by Alex Lux
Later, when that wolf proved to be Derek, I'd understood, even as more mysteries presented themselves to me.
Hopefully, our cloak-and-dagger mission would put at least a few of those mysteries to rest.
I struggled to keep a wall against the bulk of my dark gift but, since the recent attacks, it fought its way through with renewed tenacity. It had lain dormant for years, but lately had been ready to leak through my defenses at the slightest provocation. It grew hungry for souls, and that terrified me.
Ocean's skin grew cold and clammy under my palm, and my heart rate escalated. "Hurry. I can't keep it back much longer."
"Almost there." Her voice sounded thin, worn out. Whatever she was doing had tapped her energies.
Pain shot through my bones as I continued to fight the force growing inside me. My control waned, the blood lust of the power in me getting stronger.
"Ocean!"
Her voice came out in a rasp. "Nearly there. Just one more second."
I counted to three and then couldn't hold it in any longer. Pulling back, I collapsed to the floor.
Ocean reached for me, her face pale, dark circles under her eyes. "I did it. Come on."
I found a second wind at the promise of seeing what Mother hid in her closet. No one had ever been in here before, that I knew of.
At first, the revelation was anticlimactic. A huge walk-in closet full of clothes, most of which still had tags on them, wasn't exactly the big secret we were looking for.
As impressive as her clothing selection was, her wall of shoes held Ocean in awe. She picked up a pair of Jimmy Choos and nearly wept. "I so want these. Do you think she'd notice if I took them?"
I pulled them from her hands and put them back. "Yeah, pretty sure she'd notice if a pair of $800 shoes went missing. We need to focus. Being here sets my skin on fire."
She rolled her eyes. "You're such a worry-wart."
We searched through every inch of the closet, but found nothing more remarkable than handbags, jewelry, scarves and an alarming selection of lingerie that I really didn't want to think about.
I slumped onto the ground. "There's nothing here. It's a waste of time."
Ocean paced the spacious room, finger on chin. "Not so fast. Why have such high security for clothes and shoes?"
"I'm sure you'd do the same if you had this collection."
She looked at the coveted shoes. "True. I would. But still, there's got to be something."
Maybe she was right. I got up and checked behind the clothes, tapping on the wall and kicking at the baseboards.
"What are you doing, Rose?"
"I'm checking for hidden panels."
Ocean fist pumped the air. "You're a freaking genius!"
She did the same on the other wall.
Within a few minutes, I heard a hollow sound emanate from behind a panel. "Ocean, come here, I think I found something."
We tapped around, looking for a way to open it, and pushed down at just the right angle to pop a board out. Behind it was stowed a handcrafted wooden box.
Ocean helped me pull it out and, using her newfound lock-picking skills, opened it.
I pulled out letters bunched together with rubber bands and handed them to Ocean. "Go through these while I see what else is in here."
She scanned the letters, using her phone to take pictures of each one.
I pulled out a pile of photos and took shots of them with my phone.
One picture stopped me cold. "Ocean, look at this."
I held it up to her, and she gasped. "Isn't that—"
"—I think so. It's Mother and Derek's dad—with the rose bush behind them."
The ramifications sunk in slowly for us both.
Ocean held the picture closer. "So that means she's known about it this whole time? This photo had to be taken before you were born. Before she moved to Oregon."
"Right." Mother caught in another lie. It was a clue, but to what?
I dug through more knickknacks and papers and found what appeared to be the deed to a house.
Ocean pointed to the address on it. "That's this property, but look at the date."
I'd noticed the same thing. We'd only moved to Washington a few years ago from Oregon, but Mother had purchased this property over twenty-five years ago. "Why would she lie about this?" I asked. "What's so bad about owning the property this whole time?"
"Maybe because of this." Ocean pointed to another line on the document.
"David O'Conner bought her this property? And paid for it in cash?" Mother had taken money from everyone in the coven to allegedly buy this land, and then she claimed we were stuck here when the attacks on us started, because we were upside down on our loan and couldn't afford to move. "She's not only lied to everyone, but she stole from us all, too?"
Ocean snapped a picture of the document. "No wonder she can afford Jimmy Choos. When the coven finds out about this, they're going to be pissed. I think this gives me added justification for taking at least a pair or two of shoes."
"No."
Outside the dogs in the yard barked and howled. Somebody was coming.
My heart sped up as Ocean shoved everything back in the box and put it in the wall's secret compartment. We made sure everything looked the way it had before we slipped out of the closet and scurried across the house to the back door. As we closed the door behind us, Blake arrived.
I froze.
Blake held my gaze, and I expected to feel the same revulsion I usually did when he stared too long, but this time a slight tingle of heat filled my belly.
He laid a hand on my arm. "Rainbow's gotten back early from Seattle. I'll stall her while you two get out of here."
Ocean grabbed me and pulled me out through the kennel while Blake met Mother at the car and talked to her about one of the trees on the property that needed trimming.
We ran all the way back to our cottage and slammed the door shut behind us.
I closed the curtains and fell to the couch. "If Mother had found us—"
"Then we would have taken evidence of her thievery and lies to the coven and crucified her. She has no power over us, Rose. She never did. The only power she has is what you give her."
I shook my head. "How can you be so calm?"
She stood and walked to her laptop. "How can you be so scared? What's the worst she can do to you?"
I thought about it. "Kick me out."
"Okay, so why's that so bad?"
"Because I'd be homeless and broke with nowhere to go and I'd probably end up living in a cardboard box eating stale food from trashcans and begging for money on the sides of freeways."
She started her computer and connected her phone to the USB port. "You're so melodramatic. Hand me your phone."
I tossed it to her.
"Okay, so you're homeless and broke, but you have me, and you are a talented web designer. You can make money. We could get a place together. You would not end up living in a box eating trash."
I hadn't thought about life outside of the coven, but now that I did, it didn't seem so bad. A life-long fear of being kicked out of the coven, left to fend for myself, shook loose inside me, and I promised myself I'd study it more closely when I had some time alone. For now, we had to examine the pictures we'd found.
And I needed to talk to Derek.
I reached for my phone and checked my messages.
Nothing.
I texted him again. "Please call me. I never meant to hurt your family."
He was never going to talk to me again, but there was someone who might be able to help. I grabbed my own laptop and got my keys. "You work on that, I've got to run an errand."
THREE
Obscenely and Courageously
ROSE
We will meet; and there we may rehearse most
obscenely and courageously.
—William Shakespeare, A Midsummer Night's Dream
Dear Diary,
Truth and lies dance in my soul like misbegotten lovers
whom fate has kept apart too long. The steely certainty of right and wrong, good and bad, has bled into a batch of listless gray soup, leaving me colored in doubt. The people I trusted most have turned against me. My enemies have proven to be kind. The foundation of my world is splitting apart, and I don't know who to trust or what to believe.
If our life is a quilt made of the patchwork of memories, then mine has been shredded, with nothing left to me but lost fragments of what should have been.
As Poe once wrote, I exist within myself alone. Only I'm not alone; I'm surrounded by faceless enemies that once looked like family.
THE COLD GRAY of winter clung to world outside, and not in the postcard-of-a-winter-wonderland kind of way, but in that dreary Stephen-King-horror-story kind of way. Like at any moment something terrifying would pop out from behind one of the sad looking trees and eat my soul for lunch.
Given how I was feeling, I'm pretty sure they'd spit me back out when the indigestion hit.
I pulled Ocean's car into a parking spot and stared at the door that had changed the course of my fate. Had it really been less than a month ago that I'd first walked into Master Kyoung's martial arts studio and right in to Derek's arms? It felt like so much longer.
The car cooled, and a shiver ran up my spine. He likely wouldn't be there. I shouldn't expect to see him. In fact, I wasn't even there to see him at all.
With these self-lies spinning in my head, I grabbed my computer and walked in to the warm studio.
When the bell on the door dinged, a short Korean man with tight muscles looked up from the front desk. He smiled and bowed. "Miss Wintersong, it nice to see you. You well?"
I bowed back. "Good to see you too, Master Kyoung. I'm okay. I finished your website and came by to show you. Is this a good time?"
"Yes, good time. I alone here," he said, answering my unspoken question.
So I really wouldn't see him today. Just as well.
I pulled out my laptop and turned it on, then found the files for his website and gave him a tour. "As I said before, your original site was pro, so basically my changes were cosmetic. I did add a community area where your students can come to chat and exchange stories of their training. This way, there's a sense of connection and involvement. I thought it would help inspire more members to get involved, but I can take it out if you want."
He shook his head. "I like. Very smart. Good for people to talk, connect, help each other. Community important."
Again I felt his words carried an underlying meaning meant only for me. "I also changed the color scheme, focusing on power colors, using red as an accent to give the site more impact."
He put his hand on mine. "You did good job. But only got few lessons for this. I train you myself to pay rest. Okay?"
Tears filled my eyes, and I swiped at them with the back of my hand before they escaped. Derek had been my trainer, but now he wouldn't even speak to me. "It's okay, Master Kyoung. I'm sure your time is far too valuable. I enjoyed the work, and maybe your members will see it and hire me for more? If you know anyone who needs a new site, I could use the referrals." Especially if I'll soon be homeless.
"I know people. I put word out. But first, we train. You need confidence."
I needed Derek to call me back. I needed to know why Mother had lied to everyone. I needed this whole nightmare to be over.
But today, I'd settle for confidence.
His style was similar to Derek's, but felt very different. Working with Master Kyoung, with the absence of any physical attraction, should have pulled my mind off of Derek, but instead, it only served as a painful reminder of what I was missing.
Halfway through our hour, Master Kyoung stopped and looked at me. "Your head not in this. You miss your man."
"He's not my man." My chin fell to my chest in emotional defeat. "But yes, I miss him. It's my fault all of this happened. My family's fault. I've ruined everything."
He lifted my chin with his finger. "Nothing ruined. Caterpillar think life is over in cocoon, that darkness means death. Not so. Darkness bring new life. And wings. Caterpillar becomes butterfly and fly away."
While the metaphor resonated with me, I didn't believe this darkness would lead to anything beautiful.
"You no give up hope, young Rose. I know secret things, and I tell you, this darkness not death."
We went back to training, and I tried to stay focused, but his words repeated in my mind with each punch and kick. Could he be right? Was there any hope at all left?
I told Ocean about the conversation when I got home, and she agreed with Mr. Kyoung. "He's a wise man, and he knows Derek. If he says there's hope, I believe him. Oh, and while you were gone, your mother had a fit that you'd left without telling her. I heard her screaming at your dad to keep an eye on you. Apparently, she's telling people that you and I are sorting through our own moral code and trying to decide if this coven is the right fit for us, as if she's graciously allowing us to stay from the goodness of her forgiving heart. Give me a freaking break."
Give me a break, indeed. What was Mother's game?
FOUR
Sympathy in Choice
DEREK
If there were a sympathy in choice
—William Shakespeare, A Midsummer Night's Dream
A GRAY WIND assaulted the window as I stared out at the forest behind our house. Could Dean hear the howling of Mother Nature from wherever his mind had gone?
My younger brother lay motionless on his bed, tubes attached to him to keep nutrition flowing in and waste flowing out. His chest rose and fell on its own, his heart pumping without pause, but the spark of humanity that gave him life had died. Rose had pulled that out of him and destroyed my family in the process.
Rose.
My phone buzzed again, and I turned it off, unable to read her words or hear her voice. It was impossible to imagine that Rose had hurt Dean deliberately and maliciously. I thought of our time together, those long days and longer nights in the cabin, where only we two existed, until fire tore our paradise away from us and ended the life of her dog, who'd saved my life.
That day Rose had ran into a burning building to save us both. She'd risked her life for me, and I knew that somehow, none of this coven mess was her fault, but it didn't change the fact that my brother lay here fighting death because of her.
And that didn't change the fact that I couldn't stop loving her, even though she was the enemy.
So, like a coward, I hid, unable to unify my conflicted heart into the right choice. Walk away, or risk it all for her?
I picked up the book Tammy had left open and began reading where she'd left off. The words didn't register with any meaning, not to me or, likely, to Dean, but I hoped the cadence of my voice would sooth us both.
My mother opened the door and came to stand beside me and listen, her hand on my shoulder.
When I paused, she kissed the top of my head, like she used to do when we were children. "You've always had such a beautiful voice. It's nice to hear you reading Shakespeare again. You give his words so much inflection and depth."
I hadn't even realized what I'd been reading until she mentioned it, so lost was I in my own head.
Tammy, too, joined us, noticing the book in my hand. "It was his favorite. Is. Is his favorite," she corrected, pain flashing across her face. "He likes that the fairies don't make it easy for the humans, but that in the end all is made right."
I turned it over to check the title. A Midsummer's Night Dream. So much miscommunication and confusion that could have been avoided if people had only sat down and talked it through, a running theme in many of Shakespeare's plays.
The parallel was not lost on me, but it didn't make my decision any easier.
I could do nothing until I had Dean back. While he lay frozen in himself so, too, did I.
Once again, eyes closed, I reached for him, feeling my way through the thick mud that locked him away from us. I'd never been the strongest meditator, but my Druid nature and shifting pow
ers had always given me an extra boost, allowing me to connect with others in our pack. But so far, they hadn't helped me, or anyone, reach Dean. His mind and soul stayed closed to us. Hidden. Or gone.
I pulled back and felt a lashing out of consciousness grab hold of me, flooding my mind with barely formed memories and images. In a fraction of a second, everything went black before I could make sense of it, like a dream I knew I'd had, but couldn't remember.
FIVE
Form and Dignity
BLAKE
Love can transpose to form and dignity.
—William Shakespeare, A Midsummer Night's Dream
AS DAWN TORE the night from the world in brilliant shards of oranges and yellows, I did the job expected of me and surveyed the land. In the prison from which I'd been temporarily freed, darkness reigned supreme and constant. We had no sun, no life, no warmth. We lived in the human version of hell, for all intents and purposes, though our condemnation was through no fault of mine. I'd been born there, raised by a society that had become more and more greedy for pain and agony, a vicious cycle begun by those who had cast us aside, and fed by the world they'd made for us.
What humans took for granted on their world, and in their bodies, I exalted in and squeezed every drop of joy from.
I may have been an incubus, feeding on the lust of women as I fucked them, but I knew how to also take in another kind of nourishment from life around me, which was more than I could say for most humans.
After I fixed a broken fence and trimmed a tree that had been damaged from the wind the night before, I locked up the tool shed and considered what I might do next.
