by Sia Wales
“You know that this decision is unacceptable,” I say.
“But it’s my decision, and I never said I was reasonable.” He takes a deep breath. “Now is the right time. How long do you think we can stay in Medford if we don’t fix things with the bloodsuckers of the Council?”
“You said we…” I say breathlessly, nestling into him.
“I meant me and you,” he specifies, running his free hand through my hair.
“Then I’ll come into the cage with you!” I’m trying to get a rise out of him. But he just laughs.
“The cage is no place for you, Stella.”
“Isn’t a best friend supposed to stick by her buddy’s side?”
“Sure, but every rule has its exceptions.” He sounds sincere.
“What do you choose…me or the ceremony? One or the other? You decide.”
“Hmm…out of the two?” Vuk acts like he’s thinking it over seriously. Then he unfurls that crooked smile of his, the one I love best.
“You, obviously! But I’d rather lose you and know that you’re alive than see you dead and be holding you in my arms.” He suddenly sounds more grown up than me for the first time. I search his face, incredulous. It takes him a moment to realize. “What is it?” he asks. I don’t reply.
“Listen, Stella,” he says. “What’s important is that I’m at the heart of the action, I could make all the difference.”
Vuk continues to babble on, but I let his talk become background noise and close my eyes to block everything out. I can hear the blood thumping in my eardrums, faster than usual. His voice becomes even more distant.
When he does finally stop talking, I get the impression that I’ll never be able to convince him, even though I’ll use every tool I have at my disposal to stop him offering himself up as a sacrifice––even if it means not being able to settle his brother’s debt with the Council.
The lights of Medford suddenly begin to shine through the windscreen, and Vuk turns off to head to the bar. Scott and Tyler are loitering by the entrance, as if they were waiting for us to turn up. They eye us warily. Scott’s face betrays no emotion as he stands still, his eyes fixed on Vuk. Thank God Jeff isn’t here, too.
Vuk is fuming, I can tell, as he parks the pickup. Tyler’s topaz eyes, full of hatred, are also looking Vuk’s way.
“Right, I’ll get going,” I mumble, hurrying out the vehicle. But Vuk calls after me.
“You had your say about me going to the ceremony. But you didn’t ask them what I think about you going.” The words come tumbling out of his mouth, rapid as machine-gun fire. “I don’t think you should go,” he says, his voice broken in two. “Stay with me, just a little bit longer.” He glances at the alleyway by the bar. I follow his gaze, but all I see is Scott’s Jeep parked in its usual place. He mumbles something incomprehensible to himself. Maybe he’s commenting on Tyler. But why does he keep looking at Scott’s car, if both Scott and Tyler are standing by the entrance?
“Sorry, Vuk,” I sigh. “But I really have to go. Tyler and Scott are waiting for me.”
Vuk snorts, his face darkening. He turns again to the dark, empty alley, a menacing look on his face.
“Next time Jason is away and if Donn’s not on the warpath, I’ll come see you again in Wolfeboro.” I smile. “But I have to work now.”
Vuk replies with a nod in my direction and a dirty look at Tyler.
“That’s a cute way to say that Jason’s off hunting…”
“You guys go hunting too, Vuk,” I caution him.
“Yeah,” he grunts. “But we eat meat and they drink blood! At least our behavior is relatively human.”
“Look, I’ll come back to Wolfeboro, but you behave yourself in the meantime, ok?”
He gets that arrogant look that I can’t stand, but with that crooked grin that I adore. He reaches over to give me a goodbye hug, his eyes flickering over to the bar doorway. I glance over, too. I try to ignore Tyler’s interfering expression. Vuk’s eyes are searching the alleyway again, a more serene look now crossing his face as if there’s nothing there anymore for him to worry about. I wriggle out of his grasp and slide out the car.
“Be careful, though,” he calls after me. I get the feeling that he’s not referring to Tyler or Scott. He hurries out the vehicle to accompany me to the door.
“Hey, Scott, hey, Tyler,” I call out in my most enthusiastic tone as I walk up.
“You fall over, Vuk?” asks Tyler, stifling a laugh, nodding at Vuk’s wounded arm, which he is cradling against his body. “I hope no one else got hurt.”
Vuk just shakes his head, irritated.
“Of course not,” I hurriedly answer. I turn to Vuk, wanting one last lingering look into those deep emerald eyes before he leaves. I see his anger melt away.
I dash into the bar and take my place behind the counter. Scott has already vanished into thin air and I see Tyler taking giant strides toward me. He looks almost unrecognizable to the Tyler I saw outside. The severe, unfriendly mask has been taken off and replaced by one brimming with joy. He is beaming. And he looks proud of himself, too. This is the second time he’s managed to shake Vuk off. As he passes me, he sniffs at my hair; it smells of my usual cherry shampoo.
“Hey, Ella May!”
“Hey there, Tyler. Where’s Scott?”
“Holed up in his office,” he shrugs. “His nose in the balance sheets.”
Such human concerns are weirdly reassuring, it’s comforting to know that life goes on as normal in some places. I wish my own problems were of the simpler kind. Tyler’s continues to look at me with those golden eyes.
“I don’t know how to thank you, Stella. Not only have you saved me from death by boredom, you’ve also saved me from getting a two-hour lecture on business management for the bar. Scott was on some kind of responsibility trip earlier.” The relief is written on his face.
“Cool. Glad I could be of some use,” I smile. I look around the bar and notice that it’s strangely quiet.
“Where are your pals, Tyler? I mean the hikers.”
“They took their kids and some friends camping in the southwesterly forest for a birthday party. Remember how Scott used to take us camping for my birthday on summer vacation?”
“Sure I do! July 24th, right?”
“That’s right.” Tyler looks pleasantly surprised.
“All that open-air stuff. I could never keep up with you guys.” I squirm, noticing his constant, almost imperceptible, sniffing. “What is it?” I finally ask, irritated.
“Don’t get offended, but… it’s not the first time you smell of dogs.”
I grimace, not really sure how to reply to this comment. I sometimes think he knows about Vuk’s secret. He shrugs and we both get on with our work in silence, the only noise being the clink of the bottles and the scrape of the newly arrived crates scratching the counter.
But it’s not an uncomfortable silence. Tyler and I have never felt the need to fill the time with pointless chitchat. Like Scott, he’s watchful. He takes in everything that goes on around him in that discreet manner of his. I wonder why he’s developed this spontaneous hostility toward Vuk, the same antagonism that Donn seems to feel toward Jason.
“Is something wrong?” he asks in a low voice, glancing around to make sure no one’s listening.
I don’t mind the question; I know when he probes, it’s not for the sake of idle gossip like it is with Jamie. I know he actually cares about me.
“Is it that obvious?”
“Not really. I mean, not to everyone,” he says in a reassuring tone. “You look worried, but you don’t have to tell me about it if you don’t want to.”
I’m about to explain that I’d rather not talk about it, but then I take a deep breath. I have too many secrets that I have to keep bottled up inside, ones I can’t talk to other humans about. I’ve never talked to Jamie about this kind of thing, it would be against the rules. But right here, right now, that’s just what I want to do––talk to a friend
about it. A normal, human friend, or at least I think he is. I want to pour my heart out and have a shoulder to cry on, like any other ordinary girl.
“It’s Donn Brooks, I don’t know if…” Just saying his name brings butterflies to my stomach, but I look at Tyler’s liquid amber eyes and manage a smile. I can’t believe I’m telling him about Donn, someone he probably doesn’t even know! I never before realized how starved I was for intimate human conversation.
“Right, I know him,” he says. “Scott mentioned him, his…sweet nature,” he adds jokily. “He said that he was no better than that loose cannon Vuk Wolf.” Tyler says this with a comic imitation of his uncle. “So what’s the problem with this Donn?”
A gentle wave of sadness washes over me. I convince myself that Tyler’s objectivity, outside of this chaotic world of vampires and werewolves, would help me put things in the right perspective.
“Oh, he’s upset with me.”
Tyler’s curiosity is stoked.
“Really? Why’s that?” I can hear the astonishment in his voice, surprisingly intense. I just give him a gloomy smile, not meeting his eyes.
“Do you know who Jason Rees is?”
He nods.
“Let me guess…Donn doesn’t like him, right?”
“That’s an understatement. Jeff doesn’t want me to go see him either, Scott either. They think, as does Vuk, that Jason is a bad influence on me. That he’s dangerous.”
“That must be tough,” he mutters. “And what do you think?”
“That it’s all absurd. I imagine Scott told you about all the problems I had last month.”
“Stella,” Tyler grins. “Scott told me about how Vuk Wolf looks at you, and friendly is not the right word to describe it. The same goes for Donn. I was watching you the night of your party.” He examines the dates on the order sheet for the goods that have just been delivered, his eyes carefully avoiding mine.
“Right,” I stammer. “And?” Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything. But I want to keep pouring out my heart to him.
“You know what the real problem is,” Tyler shakes his head. “Jealousy.”
“What?” I exclaim.
“He’s obviously jealous.”
“No, Donn’s not jealous. About Jason, maybe a little bit, but not about Vuk. I can’t tell you the ins and outs of things, but I can assure you there’s nothing going on between me and Vuk.”
Tyler looks skeptically at me. Maybe he was watching our behavior at the party, too.
“Donn knows how I feel,” I continue. “I told him everything, I don’t want to lead him on.”
“You and Vuk are real close, right?”
“He’s like family to me.” I smile warmly.
“If you want my advice, listen up. He’ll get over it.”
I try to shrug off any gloomy thoughts, I just want to get back to work now, not think about anything else.
“I hope so,” I reply.
Tyler senses that I don’t want to or can’t say anything else, so he changes the subject. He tells me some funny stories about when he and Scott went camping, times when my dad and I weren’t there. We chit chat about school, about the national parks he’s worked in as we get on with our work. His laid back, easy-going nature always puts me at my ease.
We hear the honk of a car horn from the street. When it honks again, it seems to be right outside the bar. The car engine is rumbling, backfiring noisily.
I’m not concerned; it doesn’t sound in the least like the suave hum of Donn’s Bentley. It must be the Siberian rangers come to pick Tyler up.
As I suspected, I see them through the window pile out of the car and walk toward the bar, laughing. Both Fergus’ and Locke’s hair are all messed up, dripping with salt water. They probably went for a swim in the ocean. Amelia and Dora try to keep their distance as Fergus shakes his head and sends the droplets flying.
But laughter and playfulness aside, there seems to be something different about them. I notice that Locke looks less pale than usual, which I assume is due to the cold dip helping his blood flow. He also looks more at ease in the family. Maybe I was wrong about Fergus, maybe he’s ok after all.
They come inside and spread out at their usual table. They spread maps out as if they were planning some kind of excursion or hunting mission. They have highlighted various paths and roads, looking like they have just stepped out of an adventure film or a National Geographic documentary. I crane my neck to get a better look at them.
“Ah, here they are,” smiles Tyler, making his way to greet them. I look at him doubtfully.
“Is your family planning to go trekking too, or are you going climbing or something?” I try to sound as casual as possible.
“Let’s change the subject.” He laughs off my question, his smile never leaving his face. It’s hard to believe that a human could be so damn handsome. I fear he might disappear in a puff of golden smoke and I’ll wake up to realize he was just a figment of my imagination. I look down, nibbling at my lip. I’m not going to let it drop.
“So what are you doing?” I try again. A pal doesn’t have to give up at the first hurdle, right? I hope my voice doesn’t give away just how much I really want to know.
“We’re going hunting in the Vermont forests, northwest of the White Rocks Cliffs,” he replies without hesitation.
Fergus glances at him, communicating something with his eyes. He’s obviously upset, but Tyler just looks back at him, obstinately.
“What are you going to hunt?” I continue, when the dirty look tennis match between the two of them is over. “Whatever you find in the woods?”
“Not exactly.” The words are strangled in his throat, his eyes, still fixed on Fergus, cautious and impenetrable. Dora’s golden amber eyes are frowning at me, but the hint of a smile on her lips seems friendly enough. Amelia glowers at Tyler; only Locke seems amused by the conversation.
“We need to take every precaution possible,” he continues, his face growing dark. “We’re after big prey.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, wondering.
“Too many grizzlies,” he snaps, almost defensively. “The right balance needs to be maintained.” The apprehension in his eyes reveals how terrifying the truth behind those words is to him. Fergus opens his mouth to protest, as if he has just heard a casual reference to a dark secret, but holds back.
“Grizzlies?” I repeat, finding it hard to believe.
“Fergus adores grizzlies!” exclaims Tyler. “At the end of fall, as soon as the really cold season begins, they become real irritable.” He’s making it sound like this adds to the fun.
“I guess there’s nothing more entertaining than an irritable grizzly,” I quip. I look at Tyler. “I bet you get off on them too.”
“Actually, I prefer the black bear to the grizzly,” he replies, his jokey tone mimicking mine. “They’re wilier.”
I search the faces of his family, expecting them to burst out laughing, revealing the tale he’s spinning. But they betray no emotion.
“Do you and Fergus use the same hunting tactics?” I ask.
Tyler sees me watching them and stifles a laugh. I wonder why…but it does put me more at my ease and I feel less exposed somehow.
“People say that Fergus is like a bison when he charges and that I’m like a cougar.” The corners of his mouth betray a smile, his eyes have that nostalgic look of someone thinking back to the past. “If you’ve ever seen a documentary about how bison charge, you should be able to picture Fergus,” he sniggers.
A thousand images race through my head, none of them compatible with the other. I can’t stop a shiver running down my spine.
“Wow! He must be really good.” I don’t sound very convincing. I glance to the other side of the counter toward Fergus, relief washing over me when I realize he’s paying no attention to me. The sinewy muscles on his chest and arms seem ready for action.
“Obviously, we take into consideration the environmental impact and follow good hu
nting rules,” explains Tyler patiently. “We only go into areas that are overpopulated with predators, even if we have to travel miles.” The anxiety has crept back into his voice, sending mine skyrocketing again.
“So you don’t go hunting around here?”
“There are a lot of moose and deer around at the moment, but where’s the fun in that?” He smiles wickedly.
“So the rangers are in charge of hunting to control overpopulation…” I begin to say, but am interrupted by his amused laughter.
“Kind of…” he hints. “But only for the most dangerous predators around. We’ve been having a few problems with certain animals lately.” He winks at me, his shining eyes trying to convey the words he dares not speak.
Fergus pales to a few shades lighter than his normal ghostly white complexion. His face betrays nothing, though his eyes are flecked with rage.
I take a couple of steps back. I don’t want to admit it, but his reaction has scared me. Even Tyler takes a step back, although it seems to be out of solidarity. He crosses his arms challengingly.
“Yeah, right, the giant cougars, the ones as big as bears,” I agree, trying to keep my voice steady.
Tyler turns to me, an exasperated look on his face, as though I’m totally missing the point. My eyes are somehow drawn to Locke, who is staring right at me. All the others are warily watching Tyler.
“There are predators that you should fear more than cougars, Stella,” he whispers in my ear. “Don’t take offense, but you’re a walking disaster area, you attract trouble. So would you do something for me?” He touches his hand to his chest and unfurls that oblique smile of his.
I nod a helpless yes.
“It’s no problem if you stay in Medford or Boston, but don’t venture out of the towns without me or one of the other experts, ok?” His voice is almost pleading.
“Do you really think there’s something out there more dangerous than cougars?” I ask hesitantly.
“There is something,” he laughs, a hand reaching out to caress my cheek affectionately.
