by Tamar Sloan
Orin inclines his head in agreement. Why does it feel like he just said, ‘if you say so?’
My arms have crossed before I’ve realized. “What do you do?”
“I will be a counsellor. I hope to heal people’s internal ecosystems by reconnecting them with their wider ecosystems.”
“So, you’re focusing on the human side.”
“This is not a coin; there are no sides. The two are so interrelated they are indistinguishable. They are the same whole.”
I always felt my focus is the animals. Orin’s saying I am missing half the equation.
More reshuffling is going to have to happen. What Orin’s suggesting is that the one person who just betrayed me, who has hurt me the most, who has hurt me all my life, is the type of person we are trying to reach.
To heal.
That little concept hits a wall. A wall composed of distrust, skepticism, and a big fat ‘not in my lifetime.’ As I mentally turn from one parent that has abandoned me all my life I look at Orin, the one I share a father with.
“Will I see him again?”
Orin’s eyes are a deep, troubled green. “I do not know. We are already overlooking the rules by meeting you, teaching you. It would be best if he did not meet you again.”
Once again rules laid down long before my birth, so far beyond my control, are keeping me from being with those that my heart yearns for. Were laws keeping me from Noah. Fae laws stopping me from meeting my father.
Orin’s arm slips around my shoulder so naturally, it’s like we’ve being doing this all my life. “I am glad to be with my sister.”
I’ve just become more again. A year ago, I was just Eden. Freaky, awkward Eden. Now I’m a Changeling. A girlfriend. A bestie.
A sister.
“I never once considered I had a brother, Orin. But I’m glad I do.”
Orin turns, and we start retracing our steps. “A brother that you cannot tell anyone about.”
“I know, and it’s fine.” How would Alexis react if she found out I had a half-brother?
“So, little sister, tell me about this Were of yours.”
My feet falter, scuffing the pine-needle ground. Getting used to being a sister is going to take time. Trusting family with your deepest emotions is probably going to take a little longer. “I’ve spent a long time not letting myself wish for much, Orin, but even if I did, I never could have dreamed up Noah. He’s amazing, he’s everything I never let myself hope for.”
When I look at Orin, I find him smiling, his eyes full of questions, but he says nothing as we leave the edge of the forest.
Out in the open, I look up at the calm, blue sky. “It’s the most inexplicable feeling I’ve ever felt.”
“That’s something for a Changeling.”
“Yes, it is.”
“You two have something very unique.”
I can’t tell from Orin’s tone whether that’s a good thing. “It’s certainly not your usual relationship.”
“Diversity is wonderful, remember? It creates strengths we never knew were possible.”
Goodness, I hope so.
21
Noah
“Sorry sis, can’t. The four of us are heading out to the movies.” Tara skips as she climbs into the back seat of the truck. “Yeah, it does sound like fun, but is there anyone hotter than Captain America?”
I start the engine and Tara smiles, her gaze unfocused out the window as I reverse onto the driveway. “That’s true, Thor does spend more time without a shirt, but I spend enough time around hammers as it is. Sure, seeya Dana.”
Tara hangs up and quicker than seems Werely possible pokes her head between the two front seats. “So Edes, how was the walk in the woods?”
Eden smiles a big, beautiful smile as she turns to Tara. My heart skips like it always does, like it wants to capture that happy look, but I stay quiet, even more curious than Tara.
“I need one of your words to describe it, Tara. It was…”
“Amazeballs?”
“Remarkeaballs?” I volunteer.
Tara gives my shoulder a shove. “That’s not a real word y’know. Incrediballs would have been better.”
Eden smiles. “All of those and more.”
“What did big bro say?” This one’s from Mitch. He leans forward and pulls Tara back so she can put her seat belt on.
“We walked, we talked. Fae have an amazing connection with animals.”
At the intersection to the highway, I throw her a glance. That’s not news.
Eden smiles a little wider. “Fine, we walked in the woods, we played with the animals.”
I thought as much. “Which animals?”
Her hand comes to rest on my thigh, a gesture of affection that has the wrong effect. That warm palm has my pulse and body temp spiking. “Mostly little ones. But we did see a lynx.”
“Wow, people weren’t even sure they’re in the reserve.”
“I know. I can’t wait to tell Emily.”
I can feel her happiness. A warm, settled glow.
“That’s really great, Edes.”
From the corner of my eye, I see her lip slip beneath her teeth. “The Fae, me being a Changeling, has to be a secret.”
In the rearview mirror, I see Tara roll her eyes. “We’re used to keeping secrets.”
Eden turns in her seat, her head scanning the three of us. “No, I mean you can’t tell anyone.”
Three pennies drop at once, but it’s Mitch that says it. “Like our packs.”
“Yeah.”
Her tilted eyes, the legacy of her heritage—look at me, apologetic and unsure. I don’t need to turn to know Mitch is also watching me. “How come?”
“The Fae’s work depends on them being unknown. Weres don’t know they exist. It’s better if it stays that way.”
Carrying secrets is not a new concept for me. And I’d do anything for Eden. “You keep mine, I keep yours.”
Eden leans over; a brief kiss on my cheek tells me her thanks. “I appreciate it.”
Eden’s heritage will be a secret amongst the Weres. I know from experience some secrets get lighter with time, easier to carry. You hardly notice they’re there. But I’ve also found out that some get heavier, like the blasted things are growing, and you get tired of carrying them.
Tyrrell’s Cinema parking lot looks a whole lot like our school carpark. It seems most of our year group has turned out to see the latest Marvel movie. I pull into one of the back spaces. They might actually have to use the rear car park they flattened last year in anticipation of expanding the cinema, only to find out they were being overly optimistic.
I don’t really pay attention. All my senses are full of forest green and warm wildflowers.
Inside Tyrrell’s I wonder whether they should have put all the money spent on the carpark into updating the décor. The burgundy carpet covers not just the floor but also the walls. The glass behind the front counter just reflects the sea of stained red.
Dale, breaking the vista of beetroot with his faded black, grins at us as we approach. “Hey, dudes, double date, huh?”
I pull out my wallet. “Yeah, four tickets to—”
“The dreamboat-bod of hotness!” Tara squeals.
Mitch rolls his eyes, possibly because she almost ruptured a Were eardrum but probably because he’s watched this obsession with Captain America since we were young teens.
“Right on, guys.” Dale passes us the four tickets, two big buckets of popcorn, and the associated oversized drinks. “You’re in cinema two.”
As we enter the second of Tyrrell’s two cinemas, I can’t help but grin. Eden’s excitement is contagious. A normal double date–well, as normal as we get anyway. Either way, it’s kinda cool.
The cinema darkens as the curtains open the last few inches. My hand finds hers in the dark. Beside me, Mitch is munching his way through his bucket. Tara hasn’t taken her eyes off the screen.
I lean over, sucking in her scent, finding her hap
py eyes in the dark. “What did he say?”
“I’m betrothed to a Fae prince.”
“What?”
“Shhh!” Tara’s voice in an angry hiss.
Eden giggles, bringing up a piece of popcorn to my lips. “He said he likes having a sister.”
I munch on the salted Styrofoam, feeling how much this means to Eden. I swallow, wondering which part has been the most significant. “Anything else?”
“I’m completely normal by some standards, but I still manage to break a few golden rules.”
I look at her closely in the dim light. It’s the first time I’ve heard her talk about being different in such a positive light. “In what ways?” I’m not sure if I’m asking about the normal or not-so-normal aspects.
Eden opens her mouth, but her eyes widen as she looks over my shoulder. I turn to see the obsessive focus that Tara had directed at the screen lasered on the two of us. Even Mitch is leaning back, holding the popcorn well away from the explosive that leans across him. “If you two don’t zip it, I’m gonna ask Beth to cook asparagus risotto again when we get home.”
The threat is enough to silence the two of us. I didn’t think it was possible for Mom’s cooking to reach a new level, but the vegetarian meals she’s been experimenting with have sunk way below palatable.
It looks like finding out the details is going to have to wait. I tuck that hand in a little tighter, grab my own handful of popcorn, and sink into my seat. I’ve put money down that Ironman will cameo in this one.
The credits roll, and the moment our blond-haired, broad-shouldered hero appears on the screen Tara becomes the quietest, most focused I’ve seen in a long time. Well, since the last Captain America movie, anyway. After two hours of explosions, shooting whilst leaping from tall buildings, and a few more really big explosions for dramatic effect we’re done. Tara has that weird dreamy look in her eyes that tells me we are about to analyze the plot, which is really analyzing Steve’s superior jawline, the whole way home.
“So, pizza at mine or dinner at yours?”
Mitch, Tara, and I all adopt grave faces. I shove my free hand into my pocket. “Mom’s made ratatouille.”
Even graceful Eden misses a step at that one. “She does know it’s not rodent-based, doesn’t she?”
“I double checked.” Mom had laughed, waving me out with her wooden spoon. I took my unconvinced butt out of the kitchen, reminding myself that rodent-colored didn’t mean rodent-tasting.
Dale is no longer at the ticket booth when we leave. We wave to Jordan as he walks past with a couple of friends. We’re out the front, two couples looking happy and normal, happy and human, when a voice has us all turning.
“Wow, what a coincidence.”
Seth swaggers toward us, a superficial smile planted on his face. Great. The one guy that has me on high alert with a single twitch of that smug smile had to turn up tonight. Although my shoulders want to drop, they tense.
Seth leans against an overgrown flower pot, resting an arrogant hip against it as he crosses his arms. “Hello, Eden.”
“Hi, Seth.” Eden is still, the strange storm of emotions I can feel only apparent in the hand that tenses around mine.
“We should chat—”
“Zip it, Seth.” I growl, stepping forward.
“You should go home, Seth.” Tara’s tone is flat, an Alpha command.
Something flares in Seth’s hazel eyes; it looks like pain but I know it’s anger. Just like I knew he would, and Tara probably did, too, Seth stands there. Mutinous.
It’s a jovial voice that springs through the tension. “Get your dose of hotness, Tara?”
Tara smiles, turning to Dale, but not quite turning her back on Seth. “We’re going to have to redefine hot, Dale.”
“That good, huh?”
“Un-flipping-defineable.”
Mitch steps up to slip a casual arm around Tara, effectively slipping between Seth and me. “Spontaneous combustion was a concern for some of us.”
Tara slaps his arm, her smile practically believable. “Don’t be silly. I wouldn’t miss a second!”
Dale grins, telling us the act has worked. “I’d love to hear the details, but I only get a five-minute break. See y’all at school.”
Unlikely. “Sure, see you then, Dale.”
I fist bump him as he ambles past and heads to the laneway at the end of the building. I look back at Seth to find him watching Dale as he rounds the corner of Tyrell’s, heading to the rear of the building.
“You’re right, Tara, I will get going.”
No one is fooled by Seth’s sudden compliance. He grins at us, and my back stiffens another notch when he winks at Eden.
Then Seth casually, without ever looking back, follows Dale around the corner.
“Gob dash it!” Tara quickly heads in the same direction, Mitch by her side.
I turn to Eden, fishing the car key out of my pocket. “Go home. I’ll pick you up on the way, through.”
“Noah—”
“I promise, this won’t take long.” Seth probably parked his car around the back because he refuses to be a sheep and is making a show just to get us all riled.
“Maybe I should come.”
That grabs my attention. I actually look at Eden, rather than the laneway that just swallowed an angry Were and unsuspecting human, or the backs of my twin and friend that just followed them.
Two wide eyes, all green and serious, lock me there. “I think I could help.”
For a moment I’m torn, between the earnest emerald eyes holding me still and the implications such a choice holds. I look to the corner, down at Eden, then back to the corner. A yo-yo of emotions following the motion. The need to protect Eden wins.
I think it always will.
My hand comes up to cup her cheek. “You can’t.” I can’t. “We don’t know what he’s capable of.”
Those still eyes look at me another second before dark lashes come down. “Okay.”
There’s no time to analyze the single soft word carried on a sigh because Eden takes the keys and turns away. Instead I run toward the corner, round it.
And stop.
An asphalt clearing, one that has never had a car use it as a resting place, opens out. A small storage shed sits in the back corner, its door open, sounds of movement coming from inside. Seth is halfway across, Tara and Mitch not far behind.
“Your car’s parked out front, Seth.”
“I know where I parked my car.” Seth doesn’t bother to turn around, but continues his long-legged stride toward the shed.
“I’ve ordered you to go home.”
“I will,” Seth calls over his shoulder, not bothering to be quiet despite its redundancy amongst three Weres.
“Now.”
That has Seth spinning around, big chested and angry-eyed. Tara doesn’t stop; she keeps stalking forward until she’s almost toe to toe with her defiant pack member. Seth leans over, breath sucked in and held, clearly using his height and size to try and intimidate her.
But Seth obviously doesn’t know that Tara grew up as a part-time mother to six wild younger siblings, or that she was best friends with twin boys who sometimes acted like they shared a brain between them. Only two of us know that she was the first person to stand up to Kurt.
Tara is an Alpha, from her red hair to her dancing toes.
Her hands don’t come to her hips. Her fingers don’t clench. She’s simply still and hard, staring right back. One word repeats through the twilight. “Now.”
“Or what?”
“The Precepts are pretty straightforward. You don’t need a preservice teacher to spell it out for you.”
More banging rises from the shed, this time followed by a few muffled curses that would raise a brow in most bars.
Seth leans back, his head tilting toward the sound. The eyes that return to Tara are smiling. Hard but smiling. “And I’m about to break three of them in one move.”
“Don’t do it, Seth.”<
br />
“That’s one.”
Seth shifts, disobeying his Alpha, ignoring the last Precept. In a flash, a brown wolf dwarfs Tara as he stands only a few feet in front of her.
Just as Dale exits the shed.
Two sets of human eyes and one set of wolf eyes turn to watch him stumble out, drop a rolled piece of paper, and stamp it into the black asphalt with a black boot. Smoke that distinctly doesn’t smell of nicotine curls from the doorway.
“Hold that thought dude, I just gotta find the gents.”
Black-clad, now beanie-headed Dale, takes two, three steps from the shed, his head down, focused on the hands fumbling at his zipper. He staggers another three steps before he looks up.
Then stops.
Glazed eyes widen, pushing up his brows as his mouth drops, plunging his chin into his black-pilled chest. His hazy mind is trying to absorb and decipher the scene before him.
Tara then Mitch, me not far behind. All facing a hulk-sized wolf.
Seth growls, no doubt an intimidating, terrifying noise for the human not far away. But we can see the smile in those brown eyes. Seth doesn’t need to be human to voice the two words that are heavy in all our heads.
That’s two.
‘You shall not reveal the bloodline’ just got blown.
Dale’s eyes haven’t gotten any smaller, nor has his mouth. He just stands there, the ability to think wiped by drugs and shock.
Seth shifts, his center of gravity moving back. I realize in a split second there’s a three. Words that every Were knows shift in my mind.
‘You shall not attack a blood member.’
Seth lunges forward, and I start running. He’s like an arrow, straight and fast. Mitch grabs Tara by the shoulders and yanks her to the side. Brown fur brushes her shoulder as they crash to the tarred gravel. Mitch twists and Tara lands on him, a grunt wretched from beneath her.
But Seth doesn’t stop, dark brown eyes staring dead straight. He doesn’t stop because Tara was never his target.
Anger, full of anticipation and satisfaction, flares in my veins. I can’t change, not with Dale, not with my mark, so it’s human legs that propel me forward. A human body that is small compared to the feral strength that is only paces away.
