by Shawn Reilly
He put cream in his coffee and took a sip before he went on. “Anyway, I was eight when Grant found me and brought me here. Ari followed a few years later. We were actually living in Okinawa before that. Ari doesn’t remember it since he’s two years younger than I, but that was where I developed an interest in drawing, and since my school master loved manga, I fell into that too. I’ve taken a lot of flak on the account of it over the years. I’m not sure why, but I guess it’s not the sort of hobby a man like me is supposed to have.”
“But the first book of the Tale of Two Brothers series came out ten years ago,” Elle thought back. “I was twelve. The first book, The Call was the last gift my grandmother gave me before she died.”
“I find that ironic.” Asher twisted around so that he was facing her. “I was just seventeen. Writing The Call was how I coped with Grant’s death. I never meant for it to be published. Ari did that. He sent it in.” With his brothers coming, Asher resumed eating.
He took a couple of bites of steamed vegetables before he swallowed and said, “I’ve never cared about the money or fame. The bio is fictional. I just wrote them because I didn’t know what else to do. It passed time.” He turned his eyes on her, and considered her expression. “Somehow I don’t think the last book was all that great of a hit.”
“I didn’t exactly have a chance to finish it. The flow and theme was different. Pain’s character was definitely less likable, but I was just ten chapters in when…” Elle allowed her words to trail off as a new string of thoughts flashed into her mind—Julio throwing the book at her and Asher’s intense look on the rooftop when he asked her about the book. “Wait, you do feel obligated to me. Asher this offer you plan to make—”
“Has nothing to do with that,” Ari said. Again, timing wasn’t a friend. “Nixon may have jumped in too soon but truth is, the fools been drawing your face for over a year, and when I say fool, I mean in this case Asher. Oh, and let’s not forget the dreams where he sees you standing before his grave. Asher’s prone to strange dreams, but then again most Keepers are. I think it has something to do with the fact they live under a curse.”
Ari sat two full plates of food down in front of her as he talked. He removed a napkin from the table and placed it on her lap, and with a friendly pat on the shoulder, he left to go get his own food. The whole time Ari talked Asher did nothing but cut his chicken into small pieces. There was no red glow or show of outward agitation in his gaze.
If anything, under her surveillance, Asher appeared awkwardly embarrassed. Elle had noted Ari’s dry somewhat monotone delivery. Except for calling Asher a fool, which seemed a favorite name they both used for each other, he wasn’t speaking angrily as he had before. This was all the assumption she needed that Ari was speaking the truth.
“You drew my face?” she stressed each word. Asher cleared his throat after a bite went down bad and took a drink of water.
“It’s real good, not like the Japanese cartoons he usually draws,” Nixon told her. “He drew your face exactly as it is now. That’s how we all knew it was you and that you’re supposed to be with us. The reason I knew your eyes were blue though was on the account that’s the only thing he colors in. He has a certain blue pastel he uses. The colors exactly—”
“What I told you,” Asher cut Nixon off midsentence. This time he chose to stop eating long enough to explain and kept the water glass in hand, “about the vow is true.”
“In other words no freaky-dink,” Nixon interrupted.
“I can do this without you present.” Asher sent a glare his way. Nixon went back to tearing into his steak with relish. He shook his head smartly a few times but kept silent. “Anyhow,” Asher said, “yes the face was yours, and yes it was very accurate, but matters have changed and that is what we were arguing about upstairs and why Ari is angry. He doesn’t agree with what I’ve come up with.”
Elle saw the falter of his eyes as he scanned over her person, and she carefully sat her mug down. Coffee sloshed over onto her fingers. She drew them back and wiped them on the napkin Ari had placed on her lap. Ari returned and sat quietly eating as Asher continued talking.
“As Keeper I’m held to certain standards, and I can only assume that purity wasn’t a factor with Mea since she was able to produce Grant’s child. That child Elle is a rarity. Female wolves are only born in the essence that there has not been an heir provided to the Keeper. ”
Elle thought of Mea with her bloodshot eyes, skinny body and fat Harley boyfriend. Possibly she didn’t know her like Grant had, but she didn’t exactly strum up visions of wholesomeness when she was throwing up her Jim Beam.
“So you see, the dilemma,” Ari, talked with his mouth full. He had drank several more glasses of the brown liquid after asking for the empty decanter to be refilled, and she wasn’t even sure he knew just how drunk he really was. “Usually an heir is provided when the Keepers young, so the purity vow doesn’t have to become an issue, but none has been provided to Asher. That alone has the fool believing that because of the whole female wolf thing, Mary was meant to be his future mate.”
Ari stuck a chunk of pinkish meat in his mouth and pointed his fork directly at Elle as he chewed. “Then to further complicate matters, he thought the face he was drawing with the eyes of an angel was Mary. He thought she was gonna grow up and jump at the idea of producing his pup, but now there’s the matter of you and you’re not exactly being—” Ari didn’t finish. He suddenly sat up straight and focused his eyes on her. Up until that time he had been talking indirectly.
“Pure?” Elle finished for him. She pushed her seat back and stood up. The napkin dropped to the ground. “If you don’t mind I think I’ll turn in.”
When Elle turned to leave, Asher stood in front of her. She hadn’t even noticed him get up, and yet he was there all the same. Not only was he blocking her, he was doing it in a way that let her know he had no plans to let her go.
“Sit, I’m not finished. There still is a matter I wish to discuss with you,” he insisted.
Without thinking Elle dropped onto her seat. She pushed her hardly touched plate of food back, and avoided looking at any of them, even Asher when he position his chair so that he was looking directly into her profile.
Instead, she sat head down, wishing she could drift away into a deep sleep for all eternity. No matter what Asher had thought that image of his drawing meant to him, he couldn’t have her because of her tainted past.
She had never felt so tarnished before.
“The comment you said in regard to your boyfriend—”
“Ex-boyfriend,” Nixon interrupted once more and Asher sent a red glare his way.
When he turned back the rings faded. He quietly watched her before continuing. “Elle, this was a difficult decision in more ways than one. You told me what your ex-boyfriend called himself but I can’t be anything but that. In my world there is a thing called a common law contract between a man and a woman. I will care for you and provide for you, but I will not fall in love with you. If you sign the contract, you need to take that into careful consideration.”
“That contract will also bind you only to him,” Ari added. “In other words, he wishes you to be Rapunzel locked away in his tower, a slave to taking care of him and the children without the possibility of ever knowing love. You will not be allowed to fall in love with him or anyone. He can still take a wife to produce his heir, but you will be bound to him for as long as you live.”
“Then if you just want a nanny why can’t you just offer me a job, without the contract?” she argued.
Asher shook his head as he spoke, “That is not a possibility and is adjacent to those laws I have to uphold. You’re an outsider, and you’re not a Lake, and only Lakes can live in the manor.”
“This contract sounds to me like a marriage,” she said.
“Our laws are different,” Ari said. “In our world bigamy is common practice. A man can take as many contracts with women as he wants, and still have but one
true wife.”
“Yes, but a Keeper is different, I’m different,” Asher said. “The contract with me will be in name only but I will expect things from you—not,” he emphasized when she fixed a questioning gaze upon him, “that, because I won’t be free of my vow of chastity until I fulfill my obligation as Keeper. In the meantime I will not be another Julio.”
“And what about my baby?”
“Your baby will be one of us, another Lake and he or she will be well cared for. I will see to that personally. No child should ever come into this world unwanted.”
“Asher, I appreciate the offer but there are nanny services, and—”
“I wish to protect you,” Asher interrupted, “and after what I’ve seen and learned I can’t just let you leave. I told you the decision is yours to make but the only choice I’m willing to let you make, is whether you wish to stay here at the Plaza alone or move in with us at Lake Manor.”
“Asher, that’s a little unlike you.” Nixon uttered under his breath.
This time when Elle pushed back her chair Asher didn’t stop her, nor did he look up. She took a step back to test his complacency to let her go. “I appreciate everything you’ve done, Asher, but I’m leaving. Regardless of what you drew, I’m obviously not the person you pictured.”
“You don’t have any shoes, Elle. I saw to that so you couldn’t go anywhere.” Asher stood and started walking in her direction, and she continued to back away.
“So much for allowing her to make her own choice,” Ari loudly called from the table.
“I think you need to sleep on the matter Elle,” Asher nodded. “That will help to clear your mind. Maybe when you wake up, you’ll see things my way.”
Elle saw his hand move swiftly to her shoulder but by the time she realized he was using some sort of magic on her it was too late. She fell forward, and by the time she reached his arms, sleep won over.
Chapter Twenty-One
The Lily
The clock read two a.m. when Elle finally opened her eyes. She had been placed on Ari’s bed and the very second she sat up and the covers fell away, she realized she had been taken advantage of. She was no longer dressed in Kennedy’s clothes, and instead was wearing a man’s white dress shirt in place of a nightgown. She felt hot and angry. She needed fresh air and she needed it fast. Pulling on the white robe lying at the foot of the bed, she crossed the carpeted floor in her bare feet.
Asher had taken her shoes so she couldn’t run.
Asher had now taken her clothes.
Elle suddenly felt the urge to kill Asher Lake.
After figuring out the lock on the sliding glass door, she slid it aside and stepped out onto the balcony. The floor was cold underfoot and a strong wind swept her hair back over her shoulders as she gripped the railing. The street below was lit with street lamps but only a few people could be seen milling about at such an early hour, and those people were further down the street where the popular hangouts were.
She looked to the building across the street and up at the yellow sign, wondering of the ironies of life. She had dreamed of a man like Grant and now she had his family, but Elle wasn’t so sure she liked the arrangement.
“Not a bad legacy to leave behind, is it?”
Jerking her head toward the sound of the voice, she narrowed her eyes in the dark, forcing them to adjust. She found him, a darkened form lying in a chase lounge a few feet away. Behind him, the sliding door to his room was left open, and the curtain blown back by the wind, revealed a lit room with an unmade bed.
Dropping his legs over the side of the chair, Asher stood up, and swayed forward. Her first thought was that she had mistaken him for his brother since the last time she had seen Ari, he was very drunk but there was no mistaking Asher. He walked to where she stood and faced the railing. His hair whipped about his face as he looked down at the street.
“If I knew one of those people were Ari, I would spit.”
Elle rolled her eyes at him. “Are you telling me you don’t know where he is?”
“Nope, he took off right after I knocked you out. He is quite angry with me.”
Elle folded her arms over her chest and frowned in his direction. “He’s not the only one. For your sake Asher please tell me that you had Kennedy remove my clothes?”
He put his back to the railing and ran a hand through his hair. “Ari doesn’t typically drink. We don’t handle liquor well. I don’t usually care about what he does but tonight I do-o.”
Elle caught the scent of alcohol on Asher’s breath. “He made his opinion clear enough,” she said. “But you didn’t answer my question.”
“And what question was that?” Roughly he ran his hand through his hair again. “Damn moon has everything messed up right now.”
Elle looked up to the darkened sky and shrugged, “There is no moon.”
“E-xactly, I bet you didn’t know the lunar month takes twenty-nine and a half days, because that’s how long it takes for one new moon to go to the next. A new moon which is what we have now,” Asher pointed at random skyward, “is what we ani-shifts call a dead moon. We can’t see it because half of the moon is lit by the sun while the other half is in darkness. The moon gives us our abilities—me even more than others, and its forces are especially stronger in the waxing cycles.” He did a strange karate chop in the air. “When there is none, it tends to make us really weird.”
“I can see that but I can also tell that you’ve been drinking.”
“Yep,” Asher nodded. “I believe I have and that is a really, really, really foolish thing to do right now since I am after all, in my weaker state.” Asher turned toward her. “And when it comes to your clothes, I am quite artfully and magically skilled. Just a snap—” He meant to snap his fingers together but when he couldn’t, he became sidetracked in trying to make them.
“Ash,” Nixon called.
“Out here Nixon,” Elle called back. She didn’t have a clue what Asher’s intentions were but whatever they were was being obscured by what he was drinking. During his talk he had made things clear. He felt sorry for her and maybe even liked her on some level, but she would be nothing to him but a glorified nanny.
He took another step in her direction and she put a hand on his chest to keep him at a distance. Stepping out of the room, Nixon flashed yellow eyes in their direction just as Asher suddenly slumped into her. The impact of his body nearly took her breath away. She held him up the best she could but she could feel her arms slipping.
“He’s quite drunk,” she told Nixon.
“Quite isn’t quite the right word,” Nixon laughed. He took Asher by the arm and ducking down, he draped it over his shoulder. “He’s had two drinks and two small ones at that. Certain things tend to bother Asher more than it does others. I guess I need to tell him to lay off the whiskey from now on. He’s always been a lightweight but this is very unlike him. I was keeping an eye on him but then I had to take a leak,” he said. “Hey can you give me a hand?”
Elle put her arm around Asher’s waist and helped as Nixon dragged his unresponsive body to the room. “Why does he drink then if it does this?”
“Yeah, well you can get a whole bunch of headaches if you keep wondering why Asher does what he does. Ari usually watches him but he’s still AWOL.”
Once inside, Elle left Nixon long enough to pull back the bedding. Hurrying back, she lowered under Asher’s arm. Just as that arm moved behind her waist, Nixon let loose a little too powerfully and dropped Asher onto the bed. Unable to free herself from his hold, Elle went along for the ride. When they were both done falling, she was lying with her upper half on Asher’s chest, with his left arm pinning her in place against him.
“Oops, that didn’t go so well,” Nixon chuckled quickly pulling at Asher’s arm.
Elle could see that Asher’s eyes were closed but with each embarrassing second, she knew that he was coming to. After four tugs Nixon pulled his arm away, and helped Elle to her feet. Just as she stood, pulli
ng the robe closed over the white shirt, Asher’s eyes faltered open. His blue stare fixed on her and then with a grunt he rolled over onto his side. By the time Nixon pulled the covers up Asher’s eyes were already faltering closed. Only then did Elle breathe.
Nixon, red faced, started laughing. “Well I think it’s time for a drink.”
“Oh no, you don’t,” Elle said. He picked up a glass decanter and lowered it below the bar, “don’t you follow in their footsteps.”
“First of all big sister,” he laughed, “neither the dead moon or alcohol affects me like it does those two meatheads, but I actually just meant a drink drink.” He sat two water bottles on the bar top and gestured to the furniture grouping in the corner.
Elle took the cold bottle in her hand and followed him. The television was on to a war movie but the sound was turned down. She could tell by the blanket and pillow that Nixon had been resting on the couch prior to going to the bathroom.
“Pull up a sofa and keep me company for a bit.” Nixon said. “I can’t leave. I have to play watchdog.”
Asher’s room wasn’t as nice as Ari’s. The small grouping of furniture, a blue plaid couch, two matching chairs and tables suited a normal living room more than it did the rich Plaza, but the appearance was inviting and that’s all that mattered.
“Don’t you think we should shut the door? It’s a little chilly in here,” she asked.
“I will in a moment. I need the air. He may not look heavy but that six foot-something frame is pure rock hard muscle.” Nixon plopped down and peered up at her as he twisted the bottle cap on the water. “So what’s your story neighbor lady? Don’t you have anyone else other than that undeserving thug who mistreated you?”
“No, I don’t,” she let out a sigh and dropped down on the couch. She had been through too much and she was emotionally exhausted. Naturally she believed herself to be a strong woman and a breaking point usually came after numerous insults and abuse, but no one had asked her ‘her story’ before. Like a dam breaking free, Elle’s sobs burst forth and she could not stop them. All she could think about was Asher’s words.