by Unknown
It was one thing to play the Sophia and walk amongst a crowd of strangers. It was a completely different thing to face my family.
The crowd parted to reveal Rodrian, his arm around Shiloh. Tears glistened on her cheeks, and I ran the last few steps to them, wrapping my arms around her and bathing her in the glow of the Sophia. Her tumultuous power steadied, but I couldn't take more than the edge off her grief. It had all the strength of her sheer unrefined power behind it. And Rodrian—
When I released Shiloh and looked up at him, he smiled a sad smile and held open his arms. As I leaned into his embrace, he opened up his heart to me and let me inside. It was the closest we'd actually been since Aurelia showed up. Such a myriad of feelings—joy that we had been family, even if only a short time; sadness that this could be the end. And every shade of every feeling in between.
But no anger. If anything, there was hope.
I could not bear to be the one to kill that tiny spark. I exhaled deeply and, with the next breath, I siphoned away every negative vibe I could, until I'd reached the center of his essence. That was locked away, still a secret, shadowed and dark. I needed time to break down that final wall, just a little more time—
There was no more time. The desperate realization stole my breath—
He pulled back and sought my eyes, a tiny shake of the head, a wordless apology. Do not remember me like this, his power said. Remember what we had…
Rodrian reached for my face, drawing me to close to his own. "Remember me," he whispered, and kissed me with the touch of a feather, the press of his affectionate power eclipsing the press of his lips.
Shiloh took my hand in hers, giving me a squeeze, and tugged me away from him. Once more the crowd opened and flowed around us. Though we'd only gone a few steps, I turned back to look at him, only to find he was gone. I reached out my essence, looking for his, but met only strangeness.
Shiloh lowered her gaze and kept walking. A new presence opened up in front of me, an empty space.
A void.
The crowd parted to reveal Janssen's white Mercedes, Dierk behind the wheel. Shiloh leaned to kiss me on the cheek. Her nose pink, her eyes bleary, she backed away, one step, another, our arms stretched between us. I turned for a last look at the Demivampires, took in their faces, the essence of their power. Just one last look.
Shiloh released my hand. "Live long, Sophie. I love you."
I had to wrench my head away. If I didn't get in the car now, I never would, and I didn't have a choice. I reached down to the handle of the car door, pulling it open. A gust of wind flared and I looked up.
They were gone, just gone. Every last Demivamp had vamoosed. I stood alone in the driveway next to Dierk's car. No evidence that anyone had ever been there, not a gum wrapper, not a single bent blade of grass.
I searched the front of the house, the window where Rodrian stood in the morning to wave goodbye. An empty window. The only movement was the blur of a curtain falling closed.
My farewell. I nodded, more to myself. This had been a farewell worth saying. If I never saw my DV again, at least I felt like I'd given them something, even if it hadn't come close to what they deserved.
I slipped into the front seat, tucking my bag down next to my legs. A strange exhaustion seeped into my limbs, almost the opposite of an adrenaline rush. Dierk handed me a travel cup full of tea but didn't utter a word about what we'd both just witnessed.
I was grateful for the tea and his silence—I had gotten a final glimpse of what his Leni was taking me from, and right now I felt like I'd been stolen all over again. As hard as I tried, I couldn't keep the bitter thorn from sticking into my tender heart.
Dierk let me pick the CD to play on the way out to Lancaster. I spited him by not choosing one of his. Instead, I chose a late eighties Rush album because it made me remember the kid I used to be before I went to college and got engaged and got unengaged and left my job and lost a bunch of people I can't believe I'd managed to live without. If one called this living.
I almost found myself singing along a few times but at the last moment I'd see him out of the corner of my eye and the song would die in my throat.
We drove for about an hour and a half, before the train of cars turned off the Turnpike. Main roads turned into local roads as he headed into the country, eventually taking a road with no lines painted on it, and then a private drive that disappeared ahead into thick pines. Gravel and tree root made the ride too bumpy for the CD to play without skipping. I switched it off. Wouldn't want it scratched.
Heavy ruts, carved into the road by rain and wear, made Dierk slow down for fear of leaving part of the transmission lying in a ditch. The trees stood thicker still, stretching high overhead to block out the sunlight.
I didn't need to see the sky to know it was sunfall. Closing my eyes, I rapped my knuckles against the window, needing a different sensory stimulation than the tingles that nipped along my barriers, reminding me that somewhere, a DV was losing his battle against evolution. Maybe, that DV was one of mine.
The thought was too much. I whimpered in my throat. Dierk reached over and anchored me with his hand over mine. "It's okay."
I shook my head. He mistook my Sophia Fail to mean something entirely different.
Reaching up to stroke my hair, he made comforting sounds. "But it will be. It always will be."
We finally broke free of the trees to find ourselves overlooking a valley. Broad fields sloped down toward thicker woods. The cars pulled one by one onto a dirt spot, kind of a country parking lot. People emerged from their cars whooping and laughing and, if I didn't know better, I'd swear we were here for a bush party.
Dierk turned off the ignition but didn't remove the keys. We sat in silence, watching the others drift past. Someone banged against the car and I jerked my head, catching a glimpse of two guys hefting a keg.
He chuckled. "Despite the significance of tonight, the others are still here to enjoy themselves. You should, too."
"Eh." I twisted my hair around my fingers. "I'm too old for drinking beer in the woods."
"But just the right age for a party in the moonlight." He patted my leg. "Come. Stohl is getting anxious."
We joined the line of people travelling down a path through the patches of last year's grass. The sun had abandoned the valley, painting the ground in blues and greys. Farther ahead, the first ones were already disappearing into the woods. By the time we reached the tree line, I heard their laughter echo through the new foliage, along with intermittent crackles.
I sniffed the air. "A fire?"
"April nights are chilly in the mountains."
I hadn't noticed. Hooray for adrenaline.
It wasn't long before I saw the fire, a healthy-looking blaze with a large clearing around it. More than one keg had ended up with us and a decidedly festive atmosphere was heating up—laughter, horseplay, good-natured challenges. Looked a lot like the bush parties we had in high school, except none of us back then had pumpkin-colored eyes.
Dierk walked me around the edge of the clearing, making the rounds. He led me by the hand and I looked down once, catching a glimpse of faint scars in the dancing light. We were tethered by the hands Stohl had bitten that night at the club. The Bite Heard 'Round My World.
I squeezed his hand to catch his attention and he winked at me. He knew what he was doing.
He greeted each Were by name and surname and they replied, greeting him by title with a fist-to-heart salute. The first ones to do it startled me with the handsomeness of it—the interplay appealed to that old-soul part of me. But when they turned to me as we prepared to move on to the next group, they addressed me. As if I mattered.
And they wished me luck.
For a moment, I swallowed my tongue. Quickly, I dragged up that part of me that pretended like I knew what to do. I sincerely thanked them, even reaching out to the closest man to touch his arm.
I didn't think about it. I just did. The moment my flesh met his I felt Dierk sti
ffen beside me. The man just grinned and performed the same fist-to-heart salute he had done to Dierk.
The others did the same.
Dierk waved and steered me toward the next group. I leaned into Dierk and whispered. "What just happened?"
"Something just short of a miracle." His half smile looked painted on, as always, but I saw a triumph in his eyes. "You have won them over."
"Because I didn't run screaming?" If that was the case, I should have won them over weeks ago.
"Because you made yourself familiar with them."
We were too close to other people to continue our private discussion. I breathed a little easier and tried acting like they were just people. I think it was the first time I let myself admit they actually were people.
Dierk approached Cacilia's group last. I don't know if it was intentional or coincidence or what but it was still too soon for me. She responded in sullen tones and when the others finished with their pleasantries to me, she just smirked.
"Have fun in the woods tonight, Sophia." Of course, it was said in a tone that implied if she could catch me and eat me, it would be her having all the fun.
I took the high road. "Thank you."
Fuck it. High roads were boring. I tilted my head and gazed up at Dierk, running my free hand up his arm. "I'm having so much fun already."
"Ladies." Dierk bowed his head and excused us, pulling me through the mingling Weres toward a pair of camp chairs. Wow. Thrones. These people really went all out for their royalty.
"Really, dear." He steered me toward one of the chairs and motioned toward the group at the nearest keg. "The first night of the moon isn't the best time to antagonize a Were."
"Relax, Dierk. I've been antagonizing her every day for three weeks. She's used to it."
"I hope. Ah, danke." He took two plastic cups from someone and handed me one. Red Solo cup full of beer. Fancy living, here I come.
I sipped it, relieved that it wasn't cheap light beer. Ooh, did I detect a trace of orange? I'd have to find out what kind it was. I'd finally found my beer niche. Settling back into the chair, I craned my head toward a faint sound. Dierk looked at me over the rim of his cup.
"Is that water?" It sounded like a brook nearby, the gentle rush of water over stone.
He nodded and pointed. "The lake is down there. It's a beautiful thing when the moon is high."
"You sound like you have been here before."
He nodded. "Once. We usually find similar locations wherever we travel with first timers. Water births are easier."
Uck. Sounded—Wereish. And slippery. Once more the image of Toby's violent change flashed in my mind and I shuddered. I didn't want to think about the yuck factor right now.
I kept my phone in my palm all evening, stealing glances at the countdown app and wondering when it would begin. The only thing I felt was the slow building of anxiety. It started as a clothes-too-tight feeling but at an hour until full, it was full-blown turtleneck pressure. And that was despite my copious ingestion of beer. Considering beer usually resulted in a clothes-too-loose feeling, I realized I could have been feeling a lot worse.
"Are you waiting for a call?"
I quick covered the phone, belatedly realizing he'd finally noticed. Well, it wasn't like he was going anywhere. I offered him the phone.
He took it and grinned. "Look at that. From the Witchkinder, I assume?"
Dierk scrutinized the screen a moment before closing his eyes. After a moment, he nodded and handed me the phone. "Ja, that's about right on the nose."
People began drifting off from the fire circle in ones and twos, disappearing into the darkened trees. Cacilia lingered with her group, trying to catch Dierk's eye. He never looked at her. The disappointment and anguish was plain on her face. All she wanted was attention. I feared to look at her, to set her off by intruding on something so personal—
Then I realized I wore that same expression for a year and a half, when I spent every waking moment hoping just for a look from Marek. I loved him, even at his worst, and knew if he could have seen how I felt, the pain our separation caused me, he would have stopped avoiding me.
I glanced at Dierk. A look from Cacilia would not change his heart tonight. He needed to put her pain to rest and to remind her he loved her in that own special way. I tapped his leg and pointed surreptitiously to Cacilia. "You need to speak to her. She's hurting."
He hid behind his near-empty cup, finishing the drought. "Why do you care?"
"I don't," I lied. "But I have to pee and I don't want her jumping me behind a bush. Keep her busy."
He nodded. Raising his hand, he beckoned to Cacilia. She eyed me up as she approached us.
"Excuse me, please," I said to them both, did an awkward little curtsey thing and turned to leave.
Cacilia grasped my sleeve. "Good luck, Sophia. Don't be scared."
"Should I be?" I eyed her and slowly tugged my arm from her grasp.
"No." She spread her hands. "This close to the moon, you should never be afraid. This is the one time when you finally have someone else taking care of you."
Her voice, stripped free of the mean tone she usually used with me, sounded raw and vulnerable. I trusted she meant what she said.
I smiled as much as I could, and worried it looked less than sincere. However, since standing up, I realized how bad I had to go and I was holding onto my bladder by my teeth. I waved before ducking under the branches to find a spot. I went far enough away to give them space but not so far that the firelight couldn't make shadows dance through the leaves around me.
I buried the used Kleenex—it mulches, right?—and headed back to camp. Cacilia and her group were making their noisy way through the bushes. Dierk stood and stared at the fire. We were the last left at the clearing.
"We will go down to the water now. We will be alone. No one will watch us there." He stood up and brushed off his jeans. "You can disrobe to whatever degree you find comfortable. Better to leave your belongings here, instead of scattered through the forest. Your first time, I mean. Some consider the scavenger hunt in the morning to be equal fun."
No way. I was prepared. Kicking off my sneakers, I pulled my hoodie off and slid down my sweatpants, dropping them on my chair before stepping into flip flops. All I had on was an old cami-and-shorts sleep set I'd gotten at a Pink sale a few years ago. If he thought I'd go skipping through the woods stark naked, he was wrong.
Still, it was the barest I'd ever been in front of him since the Bite. He'd stripped down as I did, but he was now barefooted in boxer briefs. The firelight danced across his skin, showing every contour of muscle, the ridges of his abdomen, the nice little bump of shoulder muscle that made any guy look like he had the ability to turn into the Hulk. And I couldn't help but notice those sweet little abdominal cuts that dove from his hips into his briefs.
This was forty? Oh, hell yes. It was damn good to be the king.
I pried my gaze off the rest of his body and managed to find his face. He delighted in the way I looked at him. He was a very happy man.
I peeked a little lower, wondering just how happy he was. He must have known what I was thinking because he closed the distance between us and drew me against him, chuckling.
His skin was warm, as if he'd been standing in the sun. I nestled against his warmth because he'd been right—it was chilly up there in the mountains. Dierk ran one hand up my back under my hair, fingers at my neck, while the other hand explored the curve of my waist, my back.
He grinned, licked his lips, looked around us. His hair had tumbled around his face, giving a hint of shadowed maturity beneath the boyish charm. "I am so very pleased it is you who stands here with me."
My heart pounded, part anxiety, part skin rush. "Will you sing to me?"
"My dear, I will sing to you every day, every night for the rest of my life."
The tenderness in his tone made my heart ache. Right now, at this moment, that's what I wanted. Just—not the Were stuff.
&nbs
p; I didn't know what to say. Thankfully, he leaned down for a kiss, one of those wonderful warm kisses of his, and I abandoned my doubt. If I could be kissed like this, loved like this, held like this, for the rest of my life—didn't joy always come with a price?
Being Were would be the counterbalance. It was an equal weight, a fair price.
He broke the kiss. "Let's go down to the water. We should be ready for the moon. If we stay here…well, you should never place the bedding before the wedding."
I laughed. "Are you trying to tell me you're a virgin?"
He squeezed my hand and led me away from the fire circle. "Tonight, we are. This is the first day of an amazing run. I cherish you, Sophie. You will see. It will be magic."
We followed a thin winding path through the brush, Dierk leading me carefully, holding branches and limbs aside. He led the way through the dark as if the path had been lit. The sounds of water became louder and louder, and it wasn't long before I spied the lake through the thinning trees.
And I saw the moon.
It hung in the sky, big and bright, untarnished. Stars blazed in the heavens, undimmed by the thickness of city lights. Here, the sky was naked and pure, inviting us to admire its beauty.
Moonlight rippled across the water, illuminating everything it touched. I could see clearly in the dark, thanks to the moonshine. Along the shoreline, moonlight skipped across wet stones, the curls of water lapping the rocky shore.
I saw the touch of moonlight everywhere, and the pearlescent glow stole my breath away.
Dierk, still holding my hand, gave me a squeeze. "You see it, don't you?"
"What?" I whispered.
"The lay of the light. We are still nearly ten minutes from full, but you can see it, can't you?"
"The moon is so bright. It's like the middle of the day out here."
"Not just the brightness—the life of the light. The pulse of life, like breathing silver. The sound—" He let go of my hand and walked into the water, slow careful steps, arms spread wide. "Can you hear Her?"