When he pulled away, his expression was halfway between pained and hungry. “I was going to come with you,” he said.
I pulled back. “To school? Really?”
He nodded. “But now, with everything happening with Jack, I can’t. I have to stay.” He didn’t give me a chance to answer, instead pressing his lips to mine in short, hungry kisses that left me dizzy and breathless. The pull between us sprang to life, and my body ached to be closer, a part of him.
"You can come visit me," I said, between kisses.
His lips slowed and stilled against mine, and then he pulled away. His eyes were sad. "No, I can't. At least not for a while. Jack wants me to take over immediately. I'm moving in to help until he's up and around, and then I have to start travelling. He needs to introduce me to all of the allies we have left, so they'll trust me enough to work with me when he hands the reigns over. It's a full time job. I'm sorry."
"I understand," I said. And suddenly I did. Vera’s vision sprang to mind – a picture of Wes and me leading The Cause–and I wondered if this was the first step towards making it true. I shook that off, not wanting to make this bigger than it already was. I focused on the fact that Wes had wanted to come in the first place. His reluctance at talking to me wasn’t about not wanting to be with me, or worrying about the long distance part of our relationship; it was about his responsibility to The Cause. That made me feel better. "It’s okay,” I assured him. “I'll be home for the summer. We'll see each other in a few months."
"I know," he whispered, still gazing at me with a mournful expression.
"So what's the problem? You don't want to take over?"
"It's not that. I...." He stepped away and began to pace in front of me. "I don't know. My father was in charge, and look what it got him. An early grave. It's not like I care about my own life, but–" He broke off and looked up at me. "What if something happens to you, up at that school? And I wasn't there to stop it, because I put business before you? My father put business before family, and it got him and my mother killed. I won't let that happen." He walked over to me, running his hand through my hair.
"Wes, you are not your father. And nothing is going to happen to me." I slipped my hands inside his jacket, running my palms over his chest. I wanted to comfort him, but I didn't know what to say. I thought of Vera's vision again, wondering if he even realized what his taking over meant.
He leaned over, pressing his lips to my forehead, then my temple, then my cheek; I held on to him as his lips trailed along my jaw and then found my mouth. “You have to promise to be careful,” he whispered, between kisses. “Stay on school property. Don’t go anywhere alone.”
All I could do was mumble a noise that resembled, “Okay.”
He finally pulled away, on a long, almost painful exhale and cupped my face in his hands. “I’m going to find Miles and end him. And then you’re going to come home to me, okay?”
I smiled crookedly, too caught up in the moment to mind his protective demands. “And if my mom still hates you?”
His lips curved. “I have three months until summer break to wear her down with my charm. Piece of cake.”
My laughter was interrupted by my mother’s shrill voice cutting across the yard. “Tara, time’s up. Get inside!”
“Coming!” I stayed wedged between the tree and Wes, waiting for him to move and let me free.
“Don’t forget about me up there,” he whispered.
“Never,” I whispered back, already missing him.
Chapter Two
“Elizabeth, let’s get a move on,” Grandma called from the open doorway.
The sky was beginning to lighten from black to gray–the sun hadn’t yet made its appearance – and in the dim light of morning, the black Hummer parked at the curb looked more like an army tank. A very shiny army tank.
“Coming,” my mother called, hauling the last of the bags from my room and maneuvering carefully down the stairs under their weight. She’d made it clear she wasn’t excited about taking the Hummer, but I suspected she dreaded the ride home alone with Grandma.
I stood, bleary eyed on the porch, with my duffel bag slung over my shoulder, a pillow in one hand and a travel coffee mug in the other. I was as ready as I would ever be, especially at five thirty in the morning.
“We've gotta roll if we want to make it out of town before rush hour,” Grandma said.
My mother glared at Grandma as she shuffled past her with the bags, arms straining under the weight. “We’d already be on our way if you’d help carry something.”
Grandma held up her quilted purse that was the size of a small suitcase. “I have this, don’t I? It’s got snacks for the car.”
My mother muttered something under her breath that she’d once told me a lady should never say and heaved the last bag into the back of the Hummer with a thunk.
Grandma closed and locked the front door, and I slid into the cold backseat of the car/truck/weapon of mass destruction. It had a leathery new car smell that I didn’t remember from the first time I’d ridden in it; then again, I’d been barely conscious and clinging to life, so a smell going unnoticed was to be expected.
Grandma and my mother climbed into the front seats, and I do mean climbed. Grandma had to use the metal bar hanging below her open door, like a step ladder, and then another above her head to pull herself up. The massive front seat seemed to swallow her. My mother didn’t notice the extra step or the pull-bar, so she gripped the corners of the seat and climbed in like a toddler. I muffled a laugh, and she glared at me.
At the turn of the key the engine roared to life, and Grandma eased us out of the neighborhood. I turned back once before we rounded the corner at the stop sign and watched my house disappear from view. I couldn’t help but feel a certain finality to it all, like home would never feel the same again.
Grandma and my mother were quiet on the drive out of Frederick Falls, and I forced myself to sleep. The only other choice would’ve been to stare out the window and watch everything that was familiar fade away, until nothing was recognizable.
*
I awoke to the tires bumping over the lip of the asphalt; Grandma was pulling into a Burger King. We were off the highway, though there wasn't much to see. A lonely looking Burger King sat beside an Exxon. Both were surrounded by trees in all directions. The only interruption was the two lane road we had turned off of. State route something-or-other.
Grandma parked the Hummer beside a faded blue Camry and cut the engine. She glanced back and smiled when she saw that I was awake.
"Pit stop," Grandma said. "You gotta go?"
I shook my head, still a little dazed from the nap, and rubbed my eyes. "No, I'm good. What time is it?"
"Around seven. You want coffee?"
I nodded. "Please." The reality hit me that I was closer to Wood Point than home, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep now.
My mom hopped out and turned back to me. "I'll bring you a coffee and a breakfast sandwich," she said.
"Back in a flash," Grandma called.
Their doors slammed shut at the same time, and I watched them disappear into the building. When they were gone, I reached over and rummaged inside my backpack for my cell phone. I was hoping my mother wouldn't notice it was gone until it was too late to get it back from me, like after she’d left me at school. She must’ve known by now that I’d swiped it back since she tried confiscating it, but she hadn’t said anything yet.
I powered it on and waited for the screen to light up with any new calls. A new text flashed first, and I clicked it open, hoping it was Wes. I still wanted to find something to say to make him feel better, but it was from George.
Did u get my note? I'll miss u. Call me.
Crap. I'd almost forgotten about the song lyrics he'd sent through Angela. It was a sweet gesture, but I wasn't sure what to say to him. “Thanks” didn't seem like enough. He'd be expecting more than that. I just didn't have more than that to say right now. I missed his fr
iendship, but I didn't really know how to get that back when he was still so focused on a relationship. I closed the text. I'd figure something out later.
The screen beeped with a new voice mail. I punched the call button and listened. The voice that reached my ears was not at all the one I'd been expecting. I froze.
"Tara, darling. I heard the good news. You survived, Jack survived; we all survived. Oh wait, not all of us. Dear old Dad didn't make it. Pity. I guess the burden of world domination falls to me. Or should I say, to us. I'm sure by now there are search parties out looking for me. Wes, Cord, Derek, Jack. Maybe not Jack. No matter. They won't find me. But don't worry; you and I aren't finished yet. We’re connected in a way that no one else can touch. And I'll find you, when I'm ready. I have a project to complete first, but I’ll see you soon. Ciao."
I sat there, still as a statue, until the recorded voice had asked me three times whether I wanted to save or delete the message. I hit the button to end the call and let the phone fall to my lap. I stared blankly out the windshield, trying to decide whether I was actually even surprised by Miles' call. Not really. I guess I'd known he would contact me when he found out his shot had missed the mark. The thing that bothered me was the way he spoke. He sounded so much like Leo; smooth charm with a layer of psycho and a dash of sarcasm.
I shuddered. Movement outside caught my eye, and I looked up. Grandma held the door for my mother, who had a drink tray in one hand and a bag of greasy breakfast sandwiches in the other. Grandma let go of the door and took the bag from my mother before they started towards the car. If I wasn't freaking out, I might've been able to appreciate the fact that they were being nice to each other.
Instead, I punched the power button on my phone and shoved it back into my backpack just as they reached the car. In that split second, I decided not to tell my mom. I didn’t even have time to second guess it before she opened her car door and hauled herself inside.
"Sausage biscuit?" she asked, handing a wrapped sandwich over her shoulder.
I mumbled a “thanks” and took it as Grandma settled in the driver's seat and passed me a paper coffee cup. Steam rose through the tiny hole in the lid. I set the food aside and wrapped both hands around it, enjoying the emanating warmth. Grandma turned the key and the Hummer roared to life. In no time, we were back on the highway.
I ate my sandwich, or what little of it I could manage to get down. The voice mail had pretty much killed my appetite. All I could think about was Leo, and how truly crazy he’d been. Not only because he was willing to kill his own flesh and blood, but he'd made sure to instill the same kind of narcissistic hate in his own son. I still didn't understand why, completely, but I was pretty sure I knew who had answers.
"Mom, can I ask you something?"
"Sure," she answered, without turning. "What's up?"
"I was thinking about Leo. I mean, what happened to make him hate us so much?"
My mother sighed, and Grandma glanced over at her, like she was wondering if my mother was even going to answer.
A minute passed.
"Mom?"
"Tara, can we talk about this some other time?"
"You said that last time." Even though she couldn't see me, I crossed my arms over my chest, defiantly. She wouldn't put me off again. "When you told me about being related to him, and I asked why that would make him want to kill me, you said, 'There's a lot you don't understand and I can't take the time to explain it all right now', remember?"
My mother’s shoulders rose and fell like she was sighing again, but no sound came out. "You're right. I did."
"And you also said you'd stop treating me like I'm helpless," I pointed out. Saying the words made me grit my teeth. If she'd really meant them, she wouldn't be about to drop me off at a boarding school in the middle of nowhere.
"You're right," she said, “I did say that.” She paused for so long I wondered if she was ignoring me. Finally, she glanced over at Grandma and spoke. "I met Leo through your father. There was enough of an age gap that Leo was already living on his own by then, but I'd gone over for dinner one night and he was there, too. He was charming and outgoing and made people laugh, though I could see there was something else lurking underneath, even then.
“Your father was trying to talk him into joining the Cause but Leo wouldn’t commit. He and I spent a lot of time together, just the two of us, while your father was gone on missions. Looking back, I think Leo never intended to join us. He only wanted to spend time with me. I–” she broke off and then continued after a beat. “I never realized what was happening…"
Her voice drifted off, leaving a tense silence. Grandma said nothing. We both waited to hear the rest; I wondered how much of this Grandma had even heard.
"He came to me one night. Your father was away, and I was alone. He brought flowers and dinner, and I let him because we were friends, and I was naïve. I thought I might be able to use it to convince him to join The Cause. He kissed me, or tried to, and I pushed him away. Then he brought out a ring. Said he would never love anyone else, ever, so I had to say yes. Of course, I didn't. I loved your father, and I told him that.
“I don't think I've ever seen eyes that hard in my entire life. It was as if all the light went out of them in that instant. Then he left. By the time your father got back, Leo had disappeared."
My heart ached, though I wasn't sure for whom. My mother had lost a friend, my father his brother, and Leo his mind – all in one night. "Where did he go?"
"I don't know. By the time he came back a few years later, your father and I were married and you were on the way. He came to the front door and stood there, staring at my belly. Then he turned on his heel and walked away. I never saw him after that but I heard rumors. I think seeing me like that sent him over the edge. I never imagined–” She broke off and pressed her fingers over her lips, staring out the window while winter-dead trees rushed by in a blur.
Grandma sent me a look in the rearview mirror.
“After that, Leo started campaigning against the Cause,” my mother went on. “Gathering Werewolves to his side to fight against us. When you were born, I got a card from him. I thought it was a 'Congratulations' card, like the others, but it wasn't. It said: I'm sorry for your loss. I didn't really know what it meant until the attack happened. That’s when I knew he'd kill you. That's why I ran."
"Wow, Mom. I'm sorry," I said.
"No, I'm sorry." She shook her head. "He did all of this because I rejected him."
I wanted to say something to make her feel better, because it’s not like any of it was her fault, but I had absolutely no idea what to say. Something about her explanation confused me. Leo’s comments had all been about me being a dirty blood, but if he’d done it all because my mother had rejected him, then why did he care about me being a product of both races?
My Grandma spoke up, throwing fiery glances at my mother. "Elizabeth, he was a grown man. None of this is your fault, so let's not even go down that road. You have nothin' to apologize for. Leo was plain nuts, and that's that."
My mom blinked and then nodded. "Thanks, Mom," she said.
I smiled. I loved my Grandma.
Chapter Three
It wasn't long before Grandma steered the Hummer off the highway, onto what the sign referred to as Rural Route 3. Thick woods bordered both sides of the two lane road. Through the bare branches, I could just barely make out the purple haze of mountains in the distance. When Grandma slowed and turned onto a newly paved drive that was blocked by wrought iron gates, my stomach clenched.
Grandma pulled to a stop in front of the gates, and I stared. It was like something out of an old movie. The gates were made of thick, black iron and swirled and curled together in intricate designs. Each one was attached to an iron fence, at least ten feet tall, that disappeared to my right and left into the trees that bordered the property on each side. Beyond the gate, the asphalt driveway disappeared around a hill of perfectly manicured grass that was somehow lush and gr
een despite the season.
Grandma rolled down her window.
“Hello,” she called.
I searched for some sort of intercom, but I didn't see anything and no one answered her. A mechanical buzzing sounded, and I saw a tiny black camera mounted to the side of the gate. Grandma waited while it whirred and swiveled, and then the gate swung open on silent hinges. When the opening was wide enough for the Hummer to pass through, Grandma eased us forward. I stared out the window, feeling suddenly edgy and nervous. We were finally here.
The driveway wound through grassy hills bordered by rows of perfectly groomed trees. It looked like the setting to a country club or golf course, not a hidden boarding school for supernaturals. Then again, how many hidden boarding schools had I actually been to?
“Looks the same,” my mother murmured to her window.
“You went here?” I asked.
Grandma nodded. “Everyone in your family has gone to Wood Point. It’s the best Hunter school in the country.”
She sounded so proud that I clamped down my complaints and we rode on in silence.
Grandma rounded another curve, and the school came into view. It was... massive. And rigidly beautiful. The walls were a smooth, cream-colored stone that rose higher and higher, interrupted by wide balconies that opened up from third and fourth floor doorways. Long, narrow windows all displayed white curtains which clashed sharply with the dark trim that matched the wrought iron of the gates. Large columns on either side of the entrance ran all the way to the roof, ending in what looked like small turrets. It struck me as a cross between a military school and Buckingham Palace.
Grandma made the turn into the parking lot, and I caught a glimpse of another building behind this one. It was the same chalky stone without the fancy details. Grandma pulled in, double parking so the Hummer had room to spare on either side, should someone take the chance of parking next to us. Not likely.
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