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Nightshade

Page 2

by Andrea Cremer


  “Indeed.” Her gaze moved to my father. “The ceremony must not be interrupted or delayed. Under any circumstances.”

  She rose and extended her hand. My father briefly pressed his lips to her pale fingers. She turned to me. I reluctantly took her vellum-like skin in my own hand, trying not to think about how much I wanted to bite her.

  “All worthy females have finesse, my dear.” She touched my cheek, letting her nails scrape hard enough to make me flinch.

  My stomach lurched.

  Her stiletto heels struck a sharp staccato on the tile as she left the kitchen. The wraiths trailed behind her, their silence more disturbing than the unnerving rhythm of her steps. I drew my knees up to my chest and rested my cheek against them. I didn’t breathe again until I heard the front door close.

  “You’re awfully tense,” my father said. “Did something happen on patrol?”

  I shook my head. “You know I hate wraiths.”

  “We all hate wraiths.”

  I shrugged. “Why was she here anyway?”

  “To discuss the union.”

  “You’re kidding.” I frowned. “Just me and Ren?”

  My father passed a weary hand over his eyes. “Calla, it would be helpful if you wouldn’t treat the union like a hoop to jump through. Far more is at stake than ‘just you and Ren.’ The formation of a new pack hasn’t occurred for decades. The Keepers are on edge.”

  “Sorry,” I said, not meaning it.

  “Don’t be sorry. Be serious.”

  I sat up straight.

  “Emile was here earlier today.” He grimaced.

  “What?!” I gasped. “Why?”

  I couldn’t imagine a civil conversation between Emile Laroche and his rival alpha.

  My father’s voice was cold. “The same reason as Lumine.”

  I buried my face in my hands, my cheeks once again on fire.

  “Calla?”

  “Sorry, Dad,” I said, swallowing my embarrassment. “It’s just that Ren and I get along fine. We’re friends, sort of. We’ve known the union was coming for a long time. I can’t see any problems with it. And if Ren does, that would be news to me. But this whole process would be much easier if everyone would just lay off. The pressure isn’t helping.”

  He nodded. “Welcome to your life as an alpha. The pressure never helps. It also never goes away.”

  “Great.” I sighed and rose from my chair. “I have homework.”

  “Night, then,” he said quietly.

  “Night.”

  “And Calla?”

  “Yeah?” I paused at the bottom of the staircase.

  “Go easy on your mother.”

  I frowned and continued up the stairs. When I reached my bedroom door, I shrieked. Clothes were strewn everywhere. Covering my bed, on the floor, hanging from the nightstand and lamp.

  “This will never do!” My mother pointed an accusing finger at me.

  “Mom!”

  One of my favorite vintage T-shirts, from a Pixies tour in the eighties, hung from her clenched fists.

  “Do you own anything beautiful?” She shook the offending T-shirt at me.

  “Define beautiful,” I returned.

  I swallowed a groan, searching for any clothes I particularly wanted to protect, and sat on top of my Republicans for Voldemort hoodie.

  “Lace? Silk? Cashmere?” Naomi asked. “Anything that isn’t denim or cotton?”

  She twisted the Pixies shirt in her hands and I cringed.

  “Do you know that Emile was here today?” Her eyes moved over the bed, assessing the pile of clothes.

  “Dad said that,” I replied quietly, but inside I was screaming.

  I stroked my fingers along the rope of hair that hung over my shoulder, lifted the end, and caught it between my teeth.

  My mother pursed her lips and dropped the T-shirt so she could extract my fingers from the twisted hair. Then she sighed, took a seat on the bed just behind me, and pulled the elastic from the end of the braid.

  “And this hair.” She combed out the waves with her fingers. “Why you bind it up all the time is beyond me.”

  “There’s too much,” I said. “It gets in the way.”

  I could hear the chime of my mother’s chandelier earrings when she shook her head. “My lovely flower. You can’t hide your assets anymore. You’re a woman now.”

  With a disgusted grunt I rolled across the bed, out of her reach.

  “I’m no flower.” I pushed the curtain of hair back behind my shoulders. Free of the braid, it felt cumbersome and heavy.

  “But you are, Calla.” She smiled. “My beautiful lily.”

  “It’s just a name, Mom.” I began to gather up my clothes. “Not who I am.”

  “It is who you are.” I started at the warning note in her voice. “Stop doing that. It’s not necessary.”

  My hands froze on the T-shirt I’d grabbed. She waited until I placed the half-folded shirt back on the coverlet. I started to say something, but my mother held up a silencing hand.

  “The new pack forms next month. You’ll be the alpha female.”

  “I know that.” I fought off the urge to throw dirty socks at her. “I’ve known that since I was five.”

  “And now it’s time for you to start acting like it,” she said. “Lumine is worried.”

  “Yeah, I know. Finesse. She wants finesse.” I wanted to gag.

  “And Emile is concerned about what Renier wants,” she said.

  “What Ren wants?” I said, wincing at the shrillness of my voice.

  My mother lifted one of my bras from the bed. It was plain white cotton—the only kind I owned.

  “We need to think about preparations. Do you wear any decent lingerie?”

  The burning in my cheeks began again. I wondered if excessive blushing could cause permanent discoloration.

  “I don’t want to talk about this.”

  She ignored me, muttering under her breath as she sorted my things into piles, which, since she’d ordered me to stop folding, I could only presume were “acceptable” and “to be discarded.”

  “He’s an alpha male and the most popular boy at your school. At least by all accounts I’m privy to.” Her tone became wistful. “I’m sure he’s accustomed to certain attentions from girls. When your time arrives, you must be ready to please him.”

  I swallowed sour bile before I could speak again.

  “Mom, I’m an alpha too, remember?” I said. “Ren needs me to be a pack leader. Wants me to be a warrior, not the captain of the cheerleading squad.”

  “Renier needs you to act like a mate. Just because you’re a warrior doesn’t mean you can’t be enticing.” The sharpness of her tone cut me.

  “Cal’s right, Mom.” My brother’s voice piped in. “Ren doesn’t want a cheerleader. He’s already dated them all for the last four years. He’s probably bored as hell. At least big sis will keep him on his toes.”

  I turned to see Ansel leaning against the door frame. His eyes swept over the room.

  “Whoa, Hurricane Naomi strikes, leaving no survivors.”

  “Ansel,” my mother snapped, hands on her hips. “Please give your sister and me some privacy.”

  “Sorry, Mom.” Ansel continued to grin. “But Barrett and Sasha are downstairs waiting for you to go with them on night patrol.”

  Her eyelids fluttered in surprise. “Is it that late already?”

  Ansel shrugged. When she turned away, he winked at me. I covered my mouth to hide my smile.

  She sighed. “Calla, I’m serious about this. I put some new clothes in your closet and I expect you to start wearing them.”

  I opened my mouth to object, but she cut me off.

  “New clothes starting tomorrow or I’ll get rid of all your T-shirts and ripped jeans. End of discussion.”

  She rose and swept from the room, her skirt swirling around her calves as she moved. When I heard her steps on the staircase, I groaned and flipped over on the bed. The mound of T-shirts
offered a convenient place to bury my head. I was tempted to shift into wolf form and rip the bed apart. But that would get me grounded for sure. Plus I liked my bed, and at the moment it was one of the few things that my mother wasn’t threatening to toss out.

  The mattress creaked. I propped myself up on my elbows and looked at Ansel. He perched on the corner of the bed.

  “Another heartwarming mother-daughter bonding session?”

  “You know it.” I rolled onto my back.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “Yeah.” I put my hands on my temples, attempting to massage the new throbbing pain away.

  “So—” Ansel began. I turned to look at him. My brother’s teasing smile had vanished.

  “So what?”

  “About Ren . . .” His voice thickened.

  “Spit it out, An.”

  “Do you like him? I mean for real?” he blurted.

  I collapsed back onto the bed. My arms covered my eyes, blotting out the light.

  “Not you too.”

  He crawled toward me.

  “It’s just,” he said. “If you don’t want to be with him, you shouldn’t be.”

  Beneath my arms my eyes snapped open. For a moment I couldn’t breathe.

  “We could run away. I’d stay with you,” Ansel finished in a voice almost too low to hear.

  I sat bolt upright.

  “Ansel,” I whispered. “Don’t ever say anything like that. You don’t know what . . . Just drop it, okay?”

  He fiddled with the coverlet. “I want you to be happy. You seemed so mad at Mom.”

  “I am mad at Mom, but that’s Mom, not Ren.” I wound my fingers through the long waves that spilled over my shoulders and thought about shaving my head.

  “So you’re okay with it? With being Ren’s mate?”

  “Yeah. I’m okay with it.” I reached out, ruffling his sand brown hair. “Besides, you’ll be in the new pack. So will Bryn, Mason, and Fey. With you guys at my back, we’ll keep Ren in line.”

  “No doubt.” He grinned.

  “And don’t breathe a word about running away to anyone. An, that’s way out of line. When did you become such a free thinker anyway?” My eyes narrowed.

  He bared sharpened canines at me. “I’m your brother, right?”

  “So your traitorous nature is my fault?” I smacked him on the chest.

  “Everything I need to know I learned from Cal.”

  He stood up and began jumping on the bed. I bounced close to the edge and then rolled off, landing easily on the balls of my feet. I grabbed the edge of the coverlet and gave it a sharp jerk. Ansel fell laughing onto his back and bounced once on the mattress before he lay still.

  “I’m serious, Ansel. Not a word.”

  “Don’t worry, sis. I’m not stupid. I would never betray the Keepers,” he said. “Unless you asked me to . . . alpha.”

  I tried to smile. “Thanks.”

  THREE

  WHEN I ENTERED THE KITCHEN FOR BREAKFAST, my family fell silent. I made a beeline for the coffee. My mother rushed over, grasped my hands, and turned me to face her.

  “Oh, honey, you are a vision,” she said, kissing me on both cheeks.

  “It’s a skirt, Mom.” I wrenched free. “Get over it.”

  I grabbed a mug from the cupboard and poured coffee. At the last second I managed to push my long hair out of the way before blond tendrils dunked in the black liquid.

  Ansel tossed me a Luna bar and tried to hide the smirk on his face.

  Traitor, I mouthed as I sat down. Two bites into my breakfast, I realized my father was gaping at me.

  “What?” I asked around a mouthful of soy protein.

  He coughed, blinking several times. Then his eyes darted from my mom to me. “Sorry, Calla. I guess I didn’t expect you to take your mother’s suggestions to heart.”

  She glared at him. My father shifted in his seat and unfolded the Denver Post.

  “You’re quite fetching.”

  “Fetching?” My voice jumped up a couple octaves. The coffee mug shook in my hand.

  Ansel choked on his Pop-Tart and grabbed for a glass of orange juice.

  My father lifted the newspaper to hide his face while my mother patted my hand. I allowed myself one glare at her before losing myself in the haze of caffeine.

  We spent the rest of breakfast in awkward silence. Dad read and tried to avoid any eye contact with me or my mother. Mom kept throwing encouraging glances in my direction, which I deflected with cold stares. Ansel ignored us, happily munching on his Pop-Tart. I threw back the last dregs of coffee.

  “Come on, An.”

  Ansel bounced from his chair, grabbing a jacket on his way to the garage.

  “Good luck, Cal,” my father called as I followed my little brother toward the door.

  I didn’t respond. Most days I looked forward to school. Today I dreaded it.

  “Stephen.” I heard Mom’s voice rise as I walked out the door and slammed it shut behind me.

  “Can I drive?” Ansel’s eyes were hopeful.

  “No,” I said, heading for the driver’s seat of our Jeep.

  Ansel gripped the dashboard as I squealed out of the driveway. The scent of burnt rubber filled the cab. After I cut off the third car, he glared at me, struggling to buckle his seat belt.

  “Just ’cause wearing panty hose gives you a death wish doesn’t mean I have one too.”

  “I am not wearing panty hose,” I said through clenched teeth, swerving around yet another car.

  Ansel’s eyebrows shot up. “You’re not? Isn’t that, like, unseemly or something?”

  He grinned at me, but the dagger glare I threw at him made him cower against his seat. By the time we reached the Mountain School’s parking lot, his face was ghost white.

  “I think I’ll get Mason to drive me home,” he said, slamming the door behind him.

  When I noticed how white my knuckles had become as a result of my grip on the steering wheel, I took a deep breath.

  They’re just clothes, Cal. It’s not like Mom made you go get a boob job.

  I shuddered, hoping no such ideas ever entered Naomi’s mind.

  Bryn intercepted me halfway across the parking lot. Her eyes widened as she looked me up and down.

  “What happened?”

  “Finesse,” I grumbled, and kept walking toward our school.

  “Huh?” Her tight bronze ringlets bounced around her head as she trotted beside me.

  “Apparently being an alpha female involves more than fighting off Searchers,” I said. “At least according to Lumine and my mother.”

  “So Naomi’s trying to give you a makeover again?” she asked. “What’s different this time?”

  “This time she’s serious.” I adjusted the waistband of my skirt, wishing I were in jeans. “And so is Lumine.”

  “Well, I guess you’d better get with the program.” Bryn shrugged as we passed the chalet-like residences from which bleary-eyed human students stumbled.

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence.” I couldn’t figure out how the skirt was supposed to lie, so I gave up trying to straighten it.

  We walked in silence through the entrance and down the hall to the long row of senior lockers. The smell of the school that greeted me each day had changed. The sharp metallic of the lockers, acrid floor polish countering the freshness of the ceilings’ cedar beams were familiar, but the fear that usually seeped from the skin of the humans was missing.

  Instead they smelled curious, surprised, a strange reaction from the boarders, whose lives were carefully segregated from the local Keepers and Guardians. The only activities we shared were our classes. Having their eyes on me as we moved through the crowd of students jostling through the narrow space proved more than a little unsettling.

  “Is everyone staring?” I tried not to sound nervous.

  “Yep. Pretty much all staring.”

  “Oh God,” I moaned, tightening my grip on my bag.

  �
��At least you look hot.” Her cheerful response made my stomach flip.

  “Please don’t say stuff like that to me. Ever.” Why did my mother do this to me? I felt like a sideshow freak at a carnival.

  “Sorry,” Bryn said, toying with the multi-hued metallic bangles that jangled along her arm.

  I switched out my homework for the books I needed in first and second period. The din of the hallway dropped to a buzz of curious whispers, and Bryn abruptly straightened from her casual pose.

  I knew what that meant. He was nearby. I slung my bag over my shoulder, slammed my locker door, and hated that my heart sped up as I looked for Renier Laroche.

  The crowd of students parted for the Bane alpha and his pack. Ren, flanked by Sabine, Neville, Cosette, and Dax, seemed to float down the hallway. He moved as though he owned the school. His eyes darted from side to side—ever a wolf, always predatory.

  I’ll bet he’s never had to suffer a makeover.

  When Ren found me, a half-cocked smile played along his mouth. I stood perfectly still, matching his challenging gaze. Bryn stepped closer. I could feel her breath on my shoulder.

  Activity in the hall stilled. Eyes fixed on our meeting, whispers traveling from mouth to ear.

  A movement to my right caught my eye. Mason, Ansel, and Fey emerged from the throng of students and took flanking positions around Bryn. I stood a little taller.

  Not the only alpha now, are you?

  Ren’s eyes narrowed as they focused on the Nightshade wolves behind me. An abrupt laugh escaped his throat.

  “You going to call off your soldiers, Lily?”

  I glanced at the Banes, who stood like sentinels around their alpha.

  “As if you’re flying solo?” I leaned back against my locker.

  His laugh became a low chuckle, not unlike a growl. He looked at Sabine.

  “Get out of here. I need to speak to Calla. Alone.”

  The inky-haired girl to his right stiffened, but she turned and walked back in the direction of the commons. The other three wolves fell in behind her, though Dax cast a glance back at his alpha before they melted into the crowd.

  Ren raised an eyebrow. I nodded.

  “Bryn, I’ll see you in class.”

 

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