by Mari Freeman
“I bet.” Sonja sat next to her while the others thumbed through more documents that had spilled from the cardboard container.
Nell picked up the wooden box to study it further. She closed her eyes and ran her hand over the texture of the wood. She was tempted to try using her telekinesis to blast it open, and then thought better of it. That would make a mess of the box and probably its contents as well.
One of the moths made its way to the end of Nell’s hand as she felt her way along the ridges of a grain of reddish wood…
Of course!
She concentrated. A shape began to feel alive under her fingers and in her mind. She opened her eyes and smiled. “Here ya go, little sister.” She urged the moth onto the box.
“What are you thinking?” Trina asked.
“Hang on and we’ll see.” Nell scooted the moth a bit forward with her finger, turning her to the right. When the Black Witch was in just the right spot, she stopped and spread her wings as far as they could, shaking them as if to dry them.
“I’ll be,” Mi-ma whispered as the moth began to take on a golden glow. “The moths are part of the box.”
The light emitted was enough to brighten the room. The women all had to squint to watch as the moth turned golden, the intricate outlines and details of her wings hardening into gilded sculpture—and then melding into the box.
Nell traced the outline of the golden moth with her fingertips. She turned the box over a couple times, looking to see if that had triggered anything. “Huh. Not opening it. Must need more than one.” She tried to find another spot that looked like an outline of a moth in the grains of the mixed woods.
“Close your eyes and feel for it again, Nelly,” Sonja said. “See it with your other senses.”
Nell did as Sonja suggested, using her fingers to feel the lines and swirls. After a moment, she found another one. She marked the spot with one hand and retrieved a moth with the other and coaxed her into place. Immediately, the moth began to transform into a golden incarnation.
“This could take a while if you have to cover the entire thing,” Trina said. “I’ll get some more tea.”
Nell glanced up the stairs, wondering just how long Trent was going to stay outside. She closed her eyes and started the search for the next place to put a moth on the box. The room was quiet. “Mi-ma? Did Trent’s dad and grandpa really kill their mates?”
“Yes. Yes, they did,” Mi-ma said, her voice distant, melancholy.
“Concentrate on the box, Nell,” Trina said. “Trent will be back soon. I’m sure he’s not that far away as it is.”
Nell felt the faint outline of a wing. She urged another moth into place. As the insect shimmered into gold, Nell looked at Mi-ma.
“I have to understand. He’s shutting me out.” She closed her eyes and started to feel for the next spot. Her ability to find the designs in the wood seemed to come faster each time. The moths were swarming around her again, each clamoring to be the next piece of the puzzle. She felt their collective magic.
“I don’t know the particulars of his grandmother’s death. For years I heard rumors of Cedric, his grandfather, being a mean drunk. They say he lost his mind with rage one night over something silly at a ceremony for the pack. That he got jealous and tore her limb from limb. But that’s a forty-year-old rumor. We weren’t close enough back then to know much about inter-pack problems.”
Nell managed to find another spot and keep up with Mi-ma’s story. “And his father? I think he was already gone when I first remember Trent in school.”
“He was. Trent was no more than seven or eight when it all happened.” She shook her head and looked to the ceiling. “Was a sad day, it was. Arly, his dad, was the Alpha. Even with the rumors of Cedric’s problems. He married a woman named Ednas, from another pack. It was a smart move because she was the daughter of that pack’s Alpha. The marriage brought strength and allies to both packs. Ednas was widowed and had a young son named Cole.”
“I don’t remember Trent having a step-brother,” Trina said as she came down the stairs with a tray of tea.
“Well. Cole stayed over on Barton’s Ridge, up near West Virginia. That’s where his kin lived, including his Alpha grandfather.” She took a long sip of her drink. Nell felt around for the next moth slot while watching Mi-ma’s animated face. “You see, the grandfather didn’t want that boy around Ednas. She was crazy as a loon and the old Alpha knew it. So he married her off to Arly and made her his problem.”
Always the dramatic storyteller, Mi-ma surveyed their faces to make sure all three girls were enthralled before continuing. “Only thing was, that crazy bitch was also damn evil.” She looked pointedly at Nell. “She gave Arly a son of his own, but she wanted her first son, Cole, to have both packs when he matured. She wanted Trent out of the picture because he was in line for Alpha of his father’s pack. So the lunatic cooked up a plan. She took the whole family on an outing to a cabin up near Pilot Mountain. She waited until they were all asleep—and then she set the cabin on fire.”
Trina gasped and covered her mouth. “With the boys inside?”
“The boys and Arly. Apparently, while he slept, she’d moved Cole close to the front door where she could get to him easily. She’d only intended on Trent and Arly burning up.”
Trina looked as though she where on the verge of tears. Nell’s sister spent most her life protecting others from her abilities. The thought of using fire as a weapon, on purpose, shocked her. “What happened, Mi-ma?”
Nell had stopped her progress with the box, wondering the same thing.
“Well, from what I understand, Trent woke up while she was splashing the gas around. He questioned her, as any child would if he found his mother pouring gasoline all over the divan. Arly came in just as she tried to splash the stuff directly on Trent. Arly, being at his wits end with his loco wife, dragged her out to the woods to get her away from the kids. She attacked him. They both shifted. He killed her dead.”
“Oh my,” Nell breathed, slowly turning the box over to find another location. Another moth glowed golden and then melded with the wood. “But what happened to the brother?”
Mi-ma gave a slow shake of her head. “With all that gasoline everywhere, something sparked the fire. The adults were out in the woods fighting.” She let out a sympathetic sigh. “Her plan backfired, ’cause Cole was the one who didn’t find his way out. Bless his heart.” She looked at Nell. “But Trent did.”
They were all quiet for a moment. Nell saw that Trina was still fighting back tears. Fire deaths always affected her badly.
Nell wondered what Trent actually remembered from that night. The rumors that had circulated in high school sounded more like Trent’s version, that his father was abusive and a murderer.
“Where is Arly now?” Sonja asked.
Mi-ma shrugged her shoulders. “He left shortly after it happened. No one knows for sure. I suspect Trent could find him if he really wanted.”
Trina got up. She paced the length of the basement, stopping at the broken, dingy window. “Wow. So sad.”
“Closing in here,” Nell said as another moth transformed into gold. The back was covered in intricate reliefs of the moths. The front was mostly covered; there were only about three spots left.
How could she broach what she’d learned with Trent? You know, your dad did kill your mother, but she was a loco bitch who deserved it for trying to kill you. Sounded a bit, well…just as bad as saying his dad was an abuser. She wasn’t sure it would help her case. Nope. Trent would have to figure out on his own who he was, and whether he needed her enough to fight through his fears. She couldn’t force it on him and she couldn’t change his view of his world. Trent would have to come to her.
She wondered just how much longer she was willing to wait.
She’d told Trent in anger that she was done with him and his brooding Alpha self. And perhaps she should be. But she could feel him, even now.
* * * * *
Trent watched
from his perch on the top step. The pack of women rambled on about him and his history. He’d heard lots of versions of what had happened with his family. Most came from folks who had no reason to have a version of his life events at all—kids at school, neighbors, drunks and scumbags in the local taverns. He guessed they were pretty bored if they still wanted to talk about his history.
Mi-ma’s account of that night was very different from the versions his classmates and the other Weres had used over the years. It was an interesting take on things. The old Demon was like an all-knowing mountain Buddha. There was a good chance her story was closer to the truth than most others.
Another moth turned into its golden doppelganger and melted into the box. He should interrupt them now. But he wanted to see what happened when the box was completely covered in gold.
No matter how much he’d tried to remember the events of the night his mother had died, Trent had no recollection, so he’d never know for sure. And it didn’t matter. His mom was dead. His father killed her. If she was crazy enough to try to kill her own child, then he had bad genes from both sides of the family. He hated the pity on Trina’s face.
“Last one,” Nell proclaimed. They all gathered around the table. He could see the box over Nell’s shoulder. The single remaining spot was in the center. They all seemed to be holding their breath. He noted that he was too.
She placed her hand on the spot. Several of the moths circled, bumping into one another, making shadows dance across the women and the table. The air that had been moving though the room from the open window to the open door at the top of the stairs stilled.
Finally, she raised her hand into the small swarm of remaining moths. One landed on her forearm. It was a big one. Bright blue and silver laced its wingspan. It looked more like a glimmering fairy than an insect.
She placed her hand back on the edge of the box. Like a flame, the box was irresistible to the moth. It crawled its way down her arm. She turned her hand slightly as it stepped onto the box to keep it on course. It fluttered its wings and turned itself to the right. Nell coaxed it back to the correct position. It turned itself a little to the left, not moving forward or back, just spinning in the open spot.
They all watched as it stood there, a little cockeyed to the moth-shaped spot that remained.
The glowing didn’t start right away, as it had with the others. Sonja glanced around at all the others and then back to the moth. None of the rest of them had taken their eyes off the box or the bug.
Nell sat back. “Now what?”
Trina rushed to the table. Trent stood and glanced around for what may have spooked her. The others tensed.
“Get back,’” she ordered. They followed her instructions without question, moving a step or two away from the table and the box. Even Trent stiffened, ready to intervene if needed. Mi-ma glanced at him but didn’t give him away.
“It’s going to burn,” Trina said.
No sooner were the words out of her mouth than a small fire ignited with a flash under the moth. She didn’t move or resist the flame, just went up like a pint-sized phoenix. Bright orange flames with glowing blue tips engulfed the Black Witch. The brightened room reminded Trent of a dingy, neon-lit tavern. The rest of the moths in the room lit up like giant fireflies dancing on a hot June evening.
“Whoa,” Sonja said as she stepped back to the table to get a closer look at the burning moth. Trina also moved closer to the flame.
A beam shot out of the top of the moth like a searchlight. It blasted the room with an explosive percussion, pushing the women back away from the table and temporarily blinding Trent.
When his eyes adjusted, the light in the room had returned to normal, the flame was gone and the moth was a golden statue standing on top of the box. It hadn’t melded into the wood. And this golden moth was very different.
“Crap! Is that a diamond?” Nell gasped.
“Goodness,” Mi-ma said. “I believe so.”
Hot, Hard & Howling
Chapter Eight
The teardrop-shaped diamond was the biggest Trent had ever seen. Not that he was an expert by any means but the stone that now made up the body of the moth had to be the size of his thumb.
Nell started to reach for the box. Sonja held out both her hands in warning. “Before you touch anything, let me take a picture.” She reached into her back pocket to retrieve her cell phone.
“Good idea,” Nell said as Sonja snapped a few photos.
Trent wasn’t sure any of this was a good idea. And it was time he let the gathering of Halflings know it. “Do you have the slightest inkling what you’re about to do?” he asked as he stomped down the stairs.
Nell answered without looking back. Maybe she’d known he was sitting there all along. Maybe she’d known when Mi-ma was telling the tale of his parents’ fall from grace. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that, though really, it didn’t matter what Nell knew. Her opinion on the subject had no relevance. Nothing had changed. He was still who he was no matter the circumstances of his mother’s death.
“Yes. I do.” She pulled the box closer.
Mi-ma stood and pressed her hands to the back of her hips. She leaned back in an exaggerated stretch. “What’s your concern? It’s a puzzle box. It means to be solved and opened.”
“A cobra means to bite too,” Trent said as he leaned over the table and examined the box more carefully. “That doesn’t mean I want to be on the receiving end of the biting.”
Mi-ma barked out a loud laugh, half-hacking, half-cackling. “You crack me up, young man.”
“Don’t you suppose we should find out what this is before we open it?” Trent directed his attention fully to Nell, not giving Mi-ma or either of the sisters a chance to interject.
“Look. I was attacked over this thing. I’m going to figure out why.” She lifted the box, turning it. The crazy moths were now in gold relief on the outside and Trent could make out the tiniest of seams along the side. The diamond-bodied moth stood above the last of the bug-shaped puzzle spaces.
“Gee, you think it might be the giant diamond?” He was trying to sound imposing. It didn’t work.
“Trent,” Nell sighed but looked at her sister. Sonja nodded her head. Nell set the box on the table and pushed the last moth down into place on the wood. She squealed and yanked her hand away, shaking and blowing on her palm.
“You okay?” Mi-ma asked.
“Burned me.” Nell continued to blow on her hand. “I’m fine.”
The box released a gush of air that sounded like a great exhale, as though it were relieved to be opened. Then, as if on a set of springs, the box opened like a golden clam.
The smell of blood magic filled the basement, making Trent’s shoulders tighten. The women all leaned over the box. He couldn’t see a thing.
“Is that bone?” Trina asked.
“I think so,” Mi-ma said. “Lots of African Voodoo talismans are carved out of bone or ivory.”
Trent worked his way between Nell and Sonja. A necklace rested inside the box, suspended just above the bottom as if in a display case. The chain was decorated with little skulls, teeth and feathers. In the center, a brilliant, forest-green stone with deep red flecks hung from a braided black loop.
Mi-ma took Nell’s hand. “Let me see your hand, girl.”
“It’s fine. Just a small burn.” Nell let her grandmother open her hand.
“Burn?” Trina said. “Jeez-Louise, Nelly. You’ve been branded.”
“It’s fine.” Nell studied the burn for a moment. It was the perfect shape of the moth. She grabbed her laptop and looked to Sonja. “Email me that picture of the moth and take another photo of the beads.”
She was typing away on her computer before Trent had a chance to interject. “Nell. We need to discuss this. I have a responsibility to the Council. I need to be in control of this.”
Nell’s computer rang like a phone. Video call. Crap. The fact that this family was part of his life and he had feelings f
or Nell had impaired his official judgment.
“Wow! Nelly. You look great, love,” a male voice with an English accent sang from the other end of the cyber connection. Trent’s skin crawled.
“You too, Robin. How’s Jeania?”
“Tops. She’s…” There was a slight hesitation and a few keyboard clicks in the background. “Nelly, is this thing in your possession?” Nell nodded at the laptop. “What have you gotten yourself into this time, love?”
“I don’t like the sound of that,” Trina said.
Trent bent forward to be seen by the little camera. “What is it?” The question came out in a growling voice.
The image of Robin on the screen looked at Trent. “Who is that hunk of a Were and what are you up to, my golden Dragon?”
Trent wanted to rip apart the image on the screen. He didn’t have a playful nickname for Nell. Hell, he didn’t have any nickname for her. How did this guy know her Demon form was a Dragon?
A beautiful redhead poked her head over the man’s shoulder. “Hello, Nelly,” she said in a heavy French accent. She kissed Robin on the cheek.
“Jeania!” Nell proclaimed with glee. “Amour du mien.” She blew the woman a kiss.
“Manquez-vous, Nelly,” the woman said. Trent didn’t understand the words, but the woman looked very sad. “Is that your Werewolf?”
Nell looked over her shoulder at him. Her eyes also slipped into sadness. “I guess not,” she said back to the screen.
Trent felt his stomach sink. So the entire world knew of their relationship—or lack of a relationship. He didn’t have time to deal with his emotions at the moment. He steeled his spine. “The necklace? You know something about it?”
“Ah. Yes. It’s the Chiwa talisman. The Beads of Death. A very powerful Voodoo talisman, or gris-gris. Rumor has it that one of the most powerful Palero priests in the world used the Chiwa to change the history of Cuba. A powerful human warlord owned the thing but had no magic to use its power. He traded that talisman to the Palero priest, who performed a spell that started a revolution. Rumor, of course.”