Wolfsbane

by Andrea Cremer

  But my appearance had stopped all conversation, leaving a heavy silence in its wake. Adne had furrowed her brow before shrugging, turning her attention back to her bowl of fresh fruit and cream. Silas kept tilting his head back and forth as if trying to figure out what exactly was different about me. Tess was kind enough to smile a greeting but not say anything. A grin kept sliding on and off Nev’s mouth as though he wanted to laugh, but knew better.

  It had taken less than five minutes of this for Bryn to stand up with a quick nod to Sabine. Both girls shuttled me out of the dining room and up to my bedroom. Bryn had been trying to amend the hack job I’d done on my locks ever since.

  Sabine clicked her tongue, moving to stand in front of me so she could get a better angle on Bryn’s work. “You’re cutting all wrong. It’s going to be uneven.”

  “Do you want to do this?” Bryn snapped.

  “Yes.” She grabbed for the scissors.

  “Wait a sec.” I straightened in the chair and Bryn had to jerk the scissors away to avoid impaling my neck. “Seriously, Sabine? You want to cut my hair?”

  I frowned at her, not sure if I trusted her to give me a haircut that was flattering.

  “It would be my pleasure, Calla. I always cut Cosette’s hair.” For a moment the skin around her eyes tightened, but in the next instant she smiled again.

  “Oh, she had adorable hair.” Bryn beamed. “You should let Sabine take over, Cal. I have no idea what I’m doing. I can style like a pro, but this cutting thing is out of my league.”

  I swallowed but nodded. If Sabine was going to be our ally, I had to let old animosities fall away.

  Bryn handed Sabine the scissors with a relieved sigh.

  There was the sound of a throat clearing behind us. We all turned toward the door.

  “Uh, hey.” Shay ruffled his hair, taking in the group of girls before him and looking like he might bolt.

  “Hi, Shay,” Bryn said, not quite hiding her giggle as she glanced back and forth between the two of us.

  Sabine nodded at him but quickly turned her attention back to my hair.

  “What’s going on?” He took a couple of steps into the room, still indecisive about how safe it was to be there.

  “We’re trying to fix Calla’s hair. She just hacked it off.” Bryn curled a few strands around her fingers. “What did you use, exactly?”

  “Pruning shears.” I was staring at the floor. I shouldn’t have left Shay this morning without talking to him first. Now everything felt awkward and I didn’t know how to fix it.

  “No wonder it looks so awful,” Sabine muttered.

  “I think it looks good,” Shay protested, inching toward us.

  Sabine barked a laugh. “You’d think she looked good if she had leprosy.”

  I blushed and Bryn giggled.

  Shay smiled sheepishly, clearing his throat again. “Cal, I was hoping we could talk.”

  I bit my lip and kept my eyes off his face. “Sure, but I’m a little busy right now.”

  “Yeah, yeah, of course. Well, I’ll be in my room.”

  “Okay.”

  He shoved his hands in his pockets, but at least he managed not to run from the room.

  Bryn began to laugh. “I think we scared him.”

  “It’s a tough room.” Sabine didn’t look up from her deft maneuvering of the scissors. “He’s probably a little thrown.”

  I had to fight to keep still in the chair. “Thrown by what?”

  “Being our new alpha. Ren’s out, he’s in. It’s a lot to swallow. He’s only been a wolf a few weeks; he’s not used to it like the rest of us.”

  “What?!” Bryn and I exclaimed in unison.

  “Calla, you can’t jerk around like that; I’ll either stab you or ruin your hair,” Sabine said, unfazed.

  I grabbed her wrist, but she continued to gaze calmly at me.

  “What are you talking about, Sabine?” I said slowly.

  The corners of her mouth turned up slightly, as if she were the only one aware of a hilarious, private joke. “You can’t be serious, Calla. Don’t you know?”

  I frowned and glanced at Bryn, whose bewildered expression was giving way to one of astonishment.

  Sabine’s smile broadened. “See, Bryn knows.”

  Bryn nodded. “You’re right—of course, you’re right. I can’t believe I didn’t realize . . .”

  She looked at me, guilt painting her cheeks rosy. “I just always thought it would be Ren.”

  “But . . . how?” I couldn’t believe I had to throw that pleading question at Sabine.

  “It’s simple, really.” Sabine shook my now limp fingers off her wrist and began shearing my locks once again. “We all know that alphas can’t be, well, promoted for lack of a better word. Alphas are born. Shay’s always been an alpha, but he wasn’t a wolf. When you made him one, it put him in the running.”

  Sabine was right. Alphas couldn’t be promoted. That was part of the reason the Keepers’ solution to their Guardian troubles in Vail would be such a mess. But I couldn’t make the connection to Shay’s role in all of this.

  Bryn smacked her palm against her forehead. “I’m an idiot.”

  “Well, I must be too,” I snapped. “Because I’m still not following.”

  “You’re not following because you are an alpha, Cal.” She offered me a sympathetic smile. “Shay’s always felt like an equal to you, right? He talks to you on your level, has never backed down if you challenged him?”

  I chewed on my lower lip. “I guess I thought that was just a human thing. That he didn’t know any better because he wasn’t one of us.”

  “Nope,” Sabine said. “It’s an alpha thing.”

  Bryn threaded her fingers through mine. “Ren always saw Shay as a competitor. Even he must have known.”

  “And he was right,” Sabine said, pulling strands of my hair between her fingers to measure their length. “You chose Shay.”

  “What?” This time the scissors did scratch my neck. “Ow!”

  “Don’t jerk like that.” Sabine tilted my head. “No blood. I’m still cutting.”

  “I didn’t choose Shay,” I said, fingering the tender skin. “I was saving his life.”

  “I didn’t mean the sacrifice,” Sabine said. “I meant last night.”

  I managed not to skewer myself on the scissors, but I gripped the edges of the chair.

  “Last night?” My whisper came out hoarse.

  “Sabine.” Bryn kicked her shin. “Don’t.”

  “I’m not judging,” Sabine said. “She’s within her rights. Shay’s an alpha. That means he’s a contender. Plus I’ve seen his shoulders. I’d let Shay take me for a ride if he offered.”

  “Sabine!” Bryn shrieked, staring at me in horror.

  But I was too shocked to be angry.

  “How do you—” My cheeks were on fire.

  “You smell like him.” Sabine smirked. “That’s the other thing. He smells good, doesn’t he? What does he taste like?”

  Bryn turned her back, but I was pretty sure it was to hide her grin because I could hear her laughing. “Stop, Sabine. Just stop.”

  “I took a shower!” I wanted to curl up into a ball and die.

  Sabine chuckled. “It doesn’t matter.”

  I cast a sidelong glance at Bryn. She was doing her best to twist her lips out of a silly smile.

  “It’s not like you smell bad, Cal,” she said, trying to make me feel better. “And Sabine is right. Shay has a nice smell. You know, like a garden.”

  “Oh my God.” I dropped my face into my hands.

  “Well, I’m not going to be able to do anything with your hair if you stay like that,” Sabine said, giggling.

  “Fine.” Squaring my shoulders, I sat up and took a deep breath. “Just finish it. And no more talking about last night.”

  “Really?”

  I bared my teeth at how disappointed Bryn sounded.

  “Calla, I’m trying to tell you, you probably did the
right thing.” Sabine moved to shape the layers near my face. “Ren made a mistake. If he wanted you so much, he should have come here. He should have been here to fight for you.”

  I stared at my hands, embarrassed by the hot stinging in my eyes.

  “Calla.” Glancing up, I met Sabine’s gaze in the mirror. “Don’t blame yourself for Ren. We all know you cared about him. He made his choice. We all made our choices.”

  I stared at her and then at my own reflection. Pale blond hair framed my face in soft layers that tapered from my cheekbones, falling just short of my shoulders. My lip quivered.

  “You made me look beautiful.”

  “I didn’t do much.” Sabine set the scissors aside and brushed stray hairs from my shoulders. “That’s just who you are.”

  I opened my mouth, but words didn’t emerge, only a choked sob.

  “God, don’t blubber, Calla. You’re supposed to be an alpha,” Sabine grumbled. But then she squeezed my shoulder and quietly left the room, letting Bryn wrap her arms around me while I continued to cry.

  Bryn left my side, coming back with a tissue.

  “So when did Sabine get a personality transplant?” I said. “I could have sworn she was just nice. Kind of.”

  “She is nice.” Bryn smiled sadly. “When you’re locked in a cell with someone for several days, you learn a lot about them. Sabine wasn’t ever the bitch we thought she was. She was just angry. Really angry. The things she had to . . .”

  She shuddered. “She has a lot to be angry about.”

  Bryn was right. Of all the young Guardians, Sabine’s life had been the worst, but somehow I was the one crying. I blew my nose, then looked at her, still sniffling. “You must think I’m pathetic.”

  “Hardly,” Bryn said. “We’ve all been through a lot. And if it had been me, I would have done the same thing.”

  “Thanks,” I said. “But I don’t know how you can say that. You don’t know what happened.”

  “Connor filled us in,” she said. “And Silas kept interrupting, trying to explain the history of all of it. He’s really weird, huh?”

  “Yeah, he is,” I said. “What did Connor tell you?”

  “Well, I guess he couldn’t tell us how you felt,” she said. “But it’s easy enough to imagine. He told us who Shay is and why he’s so important.”

  “Did he tell you about the alliance?” I asked, already nervous that any alliance between Guardians and Searchers was off the table.

  She nodded. “It sounds like they can teach us some pretty amazing things.”

  “Like what?” This was new. I tossed the crumpled tissue into the trash bin.

  “Combat, magic. Our real history.” She crossed the room, shaking her head. “It’s still hard to believe. All the lies.”

  “I know.”

  “For all their magic, I wish the Searchers could do something for Ansel.” She was at the window, staring at the rolling surface of the ocean, now a gleaming turquoise under the bright morning sun.

  “So do I.”

  “They’re treating him well,” she said, running her fingertips over the gauzy drapes. “He’s not in a cell. It’s just a small bedroom.”

  “You visited him?” Guilt bit into me much harder now. Why hadn’t I visited him yet?

  “Mason and I have been staying with him in shifts,” she said. When she turned around, it was like a shadow passed over her face. “But he won’t talk to me even when I’m there. Mason said it’s the same for him.”

  “He won’t?”

  She shook her head.

  “Maybe he just needs time,” I offered, though my stomach was twisting itself into a knot.

  “Maybe.” She shivered. “Calla, I’m afraid we’re going to lose him.”

  “I swear I won’t let the Searchers hurt him,” I said, a growl edging out with the words.

  “No.” She rubbed her arms. “It’s not them I’m worried about.”

  The painful twisting in my belly wasn’t a knot anymore. It was a knife.

  “I barely recognize him,” she whispered. “He’s drawn so far inside himself. I don’t think he wants to live. He’s been scratching his arms so much that they bleed.”

  “We’ll help him.” I worked past the lump in my throat. “We’ll help him get better.”

  She nodded, brushing tears from her cheeks.

  “Wanna go see him now?” she asked. “It’s time for me to switch with Mason anyway. He gets grumpy if he doesn’t eat like every two hours.”

  “I think that’s true of every teenage guy.” I smiled, taking her hand. “Let’s go see Ansel.”

  “So are you really not going to tell me anything about last night?” A wicked smiled flashed across her mouth.

  “No.” But I smiled too. My world had been spinning out of control. Having Bryn around made everything better.

  We’d only made it a few steps out of the room before Bryn stopped, turning to face me.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  “Nothing,” she said, taking my other hand in hers, squeezing my fingers tight. “It’s just . . . Sabine’s right.”

  “About what?” I tried to puzzle out the expression on Bryn’s face; she didn’t look upset, just curious.

  “About Shay,” she said. “He’s our new alpha, and he needs to be part of the pack.”

  “Oh.” I shifted my weight, uneasy. While I wasn’t against the thought of Shay as my alpha mate, I was still getting used to the idea.

  “You should go get him,” she said. “Come together—the alpha pair. It will show Ansel that things are changing. That he . . . that we have a future.”

  I nodded. Would that help Ansel, knowing that the world that had hurt him so much was no longer the one that ruled us? He’d always believed that love came first. Maybe seeing Shay and me together, by choice, would bring him around.

  “Okay.” I nodded, drawing my fingers from hers. “I’ll go find him.”

  “Great!” She threw her arms around me. I leaned into her, resting my cheek against her springy ringlets, remembering how much Bryn’s scent reflected her personality—sweet and spicy like a mix of toffee and cinnamon. The kind of smell that made you feel at home anywhere.

  She bounced down the hall and I went to Shay’s room. I knocked on the door. No answer.

  I knocked again. Maybe he’d fallen asleep.

  “He’s not in there.”

  I turned around to see Adne approaching.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Anika has him locked up with the Guides in Haldis tactical,” she said, jerking her head in the direction of the meeting room. “They’re strategizing the Tordis pickup.”

  “Why didn’t they tell me?” I frowned.

  “That’s part of the discussion,” she said. “With your brother’s questionable status, some of the teams have expressed concern about bringing Guardians along for the retrieval.”

  I didn’t know whether to be shocked, outraged, or both. “They’re planning the mission without us?”

  “They’re weighing their options,” she said, smiling briefly. “But that’s a good thing for us.”

  “What do you mean for us?” I asked, wary of the sudden flash of her eyes.

  “I need your help on another mission,” she said, fingering the skeans at her waist. “Under the table.”

  “What mission?” The hairs on the back of my neck were standing up.

  Adne’s mouth cut into a hard line. “We’re going to get my brother.”

  TWENTY-NINE

  FOR A MOMENT I THOUGHT the floor had dropped out from under me and I was falling.

  “Calla?” Adne grabbed my arms as I swayed on my feet, dizzy. “You okay?”

  I shook my head, trying to clear away the buzzing heat that flooded my skull.

  “Did you hear what I said?” she asked, guiding me along the hall.

  I nodded. “Your brother?”

  “Yes.”

  “You mean Ren?” It was hard to say his name. “
You can’t be serious. That would mean going back to Vail!”

  She put her hand over my mouth. “Not here.”

  I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep myself from asking more questions. Adne pulled me down the hall, past my room and a few others, finally unlocking a door and slipping inside.

  While the layout of the room was identical to mine, it couldn’t have looked more different. My bedroom had the blasé décor of most guest rooms, inoffensive but utterly devoid of character.

  Adne’s room was a riot of color: violet, black, and crimson on the walls, a crushed velvet throw spilling over the side of her bed. She trotted over to a radio, adding a blast of sound that made the bright walls swim before my eyes.

  “Do you like the Raveonettes?” She turned up the volume.

  I nodded, pulse pounding in rhythm with the ethereal voices that floated around me.

  “Sorry.” She flopped onto the bed. “I can’t afford for anyone to hear us. Not that I don’t usually play music this loud anyway.”

  “It’s fine.”

  “Have a seat,” she said, gesturing to the bed.

  I was too edgy to sit, but I hovered at the edge of the bed, playing with the fringes of the throw. “So Connor told you.”

  She shook her head, leaning over to reach beneath the mound of pillows at the top of the bed. “My father told me.”

  She pulled out an envelope, drawing a letter from inside it. “Connor just delivered the news.”

  “Monroe wrote you a letter?” I stared at the folded pages in her hands. There were several. How much had he told her? What secrets of the past had he spilled onto those pages?

  She laughed, blinking away tears. “Connor said my father knew I’d never let him corner me for a touchy-feely talk. I made a habit of avoiding those ever since Mom . . .”

  Her eyes wandered to the bed stand. Following her gaze, I saw a framed picture of a woman. She had copper blond hair and bright amber eyes. Her arms were around a beanpole of a girl wearing a foolish grin: a much younger Adne.

  Adne thumbed the edge of the pages. “Apparently she brought them together. Ren’s mom, I mean. Corrine. After she died, my dad hit rock bottom. My mom was the one who got him through it. Then I came along.”

  I watched her, not knowing what to say. She rolled onto her back, pressing the letter against her chest.