Forgotten (In The Shadows, Book One)

by Catherine Gardiner

  Suzanne felt her stomach tighten and tried to swallow a lump that had formed in her throat. She hated it when Marcus was in a bad mood. He became so unpredictable, so dangerous. The last time Suzanne had seen his darker side was when he had almost broken Starr’s neck with his bare hands, and that had scared her. And though she had heard rumors of his temper over the past two hundred years, she had never been on the receiving end – until now.

  Suzanne squeezed her eyes shut and waited for Marcus’ temper to erupt, but nothing came. She opened her eyes to find Marcus was still stood over her, with his arms folded across his chest. His face had softened slightly, and a slight smile touched his lips.

  “Are you mad at me?” Suzanne nervously looked at the ground, unsure of Marcus’ reaction.

  “No, not mad.” Marcus paused. “I’m just disappointed with you. I thought you had more sense than to jeopardize your recovery by taking moonlit jaunts.”

  “Marcus, I was going stir crazy cooped up in that room,” Suzanne answered. “You can only watch the same movies seven times before you need to get some more. Besides, Flopsey needed something to drink so I took him back to his hutch and decided that, while I was outside anyway, I might as well stretch my legs.”

  “It was for your own good.” Marcus started to rub his temples. “Does Jonathan know you’re out?”

  “It depends!” Suzanne replied evasively.

  Marcus raised his eyebrows. “On what?”

  “Well, I don’t think he was in. The house was dark and the back door was unlocked.”

  “He wasn’t there?” Marcus shouted.

  “Erm, yeah. As I said before, the house was dark,” Suzanne repeated.

  “And you didn’t think that was important?” Marcus boomed, punching a nearby headstone with his fist.

  Suzanne looked away from Marcus. “I’m sorry.”

  “Suzanne, you don’t have to apologize to him,” Emily interrupted.

  “Stay out of this!” Marcus snapped, swinging around to glare at her.

  “No, I won’t stay out of this, Marcus! Blaming Suzanne and giving her a hard time won’t help! I’m sick of being frozen out by you whenever I say something you don’t want to hear, and I’ve had enough of being dragged to places like this without even an explanation when you know that what I really wanted to be doing was taking care of Suzanne!”

  Marcus put his hands in his pockets and stalked off in the direction of the cemetery’s parking lot, muttering to himself.

  Suzanne looked up at Emily. “This is all my fault and now Marcus hates me. I should have just stayed at home and gone crazy.”

  “You’re not responsible for Marcus’ moods,” Emily reassured her, “and it’s not your fault that Marcus is a hyper-serious jerk with no sense of humor.”

  “But …”

  “Come on. Let’s go home and I’ll make you a hot chocolate.”

  *

  “Katrina, are you okay? You seem distant,” Jessica inquired, as both she and Katrina walked across the mall’s parking lot toward her Jeep.

  Katrina smiled. “I’m sorry, Jess. I was miles away. Did you say something?”

  Jessica rolled her sapphire-blue eyes and brushed loose strands of her long blonde hair away from her face. “I asked if you were okay.”

  “Yeah, I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “Well, you haven’t really said anything all afternoon. There isn’t anything troubling you?”

  Katrina sighed, “I’ve being thinking about that girl from the school’s cafeteria that I bumped into. I hope that she’s okay. There were rumors she had an accident.”

  “Do you know her?”

  “That’s the odd thing. I have this strange feeling that I do.”

  “From before you were attacked?”

  “Yeah, I think so. And that’s not all; there’s something she said to me that doesn’t make sense.”

  “What’s that?” Jessica asked, unlocking the car door.

  “I didn’t notice this at the time but thinking about it I remembered she said that she had a pendant like mine. She said it was ‘at home’ – but I could see it right there on her neck! Why would she lie like that?”

  “I’m sure she had her reasons.”

  “What if she was Suzanne?” Katrina asked, getting into Jessica’s car and fastening her seat belt. “And I didn’t recognize her! Oh my God. I was such a bitch to her!”

  Jessica turned to Katrina and studied her foster sister’s face. “Katrina, you’ve got to stop thinking like that. And you weren’t a bitch.”

  “But I was so cold toward her.”

  Jessica started the car and began to drive out of the mall’s parking lot. “Katrina, if that girl was Suzanne, and this is a big if, then she will understand.”

  Katrina looked over at Jessica, who was concentrating on her driving, and noticed that Jessica looked upset. “Jess?”

  “Yeah?” Jessica replied, not taking her eyes off the road ahead.

  “Thank you.”

  “What for?” Jessica asked, honestly surprised.

  “For everything you’ve done for me.”

  “I feel we’ve had this conversation before.”

  Katrina smiled. “I suppose I should change the subject?”

  “Oh, I forgot to tell you …” Jessica began.

  “What?” Katrina interrupted.

  “That Mom and Dad are going to be out tonight and I have a date with Billy, so you’re home alone.”

  “Okay, that’s fine.”

  “Are you sure? Because I can cancel my date.”

  “Jess, don’t be stupid!”

  “But what if something happens?”

  “I’ll keep all the windows and doors locked and if anything weird happens I’ll dial 911 immediately. There’s nothing for any of you to worry about. Besides, Shelby is a superb watchdog.”

  “Katrina, you’ve being through such a lot in the past year.”

  “I’m not going to disagree with you there.” Katrina paused, watching the world go by for a few seconds before speaking again. “Jess, go out and enjoy yourself with Billy. I’ll get a DVD, order a pizza, and veg out in front of the TV.”

  “You’ll call me on my cell if there are any problems?” Jessica asked.

  “I promise, Jess.”

  At the house, as Katrina stepped out of the car, she felt a couple of drops of rain on her forehead, and shivered at the thought of any approaching storm.

  Twenty

  After Katrina had said her goodbyes to Jessica and Billy on the porch she went inside, locked the front door, then made a quick check of all the locks and windows in the house. Once everything had been checked, she breathed a sigh of relief and went into the den. Shelby was waiting for her, relaxed comfortably in one of the leather armchairs. He looked up expectantly at Katrina but, realizing that she didn’t have any treats for him, closed his eyes and curled up again to go back to sleep.

  Sitting down on the couch, Katrina called for a pizza to be delivered and then she headed toward the fridge to get a soda. On her way back to the den, she heard the doorbell ring.

  Hmmm, the pizza is here quick, Katrina thought, surprised.

  “I’ll be right there!” Katrina called through the door.

  Silence.

  Katrina turned on the porch light, unchained and unbolted the door to open it, and was surprised to find no one there. With a frown Katrina began to close the door, but stopped when she noticed a small package. It was about the size of a small shoebox, with her name written on it and a pink silk bow on top. Picking it up, she brought it inside, closing and re-locking the front door behind her. She headed for the kitchen, making sure that the door to the den was closed so Shelby couldn’t run around the house.

  I wonder who sent me this? Katrina mused, setting the package down on the table.

  Eager to open it, Katrina ripped off the bow, and fumbled for a couple of seconds with the last piece of tape before sliding off the lid and letting it drop on
a chair.

  Peering into the open box, Katrina pulled out a couple of wads of screwed up tissue paper, but as she reached in to retrieve the last piece she noticed that there was something odd about it. She lifted it and froze.

  At the bottom of the box, on some blood stained tissue papers, was what looked like a human heart.

  Katrina screamed a short, high-pitched scream, and felt her stomach churn, as her hands began to shake violently. Dropping the box on the floor, she backed away until she felt herself knock into one of the kitchen counters.

  Katrina stared at the hideous contents of the box. The heart had spilled out onto the kitchen floor – and beside it was a card. Kneeling on the floor, Katrina swallowed hard and, covering her mouth with one hand, reached out to retrieve it.

  Katrina instantly recognized the grotesque handwriting on the card as the same that had been on the note she had found in her bag. She read the macabre writing scrawled across the card until it finally sunk in.

  YOU NOW HAVE YOUR SISTER’S HEART!

  Katrina dropped it suddenly and, feeling the urge to vomit, staggered out of the kitchen and up the stairs to her en-suite bathroom. Once there Katrina sat on the floor next to the toilet, hugged her knees to her chest, and gently rocking back and forth until the feeling had passed.

  Getting up, she went over to the sink, turned on the cold-water faucet, and splashed some of the cool water onto her face before patting herself dry gently with a soft towel.

  When Katrina looked up, she noticed her reflection in the bathroom mirror and gasped. Her hair was disheveled and her eyes were bloodshot through fear and crying, but what made Katrina stare at her reflection in horror was her mouth. There, resting on her bottom lip, were two translucent fangs.

  Oh, God! What kind of monster am I? Katrina thought, stumbling backwards into the bathroom door.

  Katrina blinked a couple of times but her reflection was still the same. The same translucent fangs and unnaturally bright emerald eyes stared back at her.

  Katrina gripped the sides of the bathroom sink until her knuckles turned white. Then, filled with repulsion, she struck the mirror hard, so that it shattered, raining shards of jagged glass. I’m a freak, Katrina thought.

  Noticing that she had cut her hand, she stared at the crimson blood that was dripping on the white tiles of the bathroom floor, as she slid down the wall and began to cry.

  Twenty-one

  “Suzanne, what are you doing out here? You should be resting,” Emily asked from the front door.

  “Just thinking,” Suzanne replied from where she was sitting on the porch steps.

  Emily moved from the front door and joined Suzanne to sit next to her.

  “Aren’t you cold?” Emily asked, rubbing her bare arms.

  “Not really,” Suzanne said nonchalantly.

  Emily shifted on the porch step uncomfortably.

  “Suzanne, I’m worried about you.”

  “Emily, please. I know you worry, but you don’t have to. I’m fine.”

  “I just want to help you.” Emily frowned, noticing that Suzanne’s arm was not bandaged. “I thought you said that you had to keep your arm bandaged for at least three weeks?”

  Suzanne looked down at her arm. “Um, it kind of healed.”

  “Things just don’t kind of heal, even with your healing abilities as a werewolf.”

  “Well, um, you know that Marcus got that witch to do a healing spell?”

  “Yeah.” Emily nodded.

  “It must have healed my arm as well as the wound to my chest.”

  “But you should still have more bed rest. Blood magic is especially unpredictable, and with your nightly jaunt to the cemetery –”

  “I’m fine. In fact, I’ve never felt better.”

  “That may be so, but I still think you’re rushing things!”

  Suzanne closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. “Emily, I’m okay.”

  Letting it drop, Emily stood up, stretched, and made for the house but a hand on her arm stopped her. Emily looked down at Suzanne and was surprised to see that she had tears in her eyes.

  “Emily, please don’t be angry.”

  Emily frowned. “I’m not angry with you, but I am disappointed that you can’t talk to me. I do know what you’re going through and what it’s like losing a sister.”

  “I don’t think you do.”

  Emily shrugged off Suzanne’s hand. “I don’t know what it’s like? My sister was murdered in front of me!”

  “And so was Katrina!” Suzanne snapped.

  “That’s not fair. Marcus was just protecting me and Jonathan.”

  “And that gave him the right to commit murder and change Katrina into a bloodsucking monster with no soul?”

  “Is that what you really think? That I am a soulless, bloodsucking monster?”

  “Well, if the cap fits!”

  “I know what you’re trying to do, Suzanne.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “You’re shifting all the blame to me and Marcus because you can’t handle what you’re really feeling.”

  “And what exactly do you mean by that comment?”

  “You’re in denial!”

  “I’m not!”

  “You’re even denying that you’re in denial!”

  “I’m not in denial!”

  “Suzanne, just admit that Katrina was in the wrong place at the wrong time!”

  “And that gave Marcus the right to kill my sister?” Suzanne stood up and pushed past Emily.

  “He made a choice that he thought was right at the time.”

  “Stop sticking up for him!”

  “Suzanne, why are you acting like this?”

  “Just leave me alone!” Suzanne screamed. And with that, she was gone, slamming the door behind her.

  Oh, great! Emily thought, massaging the bridge of her nose in frustration.

  There was something on the ground; something Suzanne had dropped? Emily stooped and picked it up. It was a piece of white paper with a message written in red ink.

  The note read:

  Suzanne,

  How do you feel living with a murderer? Marcus killed your sister over two hundred years ago when he cursed her with the same fate as himself and last year he tried to kill her again because she found out some of his secrets. And, Suzanne, you’re going to be next, so be careful.

  A Concerned Friend

  Emily folded it, perplexed, and then stuffed it into her denim shorts back pocket before returning to the house.

  Jonathan watched Emily go upstairs from the kitchen doorway and waited until he heard the faint click of a door being opened upstairs before he walked lazily down the hall and entered the study.

  As he walked in, Marcus looked over at him, his gray eyes clouding his emotions.

  “Jonathan, did you do that little job I asked you to take care of?”

  Jonathan walked over to the couch and put his feet up on the small table in front of him. “Yeah, I made sure that the girl would be found easily.”

  “How easily?”

  He shrugged. “Someone started screaming as I left the park.” A pause, then he added, “But I wish you would just let me leave them in the woods or something.”

  “I hope you aren’t complaining.”

  “No, but don’t you think it’s a little risky murdering one of Suzanne’s and Emily’s classmates?”

  Marcus smiled. “You worry too much. No one is going to connect a dead cheerleader, with an apparent slit throat, to me.”

  “I still think you are playing a dangerous game.”

  “All games have an element of risk. Besides, in this game, I know all the rules.”

  “I just think you should be more careful. Suzanne is becoming seriously unhinged, Emily is started to get suspicious, and don’t forget your dealings with Starr.”

  Marcus chuckled, “Just leave Starr to me. I have something special planned for our little rogue wolf.”

  He paused then, and as i
t listening for something, tilting his head to one side. He frowned.

  “Is anything wrong?” Jonathan asked.

  “Maybe … Do you hear that?”

  “Hear what?”

  Twenty-two

  “I don’t like this!” Marcus whispered, noticing that the door to the girls’ bedroom was slightly ajar.

  Taking a couple of long strides, Marcus covered the distance between the top of the stairs and the girls’ bedroom in seconds.

  Jonathan sniffed the air. “I don’t smell anything unusual.”

  “Well, something obviously is! In all the time we’ve known them have they ever had their bedroom door unlocked, let alone open?” Marcus said, his voice still low.

  “So what do we do?” Jonathan murmured back.

  Gesturing to Jonathan with one hand to be still and motioning that he also stay quiet, Marcus very softly placed his hand on the bedroom door and pushed it slowly, gently, open.

  The scene before Marcus and Jonathan took them totally by surprise. The bedroom was tidy, there was no sign of there having been a struggle, the beds were neatly made, and everything was in its proper place.

  Marcus and Jonathan looked at each other, puzzled.

  “What the hell is going on?” Marcus said, raking his fingers through his hair.

  “Marcus?”

  “What?” he replied, curtly.

  “Look there!” Jonathan said, pointing.

  Marcus’ eyes followed the direction of Jonathan’s finger and there on the floor, between the girls’ beds, was what appeared to be part of a human arm.

  Marcus stiffened. A lump formed in his throat, and he swallowed it away. Carefully, he walked closer to the arm, then stopped. He sighed in relief. It was still attached to a body.

  A girl’s body.

  Panic gripped Marcus’ heart when he realized who the girl was.

  Emily.

  “Is she dead?” Jonathan asked, making Marcus jump involuntary.

  Marcus felt the palms of his hands begin to sweat so, wiping them on his jeans, he knelt down next to Emily and tried to feel for a pulse on her wrist.