Food. Yes, I can handle food. “Um, yeah, I’ll have the waffle.”
She orders eggs Benedict and a side of fruit. After the server leaves, she gives me her serious Mom eyes. “What is going on?”
“Nothing.”
“Something is on your mind. I can feel it.”
I roll my eyes and sit back.
“Abbigayle.” Her sternness sends a chill down my spine. “Sit. Up.” She sips her mimosa and forces a fake smile. My mother is a piece of work. I wonder if I know her at all. She’s hidden a very important part of her life, of my life, from me. What else is she hiding?
“Tell me about your Lunam.”
She coughs into the crystal champagne flute. Her napkin appears from her lap, and she dabs the corner of her mouth. “What?”
“I want to know about your Lunam.”
“Why?”
“Because it was a major part of your life, and you never talk about it.”
She folds her napkin back into her lap. “I talk about it, just not with you.” The words sting.
“Was it horrible?”
“Not at all.” A small smile dances across her face. “It just isn’t something I bring up in front of your father.”
Lightbulb on.
She tosses back the contents of her champagne glass, and a waiter appears to refill it. Bottomless mimosas.
“Tell me about Dillan.”
She looks appalled, but her eyes say something different. Thinking of Dillan gives her the smiles.
“He was my father for a few months. I’d like to know who he is.”
“Jase is your father. Always has been.”
“I know,” I apologize. “Of course I know that. But Dillan meant something to you. He was a significant part of your life.” His son could be a significant part of my life.
She taps a nail against her glass and glares at me. “Does your sudden interest in Dillan have anything to do with his offspring?”
“No.” Yes. “I’m curious about Lunam.” I shrug. “All my friends are going, and I’m here.”
She reaches for my hand. “I get it. You feel like you’re missing out. But you are gaining so much more by being here. Going to college.”
This is the same woman who preached endless hours about gap years and the value of spending an extra year at home. There was a line, and she was on the other side of it. Had she been pro-college, we never would’ve fought in the first place. “Why the sudden change of heart, Mom?”
She backtracks. “I still think a gap year has value, but I realized you were right too. Moving here, going to school, really is the best thing for you at this point.” Her values change with the wind. One kink in her plan, and she switches gears.
“I’m glad you think gap years are still valuable.”
Our server returns with the food. She places the plates in front of us and asks if we need anything else.
“We’re fine, thank you.” Mom picks up her knife and fork and slices into the perfectly cooked poached egg. She hasn’t eaten all day. I let her enjoy a few bites. “Abbi, you never told me about your classes. Did you get the political science teacher you wanted?”
“No, I didn’t.” I cut a chunk of my waffle, it smells like cinnamon and vanilla, and tastes like heaven. I shove another piece into my mouth. Who knows when I’ll eat again.
“Is there a waitlist? I can make a call.”
I drop my fork with a clang. There she goes again, making calls, pulling strings. Cheating. I won’t judge her for the decisions she made when she was my age. That is the time to make bad choices. Those are the years we learn tough lessons in life and love. Jay understands this mentality. He’s lived it his whole life. Unlike him, I haven’t lived at all. We may be the same age, almost to the day, but we’re at completely different stages in life. I’m just starting the game, while Jay has been around the board several times.
“I didn’t register.” I place my napkin on the table. “I decided to take a gap year.”
“You did what?” Every word escalates in volume.
Conversation at nearby tables stop, and everyone looks at us. I glance around the room. “Let’s not make a scene.”
Heat emanates from across the table. Her hands shake.
“Chill, Mom.”
She takes a sip from her water glass and sets it down gently, then picks up her fork and continues eating. Slowly the attention dissipates.
“Tell me, Abbi, what do you plan to do?” She asks like she already knows the answer.
“Tell me about phasing,” I whisper.
“This isn’t the place.”
I have her in a corner. “Do you still turn, does Dad know?”
“Yes. He’s like us. His father was a trueborn wolf, his mother was human.”
Holy cow. “A half-breed.” I quote from my research. Half-breeds weren’t allowed at the Lunam Ceremony that is why mom chose Dillan. “Does it hurt? How long does it last? Have you ever been stuck in wolf form?”
“No.” She laughs.
“No to which?”
“First and last questions.” She takes another sip of mimosa. “You control the phase. It lasts as long as you want it to. You can’t get stuck. Its disorienting at first, but there is no pain.” She pretends to be uncomfortable telling me this, but I sense her relief.
“When did you find out you were… Layla was….”
“When I was eight.”
“You wouldn’t even tell me our wi-fi password when I was eight, and Layla trusted you to keep this ginormous secret?”
“Things were different. I was different. I didn’t have a lot of friends. It was just me and Layla.”
I’ve heard the stories of Mom’s childhood. She doesn’t recall the memories fondly. Kalysia is always comparing my upbringing to hers. According to her, I win.
“I may not have been raised in the pack, but Layla made sure I knew who I was, what we were. Some traditions….” She pauses.
This is the realest moment she’s ever given me. I won’t let her pull back. “Some traditions, what? Mom, please stop protecting me. Nothing you say will change who I am. Who I am meant to be.”
I wonder how many mothers and daughters have had this conversation. This isn’t a wolf thing. My overprotective mother is coming to the realization that all her hard work was for nothing. She can’t force me to become her idealized image of me. She can’t stop fate.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Jay
The drive from Santa Cruz to the ceremony site took way longer than I thought it would due to the storm. Rain pelts the ground as I run from my truck to the house in the center of the clearing. Water splashes the back of my bare calves, my feet are soaked by the time I make it inside.
The foyer glows from white and gray Italian marble. A rug, Turkish if I had to guess, leads from the doorway to the staircase my dad is descending.
“This place is massive.” My voice echoes off the vaulted ceiling.
Dillan pulls me into his arms. We’re the same size but a hug from my father still feels like home.
“How was the drive?”
“Wet.” I shake water off my hair.
“You need a haircut.” He ruffles my head. “Come on, I’ll show you around.” He leads me across the foyer to a set of double doors. They open into a large room decked out with fancy furniture. “If the rain doesn’t subside, this will be cleared out, and we’ll have the ceremony here.” He points to the wall on the opposite side of the room, which has large glass doors with see-through curtains. “Two by two you will step outside and into the light of the full moon.”
“And phase into the most badass wolf the world has ever seen,” I finish.
“You know it.” He holds his hand up for a high-five. “I missed you. Are you good?”
I shrug. “You know how it is.”
He nods. If anyone knows, it’s him. “Have you heard from her?”
“No.” I instinctively check my phone. Just a text from Oz, asking when I’m
going to arrive. “Where’s everyone?”
“In the game room upstairs, third door on the right. I’ll be around if you need me for anything.” I hand him my soaking wet bag. “What, am I a bellboy?”
“You said it, old man.” I jog up the stairs leaving him to deal with my dirty, wet clothes.
I hear chatter and cheers when I reach the landing. The hall is long and lit by sconces. Every few feet there’s a picture on the wall. After the third one, I realize it’s the story of our kind, starting with Gaia alone in the woods. Then there’s a picture of a pack of wolves standing under a full moon. The next one looks exactly the same as the previous one, except the wolves are human. Something odd catches my attention. I go back to the picture of the wolves. They’re in various sizes and ages. Adults and children. We were taught that becoming wolf was a choice we made as an adult, not something forced on children.
“Dude!” Oz appears. “I thought I smelled you!” He meets me halfway. It isn’t a dis; our senses are set to high. I can smell Raine’s perfume all over him.
“What’s up, bruh?”
We clasp hands, then hug.
“We’re golden. Everything came together even better than we hoped.”
“What is this place?”
“Your dad didn’t tell you?”
“I didn’t ask.”
“Dude, this is the original site of the Lunam Ceremony.” Ozzy walks back to the game room and opens the door. “A lot of lives were lost saving this building in the fire of 2017.” The room looks like the lobby of a posh hotel.
“Finally.” Raine bounces up from the floor, where a jigsaw puzzle is half complete. She gives me a hug, then jumps into Ozzy’s arms and plants a fat kiss on his cheek. “Did you tell him yet?” She looks at me, grinning.
“I was just about to.” He can’t keep his eyes or hands off her. “You want to tell him?” He kisses her neck.
“Go ahead.” She plays coy and pushes his lips away. He whispers something in her ear, and she giggles.
“Tell me what?” I interrupt before they start ripping clothes off each other.
“This place is owned by Monte Tallac.” He squeezes her tight, and she wraps her arms around him. “If Old Man Tallac is letting us use this place, maybe….” He lets the thought hang in the air like good news.
“I wouldn’t hold my breath.” I fall into an armchair, tired.
“I know my bff, and she may surprise you.” Raine returns to her puzzle. “Surprise all of us.”
“Look at you, all hopeful,” I tease.
She flips me off.
Ozzy is filling me in on food and ceremonial garments when a group of tittering chicks walk in. Two of them say hi to Ozzy, and Raine shoots a warning glare their way. Oz nods politely, then joins his girl on the floor to work on the puzzle.
“Wow.” I laugh at his obedience.
He shrugs in defeat. “I love her.”
“Aw.” She scoots closer to him. “I love you too, boo.”
“And she can probably kick your ass,” I add.
“True.” He fist-bumps me. “In a couple days, you’ll get it.”
He’s referring to the ceremony. Matching, soulmates—all the shit we said this wasn’t going to be about.
“We’re not doing that this year.”
“As if we have a choice.” One of the new girls sits in the chair opposite mine. “My mom says it’s predetermined. We have no control over what happens when we walk through the smoke.”
“Not true.” Raine nudges Ozzy. He stands and follows her to the sofa. “If you’re a trueborn, you have complete control.” She smiles at him, and he kisses her forehead. “Your mommy would know that if she were a real alpha.” Raine is being a royal bitch. Her parents are seeding their values into her head.
I had a lot of time to think about the ceremony and what it stands for. Sitting on a board in the middle of the ocean waiting for the perfect wave gives you lots of time for reflection. At the end of day, I set out to make things right for others like me. I will see that through, then worry about how I’m gong to win back Abbi.
“Hierarchy has no place in our ceremony,” I remind her and everyone else in the room. All chatter ends when I stand. “This ceremony isn’t about hooking up or power. It’s about our birthright. We can’t lose focus now. When we step through the smoke into the moonlight, we accept the responsibility of protecting our kind. Our family.”
Raine apologizes to the girl. “Sorry. I was out of line.”
“It’s okay. I’m used to being shit on. Everyone here thinks we’re freaks. We didn’t ask to be dosed with R-49.”
Raine apologizes. “Nobody should ever make you feel like shit. No matter how you got the gene, you’re one of us.”
“So you say.” The girls walks out of the room with her friends.
“What just happened?” Raine looks around for support.
“She has issues.” Ozzy rubs her back.
“Dude, come on. They’re tired of being marginalized. Not everyone grew up with a cheering section.”
The bubble created by the parents of the Meyers kids protected them from the harsh world of criticism and prejudice. It also hindered their ability to deal with adverse situations.
“I said I was sorry.” She goes into victim mode. “I was being the bigger person.”
“That’s it, Raine.” I try not to be harsh, but it’s difficult. “You are the bigger person. You represent everything she doesn’t have, will never have. The ceremony is a chance for most of these kids to be heard, seen, and accepted by your kind.”
“Our kind,” Ozzy corrects. “We’re children of the leaders. Even you, Jay.”
“Technically.” My father raised by the son of one of the most infamous leaders in pack history. “By blood I’m a half-breed. According to history, I’m just like them.”
“You’re one of us.” Ozzy stands beside me. “They are us.”
I’ve gained a true friend in Ozzy. I’ll forever be grateful for having him in my life, even if I have to spend the next sixty years watching him cupcake with Raine.
◆◆◆
Dinner is served in a restaurant-sized dining room, only a dozen people show up.
“Where is everyone?” I set my plate on the table and sit next to Landon.
He shrugs and devours half a cheeseburger. “Nobody is feeling the social vibe tonight. Must be the rain.”
The storm rages outside. It hasn’t let up the entire time I’ve been here. “It’s supposed to clear up tomorrow in time for the ceremony.”
“I hope so.” Landon starts on his second burger. “You excited?”
I shrug.
“Yeah, me too. I mean, what does it all mean anyway? I’m related to half the girls here, and the others”—he shivers—“I don’t want to match with a mutated version of our kind.” He is referencing those turned by the R-49 serum.
“That’s harsh.” I don’t lecture Landon, the way I did with Raine. I don’t want him to feel like I’m trying to alpha him.
“It’s reality. Maybe I should just take the serum, like my parents want. Dad said he’d buy me a new truck if I do it.” He gazes out the window. “It isn’t like the old days, when the ceremony meant something. This is just a big charade. There’s no guarantee we’ll even get laid.”
“It’s our—”
“Birthright, yeah, I heard your speech.” He pushes away from the table and picks up the empty plate. “I’ll probably stay, since it doesn’t mean anything anyway, but damn, I really wanted that truck.”
After he leaves, I’m left in the dining room with three guys across the room who want nothing to do with me. They speak in low whispers, inconspicuously looking at me every few minutes. The vibe in the house isn’t what I expected. Everyone is cliqued up like we’re in some 1990s high school sitcom.
I hide in my room the rest of the night. While I’m all about fairness, I appreciate having a single room while some of the others share. The room is dark, and every no
w and then, a flash of lighting reminds me of the lavish surroundings. Soon I’ll be back in my dad’s crummy apartment, or maybe I’ll go north to Oregon and help Grace at the sanctuary. Deal with Lauren. Regardless of where I end up, I’ll be alone. Abbi hasn’t called. It was immature of me to assume she would fall in line with my wishes. I didn’t want anything to do with her dreams. I can’t blame her for not wanting to be in mine.
Light flashes again, this time from the table; my phone is ringing. The face on the screen is not the one I was hoping for.
“Hi, Dad.”
“I don’t want to interrupt the party. I’m just calling to make sure you have everything you need before I go to bed.”
Not even close. “I’m in bed actually.”
“Alone?” He jokes, kind of. He’s walked in on me more than a few times, and vice versa.
“Yeah, Dad. There isn’t much of a party going on here.”
“Tomorrow will be better. Hopefully, the rain lets up.” He rattles off the weather report. Mostly sunny skies with a 30 percent chance of rain tomorrow night.
“Tell me about the ceremony.”
“I’ve pretty much told you everything. You walk under the canopy, through the burning sage, and into the moonlight.”
“I meant, you know, the other part.” The part we never talk about. “How do you know if the person you meet during the ceremony is the one?” I have to face the fact that I could match with someone else tomorrow. Matching isn’t the focus of the ceremony, but it is a reality.
Trudging up old memories isn’t his favorite thing to do.
“Imagine a room full of colored balls.”
I laugh. “Balls?”
“Just hear me out.”
“I got it. A room full of balls.”
“Imagine you have to choose one, in fact, you have to get one before someone else gets to it.”
I picture a dozen guys frantically trying to snatch balls. “That sounds stressful.”
“For some, it is. They choose out of desperation. But let’s say you know the color of the ball you want. You’ve seen it. Touched it. Smelled it. When you enter the room you go directly to your ball.”
The Lunam Legacy (The Lunam Series Book 3) Page 14
