw of the wolf seemed less comical and infinitely creepier these days. Rachael wondered how much of it had to do with her feelings toward—or about—Holden.

  She also realized she hadn’t had the desire to put it on since she’d confessed everything to Aaron. If anything it felt uncomfortably warm in her hand, as though it had long since worn out its welcome in her life.

  Rachael stood and went over to her bedroom window. She shoved it open, heedless of the rain spattering against her windowsill. Then, with a shaking hand, she held the pendant out and wa
tched it wobble in the wind.

  If she let go it would symbolize letting go of Holden. That she thought she could handle. What she was less sure of was its other meaning: that she was accepting Aaron.

  It doesn’t have to be that way, her conscience reminded her. Aaron was probably just a fleeting crush, a solid figure in her life of turmoil. It made sense she would feel some sort of attachment to the only non-related man who attempted to show her what stability felt like. In time that, too, would pass and she could forget about her silly teenage fantasies.

  Except she was fairly certain he felt something for her, too.

  Rachael tightened her grip on the necklace.

  She could very well be misreading him, but Rachael’s gut didn’t say so. In fact, it tied itself in triple knots when she thought of him, so tight it also constricted her breathing.

  How odd, she thought dazedly. Once upon a time Holden had made her feel that way and now she was terrified of him. And back then Aaron scared her. But now she felt the inexplicable urge to go to the Moreno house in the middle of the night just to look into his black eyes and hear his deliberate way of speaking.

  You’ve lost your mind, she chided herself as she pulled her hand back through the window. She uncurled her fingers to stare in frustration at the pendant.

  Good heavens, why couldn’t she just let go?

  Exasperated with herself, Rachael dropped the necklace on her desk and threw herself into the chair. She wiped her hand on her jeans and flipped open her Calculus book to do homework.

  For a time, the mind-numbing process kept her preoccupied. Just two more weeks until graduation, she thought vaguely.

  Graduating. It seemed so insignificant compared to everything else. She couldn’t dredge up even an ounce of excitement for it.

  A soft knock at her door dragged her from her musings. Rachael set down her pencil and headed for the door. When she opened it she blinked in surprise. “Jackie?”

  “Hey, RayRay.” He slid past her and closed the door behind him. His expression was unusually serious, and his clothes were stained and smelled of motor oil. “I’m supposed to keep you up here for a bit.”

  “What?”

  He brought a finger to his lips and nodded toward the door. Rachael crept toward it, trying to avoid her creaky floorboard, and pressed her ear to the wood.

  Thank goodness inside doors were so thin, she thought. She could vaguely make out her father’s tired rumble along with a soft yet very distinctive voice. A flush threatened to overtake her and she fought it down, eager not to show her feelings in front of her brother.

  “He’s really doing it,” she whispered.

  Jackson nodded and pulled her away. “Listen. Dad wasn’t even mad I was here.” He’d been banned from the house last year upon their father’s discovery that Jackson’s disappearance had been more of a hoax than a true kidnapping. “He’s real gone, RayRay. And Aaron told me—well, not much, but he said you needed to stay with us.”

  She frowned quizzically. “You didn’t ask?”

  With a shrug he said, “Didn’t need to. I trust him.”

  Unbelievable. Rachael glanced around her room, suddenly awkward. “Well... I mean, have a seat if you want. I was just doing homework.”

  “Calculus? Ugh.” Jackson headed over to her book and stared down at her work. Almost immediately he pointed. “This one’s wrong. And this one.”

  “You’ve been here two minutes and you’re criticizing me,” she said dryly.

  “Hey, do you want to get it right or not? C’mon, sit down. I’ll help you out.”

  As Rachael took a seat she considered how pleasant this was. In the years their mother had been ill Jackson had completely withdrawn, preferring the company of video games over people; even that of his family. Yet here he was, two years later, offering to spend time with her and keep her attention away from the certain fiasco downstairs.

  Rachael smiled and picked up her pencil.

  With her brother’s help she was able to finish her work. Funny how when the teacher explained it so much sounded like gibberish, but when Jackson did it made a modicum of sense.

  “Thanks, Jackie,” she finally said, stretching her arms over her head. “That was killing me.”

  He snorted. “Daydreaming doesn’t help.” She froze momentarily. How did he know? But he continued on, apparently oblivious to her tension. “Have you even thought about what you want to go to college for?”

  Rachael pushed her chair away from the desk. “Not really,” she admitted. “I don’t know if I can even afford to go, not with my grades so, well... mediocre.”

  “Cortes has a good nursing program,” he suggested, folding his arms over his broad chest. “I bet you could transfer to a university later.”

  “The community college?”

  “Sure, why not? Even Dad can afford that.”

  Rachael fell quiet. Then softly she said, “I don’t think we can count on Daddy for that.”

  Jackson opened his mouth to reply, but then another knock sounded at her door. This one was firmer and made the thin slab quake with the force behind it.

  Without asking, her father opened the door. He looked exhausted; his brown hair was almost completely gray but for his beard, his eyes were bloodshot, and he looked as cranky as Rachael had ever seen him.

  “I’m going to speak with Rachael alone,” said Henry heavily.

  “Sure thing, Dad,” said Jackson quietly. He leaned over and kissed Rachael on the head before tousling her hair and ruining the moment. “Love ya.”

  Rachael swatted at him as he left. Henry heaved a grumbling sigh and lumbered to her bed and sat down. The springs creaked beneath his weight, which was at least twice as much as her own if not more.

  “Baby girl, we need to talk,” he said.

  Rachael swallowed. He hadn’t called her that since she was very, very small. All she could do was nod.

  “Now, you know me,” he muttered while rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m not good at this stuff—talking. Or parenting, really. That was all your mother. She took the edge off my rough style, and I ain’t going to find anyone like her again. Don’t know that I’m keen to even try.”

  If she hadn’t cried so much already this week, Rachael probably would have teared up at this. As it was she just inhaled sharply and said, “Daddy, you’re not—”

  Her father held up a hand for silence. His palm was as wide as a bear’s paw, and his fingers short and stubby. Jackson was going to look so much like him one day, she realized. “No, baby girl, let me finish.” When she pressed her lips together he continued. “Your brother and... Mr. Moreno, downstairs, had a bit of a ‘come to Jesus’ talk with your old man, as it were. And they’re right. You shouldn’t be here when I’m like this. It ain’t good for you.” His jaw set stubbornly. “Not easy for me to say.”

  “I know,” she whispered faintly.

  He cleared his throat, glancing toward the door as though wishing someone could come save him. “Point is you’re almost done with school. Exams are comin’ up and you don’t need to be worrying about your ol’ dad. So maybe it’s best you stay with your brother for a few weeks.”

  That was longer than it would take for her to graduate, Rachael realized. Though she knew Aaron had intended to speak with her father about this very event, a bit of panic caught in her throat. “Are... are you kicking me out?”

  To her surprise her father stood and pulled her out of her chair. Rachael found herself wrapped in a fierce hug. Aside from the powerful stench of beer, he still smelled like her dad. And it had been so long since he’d hugged her. She bit her lip hard enough to draw blood.

  “No, baby girl,” said her father gently. His voice almost sounded wet, as though he were fighting tears. “But your old man needs to get himself straight, too. Might be best you’re with someone you trust.” He pushed her away, keeping his large hands on her shoulders as he gazed down at her. In that instant he possessed a gentleness she hardly recognized i
n her own father. “I may be mad at your brother, but he’s shaped up. You can see it in his eyes. Not right for a son to be stronger than his dad.”

  Rachael blinked furiously. She was surprised she had any capacity for tears left. “I love you, Daddy,” she whispered. “Please promise I can come home soon.”

  Henry nodded. “Very soon. Your mother would never forgive me—if she even will after I get outta this slump.”

  Unable to help herself, Rachael choked on a sob and wiped her eyes. She forced a smile. “I know she will.”

  “I hope so, baby girl.” And with that her father patted her on the shoulder, his grey eyes steeling over with resolve. “Better pack. Best you get going today, before I try gettin’ stupid and change my mind.”

  Before he could turn to leave Rachael hugged him as tight as she could, burying her face in his huge shoulder. “I love you, Daddy,” she said in a strangled voice. “Can I call, at least?”

  “I won’t be here for a bit,” he said gently. “But I’ll call you. Mr. Moreno gave me his number.”

  As he left Rachael could have sworn she saw him fighting back tears. And then when she was alone it was all she could do not to collapse to the floor right there.

  Aaron had really done it. And Jackson. Rachael hiccupped and covered her mouth, closing her eyes as she took in the moment. For them to rally together, convince her father to get help, it spoke volumes of the care the pack had for her.

  A few minutes later Jackson poked his head in. “RayRay? You packing?”

  “Yeah,” she murmured. There wasn’t much she needed, so shoving her schoolwork and some change of clothes in an overnight bag should be enough. She started to leave but a glint of red caught her eye. Grudgingly she turned to look at the pendant. The wolf’s eyes glared at her accusingly from its space on the corner of her desk.

  “RayRay?”

  Rachael hoisted the bags over her shoulders and reached her free hand to the pendant. She picked it up by the chain, allowing the wolf’s head to dangle.

  Without fully understanding why, she slipped it into her pocket. The pendant burned guiltily against her thigh. Bringing it felt like betraying the pack, yet Rachael felt she still needed it. She would get rid of it, she promised herself. Just not quite yet.