“No. It’s just a really old, creepy manor.” He opened the book. “Why are you asking me this?”
“We can’t fight the Keepers because they wouldn’t fight us alone,” I said.
He looked up. “What?”
“The Keepers have other allies, not just Guardians,” I said. “We serve as their soldiers, and we protect the sacred sites. But the witches rely on wraiths to act as their personal guards.”
“Wraiths?” I could see the fear abruptly born in his eyes.
I nodded. “Shadow guards. They aren’t of this world. The Keepers can summon them at will. Nothing can fight a wraith, and they can be controlled only by Keepers. If, in theory, a Guardian disobeyed an order . . .” My voice quaked. “Or if they knew that I was here with you and this book, a wraith would be dispatched to deal with the situation.”
“I see,” he said slowly. “And you thought there might be wraiths in my uncle’s house?”
“I thought it was possible that Bosque had summoned them to guard you while he was away. But it would be risky; without a Keeper there the wraiths could act unpredictably. You’d be in danger. I was worried.” I twisted my fingers together nervously.
“All right.” He shook his shoulders as if to brush away unpleasant thoughts. “If you’re risking your life, we might as well be sure it’s worth it. Let’s get back to work.”
I threw him a grateful smile. “Deal.”
“I think I may have come across something interesting.” He pulled the Keeper’s text in front of him, flipping to its early pages.
I leaned forward but then stiffened and sat up. My eyes flickered to the tall bookcases that surrounded us.
“What’s wrong?” Shay asked.
I waited and listened. Nothing.
“I thought I heard someone in the stacks.” I shook my head. “Never mind. What did you find?”
“According to the history you’ve learned, when did the Witches’ War begin?”
I frowned. “Before people even recorded history. Like I said, the Keepers are both earthly and divine, much older than the world we know.”
“Not according to the book.” He ran his finger over a passage.
“What?” I straightened.
“According to this text the first battle of the Witches’ War took place in the late Middle Ages, around 1400,” he said.
“That can’t be right,” I said.
“Do you want me to read it?”
I nodded.
He smoothed the page of notes in front of him. “‘Anno Domini 1400: With the Rise of the Harbinger and the quickening of our power began the great schism and trials of our people.’” He paused. “Any of this familiar?”
“Not at all.”
“That’s too bad,” he said, letting the book’s cover fall shut. “I was hoping the Rise of the Harbinger would ring a bell. Sounds intriguing.”
“I have no idea what a harbinger is,” I said. “Or the quickening of power.”
“I’d guess it means the Keepers got their magic in 1400.”
“That doesn’t make any sense.” I turned his notes toward me. “The Keepers didn’t get magic; they’ve always held great power.”
“Unless . . .” He scooted his chair back an inch.
I eyed him warily. “Unless what?”
“Unless the story they told you isn’t true.”
“Why would they make up their own origin story?” I asked.
He looked relieved I hadn’t pounced on him. “I don’t know. You tell me.”
“I have no idea,” I said. “The story I told you is the only one I’ve ever known—that any of us know.”
“I guess there isn’t much to go on from here, then.” He sighed.
I caught the scent a moment before something flickered on the edge of my vision.
“Calla!” Shay shouted, but I’d heard the buzz of the crossbow bolt and tipped over my chair. The bolt lodged in a book spine on the shelf that had been level with my chest a moment earlier. I sprawled on the floor, rolling just in time to see the Searcher taking aim again.
“No!” Shay shouted, jumping on the table and launching himself at the stranger. The Searcher grunted when Shay slammed against him, their entangled bodies tumbling along the floor.
“Shay, don’t! Just get out of here!” I shifted into wolf form, muscles tensed.
“Over here, wolf girl.” I turned to see another Searcher emerge from the stacks, a sword grasped in each hand. The blades flashed as they whirled in a lethal flurry of strokes.
I glanced toward Shay, still locked in combat, and then back at my new adversary. Both of the Searchers were young men, no more than twenty-five, and they seemed to be alone. Even so, they looked deadly: hardened faces, rough with shadows from lack of shaving, tangled nests of hair, and a feverish desperation in their eyes. I backed against the bookcase, snarling.
Shay struggled with the other Searcher. They wrestled on the floor, each straining for the advantage. The Searcher muttered unintelligibly, gritting his teeth as he attempted to overpower Shay, but he didn’t reach for a weapon.
“Come on, kid,” he hissed. “Ease off. I’m not going to hurt you. Just give me a chance to explain. Connor, get over here and give me a hand!”
Shay responded with a fist to the Searcher’s jaw. And then another to his face.
“I’m serious, kid.” The stranger spit blood, voice thick and suddenly nasal, and I guessed Shay had broken his nose. “We’re here to help you.”
“Stop messing around, Ethan, there’s no time to get chatty. Fight back. One blow to the head won’t kill him.” Connor took his eyes off me for a second and I threw myself forward, sliding along the wooden floor beneath the sweep of the sharp blades.
Connor swore, turning to track me, but I raced around the table toward Shay. Ethan threw his arm up so that my jaws locked around his biceps instead of his throat. He shrieked, trying to rip his arm from my mouth, but I dug my fangs in deeper and pulled against him. Shay leapt to his feet and dashed around the other side of the bookcase.
“Get off him, bitch!” Connor shouted.
I jumped away from Ethan when Connor lunged at us. His momentum brought him down hard on top of his companion. Ethan yelled, but the sound cut off as breath whooshed from his lungs.
“Run, Calla!” Shay cried. I bolted to the side and an avalanche of books crashed down on the two Searchers. A rush of air passed through my fur as the shelves smashed against the floor, inches from my body.
I looked up to see Shay standing in front of the next row of stacks. I shifted forms, darted to him, and shook my head when I caught sight of the smirk on his face.
“Are you hurt?” My eyes flicked over him.
“What? No kiss?” He pointed at the motionless pile of books, wood, and Searchers. “I’m a hero.”
“You’re impossible,” I said.
“Just trying to prove I’m as worthy as your wolf boy,” he said. “Let’s get the book and get the hell out of here.”
Shay took two leaps across the jumble, swept the Keeper’s book into his backpack, hooked his arm through the strap of my bag, and hurried back to me.
I gazed at the rubble of books and saw limbs peeking out; one of the Searchers’ fingers twitched.
“I really should kill them,” I murmured.
“I don’t think that would be a great idea,” Shay said, jerking his thumb toward the main area of the library. “We’re about to have an audience.”
“There was a horrible noise a moment ago. It came from back here.” A startled patron appeared from around the corner with the reference librarian in tow.
“Oh my God!” The patron dropped his reading glasses. “Is someone trapped underneath all that?”
“Call 911! Did you two see what happened?” The librarian clutched at her chest and I worried she might be having a heart attack. “Do you know who it is?”
The patron had pulled out a phone but stared at the mound of paperbacks and hardcovers in m
ute disbelief. The librarian snatched the cell from his hand and began punching buttons and muttering. No heart attack, just a drama queen.
“No, ma’am,” Shay said in a serious voice, offering wide, innocent eyes. “We just needed a quiet place to study. It didn’t work out so well.”
I couldn’t stop the smile that pulled at my mouth when I grabbed his hand and we ran from the library.
NINETEEN
BLOOD MOON. SAMHAIN. BLOOD MOON. Samhain. I made my way to class, unable to think of anything else. They were so close now, and I felt less certain than ever about both.
When I walked into Organic Chemistry, Ren flashed a broad smile.
“Lily.”
I couldn’t resist the challenge in his eyes. I aimed a kick at his shin, and he darted out of the way.
As we set up the lab, I glanced at the alpha. “Ren, what do you know about Samhain?”
He put on an overly thoughtful expression and wandered toward me. “Let’s see, it is my birthday and yours. But of course, you already know that.”
I blushed when he stepped behind me, encircling my waist with his arms.
His lips brushed against my ear. “I believe the answer that will not get me in trouble with you is: the happiest day of my life. Or something along those lines. Definitely not the end of my carefree days or when I get a ball and chain. Hmmm, I’m just realizing that I’m going to have to buy you birthday and anniversary presents at the same time. What a pain.”
“Oh, please.” I pushed him off with sharp jabs of my elbows.
His smile remained impish as he sidled back to the table and began to measure tea leaves. I flipped open my workbook.
“So we’re extracting the caffeine from tea?”
“Looks like.” He pulled out a set of scales.
I handed him a beaker and toyed with the pleats of my skirt. The folds kept rippling against my knees in a distracting way. It was one of Naomi’s additions to my wardrobe. I quickly decided that I hated it.
“I was being serious. Samhain. Do you know anything about the rites?”
“Nothing besides the usual stuff,” he said. “Spirit world, veil thins, blah, blah, blah.” I ignored his wink. “But my father did say it’s a dangerous night, that spirits are unpredictable when they have so much power.”
I shuddered, wondering what sort of spirits might be present at the union.
He reached for the calcium carbonate.
“It was the day my mother died,” he said quietly.
I froze in the midst of my attempt to light the Bunsen burner. Ren remained focused on the lab. Other than the tightening of his jaw, he gave no indication of distress.
“Your mother was killed on Samhain?” I breathed the question, thunderstruck. I had no idea that our union had been arranged to take place on the anniversary of Corinne Laroche’s murder.
He kept his eyes on the scales. “It was a Searcher ambush . . . You know the story. An attack that successful hasn’t occurred since.”
I did know the story; all the young wolves did. It was the stuff of legends. The Searchers had attacked the Bane compound on the west side of the mountain. The ambush had occurred before dawn, while Corinne was home alone with her infant son. Several Bane Guardians, including Ren’s mother, had been killed before the Keepers realized what was happening. The counter-assault against the Searchers had been brutal: the Keepers waged a sixmonth campaign to seek out and destroy the insurgents, who they’d discovered in various camps near Boulder. Before the incident outside Eden had occurred, the Searchers’ blow against the Banes had been the last major attack in the region.
I felt goose bumps rising on my arms.
Ren glanced at me and smiled when he saw I was shivering. “It’s all right, Calla. I barely remember her. And my job is to kill the people who took her away. Not a bad deal. That’s justice, in a way.”
I bit my lip, waiting for him to continue.
“Why are you trying to ruin the big surprise?” His lighthearted tone surprised me. “I thought you were a fan of the Keepers’ rules.”
“It would be nice to know something about what we’re supposed to do,” I muttered.
He pointed at the Bunsen burner. “Are you going to light that? We have to heat this for twenty minutes”—he looked down at his workbook—“while stirring.”
“Yeah. Sorry.” I grabbed the lighter, hurrying to start the flame.
“Do you want to stir?” He placed the beaker over the wire gauze.
“Sure,” I said. He handed me a glass rod.
Stirring proved rather dull. I sighed, leaning against the lab station. Ren reached out to catch one of the many pleats of my skirt between his fingertips.
“This skirt kind of looks like an accordion.” He laughed. “Not that it isn’t lovely on you.”
“Thanks,” I replied drily. “I believe they are actually called ‘accordion pleats.’ At least that’s what my mother tells me.”
“So I’ve been thinking about how we’re supposed to be officially dating now.”
“What about it?”
“Would you like to have dinner with me?”
“You mean go on a date?” I focused on stirring instead of my suddenly racing heart. “When?”
“Before the union. Have dinner with me and I’ll take you to Blood Moon for a couple of hours until it’s time for the ceremony.” His fingers moved from the pleats to the hem of my sweater, his hand slipping under the pale blue cashmere to stroke the skin of my lower back.
I gasped, caught his wrist in my fingers, and pulled his hand away from its provocative exploration.
“We are in class,” I hissed at him through clenched teeth.
I glanced around and noticed several pairs of eyes quickly averted. Ashley Rice kept her glare on me. I couldn’t bring myself to look in Shay’s direction.
Grinning, Ren tried to free his hand from my fierce grip. “You’re supposed to be stirring.”
“Behave yourself.” I released his wrist, giving him a final warning pinch before I returned to my task.
“Not likely,” he answered, but contented himself with clasping my free hand. A warm glow spread from my fingers to the crown of my head.
“So would you like to have dinner and go to the ball? I thought it would be nice to have some time alone.” His thumb stroked the back of my hand and my knees buckled.
I cleared my throat. “Alone?”
“Yes,” he said. “I had to live with Dax as a hunting partner after you shot me down. Though I can’t claim the hunt itself was disappointing—he took down a twelve-point buck on his own.”
I raised an eyebrow. “That’s impressive.”
“Definitely,” he said. “All the same, Dax wasn’t the partner I was hoping for. You’ve been so busy taking care of Logan’s boy that I haven’t had any time with you at all.”
“Be nice.”
“I just think we deserve a real date, don’t you?”
“I suppose we do.” I could hear the strain in my own voice; I was already anticipating Shay’s reaction to this development.
“You wouldn’t like that?” The playful note in his voice began to fade.
I fumbled for a response. “No. I mean—yes, I would like to have dinner with you. I’m just surprised. I thought the whole pack would go to the ceremony as a group.”
He leaned toward me, murmuring, “I think one-on-one sounds better, don’t you?”
His teeth gently caught my earlobe. All my muscles turned to liquid. I dropped the stirring rod and grabbed the edge of the table so I wouldn’t collapse.
Ren straightened in alarm. “Are you okay?”
I just nodded, not trusting myself to speak. He smiled, turning back to the workbook. “Okay, what’s next? We’re supposed to have a cheesecloth.
Where’s our cheesecloth?”
He searched the table while I tried to remember how to breathe.
I kept a safe distance from the alpha for the remainder of the lab. He was in a da
ngerously playful mood, and my reactions to his attention were erratic enough that I worried he’d startle me into spilling flammable liquid and igniting our entire station.
When I was walking from class to collect my lunch from my locker, Shay fell into step beside me.
I glanced at him. “Are you walking with me to the cafeteria?”
He kicked a discarded Coke can, sending it clattering down the hallway. “Ren was friendly today, wasn’t he?”
Great. “You don’t have to watch us all through chemistry.”
“I didn’t have to be watching to notice.” He made a disgruntled noise. “He was all over you.”
I blushed. “Ms. Foris didn’t say anything, so I think you’re exaggerating.”
“Ms. Foris would never say anything. She’s terrified of both of you.”
I shrugged. He was absolutely right.
An awkward silence descended as we walked to my locker. I was relieved when Shay finally spoke.
“Do you want to go to a coffee shop or something tonight? I assume the library is out.”
“Definitely out,” I said. “But I can’t get coffee.”
“Why not?”
“My mother is having a thing,” I mumbled. “Some union stuff I have to do.”
“Oh.” He leaned against the locker next to mine while I hunted for my lunch. “What kind of stuff?”
I wanted to crawl inside my locker and hide. “Girl stuff.”
“Sounds enthralling,” I heard him say, though I’d buried my head in my jacket.
I stopped imitating a frightened ostrich and grabbed my lunch bag. “Okay. Let’s go eat.”
Shay strolled alongside me, humming “Here Comes the Bride,” until I punched him in the kidney.
TWENTY
“OW!” I JERKED AWAY FROM SABINE’S PINFILLED fingers. It was the third time she’d stuck me and I was convinced she was doing it on purpose.
“Sorry,” Sabine said, not sounding sorry at all.
“Calla, you must keep still,” my mother muttered. “Sabine, be more careful.”
“Yes, Naomi,” she replied, bowing her head, but I saw her smirk. If I hadn’t been weighed down by fabric, I would have kicked her.
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