by Nicole Grane
“I thought it was a good number—symbolic.” he smiled slightly.
“We’d managed to wipe out most of the pack, or so we thought. Damen had always kept his strongest wolves with him. He retreated for a time and came back with greater numbers—much stronger werewolves than we could have imagined.”
Marcus got up and started pacing the room. His hand began rubbing the back of his head.
I knew that reaction. “What is it?”
“The wolves have an unusual ability . . . they can turn whenever they want.” His eyes met mine.
“WHAT?” I jumped to my feet. “You said he could only turn when there was a full moon!” I protested.
“I didn’t say that!” His voice raised in defense. “I said he wouldn’t necessarily be a werewolf; he could be in a human form.”
I couldn’t believe what he was saying. Damen could turn from a human to a werewolf at will . . . he could bite me, or kill me, anytime he wished?
“The full moon means nothing?” I asked, trying to remember all the stories I’d ever heard.
“The werewolves have also evolved. But they are still slaves to the moonlight.”
“He could have killed me earlier . . . ” My eyes wandered the room, not focusing on any one object.
I hadn’t even seen Marcus move toward me. He was holding me close now. I leaned into his chest, using his body for support—I felt as though my legs could give out at any moment.
I listened for his heart—still no beat. How can someone so real, so physically alive, have no heartbeat? I gripped him tighter.
“He kissed me,” my words came out softer than a whisper. I could feel Marcus's arms tensing up as they held me. “Why?”
“I can only guess. I’m not certain . . .” his voice trailed off, his thoughts, sounding far away. I didn’t press him. It really didn’t matter.
“He knows you’re with me, doesn’t he?” Somehow I knew the answer.
Marcus nodded.
“I think he could smell you on me at the restaurant,” I admitted. “His nose was all wrinkled up like I stunk.” I huffed.
“He thinks I stink?” Marcus said in disbelief.
“He knows things about me . . . the old me . . . doesn’t he? I could tell by the way he looked at me.”
Marcus's eyes were darkening again. “He will remember, yes.”
I stepped back a little, giving him space. I was trying my best not to be frightened by his expression.
I jumped when the phone rang. With all that was happening, I had forgotten about the outside world. I reached for the phone, took a breath, and said rather weakly, “Hello. Oh, hey Kim, what’s going on?” I looked at Marcus. His condition hadn’t improved. In fact, it had gotten worse. I could see the muscles in his jaw tightening.
“No, I can’t make it over right now . . . I’m getting ready to pack. I have to head up to Oregon in the morning, remember?”
Marcus looked at me sharply. He was hanging on every word I said. His face showing he was more anxious by the second.
“I’ll be gone a few days. I may have to head up to Seattle though,” I continued with my conversation—my eyes never leaving Marcus's.
“If I have to go all the way up to Seattle, I won’t be back for another week,” I explained. “They still need me to okay their set up. I’m just waiting on their call.”
“I will. I’ll talk to you soon. Bye.”
I hadn’t even hung up the receiver when Marcus began grilling me. “You didn’t tell me you were planning on leaving tomorrow.”
“I have to,” I began. “I have customers who are expecting me. I was supposed to leave today, remember, but I didn’t think I’d be able to after the fall I took?” I smiled sheepishly, still embarrassed that the reason I’d fallen off the side of a cliff was because I was pouting.
You’re not going anywhere without me. It’s not safe.”
I thought for a moment. “Why don’t you come with me,” I suggested, shrugging my shoulders a little.
“I should get you out of here . . . Damen will have a harder time finding you,” he thought aloud to himself.
“Do you have family here in town?” Marcus asked suddenly.
“Um, no. My mom used to live here. She died a few years ago,” I explained. “I don’t have any siblings.”
“Your father?” he prompted.
“He passed away some time ago . . . I was very young.” I got up and walked into the kitchen for a glass of water, and drank slowly. I didn’t like to talk about my dad to anyone. It was too painful.
“I’m sorry,” Marcus said from behind me as he rubbed my arms gently.
I turned to face him with a forced smile.
“So, you’ll come with me?” I asked again, desperate to change the subject.
“I’ll come with you,” he said as he lowered his lips to mine. His kiss was soft and sweet.
He pulled his head back a little. I could feel his eyes watching me—my eyes hadn’t opened yet. I was imagining myself in this moment forever.
Reluctantly, I opened my eyes to find his face curiously watching mine. “What are you thinking?”
“I was thinking about the first time I saw you,” he smiled affectionately. His eyes were far off as he recalled what seemed to be a fond memory—he smiled to himself. “You were in the garden practicing with Raymose,” He grinned.
“Raymose?” Why did I feel like I knew that name?
“Your mentor, and friend,” Marcus explained. “You were so swift with a sword—graceful; it was like watching a beautiful dance,” he continued, his eyes, still having that far-off look about them. “Raymose was enamored of you, like many others.” He winked. “You could have run him through and he wouldn’t have complained.”
“Was I very good?” I asked. The thought excited me.
“You were good in controlled settings,” Marcus admitted. “But, Raymose would never have taken the upper hand.”
I stared at him in disbelief. “He let me win?”
“Well, you were only practicing. Your father wouldn’t have allowed you to fight, at least not any formal battles. You were . . . protected.” Marcus smiled and bowed his head.
“That’s funny, Damen did that earlier.” I foiled my eyebrows, recalling the memory.
Marcus's smile was gone. “Did what?” Marcus hissed.
I jumped a little. I still wasn’t used to Marcus's hissing.
“He bowed when he met me. I thought it was . . . unusually polite,” I shrugged my shoulders as I took a banana from the counter and began peeling it.
Marcus's eyes were black again. His lips were pressed in a fine line. I could see his face hardening. “He bowed to you?” he nearly spit the word.
“Yes,” I squeaked, taking an unusually large bite.
“He has the nerve to bow to you, to kiss you?”
“Marcus, I don’t understand.” I mumbled, trying to swallow the obstruction in my mouth. “Why would him bowing offend you?”
“Damen was your personal protector!” He said angrily.
“My what?”
“Your father wanted you protected at all times. Damen was the strongest werewolf he’d seen . . . aside from Aidric. He knew that if Damen were in charge of your safety, you’d never be in danger. He didn’t count on the beast falling in love with you, and insulting your honor. He has no right to bow to you.” The thought clearly repulsed him.
“He was in love with me?” I gasped. It was like a light clicked on in my head.
Marcus looked at me with alarm.
My eyes darted around as my brain worked fast to recall the memories of my dreams. They flashed from the beautiful room where Marcus and I were holding each other—to the room where I was looking out a window, watching Marcus ride off to battle the werewolves, to the street where I was running toward the battle. Then to me, standing before Damen, before he attacked. I looked . . . frightened.
I gasped in realization. “The images . . . they not mine!” I nearly
shouted. “They’re Damen’s!”
“What do you mean?” his voice was shaky.
“Not all of them, anyway . . . I thought they were my visions last night . . . but they’re not.
Marcus was trying to understand what I was saying.
“In my dreams,” I explained. “He’s watching us. He saw us in our room!” I felt strangely embarrassed. “He saw me naked!” I cringed as I covered my chest with my arms. My face felt instantly flushed. I felt violated at the very idea.
Marcus looked murderous. “How could he have been so close without my knowing it?” he snapped.
“You were . . . otherwise . . . distracted?” I suggested, blushing a rare shade of crimson.
Marcus couldn’t help the corner of his mouth curling up. “Perhaps,” he conceded.
“He watched me as I watched you ride away,” I continued slowly. “He watched me run down the street calling for you . . .” I stopped talking as I considered what I was about to say. My mind worked silently as I debated.
“You’re not telling me something.” Marcus's tone was accusing, sharp.
I backed away from him, allowing a good three feet between us. “I’d rather not say.” I put my hands out, motioning him to stay where he was.
Marcus closed the gap between us before I could blink. “Phoebe!” he demanded.
“I’m sorry. I can’t. I don’t trust these memories. I don’t understand them.” I insisted.
He reached out and touched my face softly. “Let me help you,” his eyes were softer now, but still dangerously insistent. He was trying to work his magic of persuasion.
“I don’t want to hurt you.” I hid my face in my hands, breaking his stare.
“Is it that bad?” his voice was growing rougher.
“I think it is,” I ducked away from him and walked out into the living room. If what I believed was true, the knowledge would crush him.
“Phoebe. You don’t have to hide anything from me.” His voice was assuring, but not enough.
“Please Marcus, let this go . . . it was so long ago.” My hands were clasped together. I was begging him.
His eyes narrowed as he deliberated. I could see that I wasn’t going to win.
I sighed. “I promise, as soon as I figure this out, I’ll tell you . . . good or bad.”
My eyes followed his as he looked to the window—it was already dusk. He sighed as his resolve broke. “How do you feel about flying?” he asked with a smirk, still gazing out the window.
“Flying?” I was surprised by the question. “I don’t mind it . . . why?”
“Maybe you should change your clothes; you may want a coat,” he suggested.
“Alright?” I gave him a quizzical look as I walked toward my bedroom. I could hear him chuckling lightly from the living room.
I quickly changed into jeans and a long shirt. I grabbed a jacket from the closet, put my shoes on, and returned to Marcus feeling anxious. “So, you have an airplane or something?”
“Or something,” he grinned as he extended his hand to me. I took it cautiously.
Chapter 10: Flying
I could feel a cool breeze kiss my face as we stepped out into the night. I snuggled into Marcus's side.
“Ready?”
“Ready for what?” I asked.
I felt a sudden pull at my waist—Marcus's arm was around it, holding me tight. My feet weren’t touching the ground any longer. We were flying!
“Ahahh!” I grabbed onto his body and tried to bury my face in his chest as he shot like a rocket through the air. Marcus was shaking with laughter.
“Phoebe,” he laughed heartedly. “It’s alright.” He pulled me upright so that I was standing. I tapped my toes around . . . I couldn’t feel the earth below me. I peeked out from the safety of his shirt to see that we were well above the redwood trees—suspended in air!
I screamed as I scrambled to twine my legs around his body as if I were climbing a tree.
“You’re still a scaredy cat!”
“How are you doing this?” My voice was muffled through his shirt.
“I can fly, as you so calmly pointed out last night,” he teased. A hint of sarcasm coated his words.
“Yeah, but I didn’t mean fly, fly!” I took a quick peek and buried my face once again. “Are you magic?”
“Magic?” he half-laughed. “I’m a vampire.”
“But you’re flying!”
“I can also swim without breathing; jump from any height and land as softly as a feather; climb any object effortlessly; and move at such speeds that if I didn’t want you to see me, you wouldn’t. It’s part of my immortal make up.” I could hear him grinning. “Phoebe, I won’t let you fall. I promise.”
My death-like grip became tighter. I could feel his cool hands on my cheeks. His fingers gently lifted my chin up, exposing the petrified expression that was on my face. I could feel his stare, though my eyes were glued tight.
His lips surprised me as they moved over mine. I forgot myself for a moment and opened my eyes. His skin gave off its own illumination in the moonlight.
“Watch,” he said, as he pointed to the mountaintop beyond. The moon was just beginning to peek over. It looked so big, so bright, so close . . . I found myself reaching out as if I could touch it.
“Shall I catch it for you?” he whispered across my ear.
I smiled. “I believe you could.”
Without thinking, I rested my chin on his shoulder, watching the moonrise. He didn’t seem to mind that I was still twined around him.
“This is amazing. How long can you do this?” I asked, wondering if we might fall out of the sky at any moment.
“As long as you like.”
I sighed contently.
The night air smelled clean and fresh; we were surrounded by millions of stars, speckling the sky like diamonds. He wrapped his arms around me tighter, trying to shield me as a cold wind embraced us.
“What are you thinking?” He spoke quietly.
“That you’re amazing—I told you you’re a super hero.”
“Ahh, if only that were true,” he mused. “It’s a good thing I am immortal; your grip would squeeze the life out of anyone!” he joked.
“Sorry, but I’m not letting go for anything!”
“I’m counting on that.” There was an odd tone to his words. Was he counting on my fear of heights to bind me closer to him at this moment, or was there something more? Was Marcus afraid that I might one day let him go? Impossible!
“You never could fly well,” he teased, interrupting my reverie.
“I could fly?” I looked at him in disbelief.
“You wouldn’t go higher than a barn,” he laughed. “Even for a vampire, you were always fairly cautious.” “I never had to worry, except when you felt the need to join the hunt.” I could hear the annoyance in his voice.
“I was a hunter too?” I sounded way too excited for Marcus's liking.
“Yes,” he said flatly.
“Was I any good?” I wasted no time. To hear that my former life was fraught with excitement, although this one hadn’t been exactly dull lately, was thrilling.
“You were fair when it came to one on one; you were light and fast on your feet.” he admitted.
“So, did we fight together?” I was beaming at the thought.
“A few times . . .” he admitted hesitantly. Marcus had a look of disapproval on his face. “I couldn’t stand to see you in danger. I begged your father to reconsider allowing you to be a hunter,” his jaw tightened.
“What did he say?” I nearly demanded; my tone became defensive.
“He said his daughter’s place was fighting for the good of the coven. He wouldn’t deny you any longer because he was worried about your safety.”
“Well, he was right,” I said firmly. “I wouldn’t want to be told what I could or couldn’t do; especially as an adult. That should have been my decision anyway.”
“Phoebe, it’s a different life. You do as
you’re told. You would have obeyed your father or you would have been punished. Your actions affect the entire safety of the coven.” he spoke seriously.
I tried to let the words sink in. It was still so unimaginable, even here, suspended in mid-air high above the trees. I still couldn’t envision a world with such creatures.
“I thought you said my father wouldn’t allow me to fight?”
“At first he didn’t. Not hunts anyway. Something happened. You were so determined to fight. You had a personal hate for the werewolves that we never understood. Your father had no choice. You were sneaking out on your own, slaying as many of them as you could.” I could hear the concern in his voice. Even now, after hundreds of years, I knew Marcus hadn’t wanted Phoebe to fight.
“Your father agreed to allow you to be a hunter under the condition you never went alone. Come,” he said suddenly as he wrapped his arm tight around my waist.
We glided through the air once again. If it weren’t for my fearful periodic squeals I made when I decided to sneak a peek, we would have been virtually silent. He moved stealth-like through the night. I tried to imagine how many vampires had flown over my house unknown over the years. The thought was chilling. We landed in my back yard, minutes later.
“You can open your eyes now,” he teased.
I held onto his body tightly as I tapped my foot around on the earth below me.
“Oh come now, it was a little fun wasn’t it?” he asked playfully as he tried to unlock my arms.
“A little,” I admitted, trying to suppress a smile.
“It’s getting late. Why don’t I take you to dinner?”
“Mexican sounds good,” I admitted. “But I’m paying. It’s not like you’ll be eating.”
“Oh no. Ladies do not pay.” He looked like I’d just insulted him.
I grabbed my purse. “Fine, but I’ll provide the transportation this time!” I held up my car keys, jingling them in the air.
The corners of his mouth were turned up. “Agreed.”
I reached for the doorknob and paused. “Marcus?” I turned slightly, whispering as if someone might hear. “Do you have money?”
He laughed hard. “I think I have enough.”
I pursed my lips. “Well, how would I know?” I spoke over his laughter. “Just . . . get in the car!”