by Ash Krafton
So much came pouring out in a flood. I had no idea he'd been feeling this way. Pitiful, actually, considering who I was supposed to be.
"Rode, easy. Come here." I reached out for his hand but he pulled away as far as the seat would allow.
"No. Don't touch me."
"What did I do?"
"It's not you, it's the Sophia. Don't make this easier. I have to do it on my own."
"Why?"
He clenched the steering wheel, his knuckles paling under the effort. "Marek did."
"Marek didn't have a Sophia to help him."
"Exactly. He managed just fine."
"Did he now? I'll say. He managed himself right to the brink of evolution. That's something to admire."
"Don't talk about him like that." His anger turned defensive.
"I'll talk about him any way I choose. I believe I earned the right. You're messed up, Rode. Your emotions are warring and you're not at balance. I can't stand by and watch you beat yourself to pieces." I reached out and grabbed his arm; at first he jerked away, recoiling as if he'd push back. The muscles bunched tightly under my hand but he remained still and didn't shake me off. Gently I woke the Sophia and allowed his anguish to drain.
"I can't tell you how to fix Shy. I can't tell you how to become your brother. But I am the Sophia, Rode, and I can ease your journey. Would you deny me the only thing I can offer?"
"It's not the only thing you can offer." His power reared and settled, taking my notice, making me aware of the predator within. It was a subtle shift; Rodrian's power always had an aggressive undertow to it but it was the rough desire to acquire, to accumulate. Not greed—just the want for more. It suited the business man.
Now it was as if his power lost the Armani shell. Aggression in a less refined form isn't classy. It's just aggression.
And a predator is still a predator.
"It's the only thing that I'm offering right now," I said firmly. I was too tired for gentle redirection, and I thickened my shield. Controlling it was still a skill I had yet to perfect, so I more or less threw everything I had into it. "It's up to you to do the right thing."
"Why me?"
"Because I can't stop you from doing anything."
"You make it sound like you're at my mercy."
"I am."
He opened his mouth to protest, but seemed to have second thoughts. "I suppose you are. So why do you stay?"
"You're worth the risk. All of you are."
He took his left hand off the wheel long enough to slide my hand down to his other hand and held my in his solid grip. "I'd never betray your trust in me. Do you believe me?"
"I believe you're sincere when you say it but I also know the rules now."
"Rules such as..."
"Your free will isn't the same as mine, Rode. Just as you have the ability to compel humans to go against their will, evolution holds the same sway over you. It's nature. You'd never betray me on purpose but, one day, evolution might push you to do something you normally wouldn't."
"You really believe that, don't you?"
I nodded. "How else would anything make sense? Marek wouldn't have done what he did if it hadn't been for a force beyond his control."
Guilt and sorrow streaked through Rodrian's power. I felt him ebb away as he tightened his control, pushed his barriers up, and locked me out. "I guess."
"At any rate, Eirene has my work cut out for me. There are plenty of rules she said I'll have to learn. Apparently I'm lucky I haven't bubbed everything up to hell with my ineptitude. Thank God she's here."
"Why?"
"Because she knows how to be an actual Sophia. Don't you see? She can help Marek. She can help all of you. Me?" I snorted. "I'm a lousy Sophia. Maybe now I have a chance to actually do some real good."
"Lousy? Compared to what?"
He had a point. "I'm not sure exactly but I'm pretty confident that I'm not operating on a goddess level."
"You're not a goddess, that's why. You're an oracle. Oracles interpret things. Make cloudy things clearer. Not even close to being a goddess."
"Eirene seems to think otherwise."
"Maybe because she's a snotty bitch."
My mouth dropped open in shock and I stared at him. Never mind that I secretly agreed with him. "She's a Sophia, Rode. I think she deserves a little more credit than snotty bitch."
"When she acts like it, I'll take it back."
"But she's a real Sophia. She's read the Canons. She knows how to do her job."
He sniffed, a disdainful sound. "Does she now?"
"Sure." I shrugged. "I watched her."
"Too bad she wasn't willing to prove it to me."
"Is that why you forbade me to tap you before? You put on a show? To test her?"
"Yeah." He ignored my glare. "I couldn't help it. I had to see if she was any good."
What a slut. Did Rodrian need to test-drive every woman he met? I huffed out a breath, feeling much crankier. "Well?"
"Well, what?"
"Was she any good?"
"No."
"No?" My mouth hung open. Good thing there were no flies around.
"No. I practically had to sit on you to keep you from reacting, even after I compelled you. You almost broke free of it. She never batted an eye."
"I know. She said she ignored you."
"Ignored it?" His voice was incredulous.
"On purpose," I insisted. "She said she didn't want to interfere with my DV." I didn't add that she'd implied that one taste of her and my puppy would run away from home. Frigging Pied Piper bitch.
Rodrian shook his head and cast me a dubious glance. "Yeah, well, anyone who could ignore feelings like that, on purpose or not, isn't my idea of a Sophia. I wouldn't want her. As far as I'm concerned, you're fine the way you are. You don't need to take pointers from someone like her."
"I'm afraid I don't have a choice. I'm going to see her again. I have to," I added when he groaned. "I'm missing something, Rode. If she's the only Sophia I'll ever meet, then I have to keep seeing her. I promise I won't learn her bad manners."
"It's not bad manners I worry about, Soph. It's just bad, period."
"I'll be okay. Everything will be okay."
"Hope that's a premonition," he said as he pulled up the driveway. "Because, so far, all the omens have been pretty bleak."
A few days later, Toby met me up in the parking garage after work. All he had was a duffle bag, which he stuck in the trunk. While we drove out to the Stocks, I remembered how inadequate I'd felt when I moved in, lamenting that all I owned fit in a U-Haul.
All Toby owned fit in the gym bag in my trunk.
He cracked the window, despite the cold sting of winter. He just wanted to smell the wind, he said.
Sometimes, I forgot the kid was a werewolf. I only saw the ruffled hair, the charming grin, the subtle vulnerability in the way he held himself. Then he'd go ahead and do something like press his nose to the open window.
He chatted all the way out but fell silent when I pulled up the driveway. I remembered the first time I'd come here; I'd been stunned, too. It was a gorgeous driveway flanked by green trees and flowering bushes in the summer. In November, all that remained were bare branches with a few stubborn dead leaves attached. Not exactly a warm welcome.
He shouldered his bag and followed me up the porch steps without speaking a word, gazing around at the lights and the columns and the high roof.
"So this is where you live?" Toby was incapable of disguising his amazement.
"Yeah, quaint, huh?" It slipped out. Marek's choice of words. Funny how I adopted them. I unlocked the door and showed him inside.
His eyes grew round when he took in the foyer. I guess the chandelier was a bit daunting.
"Depends. Does quaint mean hoo-wee, shi—"
"I was joking, Toby." I shrugged and looked at him as he paused in the doorway, holding his duffle bag on his shoulder. "You want to come in all the way? You're letting the bought air out."
"Well," I said, "you get the abbreviated tour. Upstairs are the bedrooms, no need for you to worry about those. Office there, den there." I pointed to each door. "Kitchen down that way, enter at your own peril. I have to tell Bethany you'll be staying here. Basement through that side door there. The basement is neat, so feel free to explore. I guess the guest room is yours."
We headed down the hall toward the guest suite. "If you keep going you'll hit the garage and back patio door but your room is through here. Those other doors stay locked since the guest suite has its own patio entrance. You can come and go if you need to."
I pushed open the door to the guest suite and showed him in. It was like walking into a little house; the Stocks had originally been a simple farm cottage that had grown a mansion attached to it. It had been Marek's idea of "adding on."
The suite had kept its rustic trappings, looking authentically decorated in what I figured was probably post-Revolutionary Americana and was completely out of character with the rest of the property.
Living at the Stocks had often made me feel out of place and sometimes the you-break-it-you-buy-it feelings ran a little high. I'd often escaped the oppression of luxury by coming down here to read, enjoying the simple feel of country and flannel and comfortable imperfection. Euphrates usually stayed down here when I was gone. Rodrian even had the grounds man install a pet door so Fraidy could go outside whenever he wanted.
He was a very happy cat here. I wondered how he'd react to a werewolf moving in with him.
Toby crossed the sitting room to the windows and peered through the curtains. "Wow! That's some big yard, Red."
"You mean you didn't notice it from the driveway?"
"Not really. The house was in the way. These woods yours?"
"Yeah. Hey, if you need woods, there you go. Just don't leave presents on the door mat."
"Oh," he said. "I expect I'll be gone by full moon. This is just temporary."
"Sure," I said, although I didn't believe him. "Anyway, that's your bedroom around the corner, there."
He bounded through the door but came to an abrupt stop.
"Gee," he said, sounding less than enthusiastic. "Bed's so...well, I can smell you. Not that it's bad, or anything," he added hurriedly.
"I know and I'm sorry. It's my old bed. I stay down here sometimes." I hadn't really thought it all the way through that someone would be sleeping in my bed. It kind of struck a discord. I had it broken in, just the way I liked it, and now some goofy kid was going to wolf it all up. "Sometimes I can't sleep and I come down to read. I'd offer you one of the rooms upstairs but Shiloh is up there and I just don't think that would go over well."
The house phone rang. "I got to get that. Make yourself at home."
I sprinted out to the foyer and up to the office. If I didn't soon get a phone put in the den, I thought, my heart will explode. I wasn't built for such strenuous exercise. Maybe I needed the Rocky theme for the ringtone.
Caller ID showed it was The Mag. Who could still be there at this time? "Hello?"
"Hello, hello," came Barb's voice. "Emergency editorial meeting at seven tonight."
"Seven? I just walked in. You mean I have to come all the way back into town?"
"Happens. Marketing lost a full-page ad and we need to fill the gap. It can't wait until tomorrow."
I shouldered the phone and shuffled through clips and piles on my desk. "Do I need to bring anything to offer?"
"Nope. You'll pretty much just sit there, listen to everyone else, and agree that what they want is right. This is a seniors meeting. You're too junior to contribute."
"Then why do I need to come in?"
"Appearances. That office of yours comes with a lot of baggage, kiddo."
No kidding. I was starting to regret my choices. Still. I had to maintain my station. I couldn't stop being a Sophia, and it wasn't like I could give back my office. I really liked it. It was a huge sneeze guard. I sighed.
"Sophie? Are you there?"
"Yeah, okay. I'm just thinking about the drive. There's construction in the eastbound lane. Traffic was backed up for miles."
"Make sure you give yourself enough time to get in. You know, it wouldn't have been a problem when you lived in the city."
I considered that. Of course, I left my last apartment because I was being chased by a werewolf. Who, incidentally, turned out to be a friend and, also incidentally, was some-where downstairs getting ready to move into my house. Damn and blast. My compassionate choices were already biting me in the ass.
Well, at least it was only figuratively. I wasn't the biggest fan of teeth marks.
I ran down to the tri-suites and checked the fridge, hungry and hating to run out on Toby so soon after bringing him here. Finding a bowl of leftover rice and beans from Dahlia's last visit, I stuck it into the microwave and hit the leftovers button.
Might be a good idea to find a hot dog or two to add to it, I thought, remembering Toby's dismay at the noodle-and-nothing-else shop, as he called it.
By the time I had everything heated, it was almost time for me to head back to town. I stopped in the office to pick up my purse, which I'd dropped on the desk when I had answered the phone.
Toby was in the office when I walked in. He was perusing my music collection with amusement. Why was my taste in music funny to these kids? Hard rock was a perfectly enjoyable form of music. An art form, if you will.
He lifted his chin in the direction of my rooms. "What's down the creepy hallway?"
"Oh." I was pretty sure I knew which one he meant. "That's my bedroom down there."
"How can you stand it? I get itchy just looking at the door."
I shrugged and held out the covered bowl. "I don't know. It doesn't bother me."
"Well." He took the bowl, sniffing it and smiling his appreciation. "I don't think you're like anybody else. You must be a heck of a lot more if you can stand that pit of pricklies. Feels like a booby trap or something. No wonder you've been sleeping in my bed."
I smirked. "Just stay out of trouble. I need to go back to work for a while so maybe you want to hang out in your room until I get back."
I didn't even point out how much I disliked hearing him say "my bed" and mean "his bed". Oh well, I made the bed, no matter whose it was now, so I supposed I'd have to lie in it.
Sad thing was I didn't know what bothered me more: him sleeping in my bed or me going back to sleeping in Marek's.
Just—ugh.
Three hours later, my patience for evening driving depleted, and my brows lowered in stubborn disgust at having to waste an entire evening at a useless appearance at a stupid editorial board, I arrived home feeling slightly punished. Curse you, day job. I was too tired to shake my fist in anger.
Once upstairs, I faced down the mammoth bed, glaring at it. It was time for a change.
I set upon the task of removing the thick bed curtains. Perhaps it would help alleviate the dreams and the fear of confinement. That's how I felt when I woke up from one of those dreams. Trapped.
The poles were tight and took a little elbow grease (and more than a little swearing) but eventually I got the curtains off. I dragged the dusty things out to the hallway and heaved them over the banister, intending to take them downstairs to the industrial washer I'd seen in the boiler room. Returning to my quarters, I gave one last inspection of the room.
The only thing left to do was to get rid of the cruddy old sword hanging over the bed. I hadn't really noticed it before when the bed clothes were in the way but now it stuck out like the anti-Martha Stewart had taken a go at decorating. I didn't relish the thought of falling asleep with a monstrous-looking blade dangling over my head.
Euphrates had wandered in and investigated the room, pausing to rub his back on the bureau and against the leg of the bed. Eventually he hopped up on the bed and sprawle
d across my pillow, stretching and rubbing his chin against the blanket. He blinked lazily at me, giving me his best glare. Hopefully we'd both be sleeping good tonight.
Feeling pretty much defeated as far as my bed went, I grabbed a stack of sheets from the linen closet in the hallway before heading down to check on my newest orphan. Downstairs Toby was fooling with the pet door. He appeared to be pretty fascinated by the little gate.
I lifted the stack of sheets in explanation before I walked toward the bedroom and peered through the door. He'd rearranged the room completely, positioning the bed under the now-open window.
He glanced up when I rapped on the doorway.
"I met your cat," he said.
"I saw. You didn't scare him, did you?"
"Nah. He came in through the pet door, I guess. He's pretty smart. I asked him where he came from and he led me to that little door. He's a cool little guy."
"So. You made friends with my cat? I figured he would have fallen down dead when he saw you."
"Aw, he don't like strangers?"
"He doesn't see many, no, but I'm sure you're the first Were he's met."
Toby just lifted his shoulders in a shrug. "It's not the moon yet. He thinks I'm just a guy who knows how to pet a cat the right way. Don't tell him, okay? About me, I mean. I don't want to upset him."
Were we still talking about my cat? Toby spoke of him as if Euphrates was a person, not an animal, even though Euphrates considered himself the smartest beast in the room. "No problem. And here—I brought you fresh sheets."
He looked contrite. "Thanks. I just don't want to cause problems by wearing your scent like that. People might get the wrong idea about us."
Oh, boy. That was another thing I hadn't thought all the way through. What if cohabitating with a werewolf caused problems for him? I was fine taking a dirty look from Rodrian but I hadn't given any consideration to Toby's position.
"I have some fabric freshener upstairs," I said. "I'll grab you some. Like, right now."
By the time I got back downstairs, the curtains—and Toby—were nowhere to be seen. I took the fabric freshener to his room, calling for him. Not there, either. Maybe he'd tried out the pet door. As I checked out the dimensions, wondering if he'd wolfed up or whatever we would call it, I heard the basement door clack shut. His footsteps sounded in the hallway a moment later.