Bitterroot, Part 2

by Heather Hildenbrand

  I couldn’t imagine.

  “I guess so,” Charlie said, staring down at her toes as we walked. “You’re a lot more prepared for what’s coming, though. I’m … not sure I’m cut out,” she admitted.

  I pulled her to a stop and looked her square in the eye among the dusty, forgotten trinkets of Paradise residents past. “The fact that you’re here, sticking through it, willing to try—that makes you braver than half the people I know,” I said.

  “And bravery … that counts?” she asked.

  I squeezed her arm. “That’s what matters most.”

  Charlie and I shared a smile and something passed between us. Understanding? Loyalty? Some form of bond I’d never felt before, that was for certain. It transcended friendship and something told me it didn’t herald the end of our tension for good, but it was enough. For now. And it made me glad I’d brought her here today.

  We went back to exploring, splitting off inside the next shop with Charlie on one side of the aisle and me on another. I wandered with half a mind to find some small gift for Charlie to commemorate today’s outing. I picked up a china serving dish with enough dust to write my name in and admired the tiny swirling pattern that looked from far away like small Vs painted in blue. I frowned and put it back, uncertain whether Charlie would want something that represented the Vuk name.

  Very soon, we wouldn’t share that anymore. One of us would be a Rossi.

  Instead of dwelling on the impending wedding that would change my entire life as I knew it, I concentrated on finding the perfect gift for my new sister. Something that would make today’s memory pleasant no matter what happened tomorrow.

  I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, inhaling the history of all the old furniture. The antique store smelled old, like moth balls and dust and cleaning fluid. The silver cups in the cabinet smelled like they used to live with a smoker. The typewriter next to the glass-eyed doll in the window had lived with cats. And underneath it all, there was a faint, musty smell of something ancient and powerful. Vampires.

  My eyes flew wide. Vampires?

  “Hey, Charlie,” I called. She looked up from pawing through a box of little wind-up toys. “Do you smell anything funny?” I called out in a careful voice.

  She sniffed. “Not unless dust is hilarious. Why?”

  “Never mind.” I didn't want to worry her. Maybe the vampires liked to sell their old stuff at the antique mall. I could only imagine—their houses were probably filled with useless old crap.

  I tried to occupy myself by looking for something interesting, but I couldn’t shake the scent of vamps on everything. An old rocking chair drew me but I stopped short when I saw what had been placed on the wooden seat. Three old dolls stared back at me with half-lidded eyes. Their red-painted smiles creeped me out. Fortunately, Charlie seemed to sense my discomfort, and she sped up her pace. She picked out a couple little paintings of cats, which looked totally bizarre and quirky.

  “Cats?” I asked.

  “I'm getting them for the frames. I think they match my room up at the house.”

  The thought of Charlie getting settled into her room meant that she was going to be around for a while—even after the competition. It meant a lot more trips to antique stores together. I smiled to myself.

  We moved onto the third shop, which had more housewares and a department for antique clothing in the back. There were even actual poodle skirts. I sniffed over and over but the rotten scent from the earlier shop was gone. Maybe vamps really did believe in donating their unused.

  “Want to look at the skirts?” I asked.

  “Secondhand clothes,” Charlie said, wrinkling her nose. “I would have to bleach them before I could wear anything. Can you imagine walking around in someone else's smell all day?”

  “No,” I admitted. “I’d probably keep startling myself, thinking there was an intruder nearby.”

  Charlie laughed and I felt my mood lighten a little more.

  I kept wandering as Charlie moved farther back in the racks. I turned a corner, losing sight of her, and stopped mid-stride. There it was again: the distinct smell of vampire.

  I dug around in the clothing bin nearest me, seeking out the source.

  I found a lot of weird things, including bell bottoms and a knit sweater that looked like they belonged in the seventies, but no vampires. Or anything that smelled like vampires, for that matter. In fact, the farther I went this way, the fainter the scent became.

  “What are you doing?”

  I glanced up to see Charlie staring at me over a rack of clothes. She was holding a vintage skirt and looking at me like I might have gone crazy.

  “I think I smell a vampire,” I finally admitted. “It's bugging me. Can't you smell it?”

  Her eyes went wide, and her cheeks reddened. She edged away from me. “No. I don’t smell anything. Why would there be vampire smell at an antique shop?”

  Poor thing must have been scared.

  “Don't worry. It's a weak smell, so it's not like they're here. I thought maybe they could have donated something, and I'm picking up—” Motion outside the window caught my attention, and I trailed off as I turned. I looked over in time to see someone's retreating back as they headed across the street. Someone with dark hair, a dark shirt, broad shoulders. Nobody normal—or alive—dressed in dark colors like that in the summer. Or moved quite so fluidly.

  “Wait here, Charlie.”

  I threw the bellbottoms back on the rack and took off at a run for the front of the store. I burst out the door and blinked viciously into the sunlight.

  By the time my eyes adjusted, the street was empty of any vampires. I whirled, scanning the rooftops for him, but he was gone.

  Charlie came up behind me, out of breath. “I don't see any vampires,” she said.

  “One of them was here. I saw it.” I hurried to the corner. There were plenty of humans out enjoying the beautiful day in Paradise, and they milled around completely unaware of the predators in their midst.

  A pair of familiar faces appeared at the end of the street. Bevin and Lane were doing the same thing I was—staring at rooftops, peering down alleys, and glaring at every human who passed. I made my way toward them, glancing in every direction. Charlie trailed behind without a word. Our path intersected theirs in front of an ice cream shop.

  “You smell it, too?” Bevin asked. I nodded. “We tracked it all the way from the forest by our neighborhood. The trail was strong up until here. Now it's gone cold.”

  “Following us,” I muttered.

  “Why would a vampire follow us?” Charlie asked. She was even redder than before.

  Lane huffed out her lips and rolled her eyes. “Maybe it’s another of your admirers,” she said.

  “Hey,” I said sharply.

  Bevin nudged Lane. I wasn't sure what that warning glance meant, but I didn't think it was a friendly look on Bevin's part. It wasn't like she was defending Charlie. It was more like she was saying, “Don't bother around Regan.”

  “Whoever it was, they’re gone now,” Charlie said, standing up a little straighter. She had caught on to that little silent exchange and now she seemed offended.

  “We'll head into the woods. See if we pick up anything else.” Bevin addressed me directly. “You can go back to ... whatever you were doing.” Her gaze sliced over to Charlie and I made a point to turn as if cutting them out of the conversation.

  “Hey, Charlie, didn't you want to get ice cream or something?” I asked in an overly friendly voice. Bevin was not going to ruin this day for me.

  She looked startled at the change in subject. “Yeah, but shouldn't we—?”

  “Why don't you meet me inside the ice cream shop? I'll be there in a few minutes.” I tried, and failed, to give her a smile. She squinted at me for a moment, getting that same line between her eyebrows that Dad did when he was thinking too hard.

  “Okay,” she said slowly. “I'll be inside.”

  I waited until she stepped into the i
ce cream shop before rounding on Bevin and Lane again, snapping my fingers. “Lane. You too."

  “What?” She looked at Charlie’s retreating figure in confusion. “Are you asking me to get ice cream too?” she asked.

  I rolled my eyes. “No. I'm telling you to get out of here. I need to talk to Bevin alone.”

  With a scowl, she broke into a jog, loped across the street, and disappeared around a corner.

  “What's your problem?” Bevin demanded when we were alone. A woman passing us on the sidewalk gave us a sideways glance. I waited until she kept walking and even then I yanked Bevin against the building and lowered my voice.

  “You can't treat Charlie like that,” I said.

  “Like what?”

  “Like she's a stain you can't get out of your shirt.” I folded my arms, stretching to my full height to stare down at her. I was maybe a half an inch taller, but I could be imposing when I wanted to. And I definitely wanted to. “She's going to be beta. You don't have to like her, but she's going to be ranked above almost everyone. Including you. You have to get used to her.”

  “I don't know why I have to listen to anyone but you,” Bevin muttered, sullenly staring out at the street full of very human pedestrians.

  I decided not to point out the alternative would have been taking orders from her brother—something she would have hated just as much. “You don't have to get it. You just have to do it. Do you understand?” I stared at her until she nodded. “Good. Now tell me about the vampire. What did it look like?”

  She shrugged. “I only glanced from far away. I’m guessing around six foot. Black hair, white skin. So, like about eighty percent of those guys.”

  I ignored her last comment, biting on my lip as I considered it. The description fit the same guy I saw, which was a relief—at least there weren't two chasing us around. “Are you sure it was alone? No bodyguard?”

  “Not that I saw.” Her eyes widened. “What, you think a member of the royal family would be stalking you?”

  “I guess not,” I admitted, feeling silly. “But I'm sure it was a spy. Keep an eye out. We need to run patrols extra tight and make sure we're keeping the forests around our neighborhood clear.”

  Bevin nodded. “Should I stick around? Keep an eye out for you?”

  “No. It's okay. I'm watching Charlie; she'll be safe.”

  She glanced over my shoulder, already headed toward the alley where Lane had gone. “Yeah. Okay. Have fun.”

  I could tell by that dry tone in her voice that we weren't going to be alone no matter what I said.

  Bevin disappeared and I turned to see Charlie standing in the now open door of the ice cream shop. She had a cone in each hand, and one of them was pecan flavored. My favorite, although I had no idea how she’d known.

  I reached for it, but she held it away. Anger flashed in her eyes. “Is that true? Do you really think it's a given that I'm going to be beta?” she demanded.

  I winced. “I didn't know you were listening.”

  “And I’m safe because I’m with you?” she went on, her voice rising. In her hands, the ice cream cones were beginning to drip, but she ignored them. “Do you think I need to be ... babysat? I can take care of myself!”

  I held up my hands to try to calm her down. “Look, why don't we head back to the antique mall? We can—”

  “No, thanks. I've had all the trash thrown at me I can handle for one day.” She shoved the pecan cone at me. “Enjoy your ice cream.”

  Charlie tossed hers in the trash outside the shop and stormed down the street. She radiated such fury that even the humans turned to watch her pass. I didn’t move to stop her. I knew better. She had taken on the look of the Vuk temper—the red cheeks, the pinched lips, and the sense of being ten feet tall. There would be no reasoning with her now.

  All I could do was watch helplessly as she ran away.

  At least the pecan ice cream was good.

  Chapter Six

  Charlie

  The morning air felt cold against my bare arms. My eyelids drooped with the lack of caffeine. It was entirely too early to be awake. It might’ve been okay if I was headed to high school as I knew it. But this wasn’t Hunters Point High School in Portland. This was Paradise. And I was headed to my first day of home-schooling in the middle of the woods with a class full of werewolves.

  Branches slid across my thighs, leaving scratches as I pushed through the thicket. I ignored them, still not fully awake enough to walk and brush them aside at the same time.

  “Hey, Charlie.” Carter veered over and fell into step beside me.

  A few steps ahead, some of the other kids walked in twos and threes, whispering—probably about me. That was fine. But one of them talking to me—I hadn’t expected that. In the wake of my disaster shopping trip yesterday, Carter’s friendliness only put me more on edge.

  “Morning,” I mumbled, darting a worried glance.

  Carter had his hands in his pockets, like he wasn’t sure what to do next.

  “How are … things?” he asked.

  “Um.” Things? What things? And why was he talking to me? So far, he’d kept his distance, other than that first trip we’d taken into town when he’d complained right in front of me that his beta role had been stolen from him by an undeserving newbie. I was pretty sure that meant we weren’t friends. “Good, I guess.”

  Was he here because Regan had finally figured out my secret? I’d been up half the night worried that she’d put two and two together. After smelling a vamp yesterday while we shopped and Bevin’s accusations about Owen and me, I was positive she’d figure it all out given enough time. Regan was a lot of things, but she wasn’t stupid.

  Carter cleared his throat and my stomach tightened. “Listen, I wanted to talk to you. There’s something that—”

  “What is new girl doing here?” Bevin, Carter’s sister, appeared, along with Lane, the girl with the scar on her face. Neither one looked happy to see me.

  “She’s in our class now, Bev,” Carter said.

  “Can’t we get her a different teacher?” Lane asked. Her eyes were bloodshot as they roamed over me. “That’s what they do for special needs kids, right? They separate them?”

  “Shut up, Lane,” Carter snapped. I blinked, unsure why he’d spoken up for me. Was he taking my side?

  “Whatever,” Bevin mumbled, rolling her eyes.

  The trail opened up into a small clearing. Everyone else was already gathered—including Regan. I didn’t meet her eyes.

  At the head of the crowd gathered, Dad stood dressed in faded Dickies and a flannel shirt. Between that and his peppery five o’clock shadow he looked every bit the stereotypical mountain man. He looked from face to face and cleared his throat.

  “Now that we’re all here,” he began. “Let’s get started. For those of you that used the break as time to forget everything we’ve learned, today will be review. For others,” he paused, his eyes flickering to me, “it might be more of a challenge.”

  Some mutters went up, mostly under the cover of a cough or behind a hand. Still, Dad’s sharp eyes pierced the guilty parties before continuing.

  “Today we are hunting. You’ll work in pairs, but I don’t want to hear that your hunting partner hindered your catch. Bring me the biggest game you can find. The winner is excused from PT.”

  A few of the guys hooted and slapped a high-five with their neighbor. The girls didn’t seem as excited but they looked determined to win. No one wanted to PT, it seemed.

  “What’s PT?” I whispered to Carter.

  “Physical training,” he whispered back without looking over.

  He was frowning and I followed his gaze, curious what had him so distracted. He stared at Regan like he was keeping a secret—from her or for her, I didn’t know.

  Across the loose circle, Regan shifted her feet, completely unaware of whatever mental energy Carter was streaming at her. She stared at our dad with a mixture of determination and concentration. Her wolf seemed t
o shimmer at the edges of her skin, like she was anxious to shift.

  “Pair up,” Dad instructed. Carter moved away, going to stand beside another boy around his age. Ronnie, someone had called him. Bevin and Lane took a small step toward each other. One by one, everyone claimed a partner. No one moved toward me.

  I gulped and lifted a shaky arm. Dad’s eyes found my hand.

  “Yes, Charlie, what is it?”

  Everyone turned to me. Silence fell. I swallowed against the lump in my throat. I was mortified to be calling out like this in front of everyone, but I had to know. “Um, when you say ‘game’…?”

  “You will be hunting live prey. And you will kill it and bring it to me,” he said.

  I nodded, my worst fears confirmed. Someone snickered. I was pretty sure it was Bevin, but I didn’t look. I knew if I did, I’d lose it. I was shaking as it was. Live game? And they wanted me to kill it? My horror must’ve shown through. Dad regarded me with a hard look and then turned to Regan.

  “Go with your sister,” Dad barked.

  Regan’s face registered disappointment, resignation—but not surprise. “Yes, sir.”

  “Get going. Bring your catch back here. You have one hour.” Dad waved everyone away.

  Regan walked up to me, her shoulders missing the determined set they’d held before. “You ready?” she asked.

  I nodded, trying to appear confident, unruffled. “Yeah, sure.”

  Regan led me away from the clearing, back into the sunlight that shone on the hill below our house. She cut across the grass, heading for the road.

  “Um, aren’t we supposed to be hunting? I think all of the animals are probably in the woods, back there.” I hooked a thumb behind us.

  “The woods on this side are better for it,” she explained without looking back. I hurried to keep up. “I’ve been sniffing out a buck and his mate for weeks on my morning run.”