Rose Petal Graves (The Lost Clan Book 1)

by Olivia Wildenstein

  “I am hoping,” Gwenelda said.

  “You’re hoping?” I exclaimed.

  I ran after the car, waving my hands over my head to stop him, but the taillights grew fainter and then vanished. “If anything happens to him, I’ll—”

  “You will kill me? I would like that, but it is impossible.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Come inside and I will tell you, child.”

  “Child?”

  “You are two hundred years younger than I. That makes you a child.” When I still didn’t budge, she said, “It is not in my interest to kill you, Catori.” She fixed me with her dark eyes. “Your name is not Gottwa. Do you know?”

  “Dad chose it. He liked the sound of it and he liked its meaning. If you have a problem with it, take it up with him.”

  Gwenelda smiled. “You are a lively one.”

  “Mom used to say that, but you wouldn’t know. You killed her.”

  The rustling of pine needles became deafening as Gwenelda stared at me. “You do not know what you are talking about, little girl.”

  “Then tell me.”

  “Not out here.” She glanced into the night. “It is not safe in these woods. I placed a spell on the cabin. No faerie can penetrate it. Please, enter inside.”

  “I’m not scared of faeries.”

  “That is because you do not know what they are capable of.”

  “I’m sure they’re not perfect, but they didn’t kill my mother.” My voice seemed to resonate against the bark of the pines, or perhaps it was my thrumming pulse that made it sound louder.

  “Just because your heart beats for one does not mean their species is good.”

  “My heart beats for no one,” I said.

  She smirked. “You struck me as an intelligent girl the first time we met, but perhaps I was wrong.”

  I glowered at her. “If I come inside, you’ll tell me everything?”

  She nodded. “Everything.”

  Bracing myself, I went in, and she shut the door. There was no furniture inside, so I stood in the middle of the room with my arms crossed tightly in front of my chest. “Talk.”

  “Would you like to sit?”

  “Where?”

  “On the floor.”

  “Not really. It’s dirty.”

  “Dirt won’t kill you,” she said.

  “Apparently,” I said sarcastically. From the way she furrowed her square forehead, I doubted she got my insinuation.

  “Two hundred years ago, Catori, our tribe was decimated by the fae. They wanted to eradicate us because we represented a threat to them. We were the only ones with the power to kill them.”

  Although I knew all of this already, I didn’t want to interrupt. A cloud passed over the moon, which was the only source of light inside the cabin. Darkness slid over Gwen’s face, and then glided off.

  “Faes are wicked creatures. They kill and pillage and trick people. Their wickedness went unpunished for centuries. But one night, the Great Spirit came to the Gottwa people and asked us to become the protectors of humans. The Great Spirit entrusted us with the power to control them. We became what you call today, a police. When faeries committed a crime, we tracked them and chastised them.”

  “Chastised?” I snorted. “What a pretty word for murder.”

  “We rarely killed them. We reprimanded them by seizing their gassen. Their dust. If they behaved properly, we would return their magic.”

  “You can confiscate magic?”

  “Yes. But we cannot use it. It is stored inside of us. You see these marks on me?” She hiked up the back of her blue sweater. Intricate tattoos ran up her spine. “Each etching holds one fae’s magic.” I counted four tattoos. “One day, the faes came after us. They sliced through our skin, tortured so many of us, to retrieve their magic.” Darkness passed over her face again, but not because of any clouds this time. “When they realized that slaughtering us freed the magic from our bodies and replaced it in theirs, they massacred us. The Great Spirit came to my father in his sleep and told him that we had to slumber in coffins made of rowan wood underneath spelled rose petals. We did not know if we would survive, but here I stand today. My father, Negongwa, was right. The Great Spirit has protected us.”

  Gwenelda sounded so genuine that my stance had loosened, from surprise and fascination. But then I thought about Mom and I drew my arms tight again. “He didn’t protect my mother.”

  “She is with her, I am sure.”

  “Her?”

  “For the Gottwa people, the Great Spirit was gwe. Female.”

  “I know what gwe means. It was in the spell. The one that brought you back, but took my mother.”

  Gwenelda narrowed her eyes. “I did not take your mother’s life, Catori.”

  “Then who did?”

  “When I awakened, she was lying on the floor beside my coffin. I believe a fae learned she had raised a casket from the earth and killed her to make sure she could not do it again.”

  “Then why didn’t they kill you at the same time?”

  “Because I was still surrounded by rowan. Their magic does not penetrate it.”

  “I know that.”

  “Or…”

  “Or what?”

  “Or the spell took her,” she said, in a low voice. “But I do not know that for sure.” Suddenly, she frowned and turned toward one of the dusty windowpanes. “Did you hear something?” she asked.

  “No.”

  Cautiously, she approached the cracked window. Most people wanted to rehabilitate the cabin, but not the mayor. He wanted to build a landscaped park with a playground and a community center that would cost taxpayers a bunch of money and maim the natural beauty of Manistee forest.

  “The Woods were quick to come to Rowan,” she said, dragging her gaze to me. “I heard they even killed a man on their way.”

  “What are you implying?”

  “You are not wearing your necklace.”

  My coat was zipped all the way up to my neck. “How can you tell?”

  “I can feel the presence of opal. It hums to me.”

  Of course it does…because you’re a lunatic.

  “Although I cannot force you to wear it, it will protect you from them.”

  “Maybe two centuries ago, it would have. But now, I can bet you that every faerie knows what I look like. Haven’t you heard of the Internet?” Granted, Ace hadn’t. Or maybe it was a pretense.

  “I am learning about it. But there are so many clans of faes. Thousands. They spread like smallpox when we were gone, onto every continent. And they do not get along, Catori. The Woods might all know about you, but they would not have warned the Fiori or the Rios. Faeries are selfish and only care for themselves.”

  I ran my fingers across my neck. “If they’re all over the world, there must be other hunters.”

  “I have not seen any indication of others. For now, it is only you and I.”

  “I’m not a hunter.”

  “You are, child. The Great Spirit has bestowed the sight upon you, which makes you one of us. It is a glorious gift.”

  “You have to stop calling me child. It’s weird, Gwen. You look thirty.”

  “Twenty-nine. I was twenty-nine when they placed me in the ground.”

  “My point exactly.”

  Her gaze shot over to the cracked window again.

  “You said killing you is impossible. You’re not immortal, so why is that?”

  “Only faes can kill me. They asphyxiate us hunters with their dust. It is the worst form of death. One I hope you will never feel.” Suddenly, she hissed. “They have come.”

  Against the blackness, two figures glowed bright white, Cruz and Ace. I wasn’t sure whether to feel relieved or alarmed by their presence.

  “Let her go, Gwenelda, and no one will get hurt.” Ace’s voice seeped through the fissures in the glass and the holes in the rotten wood.

  Gwenelda snarled. “I do not trust Woods.”

  “And I
do not trust Gottwas,” Ace continued, “but this girl has nothing to do with our feud. If you leave Rowan tonight, we will not warn the others that you have returned. If you don’t—”

  “You will kill me? Like you killed that poor medical examining man and blamed me for it.”

  Ace snorted. “Did those rose petals fry your brain?” He shook his head. “Your people always blamed faeries for everything. I’m not saying we’re perfect, but come on, Gwenelda, you just came back from the dead. You have no clue how the world works nowadays.”

  Ace and Cruz seemed like they’d moved closer to the cabin, yet their legs hadn’t shifted. I stared down at their feet. They weren’t touching the ground.

  “There is hatred everywhere,” Gwenelda said. “Perhaps it was not only your people’s doing, Ace, but I am certain faeries did not try to better the world.”

  Cruz and Ace were right in front of the broken glass. I jerked backward whereas Gwenelda stood her ground.

  “Do not threaten us,” she said.

  “Oh.” Ace smiled, a wicked smile. “We’re not threatening Catori. Just you.”

  “Stop it!” My voice rang out in the small cabin, surprising everyone including myself. “For your information, Ace, Gwenelda’s not holding me hostage. I came here of my own will, just like I’ll leave…of my own will. And, Gwen, don’t bother asking me to wake the others, because I won’t do it. I don’t want to propagate…this.” I gestured between the faeries and the hunter. “I’ll be on my way now.” I backed up slowly, my gaze cemented to Gwenelda’s. There was no animosity, but there was some other emotion drifting over her face. Despair? Disappointment? I almost apologized. What exactly would I be apologizing for? Refusing to dig up old graves and wake vengeful relatives? My heels knocked into the wall. I spun around and unlatched the door. It creaked as it opened. And then I ran out. I was halfway home when Cruz flew right in front of me. I just managed to brake before colliding into him. I lost my footing and toppled into the snow. “Leave me alone.” Shakily, I got back up.

  “I don’t want to leave you alone,” he said.

  I brushed the snow off my jeans. My fingertips were as white as Cruz’s skin, although there was no magic in them, only raw cold. Keeping my eyes on him, I circled around his floating body and started up again, this time slower, because my legs trembled as furiously as my hands. Cruz didn’t stop me this time, but he followed me all the way back to my house. I could feel his blazing presence behind me, a beacon in the harsh obscurity that would never lead me to safety.

  Just before I vanished inside my house, I heard him say, “Guards have been called. They’ll patrol the property. For your safety.”

  “How stupid do you think I am?” I asked, spinning around. He’d landed, probably worried Dad might spot him floating around. “It’s not for my safety; it’s for yours…your people’s safety.”

  I waited for him to dispute this—to prove that faes weren’t completely selfish—but the words I lingered for in my doorway never came.

  CHAPTER 13 – THE GUARDS

  I looked out through my window that night for the faerie guards Cruz had spoken about but didn’t see them. The only thing out there was a swarm of fireflies. They bobbed over the headstones and twirled around the blackened tree trunks. The spectacle was enthralling, so much so that I spent a long time looking at the creatures’ dance, and when I slept that night, I dreamt of them.

  It was nearly noon when I woke up to banging on my door. When I grumbled that I was awake, Dad came in and drew my curtains open.

  “I need to get out of this house,” he said.

  I sat up in bed and stretched. “What are you thinking?”

  “I made a reservation at Bee’s Place.”

  “Oh.” There went hoping for a road trip. “I doubt you needed to make a reservation.” Bee would throw out customers to accommodate us.

  “I’m starving, so get ready quick, okay?” he said, then left my bedroom and closed the door.

  The dangling yellow feathers of my dream catcher fluttered, reminding me of the fireflies’ nocturnal dance. Come to think of it, weren’t they warm weather insects? After I brushed my teeth and pulled on a fresh pair of jeans and a sweater, I went downstairs to the hearse and slid in next to Dad. The air was frigid inside the car.

  “Dad, have you ever seen fireflies in the winter?”

  “No.” He spun the dials of the temperature to the maximum. “Why?”

  “I saw some last night.”

  “I think you need some more sleep, honey.” He shot me a smile. “I’m sorry I woke you, but I wanted to spend time with you before—” His voice cracked, but then he cleared his throat. “Before you leave.”

  I forgot all about the lightning bugs then. “I’ll stay as long as you need me,” I said, placing my hand on top of his.

  “Do you think there would ever come a time when I wouldn’t need you?”

  I squeezed his hand and he squeezed back. “I can take a semester off.”

  He turned his face toward me, his eyes bright, but then the sparkle blunted. “Your mother would be so angry with me if I held you back. You need to return to Boston and live your life.”

  The reasons to leave Rowan weren’t lacking, but what would happen to Gwenelda, to her family, to the people of this town? Would the faeries retreat back to their island and leave us all alone or would they stay until they’d slaughtered their slumbering enemies?

  “I’m taking a semester off,” I said resolutely.

  Silence hung in the car as Dad checked and rechecked the expression on my face. As we passed the ancient sand dune, he smiled at me, and then he smiled at the road and the trees and the squirrels. I’d made him happy.

  The snow had melted over the sand, just like it was thawing out in patches over most of Rowan. It was by no means warm, but the sun was bright and the sky cloudless. People were out today. Most were on their way to lunch. The bakery and coffee shop had long lines of students snaking out of them. Although high school was a year and a half ago, it felt like it had happened in another lifetime. Watching them gossip and sharing laughs made me think of Boston. I hadn’t really made any friends there—acquaintances, sure, but not close friends. No one from BU had attended the funeral, and yet everyone from Rowan High had.

  But that was my own fault. I’d so wanted to prove to my parents that their money wasn’t wasted that I spent every waking minute studying. The person I was closest to was my Goth roommate Cora, and saying we were close was an exaggeration. It just felt that way because her boyfriend, Duke, was always hanging around our dorm room making eyes at her. She’d probably be thrilled to have the room to herself.

  “I’ll need to fly back to get my stuff. And my car,” I told Dad who slowed down in front of the police station, then backed into a parking spot.

  “I’m pretty sure there’s closer parking,” I said.

  “I wanted to ask Sheriff Jones if he’d apprehended the criminal.”

  “Oh. Um. Probably not,” I said, taking off my seat belt and getting out of the car.

  Dad rounded the front of the hearse while tightening his belt. It bunched up the waistband of his jeans. He’d lost a ton of weight in the past three days. “What makes you think that?”

  “I just imagine she’s left town.”

  “Well, if you don’t mind, since we’re here, I’d like to go and check.”

  I nodded and followed him into the precinct. Jimmy was at the front desk, tapping on his phone with such fervor that he had to be playing a game. Or he was sending a very hateful text message. When he looked up, I was expecting surprise or recognition for last night, but instead his face became pink and he stashed his phone in the drawer.

  “I was checking the police radar. See if there was any spotting of that suspect we’re looking for,” he said.

  I frowned. Had he really forgotten about last night?

  “You can do that from a cell phone?” Dad asked.

  He jerked his head up and down. Clearly
, he was lying.

  Dad let out a heavy sigh. “So that means you haven’t caught her yet.”

  “No, sir. But we will. I have no doubt that we will. Sheriff Jones is on a conference call with the other police departments in the region. He wants us to join forces. The more of us, the better, right?”

  “I hope so,” Dad said. “Well, anyway, we’re off to lunch.”

  “Bon apuetiti, Mr. Price.” Not sure what language he was aiming for.

  Once Dad had stepped out of the precinct, I asked, “Were you out last night, Jimmy?”

  “Nope. I stayed in with Momma. We watched The Reverence. Do you follow that show? It’s so freaky.”

  “No, I don’t. And after that? Did you leave the house?”

  His eyebrows hiked up on his forehead, drawing his lids along until his eyes were unnaturally round. He dropped his voice to a whisper, “Why? Did you see me?”

  “I thought—”

  “I have a history of sleepwalking.” He checked the precinct door. “Was I…was I wearing clothes?”

  “Yes.” I wrinkled my nose at the thought of seeing Jimmy in his birthday suit. “Definitely clothed.”

  He breathed the heaviest sigh I’d ever heard. I could nearly see it drop out of his mouth. “I’m always sleepwalking naked. I’ve been taking meds for that. I thought it was getting better. I should phone the doctor.” He fiddled with the drawer handle, dragged it open, and plucked his phone out.

  I debated whether to reassure him that I hadn’t seen him, but he was already on the line with his doctor. As I left, I wondered how Cass had turned out so differently than Jimmy. Where he was attached to his mother’s hip at age twenty-two, she was independent. It probably had to do with their father leaving their mother for another woman ten years back. It had been tougher on him than on her.

  “I’m so happy the sheriff hired Jimmy. That boy needed a real job,” Dad said, once I’d caught up to him. He offered me his arm and I took it.

  “Selling cell phone plans was a real job.”