“If it’s the second option, then whoever was there didn’t care that you knew, but cleaned up after itself anyway. Which means it’s someone very powerful or something,” Rachel glanced at Loti, “bigger.”
“Bigger?” Loti furrowed her brow. “What do you mean?”
“I think it might be a message. Like from a spirit or some guiding power.”
“You mean God, Rachel. Just spit it out.” Loti rolled her eyes.
“Or the Goddess.” Rachel fixed her eyes on the runes.
“Just tell us what they say.” Loti hugged the blanket tighter, tangling the knitted yarn around her fingers.
Wolf bunched his forehead, glancing between the women and the runes until Rachel gave him a “leave it alone” kind of look. He left it alone.
“The woods represent the darkness you’ve been wandering in.” Her words were hesitant and the look she gave Wolf was pensive. “Loti lost her husband to lung cancer.”
Wolf tilted his head and lowered his eyes. “I’m sorry to hear it.” The hard lines of his face somehow softened. “There are no words, I know.” His gaze did not pity or sympathize. The grim turn of his mouth and the clear but melancholy light in his eyes undid her.
Loti leaned back and twirled her hair around her fingers. She couldn’t make herself look at him as she swallowed back the rising pressure in her chest. Her eyes burned. He’d said the right thing, and she didn’t know how to make that jive with the judgments she’d made. Truth be told, it wasn’t the first time she’d been wrong about someone.
Rachel continued talking, oblivious to the subtle exchange between them. “Losing David in the woods is your situation and the footsteps following you could represent your fear of the unknown. If the dream ended there, I would say that was it. But, the rocky mountain and the black man speak of the future and larger matters.” Rachel pointed to one of the runes. “Feoh. It’s reversed. This is the past and it speaks of overwhelming loss.”
Loti’s eyes stung. No, no, no. She sniffed, lifting her chin and sat up taller.
“The end of a relationship.” Rachel’s eyes apologized as she hurried on. Pointing, she said, “See here? This is ur. It implies challenges ahead and these,” she gestured to the runes around it, “suggest a journey, inner and outer, something you need to do to move on.”
Rachel’s head snapped back, her eyes rolling and flicking to reveal the whites and red and blue capillaries. “But Hagall opposes you.” Her voice was not her own. “Beware, for there are those who want to use you. There is no way around what you must pass through; what you would avoid at all costs. But if you can survive, there will be peace for you both.” Loti jumped up to grab Rachel, but Wolf’s hands caught her wrists. An intense bolt of energy zipped through her arms and straight to her chest. She yelped and yanked her hands back, but he held on tight.
“Don’t touch her,” he growled, his eyes menacing.
She nodded, fear constricting her throat. Their eyes held as he released her wrists. Rachel was still talking. What had they missed?
“Suffering is inevitable, but to everything there is a season and a time to every purpose under heaven. Now that you have what you have been looking for, you must trust that there is nothing beyond the now.” And Rachel slumped toward the coffee table. Wolf was a blur as he caught her before her head hit the glass and scooped her up into his arms.
Hugging her tight, he whispered, “Rachel.”
“Rachel, talk to us,” Loti urged as she brushed damp hair from her sweaty brow. If he was touching her, it must be okay, now. Rachel’s eyelids fluttered, and she mumbled something, cleared her throat and tried again. “Water, please.”
Loti ran to the kitchen and returned with a glass of water, sloshing some on the floor in her haste. “Here,” she said, a bit winded as she lifted the glass to Rachel’s lips. She sipped and reached for the glass with an unsteady hand. Loti held it until she was sure Rachel could, then backed up as Wolf maneuvered her to the couch. Loti stuffed throw pillows behind Rachel as Wolf set her down. Sitting back on her heels, she held one elbow, curling and biting her lips. Wolf’s fingers grazed Loti’s shoulder as he squatted down next to her and this time, instead of a jarring shock, cool pulses eased the tension from her neck and shoulders. She gaped at him.
“She’ll be okay,” Wolf rubbed the back of his neck. “She’ll be weak for a day or so. Channeling is draining.”
Loti nodded, overcome by the more than pleasant sensation at his touch. She made herself focus on her best friend lying pale and limp on the couch
“I’m feeling better. “ Rachel handed the glass to Wolf. “So you can stop looking at me like that. It’s happened before, and it’s nothing to be afraid of.” She paused to catch her breath. “One of the perks of the job.”
“And one of the perils,” Wolf mumbled under his breath. Out loud he said, “You should get hardship pay.”
Rachel glared at him until his frown turned into a lopsided grin, and Loti snorted. Either out of nervous tension or at the strange sight of a sheepish vampire, she howled with laughter. Like a warm, shaken soda, the laughter sprayed through her clamped lips. She jumped up and walked stiffly away, her fingers pinching her lips. She collapsed on the hearth, holding her sides and giggled through her teeth. Tears rolling down her face, she crossed an indiscernible emotional line and couldn’t tell if she was laughing or crying.
In the middle of this, it occurred to her that she hadn’t felt right since David had gone away. It was more than loss, more than sadness or anger. She couldn’t feel him anymore. She’d imagined she’d always feel his presence, the energetic imprint of him on her soul for the rest of her life, but it wasn’t like that. What it felt like was the cold, empty place on her thigh where his hand used to be. And god forgive her, but she felt broken, not in any one place, but overall, like her soul wouldn’t work right.
The spasms subsided until she found herself lying still, unable to maneuver her limp body. When she tried to sit up, she flopped like a fish, her limbs heavy and spent. Hands took hers and hoisted her to her feet. Cool energy pulsed up her arms, and when she opened her swollen eyes, it was Wolf who held her hands. His eyes were soft, full of something weightless and insubstantial but very real. Peace, maybe? For the first time in a long time, she felt calm as his cool fingers slid up her arms, grasped her shoulders, and steadied her. He stepped closer—
Then Rachel yanked her away and into her arms. As Wolf let go, misery flooded her limbs like battery acid in her veins. Loti cried and cried into Rachel’s shoulder, the restless buzzing in her spine sharper than ever.
“I’m sorry, Rach, so sorry.”
“Shh, don’t apologize. I’m here. You’re safe,” Rachel cooed. Loti’s sobs quieted and passed into the occasional hiccup and sniff. “I think you need to sleep.” The brass clock on the mantle said it was 3:00 a.m.. “And so do I.”
Wolf cleared his throat. “I’ll make a few phone calls before sunrise.” He turned to go, then paused. “When were you planning on going to the ashram?”
“Saturday,” Rachel said, turning to Wolf. “Why?”
“I think the Travelers can help. Let me talk to Guided.” Wolf dug a cell phone out of his pocket as he walked away. Over his shoulder he added, “And maybe Calisto, too.”
“Help with what?” Loti bit her lip and wiped her red eyes with the back of her hands. “Who are Guided and Calisto?” The screen door banged closed and she jumped. Damn it. Wolf was already outside. The tears were long past due, but she didn’t feel relieved like she thought she would. Just the opposite. There were things she couldn’t face yet. Things she didn’t know how to begin to feel. No one knew what those last few weeks had been like with David, no one but her and David. How had she kept it bottled up for so long? Rachel picked up cups and set them on the tea tray.
“Oh, geez, Rachel, I’m sorry. Here I am blubbering all over the place, and you’re the one—”
“Shut up,” Rachel said matter-of-factly, straightening
up with the tray in both hands. “You have every right to cry.” Rachel hurried off to the kitchen.
Loti hugged herself as she followed.
Wolf’s muffled voice drifted through the closed kitchen door, and for some reason that she didn’t want to admit, she wanted to go out there. Instead, she turned on the faucet, letting the water run over her fingers until it was hot. What happened when Wolf touched her? The urge to run to him was a physical thing, resonating in her legs. She plugged the sink and squirted dish soap to stop herself from going to him, her hands shaking the whole time. Rachel set the rattling tea tray on the round kitchen table.
“Guided is the leader of the Travelers, the healer tribe associated with the ashram. I’ve never met him, but Nan knows him.” Loti took the empty teapot from her and dunked it in the sudsy water, scrubbing blindly.
“You probably met some of the healers when you were there for your training.” She handed Loti two mugs.
“Calisto.” Rachel stretched the name out cautiously. “He’s the head of the vampire nest at the ashram.”
The electric ants marched down Loti’s back, the opposite of before, and the mugs sloshed in the hot water that turned her hands an angry red. Rachel said nonchalantly, “You’ve heard of them, haven’t you?”
“Yes,” Loti mumbled, rinsing the mugs and setting them in the drying rack. She kept her back to Rachel. “I’ve heard they are different from other vampires, but I never met any of them.”
“Me either. But Nan has.”
Loti’s shoulders hunched over the sink.
Rachel banked the coals in the fireplace and dug out guest towels and linens from the hall closet. Tucking pillows into cases and fluffing blankets, Loti helped Rachel make the guest bed. She loved the way the room smelled of lemon oil and lavender. The well-loved antique furniture and old family photos made her feel connected. Wolf stuck his head in the door.
“Can I talk to you two?” Business-like, he walked over to the old reading chair by the bureau, sitting down as he rubbed his thighs. “Calisto wants you to stay with him at the ashram.” At Loti’s alarmed look, he added, “It’ll be safer. He said he’ll take you to meet the Travelers, too.” He paused, letting the information sink in. “He’s going to speak with Sri Gurudev. Maybe we can figure out what this all means and what you need to do.”
“That’s not necessary,” Loti stammered. “I made reservations with the ashram a month ago and have a suite lined up. Rachel’s going to stay for a week.”
“You should take Calisto’s offer.” His voice was stern, leaving no room for discussion.
Loti’s nostrils flared. “What do you mean figure out what I need to do? Why do I have to do anything other than what I’ve already planned?” She snapped the top sheet over the bed. “I’m staying at the ashram for the next six months in their immersion program.” She tucked the sheet in around the edges with jerky, deliberate movements.
“Do you want to figure out what’s happening to you?” Rachel raised her eyebrows.
Loti glared at her. “You’re not helping.”
The two of them stared at her until she couldn’t stand it anymore.
“Yes,” she said, rolling her eyes. “But I do not need to stay in a nest of vampires.”
“They’re not like others.” Wolf relaxed into the chair, his voice reassuring.
“They’re different, Loti. From what Wolf and Nan have told me, they’re on a spiritual quest to understand their purpose in life. They’ve learned to control their dark side. Wolf’s been living with them.” She glanced at Wolf. “Well, sort of, for the past ten years. They’re different.”
“You haven’t met them,” Loti argued
Rachel reluctantly shook her head. “But they can help.”
“They know things and people.” Wolf crossed an arm over his stomach, resting an elbow on his wrist while he hooked his chin with a thumb. “They’ll be able to help us understand certain things.”
Loti looked from Rachel to Wolf, then back to Rachel, who gripped the quilt to her stomach. Her eyes and face shaped into a silent plea.
Loti narrowed her eyes at Wolf. “Us? I can take care of myself. Why do you care?”
“Loti,” Rachel chided.
“Well, why does he?” Loti gestured at Wolf, but glared at Rachel.
Wolf put up a hand before Rachel could protest. “It’s a fair question, Rachel. For now, can the answer simply be that I want to know why certain things are happening? And who might be after you?”
The tightness in her chest eased and a silly kind of hope vibrated there. “Like the dream?” Loti said, her tone imploring. “And the presence or whatever was in my house? And—” Loti looked meaningfully at Wolf.
He nodded. “And because Rachel’s reading of the runes suggested a journey. And you need to know what you are.”
“What I am?” Loti tensed, a vein pulsing in her neck. “I’m just human. Nothing special.”
Wolf raised an eyebrow. “You really believe that?”
She shuddered, turning away from him and staring at the bed. Did she? She didn’t want to know what she was, or what she was capable of, because what she already knew was too much to bear. And she didn’t want to know what pain Rachel’s spirit had meant and if she survived—No, not going there. Rachel handed her the wedding ring quilt. She shook it out like she meant business and floated it over the bed.
“We’ll talk tomorrow, Wolf.” Rachel put a hand on his shoulder, and he covered it with his, giving her a curt nod.
“I’ll let you ladies get some sleep.” He stood and stretched to his full six feet, hands pressing into the ceiling.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Wolf stared at the full moon as if it might reveal the answers he sought. He dug a pack of Camel’s from his shirt pocket and lit a cigarette with a wooden match. Shaking out the flame, he dropped the burnt stick and returned his apprehensive gaze to the sky. 500 years had not prepared him for what he felt at that moment—the overwhelming urgency and need to go back in the house right now, to her. Taking a drag, he glanced back at the little house; the bedroom lights were still on and his sharp hearing picked up the women’s soft voices. Rachel reassured Loti that she was fine and that the nest at Marksville would help her figure this out. Wolf assured her they were different, she said. How? Loti asked. Wolf closed his eyes and inhaled—he could still smell her. Her unique female scent laced with fear and arousal, her blood salty and sweet, and the something else he couldn’t identify. He had smelled something like this before, but only faintly from another woman; it hadn’t been a one-hundredth of what he smelled now. This was so much stronger, yet delicate. It called to him, coaxing him to return, to stay, to stop, to not walk away this time.
He opened his eyes, looking down at his hands. His fingers thrummed with the sensation of soft skin over firm muscles. And what was that damn jolt every time he touched her? And the other thing? Squashing the barely smoked Camel under his boot, he pinched off the filter and sprinkled the uncharred tobacco in his palm. Holding some between thumb and forefinger, he faced the east, kissing his fingertips.
“Spirits of the east,” he said, extending his pinched fingers, then sprinkling the tobacco. He turned to the right. “Spirits of the south.” He repeated the gesture, addressing each cardinal point in the same way, then lifted another bit to the sky. “Father Sky.” He knelt, touching the ground. “Mother Earth.” His eyes closed, and he touched his chest. “Hear my plea. This creature needs your guidance.” No thoughts in his head, he waited, his spine still crawling. Longing surged through his heart and mind, palpable, pulsing, and heavy.
Flinching, he opened predator eyes. He leapt into the air, racing through the woods like a wraith, his feet barely touching the ground. A blur in the dark, his humanity faded away. The vampire instinct led him to the acrid scent of burning wood and meat, and the sweet smell of human blood. He covered two miles in under 30 seconds. He zipped to a stop ten yards from the firelight, where he held unnaturally still, wa
tching the small group and listening to their conversation.
“I’ll bet you could rig up the batteries two at a time,” one man said.
“Oh, yeah. It’s not hard to do,” the second man responded, taking a swig off a bottle and passing it.
Wolf sniffed. Honey whiskey.
“Especially now,” the woman who took the bottle said. She drank and handed it over. “Well, we can always figure something out.”
Tea tree oil, sour milk? Yogurt, Wolf corrected himself. And mother’s milk. His pupils dilated.
“How much does one cost?”
Lavender and eucalyptus and honey.
“About $550 for the actual generator, but there’s the tower and the battery bank, and the batteries themselves.”
The conversation continued, but Wolf wasn’t listening anymore, his focus on the lactating woman. There were four people sitting around a low fire, and the small breathing sounds of young children came from two big tents twenty yards away. Quite young. Urine. Breast milk. He turned his attention back to the adults, specifically the dark-haired woman, the mother, who was standing up and stretching.
“I need to pee,” she announced. “Where are the headlamps, Max?”
Max pressed something into her hand as she bent to kiss him lightly on the mouth. Adjusting the headlamp he’d given her, she headed for the trees, and Wolf stepped silently behind an oak as she picked her way along a fresh-cut path. She ducked into a copse of Russian olive trees and out of sight. Wolf balled his hands into fists and ground his back teeth together as the smell of her blood, laced with mother’s hormones and milk, taunted him. His fangs clicked down. He waited for the woman to put her clothing back in order, and when she looked up, his eyes glowed with a dark light. She opened her mouth, but no sound came out.
Enlightened (Love and Light Series) Page 6
