by Rachel Hera
“But cool?”
“No one thinks you’re cool,” he told me.
“You just said –”
“I don’t remember saying anything.”
“Well… I think I’m cool.”
“That’s the first sign to knowing someone is uncool,” Blake looked at me as if he pitied me, and I punched his shoulder.
“You’re an ass.”
“Now that is a word often used to describe me by… just about everyone,” he said.
I just nodded.
“You’re supposed to deny it,” he mock whispered.
“I’ve never been one to lie bluntly to someone’s face,” I patted his shoulder as I got to my feet. For the past ten minutes, my bladder had been reaching its limit. Laughing wasn’t helping. “I’ll be back in five minutes.”
“I might not be here when you get back,” he warned.
Bullshit, I thought, heading for the nearest entrance. It was a stairwell entrance, and I debated for an instant going upstairs to the bathroom, since it may have been just a tiny bit closer than the first floor bathroom. But, not feeling like climbing the stairs if I didn’t have to, I made my way down the hall.
Like all the washrooms in the school, and basically public washroom setup across the world, the girls’ washroom was next to the boys’. That being said, the likelihood that a boy was going to exit the bathroom at the same time a girl did was pretty slim during class. Even slimmer that the boy, who exited at the same time as me, was Cole.
The first thought that crossed my mind was that I hoped that he washed his hands.
“I’m surprised your lapdogs aren’t with you,” Cole said, wiping his hands on his jeans. They left a light wet spot. I guess for all that Cole was, at least he wasn’t unclean.
“Lapdogs?” I raised an eyebrow.
“The two dopes that are at your beck and call?” he said it as if it should have served as a reminder. When I made no move to acknowledge he was talking about Blake and Jason, he sighed. “The two I assume you’re screwing so that they continue to keep you company at school.”
This was it. The opportunity to use the comeback had come a hell of a lot sooner than I had ever imagined it would. I almost shouted it in his face –this was so exciting. For once I wouldn’t be thinking of clever retorts long after the moment had passed me by.
I rolled my eyes. “Whatever Cole. If that’s what helps you jerk off at night.” I turned and began walking away. Man, that felt good. I’d have to tell Maddie about this. Feeling confident, I added, “Dickhead.”
Cole grabbed my arm, shoving me against the locker. The sound echoed through the halls, and the two of us were silent, waiting for a classroom to stir, or a teacher to react. Nothing. Cole still had hold of my arm, his grip tight as he continued to keep me pressed against the locker. My heart was beating quickly, surprised that he had reacted at all. We’d been verbally at each other’s throats for the past three years, but this was the first time he’d ever taken action.
In a low voice he snarled, “You should really start watching what you say to me. I’m getting real sick of your shit.”
“And you should back the hell off,” I said through grinding teeth, jerking my arm from his grasp and pushing him away. “Don’t you ever touch me again. Freaking douchebag.”
Unclean or clean, the guy disgusted me. I was halfway down the hall before I glanced back. Thankfully, he was gone. I rubbed my arm; the grip he’d held me with had been surprisingly strong. My heart was still beating rapidly from the surprise of the moment as I hurried back outside to find Blake.
He, despite his words, was exactly where I left him. He smiled when he first saw me, which I found oddly comforting. But it faded quickly as I reached him.
“Are you okay?” as he asked the question he sat up straight.
“Don’t worry about it,” I told him, sitting down. “Just Cole being a jerk.”
“What’d he do?” Blake persisted.
“Nothing I can’t handle,” I inhaled deeply, letting the breath leave me slowly. “So, what were we talking about?”
“Your arm’s red,” he ignored my attempt at changing the subject. A direct contrast to Cole’s grip, Blake took my arm gently, looking at the red skin.
“Allergic reaction to the soap. I always forget I’m allergic to that stuff. This happens so often,” I looked down at it and shrugged.
“You washed your arm and not your hands?”
Well, he got me there. And here I thought I was being clever.
“What happened?”
“He grabbed me. But it’s fine. Like I said, Blake, it’s nothing I can’t handle. I’ve been fighting these battles since long before you came. I’ll be fighting them long after you leave.”
“You expect me to leave?”
“You’re the one who moves all the time,” I reminded him.
“My father’s promised we aren’t moving for a long time. I’m not going anywhere. I have the muscle, Evelyn. I’ll fight your battles if you need the extra support.”
“When I need it, I’ll let you know,” I said. “But, for now, can we drop it? I’m good –so what does it matter, really?”
“Fine,” he resigned, leaning back against the wall.
We sat there, staring at our feet, unsure of what to say but accepting the silence. In the distance, a swan chased some idiot that didn’t know what a bastard the beautiful creature was –the swan, after all, was notorious for snapping and biting people on occasion. I watched the white-feathered bird slow down, its wings still spread defensively until the culprit who’d pissed it off was a satisfying ways away. Slowly its wings settled back down by its side, and it just sat down on the spot.
“Want to go get something from the cafeteria?” Blake asked after a moment. The silence had dissipated whatever anger that had been forming due to his persistence. Had he been watching the bird, too?
“What time is it?”
He checked his watch. “Two thirty.”
“Cafeteria’s closed.”
“Damn.”
Damn, indeed.
Chapter 19: Shayne
I arrived home three days earlier than I had thought I would. Mr. Smith met me at my car, opening the trunk and gathering my bags. I hesitated as I closed the driver’s door, debating on whether I should go and visit Evelyn, as she would be arriving home from school soon. She had the look, the feel –but something still felt off. That could not be denied. But one had to wonder if I only felt this way because she was in front of me. That I had found the reincarnation of Evangeline was surreal to begin with. Maybe I was just in disbelief.
And I thought absence was supposed to make the heart grow fonder.
The decision was made for me when Mr. Smith paused by my side to mention something to me: “Your father arrived earlier. He’s inside.”
I did not reply as I followed behind Mr. Smith back to the house. We went our two separate ways when we entered through the kitchen door. He went to drop my things in my room, and I went to the sitting room, expecting that my father would be there.
My father appeared to be in his forties. His black hair was kept relatively short, but combed in such a way that I was sure my mother would call ‘classy.’ His silver-blue eyes were as cold as ever when he looked at me, and I could see his square jaw tick. It pissed him off that I looked so much like my older brother, who had died a hundred and sixty-eight years ago; a mere year before I met Evangeline.
The anniversary I had gone to Europe for had been that of my brother’s death. I had seen my father there from a distance, though I had not approached him. The only time I spoke with him was for work. Sixteen years ago, I had decided to clear my name within the vampire community for James’ sake –and the only one that could make it possible was the same man that had ruined me.
James had not gone this year, though he had usually tagged along in years prior. He was at that rebellious age, and would rather spend it pining after a girl than to visit the grave of
a man he never knew, or to spend two weeks with his mother. I expected that to be the reason why my father had shown up out of the blue. He had to be here to see James –that, or he had work for me to do –because the last time he had gone out of his way to see me was after he had poisoned Evangeline.
Red was all I saw when I looked at my father. She died in my arms because of him. He drugged her. He poisoned her. He made sure I could not reach the apothecary for the cure in time. It was all in his plan –every instance of that night. And, to this day, I did not understand why he did it.
Oh, how many instances I had I spent planning out the way I would kill him if I could? One could only imagine how fast I would shove a pipe through his body, penetrating his heart, if it did not mean damning the rest of my family for as long as they should live.
“What a drab home,” was the first thing out of his mouth. I bit my tongue. He continued, “Where’s James?”
“It’s three o’clock on a Friday, he should be on his way home from school.”
“I still can’t believe you and your mother let him go to a public school.”
As if I cared. “It was his choice. May I ask you to get to the reason for your visit?”
“I see your attitude has yet to improve,” he let out a heavy breath of air, a disappointed sigh, as if he expected better of me when I knew he did not. His expectations of me had dropped considerably after I had introduced Evangeline to him. Maybe it was because she was a farmer’s daughter. It was a theory, but the only one that made sense. I knew he had plans for me to wed the same woman Charles had intended on marrying, to ensure that our pockets ran deeper, heavier with wealth. But I could not do that to my dead brother. Perhaps it would have been different if Evangeline was some aristocrat’s daughter.
“Have you found that woman yet?” my father asked.
“No,” I lied, meeting his gaze head on. If he knew about Evelyn, he would surely kill her again.
“And yet you continue to waste your blessed eternal life searching for her,” he clicked his tongue.
“What is eternity without a passion,” I retorted.
“Fool’s words,” he waved a hand dismissively. “How’s Harry? I heard he lives in this area.”
“He’s well.”
“Good. Perhaps I will pay him a visit while I’m here as well,” my father said, stroking his chin. “You’re dismissed. Send Mr. Smith in. I wish to have a word with him before James arrives home.”
Dismissing me in my own home was just like my father. But I did not dare fight it. The more complacent I was, the more likely he was to get bored and move on sooner. In the meantime, I would not be able to contact Evelyn without placing her in harm’s way.
Our reunion would have to wait.
Chapter 20: Blake
Driving twelve hours north was not the way I had imagined starting my weekend. Not when the foxes were doing whatever the hell they were doing.
I had told Carlos that the foxes had openly attacked Evelyn at school. It was my suggestion that we take action now before any harm comes to my mate. It was his suggestion that I go and meet with a werewolf near the old Alpha house. Kaya was going to meet me around there and hitch a ride back to the current Alpha house.
So why didn’t Kaya meet with the mutt? Well, maybe if she started pulling her own weight within the Pack, menial tasks like this would be given to her. Not that I was bitter, or anything.
“You said it yourself,” Jason had told me hours earlier. “The vampire told you that they’re always at each other’s throats. This is probably no different. I bet if you could go five minutes without her running through your mind, you’d calm down and see this clearly.”
Would it be better if I could go five minutes without thinking about her? I took a deep breath, glancing at my watch. Nine forty-one. I tightened my grip on the steering wheel, looking at the road that stretched out before me. Yeah. I could go five minutes without thinking about her.
Instead, I’d think about the Pack… yeah, the Pack. Our Pack consisted of fifteen members. Nineteen, if you still included the ones who had broken off and moved to Alberta. About once every three or four months, we would all get together, and just talk about how everyone was doing, how things were going, what mutts have been discovered over the period spent apart. The usual.
Kaya was the only one out of us Pack members over the age of eighteen that didn’t do Pack missions. She didn’t do anything seriously, really, and this was what made Carlos reluctant to send her on a job. But, Kaya could be serious –and was a lot more serious that any of the Pack gave her credit for, but she milked her youth eagerly. I couldn’t blame her, I guess. We all matured at fast rates. I understood that better than anyone.
Our main missions and jobs consisted of locating mutts, mongrels and rogues. Mutts, mongrels and rogues referred to werewolves that didn’t belong to a Pack. Each term meant something different, a ranking of sorts. A mutt was usually a werewolf that hardly showed up on our radar, just moved from town to town, just trying to survive by any means possible. Mongrels acted up here and there, but posed no real threat; it usually only took a warning to get them to back off. Rogues on the other hand, killed constantly, no matter how many times we ‘warned’ them. They were kind of like repeat offenders of the worst kind. Interactions with them usually resulted in death; either a Pack member’s or the rogues.
Rogue jobs weren’t frequent; one, maybe two, during the course of a year. The last job I had gone on had involved a rogue, though those jobs were usually thrown to Noah, Michael and a few of the other older wolves in the Pack. But because I had grown up with the ability to shift, I was different. I was strong, not just physically but mentally, even in wolf form. I say that, but the rogue job I’d been on was my first. It was also the reason why I’d gotten into the fight with Carlos.
I had started going on jobs with Noah and Carlos at the age of fourteen. Mostly mutt cases, but it was a break from Keegan and Carlos’s father. After the mission was done, we’d usually stay around a little longer and just enjoy some peace and quiet. When I was fifteen, Carlos’s father, as well as a few of the elder members of the Pack, suddenly and inexplicably disappeared. My father became the Alpha, much to Keegan’s dismay. By the time I was sixteen, Carlos had the odd-job business up and going, which became our main source of income. Lending out our strength had been a good move financially, though I hated the interactions. I had been doing those jobs by myself almost from the beginning.
Keegan had his first change shortly after our seventeenth birthday. Wanting to be independent, he begged to go on a mission. It was months before Carlos gave in, but I guess he just grew sick of listening to Keegan complaining. So, he went on his first mission with his best friend, Joey, who was the same age as Dante and had some experience with odd-job missions. But things went horribly wrong, and Joey died. Noah, who had been sent to watch over and evaluate Keegan, revealed that it was my brother who had killed him. He was kicked out of the Pack, instantly marked as rogue, and I hadn’t seen him since.
All I could say was good riddance. I didn’t want him around now, especially with Evelyn already being in potential danger with the foxes.
I looked at my watch.
Nine forty-five.
Damn it. I guess I really couldn’t keep my mind off of her for more than five minutes. In any case, I didn’t see why it was a bad thing.
And how could I not think of her? How could I not imagine her laughs? They were becoming more and more familiar to me. I could pick out her laugh in a crowded hallway, though I preferred hearing them when she was laughing at something I’d said.
Thinking of her calmed me down. Where the lack of a range of emotions once dwelled, I was beginning to feel something. I hadn’t realized that anger had become my normal state of mind. Before her, I didn’t care what happened to me. That’s why Carlos got angry. He couldn’t understand how I could be so reckless –the rogue mission wasn’t supposed to be mine all alone. Noah was busy, so I’d been
matched up with Paul. I was supposed to meet Paul in Toronto, give him the details that Carlos and Dante had put together, and the two of us were supposed to devise a plan to deal with this guy. But I’d read the file on my way there, and I knew I could handle it on my own.
And I did. I did it without a single hitch. When Paul got tired of waiting for me and called me, all I’d needed help with was the cleaning up. He told Carlos what happened. When I got home, he asked me if I felt anything when I’d killed him. What thoughts had been running through my head?
He deserves it.
This, apparently, was not normal for a first rogue mission. I could see it in the look on his face. The way it hardened as his mind worked behind the scenes. He wouldn’t show his frustration with me. He would try to talk me into seeing things the way I was ‘supposed to.’ But what was I supposed to feel? Remorse? Wonder if, just maybe, there was a possibility that he would change his ways?
I wasn’t so naïve.
Part of me wished I was, even just for Carlos’s sake. Would it be easier for him if I was more like Jason, Dante or even Kaya? I wished I could be more like Carlos himself. Level-headed when he needed to be, all the while fearlessly exposing his lively and spirited side.
I was afraid I was more like my brother than I cared to admit.
* * *
A black car drove up beside my truck while I leaned against the tailgate. The meeting place was an old bridge on a road that no one really travelled –I’d been there for half an hour, and the black vehicle was the only one I’d seen. Thomas and Jonah, father and son respectively, were snitches –hence the remote setting. If anyone knew they passed information on to the Pack, they’d be hunted down. Likewise, if they officially joined the Pack, we’d lose our outside source.
Thomas was forty-seven. He had a scar on his face from his temple to the back of his bald head, from an encounter with a rogue about seven years ago –it was part of the reason he became a snitch. Carlos and Noah had saved him and they’d struck up a deal. Thomas didn’t look weak; he was well built with a strong, hard jawline that said he didn’t take anyone’s shit. The scar helped pull that look off. But there was always someone bigger and stronger out there.