Anathema

by K. A. Tucker

  I smiled as a butterfly fluttered past us on its way to one of those drifts of wildflowers, its vibrant yellow and orange wings contrasting beautifully with the verdant green backdrop. A family of crickets sang out happily somewhere in the depths of the woods. It was purely serene—hardly a world crawling with bloodthirsty monsters waiting to drink my blood.

  I wondered what did live here. “What sort of wildlife is there?”

  Silence answered. I turned. And froze.

  Caden was gone. My eyes darted about, nervously scanning the woods. “Caden!” I called in a harsh whisper, then held my breath, listening. Nothing. “Caden!” again, this time the desperation in my voice unmistakable.

  A branch cracked. “Oh, thank God—” I began, turning.

  An enormous black panther stood beside a tree a mere five feet away, the head of a snake locked in its jaws. It placed a paw on the snake’s body and then, with a sharp twist of its neck, it ripped the snake’s head off and tossed it aside. The snake’s body—at least six feet long—dropped to the ground, twitching.

  The panther’s attention now moved to me, its ocher eyes regarding me with interest. Or hunger.

  I let out a squeak, scampering several steps back before common sense prevailed and I froze. The cat, its freakishly great height and build matching Max’s, lowered its head and sniffed the ground, seemingly unconcerned by my presence. I knew better than to relax, though. There were razor–sharp teeth under that soft, unperturbed muzzle.

  I watched in horror as the panther shifted its weight from side to side, then quietly edged in. It moved in close enough that its snout grazed my chest, stopping on my pendant. It let out a low snarl, its lip curling to display a lethal set of fangs.

  And I thought I’d die by a vampire bite. I wondered if there was any point in running. Would running make the kill more pleasurable for it? Untestable—my muscles were locked with terror.

  “It’s okay, I’m here.” I felt an arm wrap protectively around my shoulder and Caden pulled my rigid body close to him.

  I let out a small gasp of relief. “What do we do?” I whispered, trying not to move my lips, my focus glued on the beast giving me a sniff–down.

  “Just stay still.”

  “Or what?”

  “This is Scout.”

  “It has a name?” My eyes widened.

  Caden chuckled. “Yeah. Like it?”

  “Depends on if it’s going to maul me.”

  “No. He’s my pet.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Bishop and I have a small army of animals to guard the mountains and warn us of any visitors. Better protection.”

  The panther named Scout lifted his head to peer into my eyes, his face only inches away. I shrank back against Caden.

  “Don’t move. He’s just curious. He won’t react if you don’t surprise him. He knows you’re scared.”

  I averted my eyes to the left, focusing on a branch as the giant cat inspected me, unable to bring myself to look him in the eye for fear of screaming. He finally dropped his head to sniff my shoes. Caden kept his arm around my shoulder, holding me tightly to him.

  “How is he yours?” I whispered

  “I bit him. He belongs to me. I’m his master.”

  I frowned. “So, what does that make him? A werecat?”

  “We call them werebeasts. They’re a bit different from human vampires. They crave flesh more than blood. They’re immortal and they heal quickly, like us. But they become freakishly big, usually doubling in size.”

  “Like Max,” I said, thinking of my giant canine friend. That’s what he was. A werebeast.

  I felt Caden nod. “They’re a protector, bound to the person who transformed them.”

  “That means Max has a master.” It had to be Mortimer. He had introduced him as his guard dog.

  “Yeah, probably. The cool thing is, I can communicate with Scout from anywhere in the valley.”

  “How?”

  “Telepathically. We can talk back and forth to each other in our heads. He reports in to me.”

  “Reports in to you …” I gasped. “Son of a—”

  At my unexpected outburst, Scout took three lightning–quick steps back, snarling menacingly.

  “Easy, boy,” Caden cooed, sliding in to stand between the panther and me. When the cat finally quieted, he turned to look at me. “What is it?”

  “What if Max is Mortimer’s spy? He’s always tailing me, sniffing me and stuff.” He’s just following orders. He doesn’t really care about me after all.

  “Makes sense,” Caden murmured in agreement. “I warned you, didn’t I?”

  “But, why?” I twisted my face up in confusion, my hands going to my forehead. “To protect me from Sofie? Max doesn’t seem too concerned when she’s around. Viggo, though … he gets that dog riled up …” They’re hiding something. But what? “I’m such an idiot,” I mumbled.

  “No; you couldn’t have known.”

  “I should have. You’re right. I am a naïve fool.”

  Caden sighed. “They probably … found your weakness—whatever it is—and exploited it, sucking you into their world, making you trust them. That’s what our kind is good at—manipulation.”

  My weakness? What could Sofie have … My loneliness. That was it. That was my weakness. She used human companionship to lure me in, to make me want to be around her. And I—a lonely, helpless puppy looking for friendship—lapped it up. But how had she figured that out so quickly? Was she that perceptive, or was I that obvious—that pathetic?

  I glanced around. Scout had disappeared.

  “He’s gone. You can relax,” Caden said, smiling wryly.

  Off to guard the forest for me. Too bad I couldn’t bring him back with me. Then the dogs would have a cat to chase.

  “Please don’t disappear like that again,” I begged Caden.

  “I’m sorry.” His gaze showed sincerity. “He wasn’t supposed to get that close—but then that snake made a move on you … I was just getting these.” He held out a bunch of daisies. “They grow up high, in the meadows.”

  My jaw dropped. No one had ever given me flowers before, let alone scaled a mountain to pick them freestyle. “These … they’re beautiful.” I stammered, taking the daisies. How long has it been since I held a daisy? Forever, it seemed. I brought them to my nose to inhale the natural bouquet.

  That scent … so familiar. It reminded me of something, but what … My childhood? Summer?

  The park. Red and white striped monkey bars.

  I gasped.

  14. Daisies and Deceit

  Before I knew what was happening, Caden was easing me to the ground, my legs having given out on me. “What’s wrong?”

  My mouth opened but it took a few tries to form any words and when I did, they came out in rapid spurts and stammers. “I couldn’t … I couldn’t have been more than four. The playground near our old apartment. Red and white–striped monkey bars. The old kind.”

  “What playground?”

  “The one in Sofie’s painting!”

  Caden crouched down in front of me, cupping my chin gently with his hands. “Evangeline, slow down. You’re rambling. Start from the beginning.”

  I took a deep breath, suddenly overwhelmed with nausea. I swallowed a few times before I could speak. “Sofie painted a picture and hung it in my room at Viggo and Mortimer’s. It’s a picture of a little girl picking daisies in a playground.” I paused. “I knew there was something familiar about it …” I locked eyes with him. “It was me! Sofie’s been watching me since I was four years old!”

  Caden sighed heavily, pivoting to sit on the ground beside me. “I wonder why?”

  I shrugged. My whole body felt numb from the shock. “It means she’s lying. She told me she didn’t mean for this to happen to me, but she did. She’s been planning it for fourteen years!”

  He thought for a moment. “Or she’s leaving important details out.”

  “Not telling me more
than I need to know,” I murmured. It was exactly what she’d told me to do. “I wonder if Viggo knows. If he does, he hasn’t let on. Maybe he didn’t want to freak me out.”

  “Maybe,” Caden said softly, though his tone suggested doubt. “Why would she paint that picture, though? It’s as if she wanted to you find out.”

  “Some sort of sick joke?”

  He shrugged. “Or some other reason. I don’t know what’s going on, but I guarantee you there’s a lot more to it than any of them are letting on. It’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”

  I nodded, committing that to memory. I’d have to question everything from now on.

  Caden leaned in, his shoulder nudging mine affectionately. “You going to be okay? You look a little pale.”

  Nausea surged through my body again. “I feel … like I just found out I’ve been standing naked in a room full of people with magnifying glasses for years.” I shuddered. “I can’t trust anyone.”

  “No. No one,” he said with cold certainty.

  “Even the dog is against me,” I mumbled, picking tiny leaves off a fern branch and tossing them aside.

  “Assume you’re only ever getting half the truth—if any.”

  I hesitated, terrified of the answer. “Even from Amelie and Fiona and Bishop … and you?”

  “Yes,” he said quickly. “I mean,” he looked off in the distance, frowning, “we want you to trust us, but we don’t expect you to do so blindly. We hope we’ll earn it one day.”

  I already trust you, I whispered to him in my thoughts.

  He turned and locked eyes with me for a moment, his expression unreadable. He opened his mouth as if to speak, then quickly clamped it shut. Grabbing my hand, he pull me up. “Come on. Let’s keep walking, if you’re up to it.”

  “As long as there are no more lurking animals. I’m feeling pretty fragile right now.” Fragile, but unbroken, somehow—though by all counts I should have fallen apart. Any normal person would have by now, wouldn’t they?

  Caden reached down to pick up the daisies I’d scattered when I realized the extent of Sofie’s treachery. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have.”

  “No!” I exclaimed, grabbing the flowers out of his hand and inhaling their scent again, welcoming the fond memories that flooded back with it. My mother’s laughter as she chased me through the park … “Thanks for these.” I smiled timidly. “I love daisies.”

  Caden picked up a pebble and casually threw it into the trees, no doubt hitting some impossible target I couldn’t see. “I know.” He laughed at my bewilderment.

  “We’d better get to the others before they empty the stream.” He began walking briskly down the path, calling over his shoulder, “Hurry up, pokey!”

  I trailed quietly, alternating my attention between the perfect, agile body ahead and the daisies in my hand before saying, “So Fiona and Amelie obviously told you a few things about me.”

  “Obviously.”

  “What else did they tell you?” I asked, wracking my brain to remember the conversation.

  He responded by casually tossing out his own question. “So you’ve never even had one boyfriend?”

  Ugh. They told him that? I felt my face flush at the thought of them discussing my pathetic social life. So he must have figured out there’s something wrong with me.

  “I never would have guessed it, based on the other night …” He glanced back, and I saw the corner of his mouth curving in a smirk.

  The other night? What’s he— My eyes bulged as I realized he was talking about the night of the attack. I opened my mouth to respond several times, always faltering, lost for words. Even the pendant’s powerful magic couldn’t have masked my blazing cheeks. Mercifully, Caden kept his eyes ahead.

  We wandered deep within the valley forest, where the trees blocked out most of the sunlight. In the few places where the thick canopy granted the sun access, shafts of light beamed down over the area like spotlights, the contrast between the deep shadows and the sunrays creating a mystical setting.

  An enormous, knotty tree root jutted at least six feet from the ground, blocking our path. I hooked my foot into a nook and started climbing, but Caden’s hands grabbed my waist and yanked me back down. “Where are you going?” He laughed, and in the next instant, we were sailing over to the other side.

  “I thought you couldn’t fly,” I said sarcastically, releasing the mouthful of air I had sucked in.

  “That was a jump.” He chuckled and continued walking.

  We found the others sitting on a pile of rocks beside a narrow, murky river that wove through the trees. Fluorescent green algae rested like a camouflage on its surface, bright against the inky water and the dark forest.

  “So we’re going to … fish?” I asked, eyeing the metal rod Bishop held. Three more lay beside him, nestled among some ferns. This is what vampires do to kill time?

  Caden smirked. “You sound surprised.”

  “I thought your diet consisted of … liquid.”

  “They’re for Bishop’s pet. Are you any good?”

  “I don’t know; I’ve never tried. But I don’t see myself as much of the ‘angler and hunter’ type,” I answered.

  Caden laughed, picking up a rod. “You could be a natural cave woman.”

  “Maybe.” I doubt it. Seeing anything with more than two legs scurry past made my skin crawl so I didn’t expect a flapping, slimy fish impaled on a hook would bring about a different reaction. I crouched by the riverbank and laid my flowers beside it with their stems dipped in the murky water.

  “Whoa! Not too close,” Caden exclaimed, leaning over to pull me back. “There are things in this water you don’t want to … disturb.”

  A shiver ran down my back as I studied at the calm river. “Like snakes?”

  Bishop answered. “Snakes, crocodiles, piranhas—I’m surprised you didn’t meet one of them the night you went in for Amelie.”

  “But you didn’t,” Caden reminded me, seeing my eyes widen. He threw a look of exasperation Bishop’s way.

  “Here you go, Eve,” Bishop said, smirking as he handed me a rod.

  My mother used to call me that.

  “I found these babies in a vault a few hundred years ago and I’ve been hoarding them ever since. I knew I’d have a reason to keep them!”

  I stood awkwardly holding the rod. “Okay … what do I do now?” I inspected the metal contraption at the end of the long pole. A reel, Caden informed me.

  “Well, first, you put one of these on.” Bishop picked something up off the ground beside him and grabbed my free hand. He placed a six–inch leech into my palm. It began wiggling and I shrieked, shaking the slimy thing off my hand. “Poor little fella.” Bishop stooped down to pick the disgusting thing up. Grabbing the end of my line, he jabbed the barbed hook through its body several times. It writhed furiously, trying to escape.

  I screwed up my face in disgust.

  Bishop snickered. “You’re such a girl.”

  Fiona glanced over. “Bishop, seriously, you are so juvenile sometimes.” She rolled her eyes at me. “Sorry.”

  Bishop squatted beside Caden, who already had a line in the water. Caden chuckled. “So those leeches are terrifying.”

  “Not terrifying, repulsive. Two entirely different things,” I clarified, bending down to wipe the leech gunk off my hand on some leaves. I straightened and regarded my rod. “Okay, I’m in need of a lesson.”

  Caden seemed happy to oblige, using his own rod to demonstrate how to cast and reel in.

  “Looks simple enough,” I said and got ready to cast. My bandaged hand made things difficult.

  Caden held up his hands. “Wait.”

  I froze, assuming his vampire senses noticed something in the water.

  “Wait … hold on … okay, now! And put your whole body into it,” he commanded.

  I complied with his instructions, swinging the rod back over my right shoulder before casting forward with all my strength. But my hook lodged in so
mething behind me, at the same time that a howl of protest made me whirl.

  Bishop stood wincing, the sharp metal barb through his left earlobe. I gasped, tears welling. “I’m so sorry!”

  Beside me, Caden and Fiona were doubled over in laughter. Caden straightened and strolled over to inspect the hook. “Nice catch!” he called back to me, winking.

  I rushed forward with the intention of begging forgiveness but stopped short, cringing, as Bishop yanked the hook out of his ear, tearing a sizeable chunk of flesh out with it. I expected blood to start gushing but the wound immediately closed up, leaving his ear looking unscathed.

  “Pay more attention next time!” Caden lectured Bishop, giving him a whack on his back.

  “Fiona was distracting me with—” Bishop stopped, realizing he was the dupe in a joint effort by Caden and her. “You’ll pay for that later, woman,” he threatened Fiona, though he was grinning when he said it. “My new shirt’s ruined now!” He rubbed the sleeve where a few drops of blood had landed.

  I stood there, wide–eyed with both amazement and horror.

  “Don’t worry, Bishop’s fine,” Caden said, strolling over to gently squeeze my shoulder. “It’s next to impossible to catch one of us unaware like that. Impressive.”

  “What was Fiona distracting him with?” I asked, frowning. But then I saw the devilish smile she gave him and his answering grin, and I had a good idea what it was. I turned away, flushing.

  Caden cast his hook into the water and seated himself on a boulder. I followed suit, glancing around to check for snakes. “So how long have they been together?”