by W. J. May
“He seems pretty fired up.”
“What did he say on the phone?” What am I? An eavesdropping ten year old?
“He was talking to Sally. They were fighting.”
“On the phone? That’s weird. Guess I’d better go see.” I was reluctant. Dealing with Sally had always been a two way street, with Jim it felt more like a one-way with bad construction.
I walked down the stairs and found Jim pacing in the living room.
“Hey. What’s up?”
Jim muttered something under his breath.
All I caught was the word, “disrespectful.” The sharp intake of Grace’s breath told me she’d followed me down the stairs and had heard than I did. Jim’s head shot up when he heard Grace. He gave her a weird smile, then he turned to me.
“Where’s Sally?” I asked before he had a chance to speak.
“Gone. Flew back to Ontario.” He took a swig from the liquor bottle I hadn’t noticed before.
“What?” The word was out before I could stop myself. She left, and didn’t say good-bye? Surely not. “Everything okay in Niagara Falls?” Maybe something had happened to hear family.
Jim snorted. “Figures you’d take her side.” He pointed an accusing finger at me. “You think it’s all a joke. You and her have probably been laughing at me not finding a job.”
Huh? “I—”
“Don’t bother. I can see it in your eyes.” He began pacing the room. “You know what? You’re out. I want you out. Sally was the one who wanted to help your hopeless ass, I only agreed for the crap money. You’re eighteen next month and I’d have booted you out then. Why wait?”
Who would throw a girl with no family out on the street? “I’ve got no where to go!” Sally must have left him. Left us. We weren’t super close, but still. What would make her just up and leave? Unless something had scared her.
Grace stepped in front of Jim, inches from his face.
I blinked. Did she somehow make herself look taller?
Grace spoke quietly but the power behind her voice made me glad she was on my side. “This place is a dump. You should be shot for the care you’ve offered. I’ve seen scum in this world, and you appear to be on the lowest rung. Rouge deserves better than this.”
Startled, Jim shot her a nasty glare. “Shut up!”
Grace didn’t bat an eye. “I never met Sally, but I’m not surprised she left.” She laughed a sound between disbelief and sarcasm. As she stepped back, she grabbed the duffle bag. “You’ve been such an example for Rouge—”
“Of course we have,” he snapped.
“—On what not to do in life,” Grace finished.
“Get out! Both of you and don’t ever come back, Rouge. Ever!” Jim hollered.
Grace pushed me toward the door to the fresh air outside, and led me to the passenger seat. She threw the bag into the back of the car.
“Stay here. I’ll double check if there’s anything else in your room you’re going to need.”
I sat in the car, too dumbfounded to respond.
Life freakin’ sucked. I was officially screwed. Being able to read a weird language as if English and kicked out of the only place I was barely able to call home. What do I do? I leaned my head back onto the seat and closed my eyes. Where was I going to go?
Chapter 11
Grace jumped into the driver’s seat and tossed my iPod, along with a roll of hundred dollar bills wrapped in elastic into my lap. She set my laptop on the backseat. “You deserve your last government check. That’s all the cash he had on him. I should send Caleb back next week for the rest.”
I stared at the cash, then unrolled it and counted. Eight hundred dollars. Folding them, I aligned the corners and then stuffed them into my jeans pocket. My mouth didn’t know how to move and my brain couldn’t get out of its fog of disbelief.
“Don’t worry.” Grace patted my forearm. “Everything’s going to be fine.” She squeezed the bridge of her nose with her fingers. “You need a place. You can stay with me in my room, but you’re going to want privacy. With our abilities, you’ll never feel like you were on your own.” She sat in silence, glaring at the front door then straightened. “I got it! I’ll talk to Sarah first, but I know she’s going to say yes.”
“Uh, what’re you talking about?” I sat watching the windows fog, unsure of what to do and scared to think.
“We have a pool house in the back. Sarah had it built last summer in case… in case we invited school mates over and didn’t want to worry about Caleb. It’s not huge, but there’s a big room with a futon, and it has a bath and a bar that could be used as a kitchen.” She nodded as she started the car. “Yeah, it’ll work out perfectly.”
“I can’t stay at your place.” Caleb, if he were still alive, would probably have a coronary. However, being that close to Michael... I shook my head to clear my thoughts.
“Put your pride away. Be realistic. You’ve got no where and we have space. We can’t – I won’t let you go back to Niagara Falls. You’re my best bud.”
“Thanks. I’m just not sure what to do.” I rubbed my temple. Had I told her I used to live in Niagara Falls? “Maybe for a few days I’ll stay. Then get myself sorted.”
Grace sighed. “Rouge, you’re involved in this – in us - whether you want to be or not. We’re not leaving you. I made that mistake last time, now I’m making up for it.”
The house in front of me began to blur. I wiped the tears away with the back of my hand. Grace wanted to look after me. No one in my entire life had ever stepped up for me. She’d put Jim in his place, and now planned out where I’d rest my head. “Th-Thanks.”
She smiled and reversed the car. “Think nothing of it. Be glad I came instead of Michael. Things would’ve been flying then.” She laughed. “He can be a bit like Caleb sometimes.” She shifted into drive and tore away from the house. “Don’t worry about sleeping arrangements. We need to go home and get you into Caleb’s office. Maybe you can find where the Grollics went. Seems all the beasts go into hiding or running when Caleb comes around.” Grace danced in her seat. “I can’t wait till Monday. I want a camera to take a picture of Damon’s face when we walk in together.”
I chuckled, the tears drying up. Great, now I’m relying on dead people to keep me safe and entertain me. Something was wrong with this picture.
Grace tilted her head and inhaled. “What are you wearing?” She sniffed the air, her little nose scrunched up and her lips puckered. “You always smell like licorice, but now I smell something different.”
I started laughing. “I smell like licorice? Not sure if that’s a compliment. I’m not wearing anything different. I just showered.” Then I remembered putting perfume on. I hardly ever wore it, but did it on a whim. Suddenly my fingernails needed a good picking. I debated leaving it at that, but knew better than to lie to her nose. Get ready to be teased for trying to smell pretty around her brother. I mumbled, “I’m wearing a bit of perfume.”
“Hmmm… it’s nice. What is it?”
“Eternity.” My head popped up, instant burn hit my cheeks. They’re immortal and this little human looks like she’s trying to be around forever. Great, and now I’m talking in my head in third person. “I honestly…I didn’t…do it on purp—”
“Sure.” Sarcasm dripped from her voice. She did her one eyebrow raise, same as Michael’s, and we burst out laughing. We couldn’t stop. Each time we calmed down, we’d look at each other and start all over again.
Pulling into their driveway, we finally sobered. I swallowed, my gut muscles hurt like crazy. “Seriously though, I hope I’m able to help. I still don’t get how the Grollic book isn’t in English.”
“Total freaky, but so awesomely cool. Bet you wish you could do the same with calculus.” She giggled. “We’ll go through some old books of Caleb’s. You need to understand our history, not just the opinion of some Grollics on what started the war. You being able to read part of that book is invaluable to us. He’ll be bringing it to the e
lders of the Coven--you’re going to be famous in our world. The mortal who could read Grollic.”
We walked into the house, having to drag my meagre belongings due to being weak with laughter.
Sarah met us in the hall wearing an apron and a smile. “I’m cooking dinner. It’s going to be about an hour.”
“Th-Thanks,” I stuttered, suddenly very conscious of how homeless I actually was.
“Has Grace been rubbing off on you?” She pointed to the bags. “First time you stayed here, I thought you only had a backpack.”
“She got booted out of her house.” Grace put her arm around my shoulders. “Her foster parents are losers. Basically Rouge turns eighteen in a couple of weeks, and they don’t want her under their roof anymore.”
“They just kicked her out? Didn’t give her a place to live or even let her finish high school? And we call Grollics monsters!” Sarah clapped her hands. “You stay here for as long as you need.”
“I was thinking she could stay in the pool house,” Grace said. “You know, give her a bit of privacy.”
“Hmm…” Sarah nodded. “Let’s see what happens at the meeting with the elders. If there are no issues, then I don’t see why not.”
I needed to say something. “I really appreciate this, but–”
“But nothing,” Sarah said. “You need a place, we have the space.”
I stopped my meagre attempt to argue. She was right and I really wanted to stay.
“The boys have left.” Sarah checked her watch. “Maybe the two of you should get working as well. Caleb’s pulled some books and set them on the desk for you. He thought some of them might be helpful.”
I reached for Grace. “Can you not say anything to Michael yet?” I tapped the side of my head. “No sense in getting him worried.”
“Good idea, but you know he’s going to be ticked at me.” She grinned. “No worries, I can take it. Come on.”
I followed Grace into the living room and stretched to look over her shoulder at Caleb’s closed office door. My heart beat switched to an erratic pattern and I wiped my palms across the front of my jeans.
Without a hint of nervousness, Grace pushed open the door and strolled inside. She chattered away about something, but I had absolutely no clue what. My senses were too busy absorbing everything in front of me.
Caleb’s room was an understatement of the word office. An enticing aroma hit me before I could concentrate on the view. A hint of some kind of tobacco, old books, burning cedar, and musky vanilla infiltrated my nose. I couldn’t place the exact scent but boy, was it yummy…and relaxing…and sexy…and mysterious…and... How did Caleb get any work done with these smells in the air?
The oval room had gorgeous built-in bookcases you only saw in the movies. Between the cases, a large fireplace with wood burning and popping away. I couldn’t believe the amount of books. There were also bookcases which rolled around on brass bars in front of the built-in cases.
Directly across from the fireplace was a desk. Gorgeous. Probably older than Moses. It was made of oak with wonderful big grains and knots. On top of the desk lay a stack of books, probably fifteen but the pile looked small compared to all the books in the room. Two red leather ottoman chairs sat in front of the desk, a large antique chair behind it.
Grace plopped on one of the red leather chairs, her legs dangling over its arms. “Awesome, isn’t it?”
“Really nice. I can’t get over the smell.”
“Kind of everything and anything rolled into one?”
“Exactly! Is it some kind of Glade Plug-in or candle?”
Grace laughed. “No plug-in or special voodoo-thing. It’s Caleb.”
I had never been close enough to the guy to notice. “He smells like this? No wonder Sarah tossed her Siorghra at him.” If he actually smelled like this, maybe he wasn’t so bad.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Grace said with a bemused smile. “He’s hard, like he appears, but he does have a few soft spots.”
“It’s interesting in this room…” I glanced at my watch. “It feels like dusk, and it’s only three o’clock.”
“Caleb set the windows high for that effect. You can be here in the middle of the night or the middle of the day and it feels the same.”
“Sorta like a casino – they say it’s always bright inside so you never know the exact time!” I walked over to the desk and picked up a book. “What do you need me to do?”
“You sit in the black leather chair and start looking at books. Just browse through the ones on the desk and make a note if anything looks unique or seems similar to the Grollic book. I have no idea how you read that journal so do what you do. Whatever catches your eye or triggers something.”
I nodded but had no idea whatever it was that I did. I was useless to them but wasn’t about to admit that here in Caleb’s sacred study. It felt wrong sitting down in Caleb’s chair, but I swallowed my anxiety, determined to find something Michael could use. There were two piles of books set on the desk, a shorter one hidden behind the tall one.
The book in my hand dated back to the 1920s and had very small writing; a headache-maker. I put it aside. The next book had long paragraphs and no illustrations, boring. The third book’s cover caught my eye. It had a beautiful hand drawn girl in a flowing white dress by a forest's edge. About to turn to the first page, a pair of dark black and yellow eyes peering through the forest caught my eye.
The Red Riding Hood story, but their version. Old, like the journal, but this book was written in clear calligraphy, and definitely in English. I flipped to the first page and started to read:
A beautiful young angelic girl had been sent to learn the wrongs of mankind and learn angels were different. Too tempted by lust and sins, she found a handsome man and fell in love. Afraid, she hid him in a cottage deep inside a forest.
She dressed in white, her wings packed tight almost appearing as a cape behind her. She’d been warned by the local folk to avoid the woods after dark, but held no fear. She came upon a man who was sitting upon a fallen tree. His shoulder appeared wounded so she stopped to help him. After cleaning his wound, she offered him water and food. Assured he was alright, she headed back on her way.
Unknown to the girl, the man was not as he appeared. To most he presented himself as a man and his true being was a Grollic. As the forest darkened, the man became a beast and hungered after the girl’s delicious scent. It led him to a clearing in the forest where a small cottage stood. He crept inside as the scent was now familiar to him and begged to be sated.
He leapt onto the bed and attacked–only to realize after he’d killed a man with the woman’s scent all over him. The mistake angered him. He hid and waited for the maiden to return.
The maiden arrived at the cottage shortly thereafter. She walked into the room and approached the bed. Seeing the bloody lifeless body on the floor, she screamed and rushed to his side. Blood seeped into her dress and wings. As she cried, the killer leapt from behind the bed.
The girl stood, unafraid and faced him defiantly. She realized the beast was the man who’d she’d helped in the forest earlier.
The Grollic hesitated as he watched the maiden’s eyes turn from brown to blue. What he thought had been a cape, was actually her wings. She raced into the forest to hide. The Grollic, thinking she’d run in fear, licked his jowls in anticipation.
However, the girl surprised the beast and attacked first. Shocked, the Grollic turned back into human-form and they fought. He raped her when he gained the upper hand.
Blood gushed from a wound, she tried to cover herself and stop the bleeding. Devastated, she stared at the blood now on her hands. Her blood. Her lover killed. Everything gone. Revenge flowed through her veins. She slapped the Grollic-man, covering his mouth with her hand. Her blood on his tongue, the man swallowed and choked. He died as if poisoned.
With renewed strength and anger that seemed deep in her core, she followed the Grollic’s scent and found his pack. The girl
killed them all, one by one, pouring her blood into their mouths, or open wounds. She experimented with each death, learning more as each Grollic struggled against the poison.
Her life would never be as it was. She could not return to where she had come and everything here was shattered. Before long she realized a tiny being grew in side her belly. She vowed vengeance on every Grollic for atonement – even if it took an eternity to fulfill.
Finished I sat back in the chair. How the original story got turned into a fairytale was beyond me. Grabbing the pad of paper and a pen on the desk, I jotted down to reread the Grollic version and compare. Similar story, but two totally different views.
I glanced at Grace. She sat in the red chair reading with her head down, her hair concealing her face.
I cleared my throat and she looked up. “That’s a pretty gruesome story. Is this Red Riding Hood horror-story your version?”
“Our version? Does that journal tell it that differently?”
I shrugged. For some reason, I didn’t think she’d believe any or agree with the other version. With both version in my head, I probably had a better idea of what really happened than anyone and yet, I wasn’t so sure. “It’s sort of the same but just the way they saw it.”
“I never paid much attention to it. Michael and Caleb take it more seriously.” Grace shrugged. “The Grollics started it all.” She started reading again and didn’t look up.
End of that topic, I guess. Setting the history book aside, I picked up the next one and flipped through. It looked like some genealogy or family tree. I couldn’t make out many of the names except I noticed a name similar to Caleb’s with a blank line beside it. I started a “maybe” pile beside the Riding Hood book. The rest of the stack didn’t appear to have anything helpful I could use. The first book on the next pile had a fold on the corner of a page. Caleb’s and Michael’s names were handwritten on it, marked with some kind of seal.
“That’s our Coven; it’s like a family mark.” Grace stood beside me, making me jump.
I hadn’t noticed her get up. “Why are their names here and not yours?”