by M. D. Archer
“Speech!” Ruby cries, her cheeks flushed from wine. Encouraged by the chorus of foot stamping I stand, clearing my throat, and look around the table. To my left are Susan and George, Vincent’s parents, smiling at me with warmth. At the end, directly opposite Vincent, is an empty chair that I think is for Rica. Mason and Madison are next, angelic-looking twins, with light blond hair and aqua-blue eyes, but Mason revealed his true nature by hitting on me with his opening sentence, and Madison’s first words had been to interrogate about me about whether I was interested in being junior Consillium Principali.
Ruby is seated directly opposite me and Dana is at Vincent’s right. The chair to Vincent’s left and my right is empty. I’m hoping it is for Nikolai.
“Um, thank you all. I feel totally welcome and really pleased to be here, to be part of this… and… well, cheers!” I raise my glass and then sit down. It wasn’t the most eloquent speech in the world, but it was genuine.
I look across at Dana, admiring her shift-style T-shirt dress, paired with ankle boots and patterned tights. She looks like she has just stepped off a 70s photo shoot, and I wish I could pull off an outfit like that.
“What?” Dana asks.
“I like your outfit.”
“You can borrow it whenever you want.”
“What are you two talking about?” Vincent says, taking his seat at the head of the table.
“You’ll never know,” Dana teases, leaning over to nudge him. He clucks her under the chin with a smile. They’re so cute together. It makes me wonder what she was like with Jakob, her boyfriend in London. From what I can tell, he might have been the big love of her life, but I’m definitely team Vincent.
“Thank you for doing this,” I say to him, taking my napkin and draping it across my lap the way Dana is doing.
“You’re welcome, but it was actually Nikolai’s idea,” Vincent says with a smile and a nod as the chair to my right scrapes back.
“Sorry I’m a little late,” Nikolai says. As he takes a seat, his forearm brushes mine, sending a smattering of goose bumps up its length. He’s wearing a black, fitted T-shirt, jeans, and his hair looks wet—did he just get out of the shower?
“I was waiting for Rica, but in the end, he couldn’t get away. He sends his apologies.” Nikolai nods to me, meeting my eyes briefly so I notice how they darken when he turns to Vincent.
“An issue with Rogues in South America.”
He leans closer to Vincent and they fall silent, switching to telepathy, obviously trying to keep it just between the two of them. Official Consillium business I guess.
“So what do Rogues actually do to get in trouble with the Consillium?” I direct my question at Dana.
“You want, like a concrete example?” I nod. “So, last year, a couple of Rogues started extorting money from local businesses, so they had to shut that down. And over the summer, Rogues were causing trouble in various holiday destinations. Just creating and immersing themselves in chaos, basically. Rogue activity is usually either related to violence, or stealing money.”
Ruby tsks her disapproval. “Why do they think they can get away with it? Breaking the rules. It’s pointless in the end,” she says with more scorn than I have ever heard from her before.
”So, the Rogue that showed up for my first full moon, is that going to happen on a regular basis?” There’s a slight wobble to my voice.
“Don’t worry,” Nikolai says, stopping his conversation with Vincent and turning to lock eyes with me. “That is one of the reasons we have the Consillium. To protect you against Rogues.”
The passion that flares in his eyes makes me shiver.
AFTER DINNER, EVERYONE scatters to different parts of the house.
Susan and George are lazing in front of the fire with whiskey and tea, Madison and Mason are playing pool in the downstairs games room, and Vincent and Dana are in the kitchen—supposedly doing the dishes, but it sounds more like play fighting in there. Nikolai is out on the front patio, leaning against the railing, looking out at the water. I slide back the screen door and join him.
“Hey,” I say. When he turns, I can see he has his phone out, the display lit up as if he was just using it.
“Sorry, are you…?”
“No, it’s fine.” He turns to face me.
“I just wanted to say thank you. For organizing dinner.” My eyes land on his.
“You’re welcome.”
When I stand this close to him, energy zips back and forth between us, and it makes me tremble—in a good way. Surely he feels it too. When I look into his eyes and see them burning a little brighter, I think he does.
“So, Rica is your uncle, right? And his job is to be like, a go-between here and London?”
Nikolai nods.
“What happened in South America?”
Nikolai turns to face toward the water again, giving me his profile. I lean forward also, copying his stance. The air is cold against my skin, but it feels good. A playful shriek reaches us from the kitchen. I grin and a small smile tugs at Nikolai’s mouth.
“Rogues get involved in commercial fights, where a lot of money is at stake, and because they win, often unexpectedly, the organizers get suspicious. When it becomes a public disturbance, we step in. Or when they… hurt people.” His voice is tight and a note of pain is clearly audible, at least to me.
“Nikolai, did—”
His phone rings.
“Sorry, I have to take this,” he says, checking the display as he turns away. Even though I want to stay, prolonging this intimate moment, I take the cue to leave. He has business to attend to. But just as I slide back the door, I hear him say “Kirsten,” and my shoulders sag.
In the living room, Dana has just draped her arms around Vincent’s neck. He smiles down at her, his eyes crinkling at the edges, and plants a kiss on the tip of her nose. Dana turns, catches me staring, and winks. Vincent also turns and smiles when he sees me.
“Having a good time?” he asks.
I grin back. “The best.”
“Up for a midnight swim?”
Dana nods in encouragement, but I don’t need any.
“What about swimsuits?” I ask.
“It’s dark,” Dana says with an eye roll.
I glance over to where Nikolai is still out on the balcony, wondering if he is going to join us, but then push this thought away. It doesn’t matter. He’s with Kirsten, and I should go for a swim if I feel like it. Regardless of what he’s doing… or my lack of matching underwear.
I SPLASH AROUND with the others for nearly twenty minutes.
Just after I get out, just as I have wrapped one of the large towels that Vincent brought down around me, Nikolai emerges from the small pathway that winds down from the house.
“Hey,” he says.
“Are you going in? The water is beautiful.”
“No, I’ve got to go in a sec, and it would be hard to explain wet hair.”
He’s obviously going to see Kirsten. But he sits down as I do, facing the water, watching the dark shapes of the others as they continue to frolic.
“Is keeping all this from Kirsten difficult?”
Nikolai nods, this motion only visible because of the lights beaming down from the house.
“There is a lot I have to keep from her, and yes, it’s difficult. How is it going with… Chris?”
“Actually…” I look down at my feet. “I broke up with him.”
“Oh… I wondered. Sorry.” Nikolai is looking at me, but I keep my gaze down.
“We were kind of over anyway, and this was sort of the last straw. Becoming Lucan. It was all too hard,” I say, drawing my knees to my chest. “But anyway… all of this is so cool. I’m glad I’m part of it.” I manage a look in Nikolai’s direction, but now his eyes are fixed forward. Vincent, Dana, and Ruby are bounding out of the water.
“Who wants to go back to the city? Hit a club?” Ruby says, shaking her wet hair over us like a dog.
“Cut it out,” I
say, laughing. “But yeah, sounds good. If we can have showers?”
Vincent nods. “Of course. There are two inside, and I’ll use the outdoor one. You can put your underwear in the dryer.”
I get the impression they do this a lot.
“Unfortunately, I have to get going.” Nikolai stands, shakes Vincent’s hand and then kisses both Dana and Ruby on the cheek before turning to me, extending his hand down to help me up. I take it, immediately feeling a little bit warmer, and rise to stand next to him. He leans down to me, bringing a further flush of heat with his sudden proximity, and softly kisses me on the cheek.
“See you all later.”
Momentarily breathless, it takes me a second to notice that Dana, Vincent, and Ruby are all staring at me with amused expressions.
“What? Didn’t you say something about clubbing? Let’s go!” I say, charging up the path toward the house, sure that my cheeks are lit up like a road flare.
Chapter 16
“So I got a call last night,” Dana says, blocking my roundhouse kick to her side.
“Mom?” I say, trying a one-two, right-left combo.
“Yes.” She holds up her hand, panting slightly, and picks up her water bottle. She raises her eyebrows at me as she slurps water. I grab my water too, wiping the sweat off my face with my towel. “She asked if there was anything up with you.”
“Yeah, I thought she was suspicious.”
Mom had rounded on me as soon as I’d got home from the cabin.
“How was your trip?” she asked. Just home from work, she hadn’t made it past the kitchen yet and was standing at the counter checking e-mails on her phone. Often it’s Dad who ends up clearing her bag from the kitchen table, depositing it in her office, and shepherding Mom into the living room so she’ll take off her heels and sit down.
“Good. Fun.”
“Was Chris with you?”
I may have given Mom the impression that Chris was going too.
“Uh, no, he couldn’t in the end… busy with projects and work, you know.”
“I haven’t seen him in so long,” Mom said, narrowing her eyes a little. “Or Piper for that matter. How is she?” She eyed me like she was trying to gauge something.
“Uh, everyone is busy with college and stuff, but yeah….” I shrugged.
“Why don’t you have her over for dinner one night?”
“Uh, sure, I’ll ask.” I edged out of the kitchen.
“And Chris too.”
“Sure,” I agreed, relieved that she was satisfied with this vague plan, but then the next day, I did something kind of stupid. Home alone and bored, I gave in to my growing curiosity about Grandma Tessa and went searching for photographic evidence in the old boxes stashed in the garage.
A couple of hours later, I was covered in dust and knee-deep in boxes and nostalgia, but still unable to locate Mom’s family albums. My life is chronicled in incredible detail from birth to age twelve—possibly confirming when Mom’s fondness for me started waning—but nothing from her time in London. Finally, I spotted a box shoved into the corner in the highest, most out-of-the-way spot possible, hemmed in by what looked like a broken lawn chair. The old brown box was marked London. It was at an awkward angle, and all the junk in that top corner was strapped together in a way that suggested permanence. No one was planning on getting that stuff out any time soon.
Despite the awkward location and position, I knew I could get to it, and so I did. I climbed up, bracing myself against the wall with my Lucan strength and balance as I undid the ties holding it in place. Only a few seconds after I had released the box from its restraints, I heard footsteps clattering down the stairs.
“What are you doing?” Mom stopped when she saw the box. “How on earth did you get that down?”
My hunch that the box was never meant to see the light of day again was correct.
Mom moved further into the garage, looking from me to the corner, to the box, back to me again. My heart pounded. If she had walked in a few seconds earlier, she would have seen me performing a physical act that, given the laws of physics and human anatomy, shouldn’t be possible.
She asked me again how I got it down, and I fobbed her off with an unlikely explanation involving an old office chair and then scurried off to avoid further questions.
“That’s all, huh?” Dana says after I relay this story to her. “Tam, if you wanted to see pictures of Grandma Tessa, I have a few I can show you.”
“I know, I know,” I say, “but I’m still working out how to do this, Dana, how to have this secret life, identity, you know? It’s not super easy with someone watching you like a hawk. You had Grandma Tessa, and she was Lucan too.”
Dana nods, conceding this point.
“I know Mom is blaming you for… I don’t know what, but that isn’t my fault.”
Dana sighs. “I know, Tam. It’s just… it’s as if you’re not doing your best to keep a low profile. She mentioned something about you sneaking out as well.”
I know I’m asking for trouble with my midnight runs, but I can’t help myself. It’s like being given a new toy and being told not to play with it. And I swear Mom didn’t used to be this aware of me and my life, or maybe I’m being more reckless. The other night I accidently slammed the door shut coming home from a midnight run.
“Shit,” I had whispered, bounding up the stairs three at a time, springing softly on the balls of my feet. I’d made it into my room just as the door to my parents’ room opened. I dived into bed and lay still, feigning sleep.
“Tamzin?” Mom said, opening the door a crack.
I stayed still, desperately trying to quieten my racing heart.
“Tamzin?” she repeated, louder.
“Mnmmmph?” I did my best groggy, still asleep voice.
There was no response from Mom, but she was still there, in the doorway, uncertain.
“What?” I finally sat up, rubbing my eyes, trying to look bleary, hoping I didn’t have a rosy exercise glow.
“Nothing,” she whispered, closing the door.
It had been close… too close.
“And right now, I can tell there is something on your mind, but you don’t want to tell me,” Dana says, interrupting my thoughts.
“Um.” I start jogging on the spot, trying to think. Is she talking about my midnight runs or Carly King? My connection to Carly has been on my mind a lot. Maybe it’s time to fess up.
“Okay,” I say, coming to a standstill. After a deep breath, I tell Dana the whole story. She listens without interrupting me.
“So you were there at the same time as she was, but it’s an alcohol-induced blur?”
I nod.
“I can understand why this is bothering you, but at the end of the day, I don’t know that it changes anything.”
“But what about finding her body?”
“I agree that is kind of weird. But still, you had nothing to do with it, and you don’t have any information that can help the police. Imagine if you went to see them. What would you say? You were completely smashed that night. You’re not even sure if you were with her, you don’t know where you went, who else you were with, and where you parted ways.”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“And then when you saw her body you were what? Going for a midnight run like normal people do?” Dana raises her eyebrows. “And you bumped into some guy you barely know, and you somehow saw or smelt her body all the way back from the street? It’s worse than unhelpful. It raises questions that they will need to follow up. It wastes their time.”
I nod. She’s right. Plus I can’t imagine telling the cops without Mom and Dad finding out.
“You haven’t done anything wrong, so give yourself a break. Beating yourself up about this isn’t going to help.” Dana’s voice is soft. “I know it was upsetting, but you can’t get involved in stuff that has nothing to do with you.”
“Yeah, I know,” I say.
But why does it feel like it does have somethin
g to do with me?
“You haven’t forgotten what Vincent told you, have you? The rules?”
“No.”
“Good.” She smiles, then brings her hands up to her face again, ready to resume fighting. She adjusts her stance slightly, dropping her left shoulder a touch and moving forward onto the balls of her feet. Dana fights like she does most things—she learns the technique and then applies the technique.
I raise my hands too and start bobbing from side to side. “So what did you say to Mom? Will it get her off my back?”
“Hopefully,” Dana nods. “We didn’t end up in a fight, so that’s something at least?” she adds, her smile widening as she prepares to take a jab at me.
But the way Mom bangs open my door the next day tells me her conversation with Dana didn’t do anything to allay her suspicions.
“Tamzin, it’s almost noon. What are you still doing in bed?”
Damn her flexible real estate office hours.
“Mom, I was asleep!”
“I know! That’s the problem. Shouldn’t you be doing something? Have a paper due or something?” Mom gives me her best death-chill stare from the doorway.
“Uh,” I stall. I probably would, if I was still going to class, that is.
“Tamzin?”
“Yep,” I pull myself out of bed in the hope that this will end the conversation.
Mom eyes me as I walk past her to the bathroom. I think she’s checking to see whether I’ve lost more weight. I haven’t, at least not in the last couple of days. I’m the picture of health, which must be the only thing stopping her from marching me straight to the doctors. I still haven’t told her about breaking up with Chris, because she is suspicious enough already.
From the bathroom, I head downstairs, still in my pajamas, and go straight to the fridge.
