by Jordan Deen
“It’s not what you think,” I said, but it was utterly useless. Brandon was on top of Alex in less than a second. History had a funny way of repeating itself, and I was determined not to end up bruised and battered like last time.
c h a p t e r
TWENTY-TWO
Catch and Brea continued to shout outside. Their shrill, incoherent voices were mixed with my own, and the grunting and groaning of the two adolescents wrestling on the floor.
“Brandon. Stop,” I demanded, but neither heard me. “Brandon, why doesn’t he smell?” I asked, being the voice of reason. They finally stopped.
Brandon grasped Alex’s forearm and yanked his hand back quickly. “What’s going on here? Is this more of Sophie’s tricks?”
“I haven’t seen Sophie since the night at Lacey’s house when I turned my back on her. She sent her goons to find me several times, but I’ve avoided them.”
“You know we’re bonded, right?” Brandon leaned forward to gloat. I didn’t like it. He didn’t need to rub that in Alex’s face right now, not with so many other issues that needed to be addressed.
“Brandon, enough. Alex, what about Matt? Do you know what happened to him?”
Alex stepped back from Brandon, uncomfortable with the proximity to my mate. “I don’t know what happened to Matt.”
“What about Liam? Do you know anything about him?” Brandon took over the questioning.
“I’ve heard of him, but don’t personally know him. He’s the guy that used to be an Amana right?”
“Yeah,” Brandon started, but shrill screeching outside stopped the conversation.
“Are you sure you’re alone?” I looked toward the front door.
“I know I’m alone. I snuck out to come here.” He started towards the front door, but Brandon grabbed his shoulder.
“You are either with us, or against us. I have to know what side you are on.”
Alex carefully examined Brandon’s hand, and then, every contour of my face. The longing he held for me hurt, but the feelings for him were gone like they never existed. “Alex, we’ll help you,” I whispered, and felt every muscle in Brandon’s body contract simultaneously.
“I’m with you,” Alex said and images rushed from Brandon to me of the night he watched me drunk and the several times he watched me get into Alex’s car when I dated him in high school.
I pushed out his images and mentally argued back by flooding his mind with Haventon, the movie theater, the craving I had for him in the bathroom of the diner, and then, the night we spent in his bedroom. There’d be no way I’d risk any of that, any of our eternity, for anything with Alex… it couldn’t happen. The marks we bore were too great, too strong, and too undeniable.
“Fine,” Brandon said reluctantly. “Catch and Brea and us, we are it. There is no one else coming to help. Can you still transform?”
Alex gave him a cocky smile. “Yeah, I think I remember how to do that.”
“Well, if you’re not up to it,” Brandon replied just as cocky.
“Enough boys. Don’t you think we should get out there to help them?”
“You aren’t going anywhere,” Alex said possessively.
“She can do what she wants,” Brandon said.
“I’m right here. I think I can speak for myself.” I pushed a space between them. “I’m going. And Alex, there are some things I need to tell you, but not right now.”
“You can already transform, huh?”
“No, not exactly.” Not, at least, in the way he thought. But I couldn’t explain all that to him. Where would I start? “It’s a really long story.”
We rushed out to the main area to see Catch and Brea, both in wolf form, surrounded by five imposing black wolves like the one from my dreams. My head pounded.
Brandon pushed me backward, away from the other wolves. “Go back in the house, lock yourself in the closet, and do your spell.” He hastily turned from me.
“But…,”
“No, no buts. Get to it. I need you fast and agile now. You’re an easy target like this,” Brandon said and longed to be anywhere but here. This was the worst idea… ever. I talked them all into it and put everyone in danger.
Brandon embraced me for less than a second before he pushed me, with full force, towards the steps and into the house. Then I realized I hadn’t planned ahead. I had nothing to do the spell with. No oil, no candles, nothing. I rushed to the kitchen and found a white candle and a blue one, but no orange and no oils. I trekked back upstairs to try to find the supplies I needed. I hoped Mom had a secret stash just for emergencies.
I took the stairs—two at a time—my arms pumped with the candles in one hand and the lighter in the other. The noise from the wolves outside intensified, then muffled again, as I got to the back of the house. It wouldn’t be long and I’d either be running or fighting for my life.
I rummaged through all the drawers, clothes—everything, trying to find the orange candle and oil I needed. I had almost given up when the bathroom cabinets caught my attention. If Mom were anything like me, that’d be where she’d hide it. A place she could lock herself away and work her spells uninterrupted.
Nestled atop the cabinet above the toilet was a small leather bound satchel. Inside, there were not only one or two candles, but a complete set of thin two inch candles, a small knife, a file, oils, a small vial of water, little packets of herbs, and a few roots. Inside the flap cover were small slips of torn paper with indecipherable words written on each. The frayed edges looked like a puzzle, just waiting to be put back together.
“Thank you, Mom,” I said and pressed the tool kit against my face to breathe in its leathery goodness.
The white, blue, and orange were the only candles I needed, so I slipped the rest back into the little baggie they were in and carefully put the kit back together. It would garner further inspection later, so I wanted it just the way Emma had left it—perfectly organized and ready for further use.
Anointing each of the candles, I twisted my fingers around the small cylinders then slightly burnt the bottoms of each to stand them on the cold countertop. With each candle prepared, I stuck the kit into a small plastic bag I found under in the cabinet under the sink. It wouldn’t be ideal to transport my new treasure that way, but I had no other choice and I refused to leave something so valuable in a war zone.
Pounding on the door stilled my ceremony, and every one of my organs. Feet shifted just to the other side of the only exit. I quietly blew out each of the candles; shifting was out of the question. Whoever was on the other side of the door wouldn’t let me escape in wolf form; although, it probably would have been a good idea because I’d be faster and more agile as Brandon said.
“Lacey?” A girl’s voice whispered to the underside of the door. “Are you in there?”
She was quiet, but her voice was unmistakable. “Bailey?” I said quietly in return. How could they have already gotten here?
“Yeah, Emile sent me. Open the door.” She twisted the knob, and I hesitated, why wouldn’t Brea or Emile come to get me instead?
“Where’s Brandon?” I asked through the thin wood and stepped back when she paused before answering.
“He’s outside. We don’t have time for this. We have to go.” She jiggled the bronzed handle again and my breathing hitched. Bailey never did seem right and her insistence to help seemed misplaced.
“Where’s Brea?”
“Lacey, open the door,” she said, annoyed. “We need to get you out of here. Serena is downstairs. Do you want me to go get her?”
“Lacey?” Serena’s voice sounded like it came from the other side of my parents’ bedroom. Reluctantly, I pulled open the door to see Bailey’s angry face and Serena’s exhausted one. “We don’t have much time. Liam and Robert are here. Michael and Brandon are holding them off. They are after you.”
“Look,” I said holding out my mother’s kit. “I found this and we found some other things.” Then I wished I wouldn’t have said th
at in front of Bailey, she may not be aligned with the enemies, but she definitely wasn’t for me either.
“Wow, an old leather piece of crap. Great. I’m glad you risked all of our lives for that.”
“Bailey, why don’t you go down and help Emile.”
“But…” Bailey started to protest, but Serena threw up her hand.
“I need to speak with Lacey, and Emile needs your assistance.”
Bailey stalked out of the room; her heavy stomping down the stairs echoed back up the narrowed hallway. No, she wasn’t really an enemy. I tried to remind myself, but her smart-ass comments were getting old. She didn’t know the importance of the letters, this camp, or the kit.
Serena glared down at me. “When did you plan on telling me you had Emma’s book?” Dealing with Bailey would have been better than the spine-breaking force behind her eyes. “Do you realize how stupid it was for you to return here? To come back to where you were taken?”
“Yes, but you don’t understand.” The painful shift in our relationship from strangers to relatives filled the room. I disappointed her and there seemed to be more at stake knowing that part of her blood coursed through my veins. She knew I had the book, knew I could shift, and knew I lied to her about it all. Somehow, turn about didn’t seem like such fair play, not with the stakes being so much higher than before. Bonding with Brandon was the least of our troubles, not the biggest.
“You’re right. I don’t understand how you’ve kept this from me. We’ve tried to guide you to understanding and you’ve rejected even the smallest bits of information from us… yet, when it’s on your own terms, you decide to jump in with both feet and totally disregard the dangers?”
“I was tired of feeling powerless and alone. It didn’t feel like anyone was telling me the truth.”
“Lacey, we didn’t even know what the truth was. The only thing we knew was Brandon was mated to you at infancy, but we find you and there seemed to be nothing between you. We knew you were bewitched, but didn’t know by whom or how powerful they were. I’m not a full witch, and I’m no match for one, so I couldn’t answer those questions. Part of the time Brandon searched for you, I searched for another witch to guide us and strengthen us.”
I held up my mother’s kit. “Well, looks like you found a hybrid-werewolf witch. I guess I’m it?”
“Have you spoken to your mother again?” she asked out of left field and I glanced around the room, almost expecting for her to miraculously step out of the shadows.
“No, I haven’t seen her again.”
“We need to find a way to summon her. We need Alaina and Galena’s books to regain control and stop the fighting.”
“Serena?” Emile said quietly from the doorway. “We must go now. It’s no longer safe here.”
I tossed Serena my bag of newfound goodies. “Will you pick these candles up after I’m gone?” I asked, but pounding and the sounds of boards breaking downstairs caused Emile to rush into the room and slam the door behind her.
“I don’t think there is time for that,” Serena said. I grabbed the candles from the bathroom counter and shoved them half-hazard into my pocket.
“This brings back memories,” Emile said and threw open the bedroom window. “Thank goodness Gregory planned ahead.” Outside the window was a sloped awning with a sturdy trellis for us to climb down. The weeds and moss had grown over the smooth white boards, making each step more uneasy and slippery than the last. My foot slid several times and Emile caught it to steady me.
Ava and Bailey waited for us just beyond the last cabin with two trucks from our camp. We started to get into the cab, but the howling and the clashing of two titans called our attention away. Michael and another huge black werewolf rolled into our view between two trees. The midnight wolf bore his teeth down onto Michael’s shoulder causing him to growl and snap back at the scruff on his captor’s neck. Thomas quickly jumped into the fray and the three of them tossed and turned in an anger filled tango.
“Go,” Ava said to Bailey and me. “Bailey, get her far from here. We will follow.” For the first time, I watched the beautiful dance of Ava and Emile morph into glistening white wolves.
Without any hesitation, and amidst growls and yelps, we hopped into the cab of the truck to make our escape. Bailey’s hand shook as she tried to get the keys into the ignition. “I can’t do this,” she said and tears started pouring down her face. Werewolf battles were old news to me after watching Michael, Brandon, and Matt fight Gavin and Sophie at my fake parents’ house. Compared to that, this was a breeze. At least, I didn’t have to watch Brandon and Alex going at it, since we were on the same team… or at least, I hoped we finally were. If the two of them were concentrating on each other, instead of the fight, one of them would be hurt.
“Move.” I grabbed her wrist that held the keys and yanked her to the opposite side of the truck. She was in no shape to drive, and really, I couldn’t trust her taking me anywhere. If we were going to get out of there alive, it would take fast thinking, good instincts and skill… I may not have possessed all of those things, but I’d fake it for all our sakes. “It’s going to be fine.”
c h a p t e r
TWENTY-THREE
With the forsaken camp no longer glaring at me in the rear-view mirror, I sent images to Brandon of Bailey and I climbing into the truck and driving down the winding road. He needed to know that I was safe and out of harm's way. Brandon needed to be in the fight, not searching for me or wondering if I was able to shift.
Bailey and I were vulnerable in human form, but regardless of how much I despised her, I wouldn’t leave her alone. Her silent tears and shaking frame showed me exactly how terrified she was. I didn’t blame her. She never knew what she signed on for when she agreed to come with the Amana’s to protect me, the only true ‘human’ of the entire camp.
“What are we going to do?” The words vibrated with each tremble of her lips. She tried in vain to steady her hands against her faded jeans. The iridescent green light of the stereo buttons illuminated her pasty skin, making her look almost ghostly in the seat next to me. Just last year, I was her, trembling and horrified driving a truck into the unknown with Lily and my new family at my side. I left everything behind for this life, for these people.
“We have to go back.” I eased the truck to the shoulder of the mountain road. Brandon hadn’t given me any indication of what was going on or that he was okay. He didn’t even acknowledge the images I sent him of my escape. Something had to be wrong.
“We can’t,” Bailey said and grasped the door handle like it would provide her strength. “I won’t let you!”
“Bailey, that is our family back there. We have to go back and help them.”
“We can’t help them. I’m not even mated yet. I can’t transform like you can.”
Then it occurred to me. If I could shift under the spell, maybe she could too. Or maybe I could make her shift. “Look, I can only turn by doing a spell. Maybe it will work on you.”
“What?” Bailey looked at me with worry and fear in her eyes; the moon reflecting off the windshield made her look like a deer in the headlights. “That’s not possible. If Serena could force people to transform, she would’ve done it long ago.”
“That’s not what I’m saying.” I pulled out the plastic bag from the backseat. “Come on.” I turned off the truck, and before she could protest, climbed from the seat and out onto the road. She stared at me through the windshield as the headlights from the truck illuminated my hasty preparation. Bailey didn’t budge; terror kept her trapped in the truck. Just for luck, I anointed the candles again and set each on the hood. “I’m ready,” I said and scanned the darken woods. “We don’t have much time.”
Losing my patience, I went to the side of the truck and yanked open the passenger door. She leaned away from my grasp and kicked at the door and me. After she kicked me several times on my arms, and once in my shoulder, I finally gained control, and stalled her legs by pinning them against
the seat.
I thought she’d stop once her legs were disabled, but I was wrong. She started smacking me, and in return, I smacked back. For the next several moments, the two of us fought, like typical girls, smacking and whacking each other’s hands and arms. There seemed to be no end to the chaos as she leaned forward and back several times to change the length and speed of her blows. My skin stung and turned red from each of her bee-sting taps.
“Stop! Stop!” I finally yelled and distanced myself from her legs and the door of the truck. In the moonlight, the large welted knots on my forearms and biceps resembled giant chickenpox in serious need of ointment. “Look,” I started rubbing at my itching, irritated skin. “You know I need to go help them. It’s my destiny to stop the warring.”
“Maybe you aren’t supposed to stop it,” she said and pushed her feet against the door to climb into the driver’s seat of the truck. This would go badly if she drove away and left me here, especially since my kit was still sitting on the hood of the vehicle.
“How can you say that? You’ve grown up knowing of the prophecy about me.”
“I just don’t see why you are worth all of this. There were other ways to get Half Moon back. You were just the easiest.” She threw the truck into drive. She would leave me in the woods to fend for myself.
“No!” I lurched towards the door, but it was too late. My candles and kit fell under the truck as it roared back onto the road. I scrambled to pick up each item I would need and shoved everything back into the bag. Bailey had been my biggest problem at camp, but I never dreamed she’d abandon me.
“Shit,” I said when I picked up the orange candle and realized it was cracked and the wick was beneath the surface. I’d have to dig at it to get it out without completely mangling it. If I couldn’t shift, it would be a very long walk to anywhere.
The taillights of the truck flashed then glowed crimson in the distance, sending the signal something was vastly wrong. That signal came long before the squealing of the tires and the bed of the truck fishtailing out of control.
