He nodded once. “Good.”
Without warning, I felt his cold skin on my own and realized he was tracing the veins in my hand. I shuddered.
“You have very beautiful hands,” he whispered. His mood had completely shifted. He was serious and calm now, very thoughtful and passive.
I couldn’t respond. I didn’t trust him. He started playing with my fingers timidly. It felt amazing. His skin was so smooth. He almost frightened me, and although I knew I should have been running, I only returned his touch, moving my fingers with his. My heart was pounding at even the smallest touch. He moved to interlock his fingers with my own. I stared at his flaccid smile, mirroring my own. Why was I letting him hold my hand? Why was I letting him near me? He was silent again. I couldn’t even hear him breathing, so again I tuned in to the chorus of the woods, waiting for his perfect voice to chime in.
“Thank you,” he whispered seriously.
I didn’t answer.
“For letting me take you here,” he continued. “For trusting me.”
I nodded. I guess he didn’t notice my nervousness, didn’t notice the fact that I didn’t trust him at all, that I was almost frightened of him.
“Should I drive you to school?” I asked. “To get your car?”
He smiled as if I were joking. “I’ll walk.”
“To the school?”
“Yes. Then I’ll drive home and…probably walk some more.”
“Aidan”—I sighed—“will you just let me drive you? Please?”
“You don’t need to do that.”
“No, really,” I pleaded. “It would make me feel much better if you just let me drive you.”
He shook his head, suppressing laughter. “Fine. But only because you agreed to come here with me.”
I drove back to the school, trying to think of something to say. We were both mostly silent.
“Thanks, Jane.” He leaned over and kissed my cheek but lingered a moment and kissed it again.
“Good night, Aidan.”
He slung his school bag over his shoulder and shut the door behind him. It wasn’t too late, so I satiated my obsession once more and drove to Books by the Bay. While sipping at my coffee and skimming through a romance novel, a familiar voice caught my attention.
“Hey,” he said.
I turned around. “Hi.” I recognized the voice but not the face. “Do I know you?”
“Yeah,” he said with a laugh. “Gallagher’s party.”
Oh GOD! “I can hardly believe you remember me.”
“How could I forget?”
I shrugged. I did—quite easily. I recognized his light-colored hair, almost to his shoulders, and his gray eyes—Mr. Jones.
“Oh, right. Mike is it?”
“Yeah.” He nodded. “Are you busy?”
“Actually, I am sort of.”
“Well…let’s go to dinner.”
“I don’t think so, Mike.”
“Ah, come on.”
“I have to get home.”
I closed the book and grabbed my bag. I headed for the door, but he grasped my arm.
“Come on,” he said. “It’ll be fun.”
I yanked my arm away from him. “Really, Mike,” I snapped. “I have to go.”
He followed me out to the parking lot, and I remembered what Becky had said about him being nice. She was a terrible judge of character. He grabbed my arm again, and suddenly his face was flushed, and he looked furious. He must have some anger management issues because he started raising his voice and speaking almost venomously.
“All I wanted was one dance,” he growled. “Now, I’m offering you dinner and you walk out on me.”
“I’m sorry. I just can’t tonight.”
“But you can!”
He was yelling now, causing a few people in the parking lot to stare, seeing if he was an abusive boyfriend or something. I opened my car door, and he pushed me with the heels of his hands into my shoulders causing my door to slam closed. I gave out a moan and turned back to face him.
“Do not dismiss me again.”
“What is wrong with you?” Okay, Jane, shut up! Bad time for confrontation. “Mike, please,” I begged. “Can’t we do this some other time?”
He took a step back. “Another time?” he echoed.
I nodded.
“Tonight is better.”
“I come here all the time. Come down here another time.” I instantly regretted telling him that, being sure he would come back another time.
A different voice interrupted, saying my name the way he always did.
“Jane?”
“Aidan!” I called.
Mike took another step back. Aidan gave him a slight nod and a glare. Mike glanced at me once more and left.
I let out a long sigh. “Thanks.”
“Are you okay?”
I nodded. “My ribs are a bit sore. He shoved me against the car, but I’m fine.”
“I should kill him.”
“Nah, I don’t think he’s all that dangerous.”
He looked at me, shocked.
“Found me again.”
“Well, maybe you’re right,” he said. “He probably wasn’t planning on hurting you. I was just walking aimlessly and ended up here. I didn’t sense danger the way I sometimes do. You’re just born for trouble.”
“You got here fast.”
“Did I?”
I nodded. “Where are you headed?”
Suddenly, before he answered, I gasped and pressed my back against my car as hard as I could, staring into the golden eyes of a snarling canine.
“Aidan,” I hissed.
“Oh, it’s all right,” he said quietly. “Simply stay calm.”
He took a step toward it.
“What are you doing? Are you crazy?”
“Shh. It’s fine, Jane.”
He held out his hand.
“Aidan, you idiot, it’s going to bite your damn fingers off.”
“Jane, please! Be quiet!” he said with a harsh whisper.
The animal was suddenly very still, but the quiet growling remained in its throat. Aidan began petting its head, and it instantly became calm. I was still backed against the door of my car.
“Go on,” he whispered, waving his hand.
The wolf turned and pranced away.
“My God,” I whispered. “How did you do that?”
“Animals can sense fear. As long as you don’t show them you’re afraid, they won’t bother you.”
I had a hard time believing that. Another one of those unnatural things he did. It was one of the things about him I wanted to ignore, to suppress any crazy ideas it may seed in my head. I changed the subject.
“Can I give you a ride home?”
Surprisingly, he nodded. “I think I’ve walked enough tonight.”
He got in the passenger’s seat and settled comfortably.
“Thanks for rescuing me…again,” I said, tucking my hair behind my ear.
Aidan smiled. “Always.”
“So now I guess we’re even.”
“How so?”
“I saved you from Rudy, and you saved me from Mike…and the wolf…and maybe a few other times. So see—even.” A smile crept along my face, and I suppressed a laugh.
Aidan chuckled, nodding. “Ah, yes. We’ll call it even.”
“I still don’t think I understand why you’re not angry at Rudy,” I said, taking the car out of park.
He smiled the way he did when he was happy. "Actually, I found the whole trying to kill me thing quite entertaining.”
“Why?”’
He turned his head, then chuckled. “Well, because if Rudy knows so much about the hunters and he believed me to be one, then he should have known that he wouldn’t have been able to kill me.”
“Are you saying you’re a hunter?” My hands started to shake.
“I didn’t say that, Jane.”
“But you are.”
He didn’t respond. I al
most took that as confirmation.
I drove past Andrew’s house to a small suburban neighborhood. He lived in a small house at the end of a cul-de-sac. It was pale, beige stucco with a tiled roof. There were vines covering the left side of the house and part of the roof. The porch was dimly lit by lights in the grass. It was comfortable looking. I stopped in front of his porch, still searching for something else to say.
“Why don’t you just tell me what you are?” I asked.
“Just stay out of the woods, Janie.” He squeezed my shoulder and twisted a strand of my hair between his fingers. With a smile and formal nod, he opened the door.
“Stop listening to Rudy.”
Before I could think of a response, he was already at the door of his house. When he opened the door, light flooded out, and he appeared to be speaking to somebody inside. He turned and waved at me. I waved back, and he shut the door—gone. I stayed there for a moment, staring at his house, wanting to see his face one more time before I went home. I couldn’t think about anything but what we talked about.
I didn’t say that, Jane. But he didn’t say otherwise either. And because he told me once again to stop listening to Rudy, I knew at that point I had to talk to him.
Chapter Twelve
Another dream distressed me that night, the same as before—flawless and beautiful, unreachable Aidan. Ethan came in again when I awoke screaming, and I had to assure him again that I was fine.
School dragged. I didn’t speak to anybody. I hardly even acknowledged Aaron or Becky. Again, it didn’t occur to me until history class that Aidan wasn’t there. Skipping school on a Friday? Why bother? Mr. Cornally called on me, probably realizing I wasn’t paying attention.
“Miss Callahan?”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “What was the question?”
“Wake up,” he hissed.
I flushed horribly and put my head down. When school finally got out, I rushed home to start on some homework. After, I gathered my courage to talk to Rudy.
I knocked on the door, and not two seconds later, he opened it. He was silent.
“Hey,” I said, trying to keep my voice even.
“Hey.”
“I’m not here to lecture you,” I said when I noticed the tremor in his voice and how he avoided eye contact.
He nodded. “Well, come in, Jane.”
He moved aside, and instantly, I felt that dreamy sensation of the past, and it made me miss Danny terribly. The house was familiar, although only distantly. It reminded me of Danny when he was alive—happy. It was built a lot like Ethan’s house—the door leading into a small, tile entryway and the kitchen slightly to the left, where a little, round table sat in front of those windows with the old, pale yellow drapes. There were flowers everywhere. To the right were the stairs. I had never been up there as a kid, but nothing that I could see was any different than I remembered. From the corner of my eye, I saw Eric at the top of the staircase, perhaps to see who was at the door. When he saw me, he avoided eye contact and disappeared around the corner. I didn’t bother with him. I got straight to the point.
“I wanted to ask you a few things,” I started. “Without you forgetting that I am utterly infuriated.”
His eyes tensed, and he turned toward the kitchen. “May we sit?”
I nodded.
We sat at the little, round table, and he moved aside the vase of flowers. I folded my hands in front of me, trying to think of how to start.
“I’m guessing this is about the Summers kid.” He smiled. “Just to break the ice.”
I had forgotten how much I liked Rudy at times.
I pressed my lips together. “There is something different about him, yes, but I am not buying into your vampire superstitions.”
“Vampires?”
I nodded. “That’s what they sound like to me.”
He shrugged.
“I just wanted to know what you know about the hunters. I want you to tell me because there are a few things that have me concerned.”
“Ah, you saw the clearing.”
No response.
“Figured you would stumble across that sooner or later.”
“A coven of people,” I said, “who hunt other people—my guess is that they are insane, thinking they are vampires or…something.”
“They’re sane,” Rudy answered, “just not entirely human.” He was suddenly serious and actually sounded frightened. He really was trying to protect me.
“That isn’t possible,” I said.
“Do you think people just make up stories off the top of their heads? Nobody is that creative, Jane. Everything comes from somewhere.”
“Most of the books I read are pretty out there.”
“I tried to warn you before, and you wouldn’t listen. Do you want to listen this time?”
I nodded.
“The legend of the hunters is old and not one you will find at a local bookstore. About forty years ago, my grandfather was in his twenties and traveling the world, studying cultures and their religions. He was an anthropologist of cultures but obsessed with theology. Religion was his true passion. There were several cultures he found intriguing, such as the African tribes in the forests and the Arabs in their clothing styles, but the strangest things he saw happened here in Oregon. People went missing, and my grandfather was determined to find out why. The police and even the FBI were stumped. Sometimes bodies would turn up in alleyways or dumpsters.”
My stomach ached when I remembered Danny’s case.
“There were even a few cases where the bodies went missing after being sent to the morgue. Those cases ended up cold. The bodies were never found. Eventually, my grandfather did find out what was going on, and when I was young, he used to tell me the story. For some reason, it never frightened me. It was like a bedtime story. My papa was a hero in my eyes, and I would ask him to tell me the story so often that I eventually knew it word for word. There were a lot of details he left out, but I do know that he talked about how he sought out the mysterious people in the woods who called themselves ‘The Sevren.’ He explained to me how they hunted people—only certain people, pure people, the most loved and happy. They would sacrifice them with bone knives or axes and spill their blood on the alter in the clearing you have seen. The members would drink the blood of the victims, taking in their beauty and the essence of their lives. It is an incomparable pleasure to them, even the children.
“There was a woman who had fallen in love with my grandfather—my grandmother, a member of this cult. She promised him that if he would love her, she would send her people away from the woods and they would never again harm another human. He agreed, seeing as he was in love with her as well. She did what she promised and sent her tribe away. The tragedy of the story, strangely enough, is that my grandfather may still be alive.”
“What?”
“He went missing, along with my grandmother, and disappearances have been happening again.”
“How do you know that?”
“Please don’t tell anyone,” he said. “You know my dad is a cop, right?”
“Oh…right. I’d forgotten about that.”
“Nobody wants this to alert the media.”
“Who’s missing?”
He shrugged. “Even if I knew, I couldn’t tell you.”
I nodded. “So, The Sevren is back?”
“I believe so, yes,” he said, nodding.
“He had a friend who worked with him sometimes and came here to help him further his study of The Sevren before he went missing. Clyde Wingfeild, an anthropologist and a historian. He came to my grandfather’s house one night, terrified and bleeding everywhere. He told him that he was attacked. He explained that a man had broken into his house and attacked him while he slept. He would have believed he was dreaming if it wasn’t for the blood. He shot the man with a pistol he kept in his nightstand, but he was only momentarily hurt. It wasn’t until he smashed his head through his bedroom window that he died. They are almost
impossible to kill. It was only a week later my grandfather went missing. My mom thinks her father is a big fish—but I believe him. And you should too. If the Summers kid is one of The Sevren, he’s broken the pact, and there will be hell to pay. Be careful, Jane. They are stronger than us.”
I just stared at him for a moment. “Vampires, ” I whispered.
“What? They aren’t vampires.”
“Sounds that way to me.”
“They may have some of the same abilities, but vampires don’t exist.”
“Exactly.” I stood up. “Thanks, Rudy, but I don’t think that listening to your stories is the best idea.” I walked toward the door and heard him behind me.
“The night you hurt your ankle,” he called. “The night you got hurt and Aidan rescued you.”
I froze in the doorway and turned around. “How do you know about that?”
“Why do you think the wolves didn’t bother you that night?”
“What?” My voice swelled with sarcasm.
His voice dropped. “Why do you think nothing worse happened?” He looked at me sadly. He appeared somber yet distressed at the same time. “Why do you think you’re alive?”
I sighed. “Rudy, Aidan isn’t a vampire, okay?”
He opened his mouth to speak, but I stopped him.
“Or hunter.”
“You have to listen to me.”
“No, Rudy. I really don’t. Aidan can’t…control the wolves.”
I ignored and started walking home. He didn’t follow, but he called to me.
“I saw what he is, Jane,” he yelled, “what he was doing, and it was terrible. Please just keep yourself safe!”
I sighed. I had gone to see Rudy for a reason, and when he told me what I was expecting to hear, I walked out on him. I guess I owed him as much to at least listen to him. But I couldn’t get his story out of my head. My stomach was turning. Danny had died a mysterious death, and his body was found in an alleyway. His case went cold. My brother’s death was matching Rudy’s story, except The Sevren was in Oregon. That’s what Rudy said. Danny died in California. I felt ridiculous for reading so much into it, but there had to be some explanation, and I couldn’t beat myself up for wanting to believe something—anything!
Summers' Deceit (Hunters Trilogy Book 1) Page 10
