“Five minutes.” Justin dropped his hold and crossed his arms over his chest, his legs spread and planted firmly to the entryway flooring.
“Alone,” Tristan said.
Justin’s arms swung down. “Not a chance,” he snarled.
“What is going on, Tristan?” Katrina asked, coming down the stairs, around Marissa. She glided towards us wearing a confused expression. “Why would you think Janie’s the one from the promise?”
The one. Wasn’t that what the man in my dream had asked?
“Ericka came to me a few months ago and told me the promised one would be revealed to me and I would know her.”
“That doesn’t mean anything, sweetheart.” His mother gently placed her hand on his arm. “You know that there are only two possible girls it could be.”
“No, that’s not true.” He shook off her hold and went to the base of the stairs.
“Tell them,” he said, staring at Lukas. “They have a right to know. Janie has the right to know.”
“It is possible,” Lukas admitted. Marissa cried out in disbelief at his admission. Apparently, he knew something none of the others did.
Adam walked up behind Tristan, placing a hand on his shoulder. “How possible, Lukas?”
“Very possible.” He went up the stairs leaving the room shocked silent by his words. Confusion flooded me. What the hell was everyone talking about?
“How did you know?” Adam asked Tristan.
“The first couple times I wasn’t sure. Then I saw the mark.”
“What mark?” I asked. Only Justin acknowledged my question with a shrug of his shoulders.
“Are you sure it was the mark?”
“Lisa saw it, too.” Everyone turned to Lisa for confirmation. She nodded.
I tried to think of what Lisa might have seen. My birthmark, or whatever the thing was. This was all because I had a stupid birthmark? He saw it and thought I was going to be the cure?
“This is all about the mark on my back?” I stared at him with accusing eyes. “Is that why you’ve been dating me?”
“No!” He rushed to me, grasping my upper arms. “It only told me what I already suspected.” His voice dropped and he lowered his face closer to mine. “That very first day when you ran through the library, I felt it. On the hike, you seemed so scared just to be there and then Rachel latched onto you so I couldn’t say anything. Once I saw the scar, I knew it was you. I didn’t have to try to stay away from you. I didn’t have to hide what we are.”
“But you did! I’ve been here almost eight weeks. I asked you what was going on and you wouldn’t tell me,” I snapped. “Now, Justin’s yelling about me dying and you seem pretty calm about it.”
The pain of betrayal, of disappointment pulsed through me, touching every nerve and spinning me back to the past where I was being beaten down again. The urge to cower in the corner was almost overwhelming, but I stood my ground.
“That’s not true, Janie.” Tristan closed the gap between us quickly, but not touching. “I couldn’t tell you about the infection. We have laws. I had to get the permission of the Council, even then I was ... I didn’t want you to freak out and go back to Dallas. I’m sorry. I couldn’t risk losing you.”
“Janie,” Justin interrupted. “All of this doesn’t really matter. They want you dead. Let’s go.”
“Please, let me finish, Janie.” Tristan gently wrapped his arms around me, pressing his face close to my ear. “I was terrified. What if I’d been wrong? What if you weren’t the one we were waiting for? Telling an outsider could mean our death.” His breath stirred the hair at my temple, as his lips brushed my skin.
“Do you still want me to be the one from the promise? Even if it means I’ll die?”
“I won’t let you. There are many paths to the future. Yes, one path could bring your death and possibly cure us, but there are other paths, another we will take.”
“But how am I the cure? And why do I die?”
“We don’t want you dead, dear,” Katrina assured me. I let go of Tristan and turned to Katrina. She came over to brush my hair from my eyes and I flinched from the motherly touch. She gave an understanding smile and looked to Tristan. “You should have told us this.”
“You know what will happen when Kas finds out. I couldn’t say anything without putting Janie at risk.” Tristan turned so that one arm still wrapped me in his calming embrace.
“Son, what did you tell the Council?” Adam asked from his position beside Marissa. She was still slumped on the stairs her head buried in her hands.
“I told them the truth, that Ericka gave her approval.”
“They didn’t question why she did that?”
Tristan shook his head. “You know them; they never question Ericka’s word.”
Everything was jumbled in my mind and I couldn’t sort it out. I finally blurted out, “I need some space. Time to think about all of this.”
“Good,” Justin said, coming forward.
“I’m not leaving. Yet. I just need a few minutes alone to process everything. To just breathe.” I grabbed my hoodie from the closet and walked out the front door. No one stopped me, though I could feel Tristan’s eyes following me through the window.
I made my way to an old tire swing that hung from a massive pine tree about fifty feet from the cabin. Climbing on, I pushed off with one foot and propelled myself in a twirling motion. The dizzying ride was not enough to catch up to my thoughts. At that point, I didn’t know what to believe.
“You were four the last time I saw you do that.”
I jerked upwards, my foot skidding through the grass to stop my twists.
Lukas was leaning against the tree trunk. You don’t get your talent from your mother. You get it from your father. Lukas-? Could it be possible? Very possible. My stomach clenched and, trembling, I stood and brushed at the dirt clinging to my jeans, needing to orient myself to what was happening.
“It was our last weekend together and I took you to Central Park. You had so much fun. It broke my heart that it was our last one together.” Regret shone from his eyes.
My father. I’d stopped imagining this meeting long ago. Until moving to Everod, I hadn’t thought of him in years. Now I was less than ten feet from him. A bitter taste filled my mouth. There were so many words I wanted to say. Words of anger and hatred, disappointment and betrayal. The old Janie I had worked so hard to vanquish rose inside of me and I did what came natural; I turned and walked away.
“Janie,” he called, but I kept going, leaving him and the cabin behind me.
I reached the tree line and entered the heavy woods. I took only a step in, determined to hide in the darkness, but unwilling to venture too far into the unknown. Wrapping my arms around a tree, I pressed my face against the rough bark, the stinging bite a painful relief from the wild emotions tumbling inside me.
The familiar tingle on my skin revealed Tristan’s presence before he emerged from the dark only a foot away. I didn’t let go of the tree, only wrapped my arms tighter. I wanted to feel this, I needed to feel it.
“Don’t say anything,” I whispered pleadingly.
He nodded and continued to study me. I stood there, hugging my tree for what seemed like hours and he stood unquestioning.
“I don’t know what to say to him,” I said in a hushed tone. He didn’t reply, just waited. “He left me. He left me with her.”
I sobbed and my arms fell from the tree. The instant I released it Tristan’s arms were around me. “Why?”
“Ask him, Janie,” he said softly. “That’s all you need to do.”
“Not now. I can’t see him now.”
“Tomorrow will be soon enough,” he answered.
He guided me back to the cabin. As we trudged up the steps, I saw Lukas sitting in the rocking chair watching us, his hands gripping the arms with white knuckles. He was different than I expected. His hair was neatly trimmed and he wasn’t as big as I remembered. High cheekbones and a large eagle like no
se sculpted his face into unmistakable Native American features. Except for the hair, he looked nothing like me.
None of us said anything as Tristan led me inside and up to my room. I collapsed on the bed face down. Tristan rolled me over and pulled off the hoodie then tugged off my sneakers. I watched in a trance as his nimble fingers worked the buttons of my sweater. Instinctively I grabbed his hand, drawing his attention to my face.
I reached up and gripped his neck, pulling his lips to mine. Bursts of sensations flew through me. I kissed his lips then let my lips travel down to the base of his throat. I pressed my mouth to the beating of his pulse, loving the flow of life. His heart beat rapid and unsteady, dismissing any feelings of rejection. Our mouths met again. Frenzied emotions drove me and I burrowed my fingers through his hair pressing harder. He answered by rolling us over until he was beneath me.
I was in control. That was what I wanted. I tugged at his shirt, pulling it over his head then yanked at my t-shirt. The fabric tore, the harsh ripping inconsequential to me. But Tristan stilled. His hands locked around mine freezing them as well. I pulled, trying to get loose, but he held fast.
“Please,” I begged, kissing his eyes, his cheeks, his lips. “Please. Make me forget.”
“Not like this, Janie.” His eyes were squeezed shut, blocking me from seeing into their blue depths. “As much as I want to... God, I really want to.” He gave a breathy laugh. “We can’t. Not like this.”
His voice had turned stubborn and I knew there would be no changing his mind. I groaned in frustration, letting my head drop to his chest, pressing myself against his body, feeling his desire for me. He shifted out from under me and sat up, resting his arms on his knees, breathing deeply.
“I-” he cleared his throat, “I’ll see you downstairs.”
He left and I stayed on the bed trying to calm my thundering heart. I couldn’t believe he’d gone, but at the same time, I was glad. I loved him, but to take it further now wouldn’t have been an expression of that love. It would have been anger and fear. When we finally made love, I wanted it to be about us, nothing else.
I tried to put the pieces of my life, my reality back together. Get in control. I needed to make sense of everything, if that was even possible considering what Tristan had shown me. I thought back over what I had learned.
I thought of Tristan pulling the blade through his fist, then of him transforming into a wolf and shuddered. That was one ability I never wanted him to demonstrate again. My mind refused to acknowledge the word shape shifter, or worse, werewolf. Of everything he had told me, had shown me, that was the hardest to comprehend, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to.
Some of them wanted to kill me. This frightened me more than anything. Tristan said that was only one path. But I’d seen his face when he’d spoken of a cure. I felt my heart stutter as I realized I could cure him. He may choose my life over his own and those of the entire town, but would I? A town that included my father. My father. I rubbed my hands across my face, pressing the heels of my palms into my eyes. Tristan was right, tomorrow would be soon enough to think of Lukas.
I considered each thought with a certainty I hadn’t known I felt. Tristan had proven to me beyond all realm of possibility that he was what he said. Fitting what he’d told me and what I knew was logical and realistic bordered on impossible. I closed my eyes for a moment, shutting out the brilliant morning light filtering through the window. When I opened them again it was with a determination to get the final pieces of the puzzle.
By the time I made my way down to the kitchen, Lukas, Marissa, Tristan and his parent had repositioned themselves around the table. Only Justin refused to join them, slouching against the wall by the door. I wanted to hug him for his loyalty. “Start at the beginning. I want to know how it’s even conceivable that I could be the cure.”
Before anyone could say anything, Lukas said, “It started with the Wolf.”
Chapter 18
“The Wolf was a man who was able to manipulate his genetic makeup, letting him take the form of the wolf.” Lukas said, picking up his coffee mug and cradling it close to his lips.
“In the early-twentieth century, scientists were beginning to experiment with creating animal hybrids,” Lukas began. “Dr. Grigory Markov was one of those scientists. He was a biologist obsessed with the theories of lycanthropy.”
Katrina disappeared for a moment into the living room, returning with a framed picture, handing it to Lukas. Lukas passed the frame to me. In the photo, an elderly man was crouched low next to a pack of wolves.
“Other scientists had attempted to create new species, hybrids of two different animals. Some even broke laws to experiment with human women, hoping they’d create one of these hybrids. Dr. Markov worked with a Russian biologist on these experiments until the biologist was arrested and exiled in the early thirties. Dr. Markov fled Russian and settled here in Everod, where he could devote his life to researching human hybridization. While his colleague had focused on breeding, Markov was convinced the initial transformation had to be a transfusion of infected blood. He had no idea that what he was doing was altering DNA. After years of research and testing on animals, he finally believed he’d accomplished it, so he tested it on himself. He injected himself with the serum, an infection, forever altering his DNA.”
“Just like that?” Justin asked. “With one little needle and the guy created werewolves?”
“We prefer the term Lycan,” Marissa said. Katrina gave her a sharp look.
“It was an excruciating process and he very nearly died,” Lukas said. “For weeks he thought it had been unsuccessful then the changes began - sensitivity to sounds and smells, increased night vision, and the healing. Finally it happened. One night he morphed into a wolf, though only for a short period before taking his human body again.”
I shook my head, completely overwhelmed by everything I was hearing. “Werewolves are myths. Stories started centuries ago by superstitious villagers to scare their children into staying inside on full nights.” It all seemed so impossible, yet how else could I explain what I had seen Tristan do?
“The Wolf is not myth or magic. He’s science,” Marissa snapped at me and I decided then that we just weren’t going to get along. Anyone who could fault me for having difficulty believing all of this was going to be too much for me to deal with.
Lukas shushed her and motioned with his hand for her to leave, giving a small smile to soften the blow before turning his attention back to me. “What he did was a hybridization, science he did not completely understand the consequences of. He had no control over when the wolf would come out. Still, he felt he’d been successful and he infected the entire village. Many of them didn’t survive the initial illness, their bodies unable to adapt to the changes. Some survived, but their lives were dominated by controlling the beast that was now living within them.”
“And he kept infecting people even after he knew they could die? That’s messed up,” Justin said.
“He was messed up,” Adam conceded. “Dr. Markov was striving to perfect the science he had discovered. He didn’t infect everyone. Once others began to change, they struggled even with their wolves just as much as he did. The biggest difference was that unlike him, they hadn’t chosen this life. They were angry and destroyed by what this infection meant. All of the villagers lost someone to the infection; some had lost their whole family. Then they were faced with living under his control for the rest of their lives. He was their wolves’ creator and Alpha. And being under his control meant staying here in Everod where he could continue his experiments on them.”
Lukas paused in his retelling to sip his coffee.
“This all real interesting, but get to the part where Janie is a sacrifice so Janie can see how crazy this all is and leave.” Justin’s lip curled in frustration.
“What Dr. Markov didn’t know was that in all the years he worked to perfect the infection his mate, Clara, was trying to find a cure,” Katrina explained.
“She was a medical doctor. Clara didn’t find the cure, but she did find a girl.”
“Amelia,” Tristan whispered. The name from the book.
Katrina nodded. “Amelia. But she was not just some random girl. She was immune to the infection. She’d been born to infected parents. Her siblings had all been born infected, yet she never showed signs of the change. Dr. Markov attempted to infect her, but it never happened and when Amelia gave birth to a boy, he was infected from his father’s side.”
“You can tell if they’re infected when they’re born?” I asked.
“It’s pretty easy to check,” Tristan said. “Take a needle and drag it across the back of their hand. If they are infected, any mark would be gone within seconds.”
“You say that like it’s normal,” Justin said.
Tristan shrugged. “Every baby born in town has it done. I remember Ms. Markov doing it to Bryce’s little sister.”
Lukas shifted in his chair, resting his elbows on the table. His palms pressed together and he interlocked his fingers just at the tips. I could see in their long slender lengths my own. He noticed me staring and I flicked my eyes over to Adam.
“When Amelia gave birth to twin girls, one was Lycan, but the other was not,” Adam said. “Dr. Markov tried to infect her, but she never reacted to the serum. When she was three, she became ill and died. Dr. Markov died shortly after. His mate, Clara continued searching for an answer until she was on her deathbed. That’s when she called for Amelia. Clara predicted that a girl from her bloodline would free us from the infection.”
“So this…you’re all just like the product of a science experiment?” Even to my own ears, my phrasing sounded a bit harsh, but the explanation was just as hard to take in as some kind of mythological one I’d been expecting.
Waken (The Woods of Everod Book 1) Page 15