Phantoms of the Otherworld (In Spiritu Et Veritate)

by Reed, Zoe

  “Everyone’s out. It’s just me and Camille.” Lacey settled on the couch next to him and rubbed his back tenderly. “How’d you fight them off?”

  He covered his face, but not before I could see the blood drain from it again. “I couldn’t. They could have killed me in an instant if they wanted.” I was waiting for somebody to ask why they hadn’t killed him, but we all stayed silent until he continued. “It was like they were trying to catch me.”

  Each of us looked completely dumfounded, and even more so at a loss for words. Camille’s expression was the first to turn to anger, her protective nature flaring. “We need to go back and investigate. Maybe the vampires will still be around. Abby, you drove right? You can go home now.”

  “I’m going with you.” Even though Abby said it somewhat quietly, there was an edge and command in her tone.

  “That’s not a good idea.” Camille appeared to remain calm, but it was obvious by the firm set of her mouth that she was already growing impatient.

  Still, Abby just stood her ground. “I wasn’t asking.”

  “You don’t belong here.” The finality rang in Camille’s voice as she turned for the door. I had to agree with her, this could be dangerous for Abby, and there was no reason to get her involved if she didn’t need to be.

  I was decided, and about to follow Camille to the door when Abby took a step forward. “The Supernatural Council says I do.”

  That didn’t mean much of anything to me, but Camille froze in her tracks, every muscle in her body tense while she turned around to face Abby. “What’s your last name?”

  “Johnson.”

  Apparently the name registered, and Camille took a deep breath, speaking through clenched teeth. “You are going to tell me everything you know. Now.”

  Confusion deepened, twisting my haggard brain painfully as I watched the spectacle. I half expected Abby to buckle in fear under Camille’s intense and angry glare and bolt out the door, especially since Camille hovered a few inches taller than her.

  Instead, Abby shoved her hands in her pockets and gave a defeated sigh. “In the past few months there have been increased vampire attacks in the area, but they’ve never been so close to the school. There’s a teacher, a psychic. She told me that we have a vampire ally, but a werewolf is in danger. I’m under my father’s orders to protect that werewolf.”

  “Clearly you didn’t do a very good job,” Camille spat, pointing at Nathan. I didn’t understand the sudden hostility, I felt like it was about more than just Nathan. I’d only ever seen Camille so protective when it came to me, and I couldn’t help but feel like she was angry that Abby and I had been together that night.

  Abby’s face set in a bitter scowl that was enough to make me cringe. “There’s a whole lot of you, and only one of me. I can’t protect you all at the same time.”

  “Oh yeah, and I’m sure you were doing a whole lot of protecting at The Orchid.” As Camille said that her nostrils flared, and I knew she could smell me on Abby. “We’re not your responsibility, and we don’t need protection, but a little heads up would have been nice.” Camille’s voice was getting louder, and Abby’s face twisted with anger for a brief second before going blank.

  “But you’re not my responsibility,” she smirked.

  The cold calm of Abby’s exterior set Camille off. She yelled, and as she took an angry step forward I tensed, preparing to stop fists from flying. “What’s your fucking problem?”

  “My problem!” Abby shouted back, and took a step forward to meet Camille’s aggressive advance. “What’s your problem? The second I walk in here you can’t stand me. Why don’t you tell me what the fucking problem is.”

  “Shut up! Both of you just shut up!” I had never yelled so loud in my life, and from the shocked looks on both Abby and Camille’s faces, they didn’t think I could raise my voice so much either. Nor had I ever been so confused. How did the conversation spiral out of control so quickly? It didn’t matter what anybody’s problem was, we all had a common enemy, and we had to figure it out before someone else got hurt. “Now sit.”

  Both Camille and Abby did as they were commanded, sitting on the floor with their backs against the couch, and out of the corner of my eye I could see Lacey holding back amused laughter. Abby opened her mouth as she turned her head to glare at Camille, as if Camille had continued the argument in her mind so only Abby would hear.

  “Camille, knock it off,” I growled, making my aggravation clear by pointing a scolding finger at her. “Would one of you mind telling me what’s going on?” Neither of them looked up from the same spot on the floor, so I sighed impatiently. “Okay, Abby. Explain.”

  Abby’s eyes met mine, then immediately returned to the floor, and it was clear she was ashamed at how she’d acted. “My dad is the director of The Supernatural Council, I’m just a foot soldier. We don’t know what the vampires want, and we didn’t think anyone would be in trouble so soon.” At the end of her explanation she looked at Camille, as if to explain and apologize.

  “The Supernatural Council?” I folded my arms across my chest, not ready to let either of them off the hook just yet.

  “A group of other supernaturals that monitor the goings on of our world,” Lacey answered, stepping forward. “They do their own thing keeping other beings under control and out of the public eye, like the police. We don’t associate with them often.”

  “Except for when one of us is in danger,” Camille added quietly.

  I held back a smirk as I thought about how cute Camille was when she was pouting. Then realizing that Abby could hear the totally out of place thought, I cleared my throat awkwardly. “But nobody knows anything about what’s going on?”

  “No, not yet,” Abby admitted, giving a despondent sigh.

  “Can I get some water?” Nathan asked, timidly interrupting, and Lacey nodded and left to the kitchen.

  “Nathan, did they say anything useful?” I asked.

  He closed his eyes thoughtfully for a few moments, and then shook his head. “No, they didn’t really say anything at all.” Lacey came back with a glass of water, and he smiled appreciatively before gulping it down. “Only one vampire is an even match for a werewolf. There were two, and they knew what they were doing. If they didn’t smell so god-awful they would’ve caught me completely off guard.”

  Abby stood up, impatiently fiddling with the car keys in her jacket pocket. “I should go. My father needs to know what’s happened.”

  I glanced around to see if anyone else had something to say before Abby left, or if perhaps Camille wanted to get into another shouting match. When no one looked concerned I nodded. “I’ll walk you out.” As I turned to take Abby back out to her car I saw Camille’s head shoot up, and I knew she was staring after us.

  When we reached Abby’s sedan, and before getting in, she turned to face me and leaned back against the door. “Look, I’m really sorry about that.”

  “I always knew Camille had a temper, but I didn’t expect you to have such a short fuse,” I teased, garnering a small laugh from her. “Why didn’t you tell me about this Supernatural Council stuff?” I asked, nervously putting my hands in my pockets. I couldn’t help but feel like people kept leaving me out of things, not telling me stuff I felt like I should know. I was a part of this world now, and it was hard enough adjusting to it without having secrets kept from me.

  Abby shrugged, and gave an apologetic half-smile to my thoughts. “I was under strict orders to keep this under control. That means not sending the werewolves into a panic.” I just nodded, not really sure what to say. “I’ll see you at school tomorrow?”

  It was a question, unsure and timid. I assumed it was code for making sure I wasn’t upset about her fight with Camille. “Yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow. Drive safe.”

  I watched as Abby’s car disappeared in the trees before turning and going back into the house. Everyone had dispersed, and through the silence I could hear someone moving around in the kitchen. It was Camille
, various kitchen utensils and ingredients spread out on the counter.

  “Hey,” I said softly as I sat down on a stool at the bar. Camille looked up to give me an apprehensive greeting-nod, looking entirely unhappy, and maybe even mildly pissed. “Where’s Nathan?”

  “Lacey took him up to his room so he can get some sleep,” she answered flatly, measuring some salt and putting it into a bowl in front of her. “She’ll talk to Eli when he gets home and let him know what happened.”

  I nodded understandingly, and it was followed by a minute of tense silence. The way Camille was acting, I felt like I’d been caught doing something wrong. Even though my time with Abby had been innocent, and Camille was so unclear on where she and I stood that it was as though we weren’t even together, I still felt like I had to explain myself. “We were just hanging out, you know.”

  It was silent for another minute, and I wasn’t sure if Camille understood what I’d meant by ‘we’. “Okay,” she said shortly.

  I sighed, wondering what I could do to get her attention. What I could do to get her to forgive me. Wouldn’t the prospect of another girl in my life be enough for her to give me some sign, even if it was just telling me to wait for her to heal? “You know how sorry I am, right?” Then I added in the sincerest voice I could, “I’m so sorry.”

  She went frigid, and without glancing up or even moving replied just as tersely as before, “Okay.”

  “Camille, what do you want from me?” I asked desperately. A painful spur lodged in my chest at her emotional distance, but I couldn’t go any longer being so confused all the time. She obviously didn’t want an apology, but I didn’t know what else to give.

  “Just,” she started angrily, and paused. Then, turning to face me, whispered in a voice as desperate as mine, “Please, just stop.”

  “Stop?” I repeated. Even though I was somewhat bewildered, my heart dropped. The finality in her voice sounded like an end.

  “Yes,” she said in exasperation. “Stop trying to make it okay. Okay? You can’t just,” she paused again, whether from anger or anguish I couldn’t be sure, but her eyes welled with tears like this was hard for her to say. “You can’t make me feel better about it.”

  I felt a pained wetness set in my own sinuses, but I forced it back. I don’t know if I was trying to maintain some dignity, or if I just didn’t want Camille to know how much that hurt, but I definitely didn’t want her to see me cry. “Ever?” This was it. It was over.

  Her deep brown eyes met mine for a brief moment before turning to the floor. “Probably not,” she said, so soft it was barely audible.

  “Well,” I paused, composing myself because I felt a lump forming in my throat. She would never forgive me for giving in to that crazed werewolf’s demands, for breaking her heart even though I never meant it. I knew how she would have responded to him, even if her family were being threatened. She would’ve told him to go to hell. I’d been scared and alone, a human incapable of defending myself, but it wasn’t enough of an excuse for her. She expected the same courage from me, and I’d let her down.

  There was so much pain in my chest that I wanted to yell. I wanted to break down and shake her and beg to know why she couldn’t let it go. But she’d asked me to stop trying to make it okay. Even more than I wanted her to forgive me, I wanted to stop hurting her. “Can’t we be friends?” I finally asked in complete defeat. I was giving in, because even though I wanted so much more than that from her, I’d take it if it were all she’d give me. I’d take it because she said ‘probably’ and not ‘definitely.’

  “I’m trying, Kyla,” she breathed, holding out her hands like she was begging me to make it easier on her. But I didn’t know how to make it easier on either of us. “I’m trying really hard. I just need time, okay? I need you to stop trying to bring it up.”

  “You never want to talk about it?” I asked, praying that if I agreed to this then she’d eventually forgive me and bring it up on her own. She shook her head. “Okay,” I said, still trying to convince myself I’d comply with whatever she wanted, because she knew better than anyone what she needed, even if what she needed wasn’t me. “What are you making?” I asked, swallowing past the despairing lump that finally lodged in my throat and taking a deep breath past the icy brokenness in my chest.

  She turned to glance over all the ingredients before looking me in the eyes and trying to give a smile. “Cookies.”

  “You do realize it’s almost midnight?” I said, trying to make my tone light even though it hardly sounded anything but heartbroken.

  At my doleful expression she watched me for a second, scanning my face with a searching concern. Then she gave an indifferent shrug, her voice as playfully sarcastic as our moods would allow. “I do what I want.”

  “Can I help?” Even if being with Camille right now was agonizing, at least setting my mind to something would keep me from thinking too much about it. Being alone would hurt even worse.

  With a nod from Camille I began to help pass and pour ingredients. Even though it was somewhat silent, it felt almost like old times, minus the heartbreak. She seemed less tense, and we worked together fairly easily and comfortably. Sometimes I felt I knew what she was thinking, I could sense the ingredients she wanted me to pass her. Could feel her smile thanks. It was like the first time we’d done yoga with Wesley. When our knees finally touched and I felt connected. Something bonded us deeper than words or thoughts. Or even love. For some reason the word ‘blood’ came to mind. Our connection ran deep as blood.

  Abby stood at the wooden door of her father’s office Friday afternoon, highly reluctant to knock. The Supernatural Council had set up a place in a business complex under the guise of a law firm. It wasn’t too far of a stretch, as Abby could vaguely picture a couple of the members that she knew had gone to law school. Her reluctance to knock wasn’t due to the fact that she didn’t like her father. On the contrary, she loved him, even if she didn’t agree with his politics. He also loved her, and she knew it, though years of being a busy man with little time to practice being an actual dad had left him with a failure to express those kind of emotions. The reluctance stemmed from the fact that even though they loved each other, they fought. Constantly.

  Her dad was a large, rather muscular man, and it was from him she got her bright hazel eyes. His hair was jet black, and matched the color of his favorite business suit perfectly. Abby never understood why he dressed so formally to the office when all the other board members, while they didn’t come in ratty clothes, dressed fairly comfortably. His looks didn’t make her nervous, and she was never intimidated by her father’s magic or the power she could feel emanating from him. However, she did find the numerous occult artifacts that hung on the walls and sat on the shelves to be a bit creepy.

  Abby lightly knocked on the door before pushing her way inside. When she entered her father was intently staring at his computer screen, and held up his index finger to tell her to wait one second. She sat slouched in the armchair across from his desk until he swiveled his chair in her direction and removed his attention from the computer.

  “Abby,” he smiled, the extent of his affection. “How was school?”

  She shrugged apathetically. “It was good. But I’ve needed to talk to you since last night. Something happened near The Orchid.” No need to waste time with small talk, it would only lead to meaningless conversation and awkward pauses.

  “Go on.” He leaned back in his chair to get more comfortable while he listened.

  “One of the Pack werewolves was out for a run last night. He ended up near The Orchid and was attacked by two vampires. Well, kind of attacked. He said they tried to catch him. Luckily, we found him and he walked away with only a few bruises.” Abby waited patiently while he digested the information, but one of his thoughts caught her attention. “We need to keep the werewolves posted on any new information. It would be irresponsible to keep them out of the loop.”

  His face crinkled into a scowl. He knew A
bby couldn’t help hearing his thoughts, but he still despised it. She figured that was the reason her parents had gotten divorced. Her mom was a telepath too, and her dad hated it. “No. They’re animals, Abby, irrational and violent. The last thing we need is to worry about what actions the Pack might take.”

  Abby sighed, her sense of urgency instantly turning to pure aggravation. They couldn’t have a single conversation without arguing about something like this. Oh well, why change the habit now? “You’ve been the director for almost thirty years now. How are you so blind to the things that have changed? The werewolves aren’t savage, and they have a new Alpha.”

  “I don’t care who their Alpha is. They refuse to cooperate with this council, and so separation is what they’ll get.” His face was getting red, as Abby had clearly offended him.

  “They refuse to cooperate because you treat them like expendable errand boys. They’re human too, just like you and me.” She glared at him. If not for years of arguments numbing her to his temper, she’d be slinking back in fear of the large man.

  She could see he wasn’t going to change his mind. He had no reason to listen to an immature high school student. With an overly exaggerated sigh she turned and walked out of the room.

  “You’re not to involve them, Abby,” her father growled after her.

  She just waved an irritated hand at him and closed the door behind her, taking deep breaths to slow her temper. Most people complimented her on her countenance and thought she was the sweetest person they’d ever met, until they saw what a short fuse she had, courtesy of her dad.

  “I thought I heard yelling.” A short, light-brown haired woman smiled at Abby fondly, her grin lighting up her dark blue eyes.

  “Hey, Mom.” Abby smiled back and followed her mom to the front of the office.

  The woman sat in a chair at the reception counter and turned to Abby, who’d settled on the edge of the desk. “What could you two possibly be fighting about now?”

  “He’s a stubborn asshole,” Abby sighed, and picked up a rubber band to busy her hands with something.