I found myself in the garage, with two strangers I had never met before in my entire life, and they were banging on Ballard’s computer, trying to get it to work.
“No, I think it’s dead. How old is this thing, anyway?”
“Hello,” said the other of the two.
They were standing there, staring at me. I stood on one toe, then the other. Meeting new people always made me nervous. Some Head of House you’ll be, I thought. I wondered if I had what it took to be the leader of House Rookmaaker.
“My name is Halsey,” I said.
The leader of the two said “You’re Ballard’s girl, aren’t you?” Their broad grins widening into identical smiles.
“Well, his friend, actually,” I said.
“We’re Sándor and Septimus.”
I chuckled nervously: jinx. They had said it together.
The shorter of the two (Sándor) had on a houndstooth jacket and sported a curious diamond-shaped soul patch under his bottom lip. It pointed downwards to a necklace with a pendant shaped like a swirl. His brother, Septimus, was more wild-looking, with hair to rival even Lennox’s; it was moussed in careless spikes, and his eyes gleamed with a certain wondrous light.
I suddenly found myself being stared at––looked over––studied. “Dogs are usually kept by witches as familiars,” said Sándor to his brother, nodding my way. “And vice-versa.”
Someone came in just then, from the doorway leading upstairs. “Are you Halsey? I’m Cyno. Ballard’s mom. These two aren’t bothering you, are they?”
She was tall and slender, exactly like Lia. I had expected someone zaftig. “How do you do?” she said.
She saw the red Gambalunga. “Ah! Risky’s bike!”
“Do you––I mean––do you guys know––what’s going on here?” I asked, looking around at all of them.
I don’t know what I expected. Just that I was feeling lonely, and I needed a shorthand, commonality––Something––between the four of us.
“A wedding, I think,” said Septimus. I felt like I was standing on uneven ground. But he was joking––joking. Why did I always have to be so super awkward?
Sándor, his eyes shining, said, “You mean the fact that there are vampires and we guard Rome from them and so forth?”
“We had no idea,” said Septimus, who smiled at me.
“We’re in on the family secret, Halsey,” said Sándor, “don’t worry. In fact...” He looked at his brother. “Can I say?”
“If you must... She’ll find out anyway,” said Septimus.
“Ballard recalled us––Cyno here too,” said Sándor. “She’s kunos oura. That’s Greek for our little predicament of being shape shifters. You know, anthropomorphs?”
“Loup garou,” said Septimus.
“Lycanthropes,” said Sándor.
“Vyras, berserkind, lupins... wearers of wolfs’ skins... wargs, beast men, Versipelli, turncoats, oboroten, geroul, wer-wulfs, moonpeople. Cut the man, the fur shows through,” said Septimus. “We are initiated Halsey, to the transmutandi corpora nostra, but are unable to shift, unlike some people. Lia’s upstairs, by the way.”
“We need to get you both ready,” said Ballard’s mom, who seemed to be waiting for them to be quiet, before talking to me. I was enjoying their jambalaya of word soup.
I felt that familiar sensation, like I was new to something, and I was trying to keep up. Were Sándor and Septimus what I thought they were? And why had they been recalled? Obviously, something was going on. I wanted to know what.
Lia was in her dressing room, which had been converted from one of the spare bedrooms, when I arrived. There were a lot of spare bedrooms these days, considering who had lived here. It was like Ballard’s entire family had gotten out of Rome. Sándor, Septimus... His mother and father... Suddenly they were all in town.
Lia was in a chair being groomed by Liesel, who was doing her hair. It looked like the two of them had been pulling an all-nighter. Lia’s hair was done up in an extremely intricate, finger-busting, braid, with gems knotted into it, so that they shimmered down her neck. “You’ll be the most wonderful angel the stars have ever seen,” said Cyno, glowing at her daughter. Lia wasn’t the only one getting made over, however. It was my turn in the chair next to her. Clothes racks were behind us, just waiting for our attention.
“For you,” said Lia, opening a small drawer in the style center they had set up, and handing me a clasped jewelry box. Cyno yanked at my hair. “Do you mind, dear?” she asked.
“No. Go ahead.”
It was just the four of us. Lia and I in our undergarments, our Marks shining. Both Cyno and Liesel exclaimed when they saw mine. I opened the finger box. A small ring sat on a velvet cushion. “Silver and zoisite,” said Lia. “I thought it would match your delta––and the way it swirls down to your fingertips.” She looked almost dreamily at me.
I held up the ring, and thanked her. Engraved on it was a triskele and the words HARM NONE; “to commemorate our wedding,” said Lia. “Mine and Gaven’s,” she elaborated unnecessarily. “The others are getting moonstones, but I wanted yours to be special. Wiccan.”
Cyno yanked. “Tricky customer, eh?”
“Lia, I don’t know what to say,” I said. My Mark flared, and I slapped it. “Ow!” I said. Hers was like gold, and I remembered what Lux had said about Marks being mysterious and all. My own was filling in. The silver ink like mercury, constantly changing. But Lia’s was unalterable. Like it knew what it wanted to be. Like it had been cast that way forever.
I didn’t have that luck. I was wishy-washy; she was not.
I put on the ring and let Lia’s mom continue with my hair, forgetting what I wanted to say. What was there to say? It was clear Lia and Ballard’s parents loved them––even if they never told them what was going on: about vampires and werewolves and Risky... and, said a certain part of me, my parents...
“The guests will be arriving soon,” said Cyno. “Other Supernaturals, including from Houses. What fun!”
“Gaven invited them,” said Lia, interpreting my look.
Liesel pronounced herself finished. Lia sighed. “Thank goodness!” she said.
I got suddenly nervous. “You don’t mean to say from House Ravenseal?” I said.
“Sure. Why not?” said Lia. “Only they couldn’t make it.” She frowned and then said, conspiratorially, “Something came up. Gaven told me. Ballard’s looking into it... But Harcort is coming,” she added brightly. “Do you remember Fanishwar Harcort and Gemma Moonflower? They’ll be here. And of course the other je-rouges. I asked my brothers and they said vulkodlaks usually congregate in mid-winter. This one seems to be going on forever, though.”
The knowledge that Ravenseal had been invited superseded whatever else Lia had just said. If they had come, why hadn’t Ravenseal come-come?
She and the vampire are headed towards Prague. Find the other one and kill him. Do not let it survive.
AND THEM? said the Hunter.
What had happened?
Maybe Ravenseal had sent Lux. Was he in danger? What had happened to him? I needed to see Ballard immediately. Especially if he was holding out on me. We didn’t used to have secrets. Now, with his Il Gattodom, it felt like a wedge was being driven between Ballard and me. Cyno said, “You look marvelous, dear.”
“I’ve never actually been to a wedding before,” I said. I was thankful Lia had spared me the whole bridesmaid thing. It was going to be a very simple ceremony. “Just your attendance is necessary,” she had answered me.
“It’s easy. Just don’t flub the toast,” said Cyno.
My heart rate spiked uncomfortably. “You’re sweating, dear. Relax. I’m finished.” She trilled. “Done. Beautiful. Done. Fabo, fabo.”
* * *
I had studied quite a bit about lycanthropy. So I knew, for instance, that their eyebrows were supposed to meet in the middle, and that werewolves had swinging, ape-like strides. Not to speak too unkindly of them.
Th
ere was also the aversion to wolfsbane. If you called their names three times (“Ballard, Ballard, Ballard...”) they were supposed to come round and stop being werewolves and so forth. Also, there was a great deal to do with remorse; something about the crimes they had committed, and how werewolves felt guilt. But these were Roman shape shifters. When I tried calling Ballard three times, he stayed gone.
“You’re not getting married here, are you?” I asked Lia, indicating the small apartment over their garage.
“No, of course not,” she said. “But I do have to go. Your chaperone will be arriving directly.”
“But where––?”
Lia was escorted from the room. The sun had gone down. Even indoors I could feel it. Like a sixth sense.
There was a knock at the door and Ballard came in. He wolf-whistled playfully. “You look great,” he said. Then he said “Wow” to me.
I was in a black gown. It was see-through in parts. It was very Stonehenge. My hair done up in a twist. I wore my hood down. I had on a Gaelic earwrap I had bought on Via dei Condotti, which was a black-thorn earring thingy, which curled itself along the outer rim of my ear like a snake; it reminded me of the Iron Roses, actually; the Harm None ring, and, of course, my mother’s locket, were also on my person. “Wow,” Ballard said again.
“And you!” I said brightly.
The wolves wore earthy tones, the ladies in green, velvet-flocked tops (so Lia’s mom had said), with satin trim and Chantilly lace. The men, in russet-colored outfits, that made them look like woodland hunters. Ballard’s quadricep muscles were showing. It was said to honor their heritage. “We want you looking like a Wiccan,” said Cyno. I had been tempted to ask her how she felt about her daughter being one––but I didn’t know Cyno that well. In any event, she seemed to be happy; so I guess I had my answer. Now there was only the matter of getting there. I couldn’t go on my Gambalunga. Not in this, I thought. There was no way.
“Not to worry,” said Ballard. “I’ve brought my ape van.”
Swinging strides, I thought. I wondered if he would transform for me––not into a werewolf... but into the old Ballard. “Your chariot awaits,” he said.
It was clean this time. And Ballard had given the ape van a new paint job. And he modified the interior. Now there were side-by-side seats. But we had to scrunch together. “You’re really hot, Ballard,” I said.
“Thank you!” he said.
“No, your skin.”
“Wolf, remember?” he said, as he started the ignition. “It helps when it gets freezing. Though I’m not sure you would think so when you saw me steaming. Giving off heat. That I’m hot,” he said, when he saw I wasn’t keeping up. “To use your expression.”
“I did want to ask you about that,” I said. “Not about your general good-lookingness, which is obvious. No––it’s about this rogue, who’s out there.”
Ballard’s ape van backfired.
“Who told you about that?” he said. “It’s just... No one’s supposed to know––including you. Look, sorry,” he said.
He looked sheepishly down at me from up at the roof where his head was bumping the top.
“Do you think this vehicle fits you?” I asked.
“I refuse to grow out of things. Now tell me, please. Who told you that there was something out there? A rogue?”
“Is that an order, Your Headwolfship, sir?” I asked in an unctuous tone.
“It’s not like that,” he said, “I’m not–– Something’s out there, all right. We already encountered it once. It’s like it wants something.”
“You’re supposed to talk to me, Ballard. Risky put us in this together,” I said, “and you’re keeping secrets––when you swore that we would be like this.” I finger-thinged right in his face.
“Don’t do that. Don’t disregard my feelings,” I said, when he laughed.
“No. It’s just... you should see your face. You look like an angry kitten. It’s kind’ve cute,” he said. “Although it is hard to be frightened of you, you know.”
“I do know––and don’t you? Come on, Ballard, put it together.”
“What?” he said.
“What d’you mean what?” I said, mystically aping his voice. It was like I was talking to myself. “The race, Ballard. So don’t tell me I’m a pushover. We wouldn’t even be here if I hadn’t saved your life. Remember?” I trailed off, angry at myself for saying these things. Don’t say them just to say them––even though you know they can be cruel and harmful...
Ballard repeated the well-worn phrase “What do you mean?” But this time upset.
“Do not tell me that you failed to see that I actually did magic during the race?” I said. “It’s like I’m a lethal weapon. I shouldn’t be allowed to exist. So don’t tell me I’m not frightening.” I was nearing hysteria. “I know perfectly well who I am, thank you very much.” Which was a complete and utter lie.
“Okay... who are you?” said Ballard, playing along.
I hissed.
“You’re a flat tire,” said Ballard.
“Close. I am Halsey. Hear me roar.” I cat-clawed the air. The little ape van wobbled down the road. Me, the terrible kitten.
Ballard said, “You’re right. I should have kept you informed. I don’t know why I didn’t.”
“I do. It’s because you think you have to protect me. I’m not a little girl. Which is why I also have something I need to come clean to you about, Ballard.” Guilt swelled within me.
“Wait... you haven’t been... You have been,” he said accusatorially. “You’ve been keeping secrets. Halsey Rookmaaker, you tell me this instant.”
“Charming, Ballard.”
“Do you like it? I was using my mother’s voice. It’s kind of like the kettle calling the pot black or Whatever. But I’m over that now. This little get-together’s like a passing of the baton, don’t you think? Pretty soon we’ll have secrets we don’t tell them.” He pointed to invisible parents. My own were dead.
I nodded my head. “It’s on us now,” I said, “whatever it is. Which is why you should have told me everything. And why you’re going to tell me, now. Aren’t you, Ballard?”
“Last time I checked,” he said.
I slapped him hard on the chest, because it was the only thing I could reach. We were nearly to wherever we were headed, leaving Rome behind. I felt like a sardine. When suddenly he outbursted.
“The Skarborough article––I knew it!” he said, slapping the steering wheel.
“These little outbursts of yours should come with a warning label,” I said.
“No, it’s just––she doesn’t listen. And quiet. I’m Il Gatto. I won a race, so you have to do what I say.”
“That’s pretty much exactly how I say it in my head,” I said, nodding in agreement.
But he refused to be lighthearted. “You stay in your head too much,” he said. “You’re like your friend, that chick who lives down the hall.”
“Who? Vittoria...” I said.
“Yeah. You two should get out more. Or hang out. Craft in common.”
“Actually, I hate her, she’s my nemesis, and I never want to see her again, but what else have you got, Ballard?”
“The door that squeaks loudest deserves the most attention,” he said.
“What does that even mean?” I was looking at him pointy-eyed.
“Nothing. I just made it up,” said Ballard. “But you get my point.”
“No––I really don’t. And as for needing your advice, I’m older than you, by about two years, so why you think you can give me it... Are you even allowed to drive yet? Trust me, Ballard, Vittoria just wants a little nudge, before she goes full evil. I’m waiting, by the way... For you to tell me what’s going on.”
We continued down the empty stretch of road. (Getting married in the evening was an unusual choice. I supposed it had something to do with Trastevere’s connection to the mysterious drama of otherkin cultures.) “Tell me,” he said, “have you ever heard
of the Benandanti?”
“Aren’t they werewolves? Lia told me.”
Ballard grimaced.
“She shouldn’t have said that. The benandanti are indeed werewolves––but from a northern sect. Actually, they embrace all kinds of change. Your friend Asher is one of them, and he was an ailuranthrope. His mother was a Benandantus. Gaven told me. He also told me to keep an eye on Asher, when we were at the Gathering––but then you and I weren’t speaking. It’s not important. Anyway, this thing may be a rogue from their tribe. I have people monitoring north of here. Several teams of Riders, in fact, are tracking it... The hunter...
“But he’s clever, whoever he is. Always manages to elude us. Which is why I closed the border. Ravenseal made an unscheduled incursion, two weeks ago––this was when Gaven was Head Wolf. He turned them back. Didn’t know what to think. Apparently, they were coming for you. Do you know anything about that?”
“Who was it? Who was it from Ravenseal?” I said.
“Some inspector or other. The point is, we don’t want it coming down here to Italy, the monster. I’ll fill you in after the wedding, okay? Honestly, I was going to anyway. There just hasn’t been a moment to catch up. Hopefully when things settle down, we can do more you and me stuff. Have you been doing any research?”
But it was too late. We were at the campagna, the countryside surrounding Rome––and it was filled with people, and Lia’s wedding was about to begin. I didn’t like this new regimented lifestyle.
* * *
Huge tents stretched upward in the night sky, rockets of cypresses overhanging them, including one rather large pavilion, under which sat a multitude of chairs and tables, and what looked to be a dance floor. Great. I think my flesh-eating butterflies were back. I had been so busy haranguing Ballard to tell me stuff I forgot one of my duties tonight was to address the attendants during a wedding toast. Public speaking was not my forte. Ballard however seemed entirely at ease. He stuck by my side even when several of his men made their way through the swarms of people and wizards and werebeasts to whisper into his ears––sometimes simultaneously. I had seen these same warriors hang on Gaven’s every word.
Neophyte / Adept (The Wiccan Diaries, Books 2-3) Page 42
