How was she supposed to come up with an activity for an entire class? All she’d wanted was a second chance to visit the mystical sequoia. Now she had the burden of entertaining her peers without angering any of them. What was she expected to come up with? A group activity? Solitary? A scavenger hunt? A fill-in-the-blank assignment? No matter what she did, someone would be unhappy and take it out on her. This shouldn’t be her job. It should be Mrs. Whitley’s.
All that work to remain invisible and anonymous, ruined by one simple suggestion for a field trip.
Rachael trudged through the rest of her classes in a muddled state. It seemed as though anyone she passed who happened to be in her Environmental Science class gave her cold, heavy stares. Though it was just as likely that was her paranoia peaking.
At the end of the day she tried to make it through the front door without running into any familiar faces. Clearly someone in the stars above or the furnace below was enjoying her discomfort today, because Holden intercepted her on the sidewalk.
Except this time his calm, cool, slightly smug demeanor had vanished. In its place was a boy who resembled a small, skittish woodland creature. His eyes darted from side to side as he spoke.
“Look,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I know how this sounds, but going to those woods is a bad idea. A seriously, really bad idea.”
What little temper Rachael had began to spark. She bit the inside of her cheek, staring mutely at his knees.
Holden tried to move into her range of vision. “Seriously,” he hissed. “Just tell Mrs. Whitley you went for a walk there recently and . . . I don’t know, saw something bad. A dead body. A wolf covered in blood. Something.”
The gorgeous powder-white wolf, returning her gaze intently with shining eyes, splattered in copious amounts of blood from his thick, proud chest to his sinewy paws.
A little shaken by the memory, Rachael jerked her head up to study him. Holden’s brow was furrowed; concerned, pleading. She felt terribly exposed by this boy.
“I don’t—”
Rachael broke off as Holden whipped around. His entire body went still. The strong, semi-sweet odor of smoke and spice hit Rachael before her eyes completely focused on the figure Holden was facing.
It was a man, obviously not a high-school student, but too young to be the parent of any of her present peers. He hadn’t touched Holden. He was just standing there, a chilling and calm grin dancing from his mouth to his dark eyes. All she could think was that everything about him looked prim and clean, from his black hair to the pressed shirt to his well-polished dark shoes.
“Are you bothering this nice young woman?” asked the newcomer. Even his voice was smooth and soft.
Holden didn’t reply.
The guy shook his head as though he were disappointed. “Go wait in the car.”
Without a word or second glance to Rachael, Holden stepped around the guy and walked off, his shoulders an odd display of slumped and tense.
The sleek-looking man turned to Rachael. This time when he smiled he showed his teeth. It made him appear a lot less threatening, though that could have been because he considered his issue with Holden resolved for the time being.
At least, that was the feeling Rachael got. He still made her uneasy. It was instinctive, something she couldn’t quite explain.
This must be the guy Coleen and Vera were talking about, she thought.
“I apologize for my brother,” said the stranger. “And I did not mean to be rude. From where I stood, it seemed he was harassing you.” Each word was pronounced carefully and distinctly, as though he were loath to throw out words carelessly.
Rachael struggled to loosen her tongue from the roof of her mouth, groping for the right words. “He’s just . . . pushy.”
The guy’s eyes sparked dangerously. “Oh?”
She flushed. “No. Not like that. Never like that. I wouldn’t.”
You’re babbling, her mind scolded. Rachael clamped her mouth shut.
If Holden’s brother minded, he didn’t show it. “I will talk to him, if you like,” he offered.
Don’t accept his help. He’s dangerous.
Rachael didn’t often lie, but this one slipped out easily. “I can handle myself.”
The guy cocked his head, appraising her. He reached into his pocket and removed a black pack of cigarettes Rachael had never seen before—not that she had much worldly knowledge in the area. His motions seemed well-timed; precise.
He tapped out a slim, dark cigarette and lit it. He exhaled a cloud of smoke before finally replying.
“Somehow, I believe that.”
Rachael shivered.
“Hey!” A large body shouldered itself between Rachael and the dark-haired stranger. Jackson. And he was in Protective Big Brother mode. “What do you want with my sister?”
Rachael was suddenly giddily overwhelmed with the sick fear Jackson was in trouble. He was a big guy and could certainly throw a punch for his sister if it came down to it. Most of his elementary and middle school days had been spent keeping bigger bullies off his then-tiny, wide-eyed sister.
But something about Holden’s alleged brother boasted of lean, spring-loaded muscle mass, hidden beneath button-up shirts and clean-pressed jeans. And the way his dark eyes glinted when even the vaguest of challenges danced before his ego frightened Rachael.
Amazingly, the guy backed down. He allowed his shoulders to fall unassumingly, making him appear smaller and weaker. It was the same gestures some animals used when avoiding a fight.
“My apologies,” he said mildly. “It looked as though my little brother was bothering her. I wanted to be sure she was all right.”
Jackson squared his shoulders, making himself look larger—the same way some animals did to assume dominance. He and the stranger were playing the same game. The only difference Rachael could see was that Jackson took it far more seriously.
“That’s my job, dude,” he said. “Back off.”
Though the guy looked more amused than frightened, he let Jackson have the victory. “Of course. My apologies once again. But,” he added, directing his words to Rachael again. “If Holden gets beneath your skin again, and your guardian angel is not around, just tell him Aaron said to stand down.”
“I can handle myself.” This time her words came out more akin to a whimper.
Aaron merely nodded before vanishing amongst the thinning crowd of students.
Oh, they didn’t look alike, but Aaron and Holden could easily be siblings, Rachael realized. Coleen was way off the mark there. The two had a couple disturbingly similar traits.
Jackson waited until Aaron was out of sight before grabbing his sister by the elbow. He led her to the student parking lot, angrily quiet until they had some privacy. “RayRay, you can tell me. Did he try anything?”
“No,” she assured him. Aaron had been weird and kind of scary, but that was all he was so far.
Jackson unlocked the passenger door of their father’s Altima, waiting until she climbed in and sat down before invading her space. “Really?”
She groaned. “Yes. Really. Some other guy was being weird, and he told him to go away.”
Still looking unhappy, her brother drew back. He didn’t speak to her again until they were buckled in and out of the lot.
“Who was the guy bugging you, then?”
Exasperated, Rachael replied, “Just some guy who didn’t like something I said in class. It’s not a big deal.”
Jackson’s normally warm brown eyes narrowed. “Yeah, well, you need to be careful. That dude was creepy. Unsat.”
It was hard to argue with that. Rachael had felt no immediate danger, but Aaron had still given her dark chills. Holden came off as rude, but his brother seemed downright sinister.
Softly, she said, “I’ll be careful.”
In a rare moment of bluntness, Jackson said, “Me and Dad can’t afford to lose you, too.”
The cracking in his voice started a pang of sadness w
ithin her. Rachael felt her heart soften. She watched her brother stare furiously at the road with wet eyes. For all his annoyances and complaints, he was still her big brother. Rachael loved him dearly.
Besides, she couldn’t be upset with him. She didn’t believe she could handle losing him, either.
She gave his right arm a brief squeeze, trying not to distract him too much from his focused driving. “I’ll be careful, Jackie.”
Jackson blew out a slow, patient breath. “Good.”
Carefully, she asked, “Can we stop by the store for a minute? I could use some fertilizer.”
Any other day she knew Jackson would have protested. No way, he would have claimed. He had too many things to do; temples to raid; monsters to slay. Didn’t she understand how many experience points he’d miss out on if they took this detour now, of all times? She could be so insensitive.
Today he replied, “Yeah. No problem.”
Chapter Four
Holden hated being summoned. And that was the way she always phrased it: “My darling sent me to summon you.”
Roxi constantly insisted on escorting him wherever “her darling” was. Today it was in the downstairs study.
She halted before the heavy door, smoothed her short hair and equally short skirt, and then rapped sharply on the dark wood. Holden hovered a safe two feet behind.
The door opened to expose Aaron and release his trademark clove scent into the atmosphere. He’d traded his crisp dress shirt for a casual tee, though he was still wearing the same pressed jeans as when he’d picked Holden up.
Roxi immediately leaned in, not bothering to hide the fact she was sniffing him. A low, pleased sound more akin to a growl than anything human rumbled deep in her throat. She tilted her small head back to look Aaron in the eye. It was almost comical with him towering over a foot above her.
“I brought the pup,” she said in the soft, demure voice she reserved only for Aaron.
“I see that,” said Aaron dryly. He glanced past her, pinning Holden with his eyes. “We need to talk.”
Holden grimaced but nodded.
Eagerly, Roxi started to slip into the study. Aaron swiftly slid an arm around her waist, hefted her up, and dropped her on her feet back into the hallway. “Alone,” he said firmly.
Roxi bristled. “The pack doesn’t keep secrets.”
“Oh yeah, that reminds me,” said Holden mildly. “Turns out Roxi never told you—” He broke off as a flat palm struck his cheek.
Roxi shook her hand as though slapping him had hurt her. Holden knew better. “A lady gets to keep her secrets,” she declared.
With a brilliant smile, Aaron said, “Not in the pack. Not if this is how you wish to play it, dear.”
The pet name was also for show. Roxi didn’t seem to pick up on it. Her eyes lit up with triumph. She straightened her back, faced their alpha fully, and said, “I just never told you how much I adore you.”
The corner of Aaron’s mouth lifted. “You tell me every day.”
“Every day I adore you more.”
Holden struggled not to gag.
Aaron reached out and tucked a lock of hair behind Roxi’s ear. “How about you go keep an eye on Nathan for me.” It was an order, not a suggestion, and even Roxi recognized when she ought to stop pushing. She whirled, shot Holden a hostile look, and bound up the stairs faster than someone with her skinny legs should have been able to.
Rolling his eyes as soon as she was gone, Aaron went back into the study. The expectation for Holden to follow was unspoken.
As much as he hated to, Holden obeyed. And even though each time they spoke privately he was wary Aaron would adorn him with a Brazilian Smile, Holden locked the heavy door behind him.
The study, naturally, was decorated so as to adhere to Aaron’s taste. Thick brown carpet stretched the expanse of the room, the color chosen for its simplicity and the thickness to muffle footsteps. Being in the basement, there was no natural light, just the one bulb on a dim setting above them.
The ceiling appeared to be supported entirely by large walnut bookshelves, with a unique space cut into one wall before the desk to sport a 46 inch TV. Starting from the doorway and working counterclockwise, the shelves were stocked with books, journals, video cassettes, records, CDs, DVDs, video games, and binders; all sorted by type then size then alphabet. The desk was clean and orderly, not a speck of dust to be seen. A black laptop lay closed off to the right. A remote, assorted pens, and a cell phone were in particular order to the left. The rest of the desk was bare.
Only the essentials, thought Holden grimly. It was one of the many mottos Aaron was great at preaching . . . but not so much doing.
Putting off concerns of Aaron’s obsessive disorders for later, Holden remarked, “Oni says you summoned me.”
There was no fear of being heard here. Aaron always went out of his way to ensure at least one room per house they lived in had sound proofing for their highly sensitive ears. Sometimes it was a bathroom, others a closet, and still others a wine cellar. It was always a room Holden’s “big brother” blatantly coveted.
Aaron smirked in a rare moment of camaraderie. Roxi’s frequent name changes were one of the handfuls of things he and Holden agreed about. She’d chosen Oni while they were in Japan, completely ignoring the entire pack’s protests that the word for “demon” was not only stupid, but offensive as a foreigner.
“So what is she really hiding from me?”
Holden shrugged. “She’s made a couple kills outside the territory. Buried them. Figures you won’t go sniffing where she marks.”
Aaron slowly rubbed his finger across his chin. “So nothing new.”
“No.”
He grunted. “Well. Until she starts screwing up, I do not mind playing stupid.”
His jaw tense, Holden replied, “If anyone digs up those bodies, we could all be killed. Forensics have come a long way. Sooner or later someone will find her abnormal DNA in something. Most likely a body.”
“Hmm.”
“It could be anything,” Holden persisted. “A hair, an eyelash, a dead skin cell.”
Aaron grinned. “How perilous.”
“Seriously—”
“You,” Aaron interrupted, pressing closer to him. “Absolutely will get us killed if you run away again. Next time you go anywhere without my explicit instructions, I will gut you. Thoroughly.”
Unthinkingly, Holden’s hand went to his abdomen. He felt the thick, raised scars through his sweater. There were two sets now, and the newest still burned when he thought about them. His fear of the pack leader was permanently branded into his flesh, now, and Aaron rarely avoided reminding him of that.
His voice gritty, Holden said, “Understood.”
Aaron studied him for a few moments. “I need you around,” he stated. “You are useful. But do not think I will not kill you if it is best for this pack’s survival.”
“Yes,” was the hollow response.
The desk creaked as Aaron perched on the corner. “Glad we understand each other. Now. Tell me about that girl and her brother. Jackie and RayRay.”
Aaron’s sharp hearing never ceased to impress Holden. He’d been able to listen to the siblings’ conversation over the roar of engines three cars behind them driving down the urban roads.
“Rachael and Jackson Adair,” said Holden. He folded his hands behind his back in a display of grudging deference. “Jackson’s the older brother. Big into video games. Very protective of his younger sister. Rachael’s a couple years younger. Goes hiking sometimes and grows flowers at home. Other than that she’s quiet. Reclusive. Keeps to herself. Never really seen her interact with anyone at length other than her brother.”
“Depressed?” inquired Aaron.
Holden shook his head. “Doubt it. Just seems to like her own company best.” He loathed answering these questions, but this was the sort of thing Aaron had groomed him for: noticing people; surroundings; details. Cataloguing them. Everyone in the pack was sup
posed to, but Holden was Aaron’s topmost informant—and the rest of the pack was largely kept in the dark unless it pertained to them as a whole.
Crossing his arms, Aaron asked thoughtfully, “Troublemaker?”
“No. The people she does talk to, she’s polite. Kind of shy. Maybe awkward. A little defensive.”
Aaron showed his teeth. “Typical teenager. Any enemies?”
“Not that I can see.”
“Excellent.” Aaron rose from the desk, his voice becoming brisk. “Keep an eye on her. I like her.”
That was never good to hear from him. Rigidly, Holden responded, “With what little respect I have for you, I have to tell you that’s not a good idea.”
Aaron smiled at his blunt honesty. “And why would that be?”
“She’s not all that bright.”
With a roll of his eyes and exaggerated patience, Aaron said, “She is certainly smart enough to be scared of me. That was sheer, natural instinct. It is a beautiful sign.”
Through his teeth, Holden said, “She’s going to get her entire class killed because she won’t let go of this stupid field trip idea she came up with. Not to mention she’s been to that forest before. And she’s seen me. Covered in my own blood. And she didn’t even notice!” He realized he was losing his collected cool and slipping into a rant, but something about that whole incident deeply disturbed him.
Rather than deter him—or even anger him, as Holden had never told Aaron he had been seen that day—Aaron’s interest appeared to deepen. “She saw you . . . as a lycan?”
Holden didn’t respond. He didn’t have to.
“That is even better,” murmured Aaron. “And this field trip will be in the same woods?”
An unsettling sensation weighed on Holden’s shoulders. He nodded.
With a sharp clap of his hands, Aaron said brightly, “Perfect. When?”
“Two months,” said Holden with reluctance.
“Perfect,” Aaron repeated. He strode back to the door, gesturing for Holden to make his exit. “Keep me posted.”
Holden wanted to lash out. He wanted to rail that this was a stupid idea, downright idiotic. That one in the pack was going to burst into a murderous frenzy with all that potential prey treading on their territory. A bloodbath was inevitable. Someone would die. The pack would be exposed. Their best chance of survival was to move to a new territory, which was not an option. Their other choice of recourse would be to keep as many humans as possible away.
Howl of the Sequoia (Secrets of the Sequoia Book 1) Page 3
