Lucan (The Lucan Trilogy Book 1)

by M. D. Archer

  “What have you been doing? Where were you last night? You were missing, Tamzin. Can you understand how worried we were? Given the current situation?”

  I nod, suddenly excruciatingly tired.

  “And now you show up with him, this loser, looking like you’ve been partying all night?”

  “He’s not a loser.”

  “I’m sorry,” I say to Nikolai.

  “It’s okay. I understand why they’re worried.”

  “You.” She points at Nikolai. “Leave. Now.”

  He takes a couple of steps backward. Lucan strength does not matter in the face of the wrath of my mother.

  “Go. I’ll talk to you later,” I say.

  “Don’t bet on it,” Mom says under her breath, slamming the door behind him. She turns back to face me.

  “You are not to see him. Ever. It’s over. All this, whatever is going on, it’s over.”

  “You can’t do that. You can’t treat me like some kid. I’m nineteen. I’m an adult. I’m allowed to see who I want to see, do what I want to do.”

  “Not under my roof.”

  “Really, your roof? You don’t want to try for a less clichéd parental response?”

  “This isn’t some drug house for you to hang out in, lazing around, doing God knows what all day. You need to either be going to college or you need to have a job. And you will not associate with people like him.”

  “There is nothing wrong with me hanging out with Nikolai!” I shout.

  “Where were you last night? How do you explain these drastic changes?”

  I sigh. “I can’t.” I shake my head. “But it’s not like that.”

  “As long as you are living here, you will not be continuing this lifestyle. It’s going to stop, Tamzin, and it’s going to stop now.”

  “You’re right,” I say, after the briefest pause. “It is going to stop. Me living here that is.” I stomp up the stairs.

  In my room, I throw clothes and toiletries in a bag, waiting for the sound of Mom following me, but there’s silence. I wait a little longer. Is she giving up that easily? Why isn’t she trying to make me stay? If I really was on drugs, then she should be trying harder, shouldn’t she? I go back to my room to grab a few more pairs of underwear and my laptop. Just before I leave my room, I dart back in and, feeling like a child, grab the Gumball machine.

  When I was six, furious that I wasn’t allowed to go to Mandy Tennerson’s birthday party for repeating a curse word I had heard her say at school, I had packed a bag and announced I was running away. I walked around the block twice and then snuck back inside to hide under my bed, eventually falling asleep, worn out by the drama of the day. Several hours later, I emerged, ready for dinner, and Mom and Dad didn’t say anything, just exchanged knowing glances as I took my seat at the dinner table. Bizarrely, this moment reminds me of that, but when I return to the kitchen, Mom is not indulgently smiling at Dad, charmed by my theatrical antics. She is sitting at the table, resting her head in one hand, looking small and defeated. For a second, I want to go over to her, hug her, and tell her everything that is going on, but I can’t. She wouldn’t believe me, and I can’t risk any more exposure. I’m in so much trouble, with everyone.

  When Mom looks up, sees my bag, a steely glint returns to her eyes.

  “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “Away from here.”

  “Tamzin.” The threat in her voice is clear, but there’s nothing I can do. Leaving is the only option. I just have to wait until everything calms down. She’ll calm down; she has to.

  “Mom, I’m sorry, and I’m fine, okay?” I say, letting my voice soften. I move toward the door, aware of her eyes drilling into my back. “Call Dad. Tell him I’m fine,” I say over my shoulder. “Please?”

  And then I’m gone.

  Chapter 26

  Alone in Dana’s living room, it’s just me and the amulet. It sits in its wooden box on the coffee table in the living room and I stare at it. Is this the solution?

  A moment before the knock on my door, I sense Nikolai’s presence.

  “It’s open,” I call, immobilized on the couch.

  He enters the room and glances at the wooden box first, then to me. Worried eyes traverse my face.

  “What happened after I left?” He sits down next to me.

  I pull my legs up and hug myself into a ball. “It got worse. Mom basically said if I didn’t tell her what’s going on, then I should leave. So I did.” I indicate my bag, dumped near the door. “I have to stay here for a while.”

  “When does Dana get back?”

  “A couple of days.”

  “And then what?”

  “Dana’s got my back. She’ll understand.”

  But will she?

  And should I even be putting her in this position? Mom is going to blame her for this. I just know it. Me being here, even if Dana has nothing to do with it, will make it seem like she’s siding with me against Mom. I sigh. It’s not fair. Why does Mom have to be such a control freak? I stand up, anger burning off my inertia, and pace the living room.

  “She is such a tyrant!”

  Nikolai takes my arm as I pass him, pulling me around to face him. “Who?”

  “Mom. She makes everything more difficult. It’s like she can sense that I’m stressed out, or overwhelmed, and she takes this as a signal to drive another nail into my stress coffin.”

  “I’m sure she doesn’t mean to.”

  “Ha!” I say as I collapse onto the couch. “I don’t know. We, fight a lot. We can’t seem to help it. She interferes in my life and can be so completely unreasonable.”

  With a small smile, he says, “Parents can be difficult.” Nikolai’s voice is strained.

  “You too?” From what I can tell, Nikolai’s father is barely ever here, and he has yet to mention his mother.

  “She’s probably just worried about you.” Pain clouds his eyes briefly, but then he shakes his head and looks away.

  “Nikolai…”

  “Listen, Tamzin, one of the reasons I came over… I came to check you were okay, but also, I wanted to ask you…” He trails off and looks over at the box on the table.

  “I need more time.”

  Nikolai nods like he understands. But does he? I know if it was him, he would have put it on already. But would they have even asked him to wear it?

  “Just know, it’s not forever… just until everything calms down. If for no other reason, until we catch the Crawler. He seems to feel connected to you. I don’t know why, but he’s using his Lucan connection to implicate you. Wearing the amulet will distort the signal.”

  Oh God. The Crawler.

  Rosemary.

  “Will it? For sure?”

  Nikolai nods, then pauses. “I mean, this is new territory for us, but it will weaken your signal, interfere with telepathic communication. The Crawler won’t be able to communicate with you anymore.”

  I lean back, different emotions competing for attention. If I break my connection with the Crawler, will he stop? And should I tell Nikolai about the accent? But that means I’ll be in even more trouble. Without warning, a big fat tear slides down my cheek.

  “Hey, are you okay?” Nikolai takes my hands in his, enveloping them with his strong warmth.

  “I’m so tired.” My voice trembles.

  “What am I thinking? You need to sleep.”

  It’s all I can do to nod. I’m summoning the energy to haul myself off the couch when Nikolai stands, scoops me up in his arms, and carries me to the bedroom.

  WHEN I WAKE up, the apartment is quiet, but I can sense Nikolai is still here.

  Sleep still pulling at my limbs, I shuffle into the living room, rubbing my eyes.

  “Hey, is it okay that I stayed?” Nikolai stands, a book open in his hand. He seems awkward, like he shouldn’t be sitting down without an expressed invitation. He’s taken his shoes off and a medium-sized carryall sits politely by the couch.

  “It’s gre
at, thank you. Are you…?” I point at the bag.

  “I thought… you shouldn’t be alone. I went home and picked up some stuff. I can stay for a couple of nights, if you like?”

  I look at him in surprise. “That would be awesome. I’d, uh… love that.”

  To say thank you, I make us dinner—Dana’s famous spaghetti bolognaise. Relying purely on having watched her make it, and having eaten it a thousand times, I throw ground beef, vegetables, tomato paste, and seasonings into a frying pan and bring a pot of water to the boil. Nikolai makes phone calls out on the balcony as I dash around the kitchen trying to keep the two pots under control while I prepare a salad. How does Dana make this look so effortless? When I hear the balcony door slide open, I quickly check my appearance in Dana’s shiny toaster and see flushed cheeks and sweat-dampened hair clinging to my face.

  “Hey, uh… not too far away,” I say as Nikolai strides into the kitchen.

  “Okay.” Nikolai fails to suppress a smile as he reaches out and plucks a piece of lettuce out of my hair. His phone rings again and he sighs, retracing his steps out to the balcony. I want to follow him out to find out who he’s talking to, but the pasta is starting to boil over.

  Finally, after I have wrestled the noodles and meat sauce into one large pasta bowl and cleaned myself up a little, I place everything on the table and announce that dinner is served. I resist the urge to light candles, but I do get a bottle of nice red wine from Dana’s stash and pour us both generous glasses. Nikolai’s eyes flick from the wine to me as he sits down. Taking a seat opposite him at the dining room table, I raise my glass.

  “I just want to say thank you for coming over and staying. I know you’re probably in trouble with Kirsten right now because of me.”

  Nikolai raises his glass to mine but frowns. “Actually…” He breaks off and looks down at his phone. “I broke up with Kirsten.”

  I inhale sharply.

  “Tamzin, I’m...” He fiddles with the stem of the wine glass and then takes a big gulp. “I’m here as a friend. To help you with this, okay?” His eyes finally meet mine.

  “Um, okay.” My chest clenches with disappointment. “Ready to eat?” I ask instead of what I really want to know—what happened with Kirsten?

  But then, halfway through our second helping and second glass of wine, just after I’ve forked a long strand of spaghetti into my mouth, he brings the subject up on his own.

  “We only ever seemed to fight anymore.”

  “Uh-huh?” I encourage as best I can with my mouth full.

  “And I guess it wasn’t going to last forever. I’m Lucan, she isn’t. I don’t know why I let it go on as long as I did, but”—he tilts his head in a rueful gesture—“she can be convincing.”

  I don’t want details of how Kirsten can be convincing, but I nod because I do want him to keep talking.

  “Also”—he leans back in his chair, plays with his fork—“my heart was no longer in it.”

  “How come?” I ask. My throat is tight. I want him to say because of me. His heart wasn’t in it because of me.

  “Ah…” He pauses, eyes still down. He looks so vulnerable, I could leap across the table and take him in my arms. But I don’t. And he doesn’t answer. Instead, he leans forward, takes a bite of food, and then another.

  We finish dinner in virtual silence.

  “Thank you for this, it was—” He allows himself a smile. “—better than I expected.”

  “Hey!” I protest, to which Nikolai gestures at the kitchen. It literally looks like a spaghetti bomb went off.

  I grin and shrug. “Okay, I’ll take that as a compliment.” And then I blurt out what I have been wanting to say all through dinner. “So, we’re both single now.”

  “Tamzin…” Nikolai’s voice is cautionary.

  “Yes?”

  “I only just broke up with Kirsten.”

  “And?”

  “And you broke up with Chris not so long ago either.”

  “Yeah, but…” I try to shrug off this logic.

  “It isn’t a good idea,” Nikolai says, shaking his head. “I mean, we hardly know each other.”

  “Right,” I say, feeling like an idiot.

  We fall into silence again. With dead air, unwanted thoughts are free to race around my head, like how Nikolai mentioned me hooking up with that random guy, and how he told me not to hook up with Mason, and all I can think is that Nikolai doesn’t approve of my behavior. He thinks I’m promiscuous.

  “Don’t worry, I get it.” I throw down my fork and slump back in my chair. “But I could do without the judgement.”

  “What?”

  “Are you one of those guys who think women should protect their virtue?” I glower. “Save themselves for marriage? Or, only for like, long-term relationships?”

  Nikolai shakes his head, the muscles in his jaw working. “Not at all. I think anyone, as long as they protect themselves—physically and emotionally—and don’t harm anyone else, should do whatever they want. Including having sex with whomever they want.”

  It’s the right and wrong answer all at the same time. If he is such a free-love liberal, then why not me?

  “Okay, so then why are you so restrained then? I thought Lucans were hedonistic. All you do is follow the rules and be cautious and sensible.”

  Nikolai shakes his head and doesn’t speak for a moment. When he does, his voice is low.

  “Lucans aren’t by default wild, or out of control. Many of us are motivated by pleasure and reward, but you can still be contained. This is how my parents raised me. My parents…” He gulps. “My father doesn’t believe that being Lucan gives you the right to give in to any primal urge you have. He believes in self-discipline.”

  “So you weren’t judging me for hooking up with that guy at the club?”

  “Not at all. You were with Chris for a long time, weren’t you?”

  I nod.

  “So you need a bit of time to get over that. A rebound or two is perfectly natural.”

  Nikolai locks eyes with me and there is an intensity that makes me breathless.

  “But I don’t want to be your rebound, Tamzin.”

  LATER, WATCHING TV, I can’t stop thinking about what he said.

  What did he mean, exactly? I look at the side of his face as he stares fixedly at Dana’s large TV, mounted on the far wall. A random episode of Breaking Bad is on, a selection I hoped would be sufficiently distracting and wouldn’t have any sex scenes to ramp up the awkwardness factor. The light from the TV flickers across his jawbone, the skin around his eyes creases as he smiles at something, then his smile is replaced by a frown. I glance at the screen as I wonder what’s making him react like that, what he thinks is funny, what he’s thinking about, and then I realize that for maybe the first time, I’m looking at him, as a person. I’m seeing that his handsome façade is just an exterior, and it probably houses a complex interior. I just never bothered to look before. He’s right, I hardly know him, and I’m rebounding after Chris. I’ve been looking for someone to solidify our breakup, someone I didn’t need to know, someone I would end up tossing aside.

  “What is it?” he says without moving.

  Whoops.

  “Nothing, I just…” I fumble with my words until I find them and the bravery to say them. “I don’t want to be your rebound either.”

  Nikolai doesn’t respond straight away and my stomach clenches. Was I wrong? Did I misinterpret that? Did he say all that just as a way to get me to back off?

  But then he turns so that I can see his eyes, dark in this light.

  “Good,” he says.

  “HEY, I’M going for a run,” Nikolai calls out from the spare room.

  “Okay,” I say, turning my attention back to the breakfast dishes. Nikolai had graciously offered to clean up after dinner last night and I had let him, so now it’s my turn to clean up after his breakfast feast this morning. As if he hadn’t been endowed with enough attributes to make him irresistible,
Nikolai is also a good cook. I’d sipped coffee as I watched him, mesmerized, moving gracefully around the kitchen, perfectly timing the cooking of bacon, eggs, toast, mushrooms, and grilled tomatoes. I felt a surge of longing so acute that it verged on painful. But Nikolai was right, the stuff he said last night about rebounds, so I’m going to be self-controlled.

  With Nikolai gone and the radio blaring, I start cleaning. I load the small dishwasher, clean the bench, scrub the pans, and return all the ingredients and utensils to their rightful places. On a roll, I tackle the living room as well, which already has a lot of my crap scattered throughout. An hour later, I’m surveying the tidy apartment, pleased with myself, when Nikolai comes back.

  “Nice work,” he says with a smile, but stays near the entrance. It’s like he’s determined to keep at least four feet between us at all times. “Okay for me to take a quick shower?”

  “Of course.”

  After he disappears around the corner, I realize the only bath towel in the bathroom is the sodden one I used this morning. I grab one of the larger, fluffier towels Dana has stashed in the linen cupboard and take it to the spare room, but Nikolai is already in the bathroom pulling off his T-shirt. His back is to me. Light from the window streams in, dancing over the contours of his body. Beads of sweat glisten as he bends down to pull his shoes off. His shorts, slung low, caress the edge of his hips. A hard line of muscle highlights the external oblique muscles of his stomach. The serratus muscles in his side become momentarily visible as he reaches down to take off his socks. His deltoids and biceps bunch and move as he hooks his thumbs around the waist of his shorts.

  I guess I do remember something from anatomy class.

  “Uh…,” I say.

  Nikolai turns to face me.

  “Sorry, here’s a clean towel.”

  “Thanks.” He takes it from me. “I’ll just…” He points at the shower. The atmosphere is so loaded with tension, I almost can’t breathe. I step back as Nikolai closes the door. I swear there was a hint of a smile on his face.

  I go back to the living room, trying to clear the images of Nikolai from my head. I flick through the TV channels, looking for a show involving Disney characters or cartoon animals, but soon I don’t need the TV to distract me from thinking about Nikolai in the shower. The wooden box sitting on the table in front of me takes center stage in my thoughts as I revisit the horrible revelation that the Crawler might be murdering people for my benefit. If I wear the amulet, will that stop? Nikolai said it would make it harder for the Crawler to implicate me. That alone should be reason enough. Nikolai wants me to wear it, and I trust him, don’t I? I want to be part of his world, and the Consillium is more than just rules. They offer protection and community. If wearing the amulet can do anything to help stop the Crawler, then it’s a no-brainer.