“It’s hollow.” Helena concluded, knocking on the plank in the middle. Shoving the flashlight into her pocket, she slid her fingers along the gap between the planks. In an instant, a shot of adrenaline rushed through her veins. Her fingers slipped through a crevasse. Straightaway, she pushed it up, her curiosity peaking. Beams of lush light shot up and into the dark room. Swallowing hard, Helena saw the edge of a staircase in front of her, just below the hatch cover.
“I’m going down there,” she spoke, her voice riddled with tension. “You can stay here if you like.”
“That’s out of the question, dear,” Susan declared, a small smile forming on her face. “I’ll be right behind you.”
“Fair enough,” Helena muttered, turning as she squatted, looking up at her friend. Gripping the rough edges of the hatch, she lowered her leg. The wood squealed in protest as her foot touched it.
“Be careful,” Susan advised, the light from below illuminating her slender face.
Averting her gaze from Susan, Helena glanced down. Her pink pajamas were almost invisible. It was as if she was lowering herself into a sea of bright white that drowned out every other color. Helena yelped at the sensation of a tiny splinter piercing her skin. At the sight of a brownish surface, her heart fluttered in her chest.
“I can see the bottom,” she announced, her voice echoing through the walls of the room. Releasing the ladder, she jumped off. Waves of relief washed over her, the moment she felt solid ground beneath her feet. “I’m okay. You can come now.”
Helena had yet to finish her phrase, when she discovered the origin of that light. A massive, thick book lay in the middle of the room, hovering over a crystal-white pillar. With that discovery, however, came a feeling of indecision. No one had mentioned the existence of this chamber or that book. Her parents had been guarding that secret very well. Still, Helena had gone too far to turn back. She owed it to herself to see what that book contained. She trotted off, the sound of squealing wood filling her ears. Halting inches from it, she reached forward. The cover read:
“Patrick Dunston
Principles Of Witchcraft”
With her heart thumping in her chest, Helena flipped the cover over. For some reason she couldn’t fathom, the paper didn’t look yellowish or worn-out. It felt fine on her fingertips, like it belonged to a book that had just been released.
“To my children and their children after them.
Do not let small-minded people distract you from our cause. We mean to show the world an alternative to the scourge of oppressive religion. We need to prove to them that believing in themselves is the first step towards personal completion. The plague of our time is not tuberculosis, but the priests’ constant attempt to depict us as the source of all evil.
Use your powers for the betterment of mankind.”
“Well said,” Susan’s voice tore the silence. “Have you ever been down here?”
“No,” Helena said on a breath. “I didn’t even know this place existed.”
The next page contained much more than just an introductory note. On the contrary, it was full of her ancestor’s words from top to bottom.
FAITH
“Unlike practitioners who don’t come from a witch bloodline, our powers are usable to their full extent from the day we delve into witchcraft. Common people must struggle for years and years to master their powers. Our blood allows us to save ourselves from that hardship.
Be advised, my children. We may be powerful, but all that power stems from a fundamental principle. Without faith in ourselves, failure is guaranteed. One has to believe that they shall succeed, otherwise they risk injury or even death.”
“I knew it!” Susan exclaimed, cocking her head. “I knew you didn’t have to turn twenty-two for your powers to peak.”
“Oh, God…” Helena sighed in disappointment, reading that same sentence over and over again. Her heart broke to a million pieces. Still staring at the paper, she felt tears welling up in her eyes. She had been deceived by the two people she cared about the most: Her own flesh and blood.
Her ancestor went on to describe methods that his descendants could use, in order to achieve that crucial feeling of self-confidence. Helena couldn’t care less, though. She needed answers, and she couldn’t get them by reading his advice. So, she flipped more and more pages in haste, searching for anything else that could come in handy. Halfway through the book, something caught her eye. It was a separate section, titled: “Prophecies”
Amazingly enough, Patrick had separated them by time periods. She skipped the periods that didn’t concern her, desperate to find out if he could indeed predict the future.
“In spite of my advice, my ancestor will not live up to my legacy. Fifteen years after the dawn of the new millennium, he shall mistreat two creatures, blessed with nature’s gift of shedding their human skin. In their attempt to steal from him, they shall fall straight into his trap. He shall use a dark spell to eliminate them.”
“I think reading this was a bad idea,” Susan murmured, crossing her arms over her chest. “Is that true? Your father’s actually killed two shifters?”
“Yeah,” Helena affirmed, pursing her lips as she read on.
“The slaying of those creatures shall be the beginning of his downfall. His reckless hate shall lead him to terrible mistakes. Forming unholy alliances with the enemy shall not spare him from his doom. In the end, he shall die a gruesome death in the hands of his so-called ‘ally’ on the new moon of March, four years to the day after his crime.”
“No…” Helena whispered, unable to believe her eyes. “It can’t be. March is in ten days, for God’s sake! When’s that new moon he’s talking about?”
“Hold on,” Susan urged, pulling her cell phone out of her pocket. The few seconds she took to go online seemed to last an eternity. Helena shut her eyes and cupped her forehead, ugly thoughts running through her mind. “I’m very sorry,” her friend spoke in a wobbly voice. “It’s on March 3rd.”
Helena’s eyes snapped open, “That’s five days from now.”
Her initial idea was to dismiss that book as a product of a warlock’s twisted mind. He, along with his entire family was being hunted down without mercy and wrote just about anything to pass the time. Yet, she couldn’t ignore the evidence. Patrick had predicted the murder of two shifters, along with the fact that Frank had allied himself with Michael, or at least he had attempted to.
Squeezing more tears out of her eyes, she hung her head in despair. The man who had been so kind to her was destined to avenge his fallen comrades. He was meant to put aside what the two of them had, in order to dispense justice. Helena burst into loud, wailing sobs, the thought of Michael ripping her father apart sent her heart into a downward spiral.
“Shhhhh…” Susan hissed, pulling her in for a side hug. “It’s all going to be all right.”
“He’ll kill him, Susan,” Helena sniffled, her tears moistening her friend’s top. “How’s it going to be all right?”
“You will stop him,” Susan put some force in her voice. “We will stop him.”
She would like nothing more than to believe that. Despite his lies, Frank was still her father. Still, drowning in despair, Helena could not muster the strength to believe that she could prevent Michael from ending her father’s life. Why? Because she would not have to go up against him alone. It was certain that he would have the support of his pack. They would sacrifice their lives to get their revenge. All Helena could do was follow her father to the bitter end…
Chapter Fourteen
Michael
As one would expect, Michael was in a festive mood the following day. He went to work, eager to preoccupy himself with his passion. However, once he arrived at the workshop, he realized that he didn’t have much to do. Three of his fellow members had disassembled an old Suzuki, and another three were working on the motorcycle that he and Ray had restored. Predictably, something had gone wrong with its engine. At first, he considered having a cup
of coffee with Bruce. It had been a while since they’d had a chance to catch up. He also needed more information about the impending heist.
Nevertheless, the sun shining down into Mercer gave him a change of heart. There were no clouds in the sky whatsoever. Michael could do something much better on such a beautiful day than stay in and have the millionth conversation with his Alpha. The view of the Hudson River stormed into his mind, helping him come to a decision. Better still, he wouldn’t have to wait another three days to see Helena. For the first time, he had an opportunity to spend a day with her. And the best part was that he was able to do that away from any prying eyes.
His heart filled with hope; Michael set out from Mercer. His Harley roared onto the interstate, making his whole body vibrate. The tight bends in the mountain used to give him a great rush, because of the narrowness of the roads and their poor visibility. Yet, doing more than forty miles an hour in the Catskills was suicidal. The bike could veer off the cliff and send him plunging down the hillside.
The vast, open road was where that motorcycle came in to its own. He could allow it to reach its top speed, but Michael wasn’t interested in that. More often than not, pushing it to its limit made it grind underneath him, risking a massive breakdown. What he wanted was to witness the moment when the needle of the speedometer climbed past eighty-five miles per hour. After that, he felt like he was becoming one with the machine. He thought he wasn’t on the road, but in it, part of it. Everything else around him, cars, trucks, vans and other motorcycles turned into nuisances, things he needed to avoid. Even the fastest hypercar in the world could not give him that rush.
Two-and-a-half hours later, he rolled into New York City, imagining the moment when he knocked at Helena’s door. Sadly though, this was a thought he had to reject. It was just past 10:30am. The chances of a college student being at home were rather slim. So, he headed to the river, believing that marveling at it was the best way to pass the time while he waited for her.
The sound of the thunder headers was still lingering in the air as he put the Harley on its centerstand. Gazing out over the rippling, blue river, he texted Helena:
“Hudson River Park, Pier 46, West End. I’ll be waiting.”
To his satisfaction, the pier wasn’t at all crowded. A handful of people were jogging around, and the benches under the trees were empty. Lured by the majestic sight, he stood behind the pier railing, watching small boats sailing across the river.
“What is it about this river that appeals to me? I wake up among snowy peaks every day. I get to stare at mountaintops anytime I like. Maybe that’s the answer. I’ve been seeing them all my life. The Hudson? This is just my second time.”
His vibrating cell phone interrupted his thoughts.
“I’m in Susan’s apartment on 7th Ave. I won’t be long.”
Those short sentences filled him with anticipation. Seventh Avenue was just minutes away. Very soon, he would have what he’d gone there for, apart from the glorious view of the Hudson. Michael couldn’t help but imagine how they would spend their day together. Breakfast, walking along the pier holding hands, lunch and… dessert. Tasting Helena was far better than sinking his teeth into any delicacy. Afterwards, he thought of taking her dancing. Catching a glimpse of that curvy body swinging to music would be a feast to his eyes and holding that body in his arms for a love song would be a feast to all of his senses.
Helena’s sweet scent swept into his nostrils, giving away her presence. Michael turned around, but as he did, another scent told him that she wasn’t alone. A cinnamon-like smell, identical to the one outside the clubhouse was there as well. His eyes confirmed his fear. Susan was strolling alongside her friend, her eyes on him. The serious expression on Helena’s face puzzled him even further. In the days he had known her, she had not done a good job hiding her emotions.
“Good morning,” she croaked, keeping her gaze low. “I didn’t expect to see you today. I thought you had to go work.”
“Me, too, but things were slow at the workshop,” he explained, pressing his lips together. “What’s wrong? I was expecting a little more enthusiasm.”
“Michael, I’m sorry,” Helena’s voice rose in volume and nerve. “I…” She faltered. “I can’t do this anymore. We can’t keep seeing each other.”
“What?!” He exclaimed, narrowing his eyes at her. “Why? Where the hell did that come from? You were all smiles when you left yesterday.”
“A lot has changed since yesterday,” she said, her voice but a whisper. “I found this, um…” She paused. “Book in my basement. I didn’t even know it existed until last night.”
“It’s true, we found it together,” Susan interjected. “I should give you some privacy,” she added, striding off to the left.
“A while ago, my father killed two of your friends,” Helena continued, lifting her gaze up to meet his. “Do you have any details on that? I asked him, but he wouldn’t say.”
“What does that have to do with anything?” He wondered, pitching his voice higher.
“It does,” she claimed, giving a quick nod. “Trust me, it does. Will you please tell me?”
“I remember that day,” Michael nodded, swallowing hard. “Tim and Donny had found a red Ferrari with the key in the ignition on the main road to Shandaken. They even took pictures of it. It was dark, but I could make out that yellow badge. They asked me to go check it out, but I thought it was a trap. I’m not into cars anyway. Your father snapped their necks, Helena. You want to know the weirdest part?”
“What’s that?”
“He didn’t even touch them,” he assumed an emphatic tone, clenching his jaw. “The coroner didn’t find any evidence of strangulation.”
Helena puffed air out of her cheeks, taking a step closer to him. “I asked you because the author of that book predicted that incident. He even mentioned the fact that your friends would try to steal from my father. The next prophecy about him says that his new ally will kill him in early March. You are his new ally, Michael. That’s what he thinks anyway.”
“Like hell I am,” he grumbled, glaring down at her. “Look, you won’t believe how many times I’ve thought of ripping his throat out. I haven’t done anything yet, because I know how hard getting close to him is, and I know that your mother will go after each and every shifter in Mercer. But, if he lays a hand on my friends, I won’t sit on my hands again. I will go after him; you can count on that.”
“That’s why I have to end things with you.” Once again, Helena’s voice lost its nerve as she dragged her gaze away from him. “God…” She whispered, peering skyward. “I’m so sorry…”
Two tears toppled over the edges of her eyes, taking away his ability to speak. He’d never seen her cry, and most of all, he didn’t think he would be the one to make her cry. Without uttering a word, he eased his hands up to her face and cupped her cheeks, noticing a tiny crease in her forehead.
“This isn’t over,” Michael whispered, running his thumbs across her cheekbones. “It can’t be over.”
“Please…” She breathed out. “Please don’t make this any harder than it already is.”
“What am I doing, Helena?” One more whisper fled his lips, his fingers around her temples.
“You’re making me yearn,” she sniffled, opening her eyes. “I want you so bad, Michael. So bad…” She whispered, her tears moistening his skin. “And I can’t have you.”
At that, she jerked back out of his hold, a sucking sob escaping her. Michael watched her putting distance between them, hoping that she would regret her decision. However, his hope died out in a matter of seconds. Susan ran behind her friend and caught up with her, but neither of them even looked back at him. Part of him wanted to discuss this more with her. She shouldn’t have decided to stop dating him, based on a prophecy. A bigger part of him though didn’t want to move a muscle. Helena was a witch; this was part of her nature. Asking her to not believe in prophecies would be like her asking him to stop being a shape
shifter…
Chapter Fifteen
Helena
A war was brewing within Helena, just minutes after her meeting with Michael. On one hand, her heart was screaming to her that she should run back to him. He was by far the most exciting guy she had ever met. He was gorgeous, strong, willing to protect her and had saved her life twice already. She felt safe with him, shielded from any harm imaginable. On the other hand, her mind was a different matter. A voice in her head repeated the same words, time and time again:
“Michael Gibson will be the end of your father. Every time you look at him, you will remember the agony he experienced before his death.”
For now, her mind had prevailed, which was a surprise for her. Helena had ended all of her previous relationships by listening to her heart. After a few dates with her ex boyfriends, she realized that she was better off without them. None of them had managed to pull at her heartstrings like Michael, and yet, she had chosen to abandon him.
And this turned out to be precisely the problem. Upon returning to Susan’s apartment, a feeling of emptiness swept through her, like a wind in the desert that blows clouds of sand in the air. She had to grab her bag, go to class, and then go back to her place. The two of them might have spent just one night in there, but she hadn’t forgotten it, and neither would she anytime soon. In fact, certain parts of that night had been replaying in her head. Smiles, caresses, touches, kisses… How could she go back to an apartment filled with memory? The answer was simple: She couldn’t. The memory had to fade before she could do so.
Furthermore, attending a class was the last thing on her mind. It was going to be a waste of time, because she would be unable to concentrate. For the moment, her only option was staying put. Despite Susan’s frustrated reaction, she proved yet again how good a friend she was. She didn’t leave her alone; instead, she cooked lunch and spent the rest of the afternoon with her.
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